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littledollll · 2 years ago

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Breeding kink with Luci 👀 creative reign bby

One hell of a welcome

Lucifer x champion!reader

A/n: for context Angels are genderless, and they can freely shift between sex as they please, I stand by my statement. Dicks are hard to write about.

Warnings: kinda silly with a lil dark? Reader has a Harley Quinn personality in the beginning and likes being gory, Lucifer loving that, breeding kink, praise, degradation, powerbottom Lucifer, daddy Lucifer?, throne room sex, ooc Lucifer? bc fuck it (literally), dirty talk, kinda mean dom!lucifer, exhibitionism

Beelzebub really needed to give up on challenging you.

Up til now you have rejected the idea of a fight but recently the idea of making a proposal the next time he did seemed just too sweet, you didn’t think the prideful idiot would agree, neither did Lucifer in all honesty, when they challenged you this time after they set their same prize “if I win, you serve me instead of Lucifer” as if you worked for them? You agreed regardless, just for the amusement of it. “You know what I’m in a humbling mood, I’ll do it! but when I win, you give me your third part of hell, and maybe your skull.” You sounded amused, which was just a little concerning for the demon challenging you.

Lucifer cracked a very proud smile, it sure would be lovely to rule along your side officially, maybe your get rid of Azazel together too. “Are we sure that’s even allowed-“ Beelzebub looked around the room, waiting for somebody to say you couldn’t. Waiting for Lucifer or Azazel to defend him but all he got was a head tilt from Lucifer, examining him. “So Beelzebub, do you accept the terms of this challenge?” You ask dryly, sick of waiting for his jaw to snap back into place.

“Ambitious thing, you are. And dumb, very dumb. I accept your terms, ‘your majesty’” he replied mockingly, that cocky tone wasn’t gonna help him in any way. “You have a smart mouth, but can you hold your own against me without the help of the Morningstar?” He spat. “Are you proposing a ability based game, Beelzebub? And you say I am the dumb one..” you trail off.

The fight was over in seconds. You got the first move as the challenged, your very much useful ability, agony, making this a swift fight, with your simple command Beelzebub was brought to his knees. “Nobody said anything about pacing, right? Fair game?” You looked around the room, casually as Beelzebub succumbed to the pain, the few present had no complaints.

He had to call it though, the match would last as long as he held off, Beezelbub could chose to continue suffering until one of you tired and ended him or give up. “I will literally drive you insane, Kay? Just give up already I’m bored.”

“Beezelbub, stop making a fool of yourself and call it.” Said Azazel, sounding just annoyed.

You were sat on the floor near him. “Do u want me to help you? I’ll take myself out and everything!” He seemed to be annoyed by your teasing for some reason. “This is really sad, remind me again why and how he was allowed to co-rule?” You giggled then stoped smiling suddenly very serious and looked at him tilting your head. “I think I won, so I’m gonna stop now yeah? And if you try to strike back I will turn your insides into outsides.”

“Of course you caught yourself a crazy one.” Azazel muttered to Lucifer who was just amused watching and listening to you.

“Insanity is a beautiful thing in hell. It’s oddly satisfying isn’t it? How she talks and acts, fits right in, but can also be levelheaded enough to get things done, and done well at that, she can be as calm and collected as me when she really wants to, but what’s the point of that now? She’s simply having fun.”

Indeed you were. Beezelbub gasped for breath when you released the grip of agony you had over him. “I’d end you right now but.. I think it’ll be fun to watch you mope around while I proudly take your title as co-ruler and do your job better!” You patted his head and smiled. “Challenge me again and I will take it with my bare hands though, understand?”

You simply turned and skipped over to Lucifer giving him no time to respond. Sitting on their lap you kissed their cheek and looked up. “How’d I do!?” Azazel laughed. “Using agony first move? Nasty trick.” You frowned. “Yeah well I was- am tired of his shit!” You huffed and slumped against Lucifer’s shoulder, then they spoke. “Azazel, do us a favor and take him with you on your way out, we thank you.” Azazel did just that, and Lucifer locked all entrances once they left.

“That was certainly a show, dearest, how’s your head?” Agony took concentration, it wasn’t as easy as just commanding it upon someone, you needed to find their own, exploit it, and enhance it, giving you the worse headaches, it’s why you usually stuck with driving your opponents to their own demise, insanity came as second nature.

“Tortured! And it’s supposed to be my job to deliver it, not experience it!.. he’s lucky I didn’t end him.” You mumbled that last part, Lucifer sighed. “Must you be so pessimistic, have you forgotten you’ve won against one of the rulers of hell already? And you did it wonderfully.. such good girl.” Their lips met your neck and shoulders with open mouthed kisses while you fell silent.

“You definitely deserve a reward, don’t you think.. my queen?” you whimpered in response, hands coming up to undo their clothes while they practically tore away your own, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. Lucifer’s hands made their way between your thighs, rubbing tight circles on your clit thought your underwear. “I want you to ruin these.”

“ooh please- daddy!” You cried. “Oh? That’s new, whats going on in that little head of yours, Darling?” that signature amused tone and smirk coming through as they spoke. “I want- I pick my reward. Want you to fill me up.” you moan grinding your hips against the bulge you were suddenly made aware of, making them hiss and grip your hips. “One hell of a request, pet.” Lucifer hummed and made quick work of the remaining clothes getting rid of them before pulling you fully onto their lap, you wasted no time on teasing or prep, supporting yourself on their shoulders slowly sinking onto their cock.

You ground your hips onto theirs while you adjusted, pulling a hiss from Lucifer. Their hands grip your hips forcing you to a stop. “Don’t be greedy, my darling. Don’t forget who’s in control here.” You nodded, just wanting them to fuck you senseless already. “I’ll be good, promise” you whined and pouted, wishing they’d just take you. “Don’t make me regret letting you be on top.”

“I want you to breed me- please Luci..” the second you started riding them, Lucifer started pounding into your cervix, hard and fast ready to comply with your begging. You cried out when you felt the pain and pleasure shoot through your body. “Don’t worry, pet. I’ll make sure you can feel me dripping out of you for days.” The grip they had on your hips was painful, definitely going to bruise, as they repeatedly slammed you down to meet their thrusts.

“Everyone’s gonna know the new queen of hell likes getting stuffed until she can’t walk, do you want that? my pretty little whore.” You only whimpered at their words, earning yourself a slap against your thigh. “Answer me, doll.” Lucifer pounded into you with abandon making your body tense you moaned out. Another slap and a twitch of their hand before they gripped onto you again. “Yes yes! I want- daddy!” You cried, practically falling onto them as your body move on it’s own chasing your high.

“Finish that thought, pet.” You clenched around them and their hips stuttered for only a second before going back to their bruising pace. All you could hear was their groans and hisses, your moans and the sound of skin slapping. Kissing over their neck you decided to mark them as they would you, making them moan. “Such a good whore, aren’t you? So pretty for me..” a hand ran down the line of your spine making you shiver and sigh, such a soft gesture, silently reassuring.

“Go on, pet.” Oh, you’d almost forgotten. “What do you want, pretty?” “I want them to know I’m all yours.” You stuttered and Lucifer hummed in response. “Oh they know.” There was a smugness in their voice, but you didn’t understand why just yet. You wondered what they meant only for a second before they angled their hips, hitting constantly right against your g-spot.

“Oh fuck W-wait- luce!” Your legs were shaking, it was too much. You couldn’t keep moving. “What’s wrong pet? Too weak to keep going?” You knew it wasn’t really a question. So you didn’t answer.

Lucifer did it all for you. Their hand sneaking between your legs rubbing your clit. That was all you needed before you screamed, your grip on their hair tightened and your body curled into them, your orgasm triggered their own and the feeling of them filling you up made your eyes roll back as your forehead rested on their chest, panting. You swore you lost all your senses for a minute before you felt their hand squeeze your hip.

You hummed, spreading lazy kisses all over their chest while you both recovered, and after a while you noticed it. “Did you-“ they chuckled. “About half an hour ago.” Hell has never been quiet, but it’s never this loud, not near the throne room anyways, not unless Lucifer summons them. You turned red. Opting to just stay hidden in their neck until the embarrassment faded. “I thought it was proper way to officially welcome their new queen, no?” That fucking smirk.

#the sandman #lucifer morningstar (the sandman)#lucifer morningstar the sandman #the sandman lucifer morningstar #lucifer sandman smut #lucifer sandman #sandman lucifer x reader #gwendoline christie #the sandman lucifer smut

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foodieforthoughts · 4 years ago

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I Would Do It Again - Four

Summary: Anya Adams, a troubled soul but fierce on the outside, stumbles over a stranger at a party and ends up sharing more than just her name. She’s in for a whirlwind encounter when he turns out to be her boss. Striking up a deal for pleasure, Anya soon finds herself mixing work and play. For someone who swore off love, would she let the handsome Brit break down her walls?

Pairing: AU Henry Cavill x OFC

Words: 3.3k

Warnings: None. But this gears up for what’s coming next.

A/N: This series is becoming my favourite! Thank you lovelies who are following this series. Lots of love to you guys. Unbeta-ed so please ignore my mistakes. ♥️

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Title: Four

There has to be a logic behind why when you are trying to avoid something, or in my case, someone, it seems to appear more often than you want it to.

That’s exactly the same thing that was happening with me. Henry was on my mind and everywhere I looked. He was in the break room when I went to get coffee bringing back vivid memories of a certain activity performed in his office. He had looked at me while we both waited for our cups to fill. Unlike last time in the same room, there were other people with us. Our fingers had brushed against each other’s when we reached for our cups together, making me gasp and I could swear he had pulled in a breath.

I had almost run out of the room before anyone noticed us and dodged a hell of an HR nightmare.

Which leads us to now.

Our company was launching a product soon, everyone was gearing up for it. The executives including Henry were having a presentation about marketing from Johanna and Stephanie in the conference room. It wouldn’t have been a problem for me, it ever had posed as such. But now the glass box was a distracting piece of architecture. Whoever designed this office had no sense of privacy.

I was sitting on my desk finishing a report for Stephanie but every once in a while, my eyes would avert to the conference room. Johanna was on a roll, she hardly ever smiled while presenting, but today she was beaming. Everyone seemed to be approving whatever she was pitching, Henry too.

In an involuntary response to him, my heart raced as I stared at him. He was turned just enough to be looking at Johanna with his arm still on the table. I had seen him enter the office doors in a grey checkered suit with a black shirt. My gaze had travelled the length of him as he had smiled at some of our co-workers and made his way to his office exuding power and grace.

I could feel my cheeks heat and my center ached thinking about his touch. I closed my eyes momentarily and took a deep breath to get a grip on my thoughts. Only when I opened my eyes, my breath seemed to get caught up in my throat.

Henry was looking at me with the distance of space and glass between us. When our eyes met, even for that split second, something happened. I could be imagining it, making up scenarios to include Henry to justify something. But in the most non-clichéd way I could describe it, I felt something between us.

I watched as he averted his eyes back to Johanna, his lips turning at the corner with just a hint of a smile.. I blinked multiple times in a sad attempt at making myself believe that that did not just happen.

***

“Are you avoiding me?”

I was getting used to the husky voice that was already haunting my waking thoughts. I could already feel the hair on the back of my neck stand listening to him. I slowly turned around to look at him. It was the third day since our time in his office; third day of me trying to avoid him like the plague. There is only so much space I could get in between us on the 20th floor of our office building.

Our office was almost empty, the last of the employees walking out with huge smiles on their faces. It was a common scenario on a Friday evening, people had plans to go out, spend time with family or friends. I had plans too. I was supposed to go out to a club and get shit drunk and maybe get lucky with a decent guy. I needed the distraction of someone else’s body, anything to ward off thoughts about Henry.

Henry looked elegant in his navy waistcoat over white shirt, his hair combed back neatly. He had his arms folded over his chest with his lips pressed in a tight line. He looked crisp and clean like he had just arrived in the morning, whereas I on the other hand looked worn out after eight hours of office work.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

I tried to sound as straight faced as possible. I wasn’t going to melt in his presence. He was my boss, but I was not going to be taken for pleasures like he had. Although, the pleasure was all mine. I gulped as his eyebrows knitted together.

“I don’t know what went wrong,” he started, his hands falling on either side, “If you think I took advantage of you, I am sorry.”

His eyes seemed to soften with each word. I was itching to be fucked because all Henry had done was leave me wanting more. But here he was asking if I felt violated when all I wanted to do was to grab his hand and pull him to his office demanding him to fuck me till I saw stars in front of my eyes.

Henry looked at me expecting me to say something. The janitors had begun cleaning already, one even threw us a look as he walked by us towards the toilets. Momentarily I wondered if any of them had heard my moan while Henry had devoured me on his table.

“Do you want me to go?”

His voice was soft, his face placid. I was feeling wound up by the contradictions. He seemed demanding not a minute ago but now he seemed like he cared.

“Mr. Cavill,” I was ignoring the slight widening of his eyes at the formality, “I don’t feel…taken advantage of. But I don’t know how to maintain a decorum now that I have to see you every day.”

“You think I would ask you to sleep me with me because I am your boss.”

It wasn’t a question. He was stating exactly what I had been thinking. I was all about taking pleasures and giving it to someone. But I did not want to be somebody’s plaything. It was even more twisted because I wanted to be with Henry, but I was scared to cross that line.

“Y-yes.”

He took a step forward, his hands extending in front of him, reaching out to me. “I would never.” I could feel my heart picking up pace as he came closer. His scent, his musky cologne, was wrapping around me, reminding me again of the time we had spent together. “Anya, I am sorry if I ever implied anything of that sort. But I have no such intentions.”

I raised my eyebrows at him. “What do you mean?”

His demeanor softened slightly. He stood only a couple of steps away from me, but I could feel the weight of his presence. “If you don’t mind then I would really like for us to-”

“I don’t date.” The words left from my lips faster than bullets leaving from a barrel of a gun. It was an involuntary response that I couldn’t control. From the words that Henry was knitting into a sentence, it seemed like he wanted to date me. It sounded dreamy and like the perfect plot of a romance movie, to be dating your boss and falling in love, but it was unacceptable for me personally and professionally.

“Sorry… what?” He looked surprised. His arms folded in front of him, bulging his muscles and the poor fabric of his coat. Suddenly the feeling of his hands under my thighs, lifting me up on his desk appeared vividly in my mind. I clutched my bag tighter to my body as a tingly sensation ran all over my body.

“I don’t date. I mean-I could, but I don’t.” I did not intend to give up my life story to this man who had seen my lady parts twice. No one in the office knew about me, except Macky, and I was appreciative of things staying like that. “Please don’t make me reject you.”

A chuckle left from his lips. His shoulders moved with the rumble in his chest and he shook his head. He ran a hand through his perfectly combed hair, dark strands moving over his skin, and messed it up a little in the process. My fingertips itched at the feeling of his soft hair when I had grabbed them in a frenzy while our tongues had fought for dominance.

“Okay, I’ll remember that.” He smiled. “But that is not what I was meaning to ask of you.” He took a tentative step towards me, closing the gap between us. I looked up at him, his figure looming over me, making me crane my neck to meet his eyes. “I know you can feel it too, the urge…”

I gulped down at the bluntness in his voice. He took a step even further, our bodies now having less than a millimeter of space between them. His eyes looked dark and the corner of his lips turned up in a lopsided smirk.

“Wh-what do you mean?” I shuddered as the back of his hand grazed my arm, goosebumps covering my skin.

“I can’t think of anything but you, your writhing body and your moans; the way your muscles quiver while you orgasm.” His hand travelled up my arm, his fingertips barely touching now. “Tell me you haven’t been thinking about it?”

“Uh-” Words were getting scrambled in my head. My legs were quivering with the ache beginning to grow between my thighs. Warmth crept up from my chest up to my cheeks, extending to my ears.

Henry’s eyes were glistening but the blue in them were dark. His lips were parted slightly and his breaths coming in short. His hand stopped at my shoulder with it rested lightly on me. All I wanted to do in the moment was to grab his face and bring those tempting lips down on mine. I wanted to rip our clothes off, ridding us from the only barriers from between our bodies. I needed to feel him in me again because that is all I could think about.

I closed my eyes for a split second and took a deep breath. I immediately regretted it because now his scent was the only thing I could smell. I took a step back, ignoring his face because I did not want to see the look on him.

“I need to go.” I needed to breathe! I grabbed my bag and before Henry could utter a syllable, I dashed out of the office.

***

A cold shower, some cardio and comfort food of Chinese takeaway was finally getting my hot and bothered body to calm down. My friends had tried their best to convince me to come for the party but after running away from the office, I was not in the mood anymore.

Henry had no idea what his touch did to me. I was fairly certain he knew I was attracted to him, but he hadn’t looked at my thoughts which only featured him naked and on top of me.

My TV played in the background with a random series playing on Netflix. I was scrolling through my social media feed while eating my noodles, lounging in my pajamas on the couch. I was multi-tasking like a supercomputer with my mind overflowing with Henry’s face.

He was good-looking, I was sure he knew that too. His eyes were a vivid blue and his sharp jaw made me weak in my knees. Not to forget his bulging muscles hinting that he definitely works out. My hands had roamed that body the first time, which seemed like an eternity ago, the feeling of his hard muscles flexing underneath my touch. The memory was getting fainter and less vivid and I was ready to make new ones with him.

I bit my lip with the thought, my thighs clamping as I felt wetness forming in between my legs. He was amazing with his tongue too and not to forget his fingers-

“Ugh!” I placed my empty noodles carton on the coffee table and fluffed up my pillows to lie down on it. “Get your head together, Anya.”

I watched absentmindedly as the protagonist of the show worried about her feelings for her supposed boyfriend. Feelings-shmeelings. The heroine had it easy because at the end of the show she was going to land up with the guy anyway. It was the real-life scenarios where someone just decides to leave even after being together for years. There were always the happy endings in these shows whereas in reality you feel like curling up in a ball for eternity.

As my spiraling thoughts pulled me down the rabbit hole of depression, I quickly went to grab a bottle of wine. I knew alcohol was not a good option after plummeting myself into self-loathing, but I needed it.

I was a person with little to no tolerance for alcohol which was ironic because my liking for wine was unbounded. The bottle of wine was over with only few gulps and I was already light-headed. I was texting Barbara as she was explaining to me how Rachel had gone off with a blonde guy under thirty minutes of arriving at the party. I laughed as she tagged us as unintentional whores.

As the alcohol started affecting my thinking process more and more, Henry’s face began appearing more frequently in my mind. I was sprawled on my couch now, with my pillows on the floor and my head resting on the arm rest. A wild idea entered my mind.

I wasn’t sure Henry had an Instagram account, he seemed to be the kind to keep his life private and professional. But I had to check. Johanna and Kundra had Instagram accounts even though they were the execs of the company. So, I started typing his name in the search bar.

I did not have to scroll for his profile as his appeared instantly with a black and white picture of him. His handle name was not surprisingly a simple ‘HenryCavill’, always to the point. Also expected was Matthew as a mutual, he was a professional, but he knew how to suck up to his bosses.

Unlike my expectation of finding him posing with Forbes or Fortune magazines in his posh London mansion, all I saw was goofy pictures of him in his home. His feed was filled with casual pictures of him in his day-to-day life. He had a couple of pictures with his family, a woman who had a strikingly similar blue eyes like him. I smiled as he had a picture of him and who I was assuming to be his nephew on a green field with the sun hitting their faces. I don’t know what it was but the smile on his face with his lips spread wide and showing his pearly whites was a sight I had not seen.

As I was reeling from the cuteness of the picture, my eyes nearly popped out from the sockets as I came across a picture of him shirtless. It was a mirror selfie in a gym with him facing sideways. His abs looked impeccable with his shorts riding low. My eyes travelled down the ‘V’ that ended under the fabric with dark hair lining it’s path.

If it was possible for me to drool, I was already doing it. His face looked fresh even though his skin was glistening with sweat. His muscles looked pumped and him flexing them wasn’t helping my case at all. I saw a comment from someone with googly eyes underneath it. It looked like a woman’s Instagram handle.

I could have just scrolled past it or maybe looked at the picture and touched myself because I know a release is what I wanted. But curiosity got the better of me. The picture was a year old according to the time stamp and also by what I had seen of his body his abs had lost its definition of being a six pack. The woman could be his girlfriend or wife, I did not want to be the other woman in their story if that was the case.

I meant to open the comments but instead my hazy, alcohol-laden brain clicked on the heart, liking the picture. The blood rushed from my head so fast, I felt dizzy. I was sitting up instantly with my mind clearing up and understanding the gravity of the situation. Henry was going to find out I was stalking him. I had run out on him just hours ago and now I was liking his old photos. I unliked the picture hoping and praying desperately that he did not notice it.

I chewed on the corner of my nails as I looked at my phone screen. I had an analog clock on my home screen and the second’s hand was moving so slow, my heart was going on overdrive just watching it tick by.

Five minutes after the mishap, I finally took a deep breath. Maybe he was out so he didn’t get to check his phone or maybe he was asleep. The possibility of hating me for running out on him and hence ignoring my notification was also looking bright. I was willing to be hated rather than getting caught stalking his shirtless body.

Just when I was about to stand up and clean up my table before retiring to my bed, my phone rang. It was a message notification. I stared at my phone on the couch long and hard. It could be Barbara after reaching home or maybe Rachel needed help to get home and her walk of shame. It could be my mother checking up on me or Matthew texting me about a lunch tomorrow. There were many possibilities but even I knew deep down who it might be that was messaging me.

With bated breath, I looked at my phone and felt my cheeks blush looking at Henry’s message. ‘Stalking me now, are we?’ with a winking emoji added after it.

He knew. He knew now that I was looking at his shirtless picture and had searched for his profile in the first place. I had denied the man’s advances and now I was ogling at his pictures. It was so embarrassing and him calling me out on it was draining the life out of me.

Before I could grab the situation any farther, another message popped up. ‘I appreciate that you like my picture, but I would like it even more if you don’t run out on me again.’

I read his message again wondering how he kept on being nice even after me being nothing but borderline rude. This man was so intense when he wanted to be. But then he was also the kind to ask for permission before kissing you senseless and pleasuring you in his office. He was amazing in bed and also polite. My hands were starting to get clammy with all of these Henry’s attributes shining through in front of me.

Why wasn’t I able to keep away from me? I had a fair share of my male body, but Henry was sticking around even after the deed was done. Even weirder was it had been more than two months since we had hooked up at the party and I had not slept with anyone else since then. The proximity of our work was also an obstacle that I could not avoid.

But he was being nice. The least I could do was reply. And so, I did.

“I won’t.” The jittering feeling inside me just exploded when he replied with a smiley face.

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill au #henry cavill fanfiction #I would do it again series

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fossntwriter · 4 years ago

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You’re Safe

Jay Halstead x Reader

(not my gif)

You thought it was going to be a fun night out on the town with your girls. You hadn’t seen them in what felt like years, but in reality, was only a couple of weeks. You had all been so caught up in your jobs and hectic schedules that you hadn’t had time to even have lunch together on a Saturday. Not even grab a cup of coffee in the mornings on your ways to work because you all worked in separate ends of the city.

You worked at Chicago MED. Of course your schedule was going to be hectic. You were 22 and new at the job- which means you don’t get your pick of shift, unfortunately leaving you with the third shift. You worked nights into the early hours of morning and slept during the days. Fortunately, you got 2 days off, which happened to match up with all of your friends days off- finally.

You and your 4 other friends, decided to meet up on the rare night that you all shared a day off on. You all caught up and talked about jobs, your bosses, cute co-workers and old memories. It was stress-relieving and the most fun you’ve had in a long while. Your job was great, but there was always a scare- especially when you worked in Chicago.

Many people came in that had been shot or abused or even harassed. You’ve seen your fare share of death and heartbreak already in your short time on the job. You’ve yet to witness a miracle, but have no doubt that someday, it will happen. You try your best to help those who need help, to save those who need saving and to care for those who need caring. You’re a nurse- it’s your job. That’s why you wanted to become a nurse. To take care of people who needed to be taken care of. You helped people- it’s like it was written in your DNA. You’ve always felt the overwhelming urge to put others before yourself. To even risk your safety at times. You just want to help others- and there’s nothing wrong with that.

You’ve met others like you. For instance, Jay Halstead. The cop from Chicago PD. The cute cop- at that. He’s also your coworkers brother. You liked Will from the start. He was nice and easy to talk to. It’s no wonder you liked his brother as well. Apparently, to all of your other coworkers- it was obvious you liked Jay. You brushed it off and told them things like “I do not” or “Definetly not.” They didn’t believe you, but they brought it up less. In reality though, you did like the cute brown haired man. Who wouldn’t? He was tall and handsome. He was in good shape and sported a cute smile whenever he was around. He was easy to talk to and cared about helping people just as much as you did. Of course you fell for him.

And he fell for you too.

It was something Will teases him about a lot. He made comments to Jay like, “You like the new girl, eh?”, “she’s a cutie, ain’t she?” and “stop staring at her.” In reality, Will liked the idea of you two together. You were genuinely kind and good at your job. You were funny and nice. Too nice for your own good. Which is why Will thought Jay was a good match for you. He would be able to protect you. You were a smart girl, but unbearably naïve and oblivious at times. There were times where he was worried about you- after all, you did happen to be one of his closest friends even if you just started your job at the local hospital. He was worried somebody would take advantage of how kind you were and use it against you- or even take you. You probably couldn’t defend yourself. You weren’t very strong if he was going to tell the truth. He was terrified of losing one of his friends. He knew your kindness would be used against you. And he was right.

It was supposed to be a fun and harmless night in the bar with your friends. You wanted to enjoy your night off. This was the way to do that. Or so you thought.

It started off simple. He just offered to buy you a drink but you politely turned him down remembering Jay’s advice to never accept a drink from a guy you didn’t know- no matter how nice he seemed.

Then, when you were dancing with your friends he got in the middle of your group and tried to dance with just you by blocking you from them. You slowly moved away to go back to your friends.

From them on, you were cautious. Constantly steeling glances around the room to see if he was near you. Often times, he was just on the other side of the bar- watching you. It scared you. Typically when a guy stares at you, it should make you feel flattered. But this was different. His look made you feel dirty. You felt gross.

He tried to offer you drinks several more times that night. You kindly declined each time, and then shyly went back to your conversation with your friends at the table you all occupied.

He interrupted your friends and yours conversations multiple times and tried to just strike up one with you, but you quietly and shyly turned away. You wanted to tell him to back off and leave you alone, but you didn’t want to come across as rude or full of yourself- so you didn’t. Maybe you should have?

Your friends gave you worried looks all night about the mysterious- and seemingly obsessive- guy all night. You knew you should leave or call for help but you didn’t want to ruin the one time in ages that you got to spend time with your beloved friends again.

So you stayed.

It was when your friends were starting to leave and the bar was starting to clear out that you thought you would finally head home too. You put your jacket on and said your good-byes to your longtime BFF’s. As soon as they left, you glanced around the room one more time and you saw his eyes on you. Again.

You were scared and panicked. You didn’t want to walk home to your apartment by yourself at this time of night when there was a creepy guy hitting on you all night and still staring at you.

So you called Jay.

The only guy you trusted to get you home safe. You felt protected when he was around and it made you feel good. Maybe it was his muscular figure or the gun he carried at all times- maybe both, but you knew he would help you. Because that’s what he does. He helps people in need. He protects people who need protecting. Like you.

So you pulled out your phone and called him even though it was past 1 o’clock in the morning. You felt bad as soon as you heard his groggy voice.

“(Y/n)?” He asked in a tired but still concerned tone. “What’s wrong?”

You could hear shuffling on the other end of the line, and you assumed it was from him sitting up in bed after you called him at an ungodly hour.

“I need help.” You barely whispered into the phone. Jay heard your voice whisper in a panicky way and he was immediately jolted away by the unexpected sound of urgency in your voice.

“Where are you? What’s happening?” He asked rapidly, and you could hear him walking around his room and you assumed he was getting ready to come to your aid.

“I’m at a bar a couple blocks away from my apartment. I walked here and now I have to walk home but there’s this guy here who has been watching me all night and trying to buy me drinks or take me away from my friends and it’s creepy. He won’t take no for an answer. He’s still here and I’m alone. I’m afraid to walk home by myself.”

“I’m on my way. Stay where people can see you and don’t get off the phone with me. I’ll be there in no time. I’m leaving now.”

“Okay.” You whimpered into the phone. “I’m scared, Jay.”

“I know. I know, it’s going to be okay. Just take a couple of deep breaths for me, okay?” He said, his voice breaking with a dying need to get to you in case the guy was planning on doing anything to you.

You listened to him and took a deep breath in. You counted to four and let it out, before taking in another one.

You kept taking deep breaths. It was like your lifeline. It was your way of keeping calm in a situation that was scarier than one you’ve ever been in so far in your life. You were thankful for Jay. You knew what happened in Chicago. You weren’t stupid. You worked in the medical field. People get kidnapped. People get raped. Especially at night or early in the morning.

You feel weak and helpless. Like you can’t protect yourself. You’re defenseless. You don’t like it. But for now, it was okay. You had Jay. Maybe he would even teach you some self-defense.

“You there?” Jay asked.

“Yeah.” You breathes out.

“I’m right here.” He said. You didn’t know how he knew your exact location, but you didn’t question it since he was a cop and also coming to your rescue at the moment. “I’m coming in and I’ll make sure you get out safely.”

“Thank you.” You whispered, feeling a wave of relief wash over you at the fact that Jay was here and would protect you.

The phone call ended and you saw Jay practically run in the door and looked around the practically empty bar before his eyes landed on you, sitting at a stool by one of many empty tables. By the time you stood up, he was already where you were- engulfing you in a giant hug. You never felt more safe- considering the situation you had just been in.

The feeling of Jay’s arms around you make you feel warm and happy. You felt at ease and protected. You hugged him back tightly.

After a couple of seconds he pulled away and looked you over for signs of injury or anything that could make him want to strangle the creepy guy more than he already wanted to.

After he scanned you over and concluded that you were physically alright, he swiftly pulled you into another tight hug. You face pressed against his chest as his chin rested atop your head.

He held you to him by pressing one of his hands to the small of your back while the other soothingly ran over the back of your head and tour hair.

“It’s okay.” He said. “You’re safe now. You’re safe with me. I’ll always protect you.”

“Thank you.”

#jay halstead #chicago pd #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #jay halstead x reader #chicago shows #chicago pd imagine #chicago med #chicago med imagine #imagine

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crowdvscritic · 3 years ago

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round up // JULY 21

‘Tis the season to beat the heat at the always-cold theatres and next to fans set at turbo speed. While my movie watching slowed a bit with the launch of the Summer Olympics on July 23rd, I’ve still got plenty of popcorn-ready and artsy recommendations for you. A few themes in the new-to-me pop culture I’m recommending this month:

Casts oozing with embarrassing levels of talent (sometimes overqualified for the movies they’re in)

Pop culture that is responding or reinterpreting past pop culture

Stories that get weEeEeird

Keep on-a-scrollin’ to see which is which!

July Crowd-Pleasers

1. Double Feature – ‘90s Rom-Coms feat. Lots of Lies: Mystery Date (1991) + The Pallbearer (1996)

In Mystery Date (Crowd: 7.5/10 // Critic: 6/10), Ethan Hawke and Teri Polo get set up on a blind date that gets so bizarre and crime-y I’m not sure how this didn’t come out in the ‘80s. In The Pallbearer (Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 7/10), David Schwimmer and Gwyneth Paltrow try to combine The Graduate with Four Weddings and a Funeral in a story about lost twentysomethings. If you don’t like rom-coms in which circumstances depend on lots of lies and misunderstandings, these won’t be your jam, but if you’re like me and don’t mind these somewhat-cliché devices, you’ll be hooked by likeable casts and plenty of rom and com.

2. The Tomorrow War (2021)

I thought of no fewer movies than this list while watching: Alien, Aliens, Angel Has Fallen, Cloverfield, Interstellar, Kong: Skull Island, Prometheus, A Quiet Place: Part II, Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, Star Wars: The Revenge of the Sith, The Silence of the Lambs, The Terminator, Terminator 2: Judgment Day, and World War Z. And you know what? I like all those movies! (Okay, maybe I just have a healthy respect/fear of The Silence of the Lambs.) The Tomorrow War may not be original, but it borrows some of the best tropes and beats from the sci-fi and action genres, so much so I wish I could’ve seen Chris Pratt and Co. fight those gross monsters on a big screen. Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 6/10

3. Dream a Little Dream (1989)

My July pick for the Dumb Rom-Com I Nevertheless Enjoyed! I CANNOT explain the mechanics of this body switch comedy to you—nor can the back of the DVD case above—but, boy, what an ‘80s MOOD. I did not know I needed to see a choreographed dance routine starring Jason Robards and Corey Feldman, but I DID. All I know is some movies are made for me and that I’m now a card-carrying member of the Two Coreys fan club. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 6.5/10

4. Black Widow (2021)

The braids! The Pugh! Black Widow worked for me both as an exciting action adventure and as a respite from the Marvel adventures dependent on a long memory of the franchise. (Well, mostly—keep reading for a second MCU rec much more dependent on the gobs of previous releases.) Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 7.5/10

5. Liar Liar (1997)

Guys, Jim Carrey is hilarious. That’s it—that’s the review. Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 7/10

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6. Sob Rock by John Mayer (2021)

It’s very possible I’ve already listened to this record more than all other John Mayer records. It doesn’t surpass the capital-G Greatness of Continuum, but it’s a little bit of old school Mayer, a little bit ‘80s soft rock/pop, and I’ve had it on repeat most of the two weeks since it’s been out. Featuring the boppiest bop that ever bopped, at least one lyrical gem in every track, and an ad campaign focused on Walkmans, this record skirts the line between Crowd faves and Critic-worthy musicianship.

7. Double Feature – ‘00s Ben Affleck Political Thrillers: The Sum of All Fears (2002) + State of Play (2009)

In The Sum of All Fears (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 7.5/10), Ben Affleck is Jack Ryan caught up in yet another international incident. In State of Play (Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 7/10), he’s a hotshot Congressman caught up in a scandal. Both are full of plot twists and unexpected turns, and in both, Affleck is accompanied by actors you’re always happy to see, like Jason Bateman, James Cromwell, Russell Crowe, Jeff Daniels, Viola Davis, Morgan Freeman, Philip Baker Hall, David Harbour, Rachel McAdams, Helen Mirren, Liev Schreiber, and Robin Wright—yes, I swear all of those people are in just those two movies.

8. Loki (2021-)

Unlike Black Widow, you can’t go into Loki with no MCU experience. The show finds clever ways to nudge us with reminders (and did better at it than Falcon and the Winter Soldier), but be forewarned that at some point, you’re just going to have to let go and accept wherever this timeline-hopper is taking you. An ever-charismatic cast keeps us grounded (Owen Wilson, Jonathan Majors, and an alligator almost steal the show from Tom Hiddleston in some eps), but while Falcon lasted an episode or two too long, Loki could’ve used a few more to flesh out its complicated plot and develop its characters. Thankfully, the jokes matter almost as much as the sci-fi, so you can still have fun even if you have no idea what’s going on.

9. Double Feature – Bruce Willis: Die Hard With a Vengeance (1995) + The Whole Nine Yards (2000)

Before Bruce Willis began starring in many random direct-to-DVD movies I only ever hear about in my Redbox emails, he was a Movie Star smirking his way up the box office charts. In the third Die Hard (Crowd: 10/10 // Critic: 7.5/10), he teams up with Samuel L. Jackson to decipher the riddles of a terrorist madman (Jeremy Irons), and it’s a thrill ride. In The Whole Nine Yards (Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 8/10), he’s hitman that screws up dentist Matthew Perry’s boring life in Canada, and—aside from one frustrating scene of let’s-objectify-women-style nudity—it’s hilarious.

10. This Is the End (2013)

On paper, this is not a movie for me. An irreverent stoner comedy about a bunch of bros partying it up before the end of the world? None of things are for Taylors. But with a little help of a TV edit to pare down the raunchy and crude bits, I laughed my way through and spent the next several days thinking through its exploration of what makes a good person. While little of the plot is accurate to Christian Gospel and theology, some of its big ideas are consistent enough with the themes of the book of Revelation I found myself thinking about it again in church this morning. (Would love to know if Seth Rogen ever expected that.) Plus, I love a good self-aware celebrity spoof—can’t tell you how many times I’ve just laughed remembering the line, “It’s me, Jonah Hill, from Moneyball”—and an homage to horror classics. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 7/10

July Critic Picks

1. Summer of Soul (…or, When the Television Could Not Be Televised) (2021)

Even director Questlove didn’t know about the Harlem Cultural Festival, but now he’s compiled the footage so we can all enjoy one of the coolest music fest lineups ever, including The 5th Dimension, B.B. King, Gladys Knight and the Pips, Nina Simone, Sly and the Family Stone, and Stevie Wonder, who made my friend’s baby dance more than once in the womb. See it on the big screen for top-notch audio. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 9/10

2. Good Morning, Vietnam (1987)

Robin Williams takes on the bureaucracy, disillusionment, and malaise of the Vietnam War with comedy. Williams was a one-of-a-kind talent, and here it’s on display at a level on par with Aladdin. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 9/10

3. Against the Rules Season 2 (2020-21)

Michael Lewis (author of Moneyball, adapted into a film starring Jonah Hill), is interested in how we talk about fairness. This season he looks at how coaches impact fairness in areas like college admissions, credit cards, and youth sports.

4. Bugsy Malone (1976)

A gangster musical starring only children? It’s a little like someone just picked ideas out of a hat, but somehow it works. You can hear why in the Bugsy Malone episode Kyla and I released this month on SO IT’S A SHOW?, plus how this weird artifact of a film connects with Gilmore Girls.

5. The Queen (2006)

Before The Crown, Peter Morgan wrote The Queen, focusing on Queen Elizabeth II (Helen Mirren) in the days following the death of Princess Diana. It’s a complex and compassionate drama, both for the Queen and for Prime Minister Tony Blair (Michael Sheen, who has snuck up on me to become a favorite character actor). Maybe I’ve got a problem, but I’ll never tire of the analysis of this famous family. Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 9.5/10

6. The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean (1972)

This month at ZekeFilm, we took a closer look at Revisionist Westerns we’ve missed. I fell hard for Roy Bean, and I think you will, too, if for no other reason than you might like a story starring Jacqueline Bisset, Ava Gardner, John Huston, Paul Newman, and Anthony Perkins. Oh, and a bear! Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 10/10

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7. New Trailer Round Up

Naked Singularity (Aug. 6) – John Boyega in a crime thriller!

Queenpins (Aug. 10) – A crime comedy about extreme coupon-ing!

Dune (Oct. 1) – I’ve been cooler on the anticipation for this film, but this new look has me cautiously intrigued thanks to the Bardem + Bautista + Brolin + Chalamet + Ferguson + Isaac + Momoa + Zendaya of it all.

The Last Duel (Oct. 15) – Affleck! Damon! Driver!

Ghostbusters: Afterlife (Nov. 11) - I’m not sure why we need this, but I’m down for the Paul Rudd + Finn Wolfhard combo

King Richard (Nov. 19) - Will Smith as Venus and Serena’s father!

Encanto (Nov. 24) – Disney and Lin-Manuel Miranda making more magic together!

House of Gucci (Nov. 24) - Gaga! Pacino! Driver!

Also in July…

Kyla and I took a look at the classic supernatural soap Dark Shadows and why Sookie might be obsessed with it on Gilmore Girls.

I revisited a so-bad-it’s-good masterpiece that’s a surrealist dream even Fellini couldn’t have cooked up. Yes, for ZekeFilm I wrote about the Vanilla Ice movie, Cool as Ice, which is now a part of my Blu-ray collection.

Photo credits: Against the Rules. All others IMDb.com.

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nny11writes · 4 years ago

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Hello there. I was reading How to Quit You again and I have a question. What is in the reports on Catra that the Moons keep referencing? Maybe I just missed it in the fic cause my english is not very good. I was just curious.

So, uh, this got a LOT longer than I thought it would and then I started including pictures and basically this got wildly out of hand. Kind of like the fic itself, so I’m not sure what I was thinking lol.

You totally didn’t miss anything! I purposefully left it vague so that people could insert whatever they thought was appropriate (well, inappropriate in this case) there. Essentially to let people ramp things up or down more to their comfort. It was also done in part because back then I wasn’t sure how intense I wanted to make things either. This fic has honestly gotten darker and more mature than I ever thought it would, so leaving it vague has certainly been a benefit to my changing whims lol.

But these days I do have a solid idea for the things that went down. So what I know see happening there is mostly a lot of her mouth getting her in trouble (and not just mouthing off, god Catra wields words like surgical scalpels), but there are a few notable cases where she did physically attack others.

Catra is still in a bit of Horde mindset here so anything she perceives as someone trying to hold power over her or kick her down demands she respond. Because if you aren’t on top, then you’re getting crushed under someone’s boot and Catra has both 1. Long grown tired of being abused and 2. Gotten used to being the one on top. So she responds with more force than needed and uses preemptive strikes to protect herself.

We need a little backstory here so:

When the whole Erlandia thing went down, Catra was 2nd in command of the Horde. Technically Weaver was, but everyone knew that it was actually Catra calling the shots. She’d had Hordak’s favor for years by that point and practically was the boss of their little posse. But Hordak is VERY vicious in this fic since we didn’t have a Horde Prime when I started writing this (If I were to do a full re-write I’d make Prime be the big guy and the characterization would fit so damn well tbh), and he operates under a fuck you model of catch 22. If you mess up you are fucked, and if you are honest about messing up you are only barely mildly less fucked. So if you can successfully lie or deflect the blame then his wrath won’t fall on you, but get caught lying? Woof.

So either way is a great way to end up dead (RIP Mantenna I will release your death fic someday), and the higher up the chain of command you are the farther you have to fall.

(Picture below of the bridge near my hometown I was picturing Mantenna being hurled from in Catra’s place for reference, because I realized no one would understand my falling joke at this point :D)

(Catra had a long way to fall whenever Hordak decided to kick her down)

Once she saw her wanted posters Catra knew she had to flee Horde territory or else she would be captured and probably brutally tortured for weeks before finally dying. And the Horde, who had suffered under Catra’s relentless pace and high expectations (look, they certainly were 400% more efficient at first and then people start dropping for exhaustion and mutiny and worse), they would’ve loved the opportunity to do literally anything they wanted to her. That’s why she ran.

So Catra’s still somewhat in this mindset of “I’m running this operation and if you try to contradict me or undermine me I have full permission to kill you for it” those first few years in Etheria.

Some of the worst of her behavior was actually contained at the Archer’s house where she was living until she got the Brakeman job. (Bow is currently being a little fickle but I am writing from his PoV for another one shot in this AU where he’ll touch on these things a bit too.) By the time she gets that job, Catra is already starting to try and be a better person. Begrudgingly and with a lot of frustration for sure. But she is trying and it’s a painful growing process.

(Hello sir, like that train and view, this is Catra chapter 3 y’all)

So those reports contain her mostly being a smart ass.

But she also verbally eviscerates people, picking them apart piece by piece in public settings. She caused at least one mental breakdown on the tracks where people need to keep their heads for safety.

Think of her like someone on twitter who keeps the receipts (and wisely spends her limited time alive compiling them into a list) and jumps on someone for making a mistake, which she then blows out of proportion while never giving them the chance to learn and grow. All while making every bad faith interpretation she can and poisoning the well. She delights in this, she loves tearing someone down to nothing because it means she WON and she was right, and in the moment people seemed to cheer her on. But afterwards, when everyone else gets tied up in the shame and guilt of their actions she doesn’t and it puts her more on the outs.

The thing about this sort of behavior is that it’s hard to prove when it’s verbal and everyone else involved is too ashamed to admit they participated. So it’s more “hearsay” than anything else. Honestly, kind of like real life there’s a lot of people being told to suck it up, ignore her, or be the bigger person while she is being an outright bully. It’s not right, but it’s what happened.

On top of that, she lies and deflects and blames as well. Nothing can be her fault (because Hordak would’ve killed her, Weaver would’ve tortured her, and worse), so she is conniving and scheming and manages to twist everything so she’s never the root problem even when she is. The higher ups are usually doing their best to interpret what they are hearing (although not always) second or third hand, and Catra can dance verbal circles around her co-workers.

This doesn’t endear her to anyone either.

I hesitate to say as a consequence of her behavior, because that is some strong ass wording, but essentially her coworkers are fed up with being attacked by her. And they decide to get back at her, and they certainly can’t do that through talking or arguing (some have tried, almost all have failed). So a small group of them do physically attack her.

She uses that as justification to be a right bastard and decides to start doling it out again because it’s proof to her that she was right. She absolutely falls back into destructive, awful behavior. Everywhere is just like the Horde, they just hide it better. Catra doesn’t ramp up, but her attacks become more vicious and more directed after that. And this is also when she finally decides that the Archer’s were an anomaly and she absolutely needs to prove that no one can try to get the jump on her.

So the later reports are fewer in number, but more about her being caught or admitting to doing something physically violent instead of her being sarcastic or verbally cruel. These reports range from throwing a single punch to implying she’d attack with a weapon. Mostly it’s small scale (this is when we see Angella talk to Catra in a flashback), but there is one very notable exception.

Catra was working top with a motherfucker who had determined that no one liked her, so he thought he could try to push her around. They were literally assigned together because no one liked either of them, and they were both known for being violent. So the bosses went, “Let them duke it out on the trains, maybe calm them both down!” (Fucking idiots. Why yes, all this gunpowder should be stored next to the lit oil lamp!) She’s trying to keep it together, but she absolutely loses it and goes feral on him. This confrontation happens when she almost kills him by dangling him over the side of the train as they approached a tunnel. It could’ve been the perfect crime, brakeman is a dangerous fucking job for many reason but falling off the train or getting drunk and getting yourself killed isn’t uncommon.

(Think like the miners at Cerro Gordo who would ride the ore carts back up from town, and be so fucking drunk they’d stand up and get their heads knocked clean off their bodies.)

Catra really almost does it too, but the last time she thought she’d had the perfect crime with Weaver she’d been caught and everything fucking fell apart. So she yanks him back to safety, and tells him to fuck off.

Somehow she really thought that would be the end of it (she made her points, made him piss himself, and is now top dog again; good job girlboss), but bastard boy ran to the bosses to report her.

(Look, picture this train going through a slightly smaller tunnel rocking side to side, depending on the rail up to a foot either side, so you would get crushed if you weren’t laying down on top or clinging to the back of the train. You’d be terrified and report someone too.)

This is what Angella is warning Glimmer away over. She’s thinking about this instance, where Catra claims that they did get into a fight and admits to starting it but denies threatening to kill him. He claims that he did nothing wrong while everyone knows he does shit wrong on a regular schedule. And everyone else says, “Well we weren’t there but it sounds like something she’d do.”

Catra is careful to never go too far where it can be proven, and in town she is as polite as can be. Everyone knows she’s a hard worker and slowly but surely she makes a place for herself in the community without even noticing. Most of the folks she works with don’t have the time, money, or energy to build their own reputation as individuals. Company housing was built specifically because the workers were known as being too rowdy. But Catra will burn the candle from both ends to see Bow, Adora, and Glimmer. So Angella is hearing stories from folks in town about that “lovely young woman” and horror stories from the rails about that “hellish bitch”, and she doesn’t know which to believe.

She’s biased in Catra’s favor because she’s seen Catra be good and lovely, she’s biased because her daughter is crushing on Catra, she’s biased for a lot of reasons.

Angella is also a coward and conflict avoidant.

It’s easier to give excuses, or look for reasoning, or even twist the narrative so that she doesn’t have to confront anyone. She won’t have to confront Catra and hurt her, which would hurt Glimmer and Bow. She won’t have to confront her workers either, no need to face them down when they are furious with her for inaction. She doesn’t have to fear a fight or even put her reputation on the line as long as she can “prove” that Catra didn’t go as far as the reports say she does.

I love Angella to death, but the woman has a lot of problems and flaws and isn’t working on any of them. She does care about her workers health and happiness, but not enough to sacrifice her daughters (or herself). Frankly she barely sacrifices her pocket book but she does. Yes she’s semi-capitalist propaganda but this version of the “wild west” is more idealized for sure for sure. :\

Essentially, Catra got fucking lucky that Angella was looking for ways to prove that she was a good person. Because if Angella had actually put her glasses on and faced the truth? Catra would’ve been fired and practically run out of town.

Aaaaaaand that’s what I think was in the reports. :)

#Catra #Angella #Glimmer #glitra #How to Quit You #HtQY #she ra #spop #fanfiction #fanfic #meta #maybe?#backstory for sure #long post #like way longer than I expected #how did I spend almost an hour writing this?????#anyhow #PLEASE ASK ME ABOUT MY FANFICS I AM DYING TO SHARE #:D #thanks for the ask!#I really love diving into the whys of things and sharing this kind of information that /isn't/ needed for the fic to work #but like #fun to know #or #well #'fun' to know you know me and my 'fun' facts!#Anyways Catra did a fuck ton wrong and literally just got lucky enough to get away with it #Catra /also/ was actually being a better person and learning to be a good person #this is a classic not an excuse but explanation type thing #half the fic we see Catra from young Glimmer's VERY idealized point of view where she can do not wrong

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fifteenleads · 4 years ago

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Scientific Method: a process that uses evidence and testing to investigate the unknown, usually following a set of steps in order to arrive at a conclusion.

(Way too tedious. And boring. And so unlike Dazai.)

— An SKK Gakuen AU.

Step One: Make observations.

Most treat it like a "Step Zero", though, to their teacher's dismay. An era of results and instant gratification guarantees zero patience for things that take time.

Chuuya's guilty as charged, of course.

In any case, Dazai is being annoying, as usual.

"Stop blowing raspberries into my ear," he hisses, ducking under his textbook. "It's disgusting as hell."

"Did not," Dazai singsongs in English to the tune of his annoying ringtone. How he manages to even carry a tune despite the bubblegum idol pop blasting from his huge headphones is a mystery, indeed.

Chuuya rolls his eyes at that. "Did, too." He lightly kicks Dazai's leg to get his attention. "Seriously, listen to me. This is important."

Dazai seems to have read his lips, pausing his iPod and taking his headphones off with an annoyed sigh. "What, chibi?"

Ugh, that's definitely intentional.

Chuuya lets that insult slide for now. "I need the budget for the props ASAP," he huffs, arms crossed. "The school festival is already next week, you know."

Five days, to be precise, but Dazai still acts like they still have five weeks. "Ask Higuchi to do it," he drawls, lazily waving Chuuya away. "We still have 120 hours, don't we?"

Dazai turns to him, raising an eye expectantly. Damn him and his lack of sense of urgency sometimes.

That said, though, he always manages to get shit done in time. Every single time, without fail. And Chuuya, in turn, is always baffled at how he does it, every single time.

Today he finds himself asking the same thing all over again. Ugh.

Dazai's still waiting for an answer.

Chuuya's way too tired for this. "120 and counting down," he answers in kind to prove his point. "I need to submit it by today, in case you forgot."

"Higuchi will do it," Dazai simply repeats, wearing his headphones again. "Come back here when you're done. I'll wait for you."

Chuuya opens his mouth, then closes it again. Inhale, exhale. Better.

"Fine," he relents for now, arranging his things. "You'd better still be awake, or I'll dropkick your bony ass to tomorrow. Got it?"

He only gets the same lazy wave in response as he leaves.

When Chuuya comes back to the classroom an hour later, Dazai is fast asleep at his desk, headphones awkwardly displaced around his face.

To be fair, Dazai never said yes at all.

Chuuya could only scratch his head at that. This is one mystery he doesn't feel like solving at all.

Step Two: Ask a question.

Easier said than done, really.

They've been seatmates for more than a year and co-class reps for half that time, but that's about it.

Chuuya had cursed his luck to high heaven and back, and Dazai knew it. Reveled in it, even.

Then he got used to it.

He prides himself in being a good team player for the most part, if nothing else. That said, though, this is the first major event they are handling together, and the weight of the responsibility isn't lost on him.

"—Oiiii. Earth to Chuuya?"

Dazai is staring holes into him, pointed nose a mere fingerbreadth from his. He quickly backs away in surprise, sending the stack of paperwork flying to the ground.

Dazai seemed to have expected this somehow, and he sinks back into his seat while breaking into an amused chuckle.

Chuuya slowly puts up a hand to his face, surely an embarrassing flush of red by now. This is what he gets for getting caught off-guard.

The meeting continues where it left off, with Dazai rattling off a string of numbers while Higuchi notes down everything. Luckily, no one else said anything anymore.

Chuuya's still in his own headspace as he walks home alone, having managed to successfully ditch Dazai for once. He stops at a vending machine for a can of iced coffee, since he'll be pulling another all-nighter.

He gets the hazelnut-flavored one by mistake. A reflex, really.

Downing it in one go, Chuuya grimaces at the nutty aftertaste at the back of his throat. He still doesn't see what Dazai likes about it.

That being said.

Since when has he been this preoccupied with thoughts of Dazai?

"Ever since," a voice from the back of his head whispers.

Chuuya feels his face heat up again at the thought. Traitor.

Maybe he's still only flustered about earlier. He also hasn't slept enough the past days. Also stress from festival prep.

Or, he's only confused. Yup, that's definitely it.

That instantly makes him feel better.

Step Three: Formulate a hypothesis.

1. Dazai's annoying. 2. Dazai's very annoying. 3. Dazai's very, very annoying.

This one goes into the wastebasket, of course— as if he didn't already know that.

Chuuya's eyes trail to Dazai as he reads aloud a paragraph from the textbook.

It gets increasingly difficult to follow along with the lesson at hand when he's absolutely distracted by that rich, warm voice, carefully enunciating each word in the passage.

"Thank you, Dazai-kun," the teacher nods in satisfaction. "You may sit down."

As Dazai takes his seat, he turns his gaze ever so slightly in Chuuya's direction and their eyes briefly meet.

No sparks fly in all directions, but Chuuya feels a faint jolt of electricity run from his chest outward to every inch of his body.

Then Dazai smirks— the bastard.

1. He's definitely riling me up.

Dazai's smug face lasts only for a fraction of a second before it reverts back to one of disinterest.

Chuuya definitely knows better, though: from the dip of his eyebrows to the twitching of the corner of his lip.

2. He can be serious as hell.

Chuuya ends up mulling over his list through last period. He doesn't notice that class is over until Dazai sneaks up on him and quickly blows into his ear.

"Argh— goddamnit Dazai, every single time!"

Dazai sticks out his tongue in response. "That's for ditching me yesterday."

Chuuya groans in disbelief. Petty much?

He will never understand what he even sees in Dazai at all, at this rate.

Surprisingly, the very thought does the trick for him, and he takes note of it in his notebook at once.

"What's that?" Dazai attempts to peek over his shoulder, but Chuuya manages to evade him, snapping the notebook shut and glaring at him. "None of your business."

It only makes Dazai laugh. "Fine, then. I'll find out by next week."

"Is Nakahara here?" Kunikida from the next class calls from outside. Oh yeah, meeting.

"Gotta go," he excuses himself, half-relieved.

And that was that— for now.

Chuuya doesn't look at the third item on his new list until he's home. It's... strange and vague and unlikely as hell, but there it is anyway, in bold, red ink:

3. This might be a crush (???)

Step Three-point-five: Refine the hypothesis.

This is absurd, Chuuya thinks.

He's taken to scribbling his thoughts on a dog-eared spare notebook, since Googling "Do I have a crush on my classmate" was evidently useless.

The result ended up looking like a conspiracy map. Ugh.

Chuuya considers his three-and-a-half pages of chicken scratch before tearing them off.

It feels like he's dug himself into a hole at this point. Not that he minds staying in it, if it means he doesn't have to see Dazai tomorrow.

School festival's tomorrow, though.

Double ugh.

Chuuya honestly thought he was already too old for this shit. No, really.

Now his 15-year-old palpitating... red organ thing is laughing at him for it.

(He still chugs the rest of his coffee anyway. Mmm.)

Running won't solve anything, Nakahara.

Inhale, exhale.

Back to work:

H0 (null): He doesn't have a crush on Dazai. H1 (alternative): He has a crush on Dazai.

There, much more... straightforward.

Dazai would probably laugh at him for misusing a stat concept like this, but it serves his purpose just fine. It's not like he'll find out anyway.

It's one or the other.

(He'd have to decide sooner or later, anyway. Best to strike while the iron is hot.)

Step Four: Gather data.

(Because there's no time to experiment.)

It's only Day One, but micromanaging proves to be more challenging than expected. It comes with being second-in-command though, so Chuuya takes it all in stride.

Dazai, on the other hand, is on his phone, mindlessly scrolling and tapping and humming to himself between listening to the team's reports and ordering everyone else around.

Magnificent bastard's a born leader.

Chuuya peeks at his own phone; stopwatch app's still running

Dazai's been on his mind for... 6 hours now.

(No, really. Despite all the chaos. Yes, he's been keeping track.)

Others:

1. They've been using the same shampoo. The smell of activated charcoal has never been this alluring. 2. They think in the same way, apparently. Higuchi of all people had noticed. "You realized just now?"

And... And!...

3. They've been sharing breakfast for a year now. Bites out of the same bread, gulps from the same bottle of water, the works.

It makes Chuuya run for the nearest faucet to scrub off the blush on his face.

He's only left with cat-scratch nail marks and a soaking wet shirt for it, so clearly he shouldn't have bothered.

Welcome to adolescence.

Dazai is mildly amused when Chuuya returns to the classroom. "Had fun, chibi?"

No thanks to you, stupid beanpole.

Day Two isn't any different, but they're more used to the work by then, so they manage to close up much earlier.

Chuuya and Dazai are the last to leave the classroom, having finished the stocks inventory for Day 3 while everyone else went to enjoy the festival.

It's five PM.

"Ah, freedom!" Dazai yawns loudly as he says this, stretching his arms upward before swinging them around.

Chuuya ducks to the side to avoid getting hit. "Ugh, watch it!"

To his credit, Dazai drops his arms back at once. "Oh. Sorry."

He adds a smile to that. It's beautiful.

How hadn't he noticed that before?

The early sunset bathes the corridor in pale red-orange, as well as their white polo shirts. Dazai's messy hair seems to shine, too, if anything.

Chuuya's reaching up to touch it before he realizes. Greasy but soft.

Also: "You have freckles."

Dazai's confused at the sudden contact. He doesn't withdraw, though. "You, too." A smile. "Faint ones, as small as you are, across your nose."

Then he leans in and traces the cat-scratch marks on Chuuya's cheeks. "You've been distracted since last week. What happened?"

Step Five: Analyze the data.

Step Six: Draw a conclusion.

Step Seven: Share your findings.

...

Wait, wait, wait.

The moment feels like a jolt of electricity and the numbness after, and then some. Those who said people short-circuit were onto something, after all.

Chuuya doesn't register anything for the entire minute Dazai shakes him back to reality.

Then something wet goes into his ear.

He lets out an unholy screech right there and then, instinctively covering his ear in disgust. Dazai, too, has a finger in both of his, face contorted into something between a wince and a grin.

A beat.

Two more.

And Chuuya laughs his head off. He doesn't know anymore.

Dazai does, too, and they devolve into a pair of crazy hyenas— not that anyone would notice.

It's only a good five minutes later that they catch their breath, slumped on the wall, leaning into each other for support.

"You okay now?" Dazai asks him, still trying not to laugh.

Chuuya only huffs loudly in reply. Dazai takes it as a yes.

"Now that that's out of our system,"— and he goes back to business mode— "will you tell me what's going on?"

Hypothesis 2: Dazai can be serious at times.

(He has always been, though.

Chuuya only refused to see it.)

The next thing he knows, their faces are too close for comfort.

Chuuya takes a nervous gulp. It felt more like gasping for air, the way Dazai frowns at him for it.

Hypothesis 1: Dazai likes to rile him up.

(Maybe? Why, though?

Now he's not so sure anymore.)

Maybe it would be wiser to just forget it. This only happened because he overthought many things.

There's still time to back out.

Dazai won't let him, though, if the intense glare he has on now is any indication.

Inhale, exhale.

Moment of truth:

"Here's the deal" Chuuya starts, momentarily avoiding Dazai's gaze as he finds the right words to say. "We've worked together for so long now. And yes, I still think you're annoying as hell."

Dazai merely hums at that, as if he were expecting it. He doesn't say anything, though.

"A lot of times, though, you pull through. Get things done— magnificently at that. I really don't know how you do it, sometimes.

"The past week made me think about these things. Maybe even earlier than that. Who knows? Does it even matter?

"In any case, I realized something."

By now, the sunset is as deep red as his cheeks, and he feels himself burning up inside.

(Running now won't solve anything.

One or the other.)

Chuuya meets Dazai's eyes.

It's now or never.

"I like you," he says with finality. "And that's all you're getting out of me for now."

Chuuya lets out another huff to prove his point, and holds his breath. And waits.

A beat.

Two more.

It's Dazai who sighs in relief.

And what a sight to behold: his lithe form slumping forward against Chuuya's, the tension in his muscles dissipating with the remnants of the afternoon heat.

"Whew," Dazai finally manages after a while, "you finally said it."

"... Huh?"

"I told you, right? I'll find out soon."

"You didn't read my notes."

"Of course not," Dazai laughs. "You /were/ mumbling a little too loud to yourself these days, though. It was easy to piece things together."

Ugh.

Chuuya rubs at his temples. If only he has something to chuck into Dazai's face right now.

It doesn't explain Dazai's exaggerated reaction just now, though...which he isn't at all trying to cover up, unlike all the times he played pranks before. Unless..

...Oh.

It takes Chuuya only a moment: "You—"

"Yeah," Dazai breathes out. "And that's all you're getting from me, too."

No problems there. Chuuya likes straightforward people.

He still headbutts Dazai for it, though. "Payback," he says simply before he hears complaints.

"Fair enough," Dazai mutters under his breath. "We even now?"

"Yeah."

A bit anticlimactic, all things considered, but Chuuya finds he likes it, too.

Now that that's out of his system, though... "Now what?"

It's a pretty loaded question, and they both know it. No one just suddenly admits and enters into... whatever this is, without a plan.

Dazai stares back, just as cluelessly— but not for long: "I think I know what."

Chuuya decides he still doesn't like that grin at all.

"Remember the lab primer in science? There's a certain procedure we follow to investigate what we don't know."

This time, it's Chuuya who slumps. Good lord.

Step Eight: Start over.

For Kiro.

#bungou stray dogs #nakahara chuuya #dazai osamu #soukoku #gakuen AU #mayoi gakuen AU #high school #fluff

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georgiafm · 4 years ago

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big boobs ? what ?? ummm, chile, anyway... soo. hey angels ! xD fun fact ? positions has been on repeat for like 4 days straight <3 i’m c / cely ( she + her ), whatever floats ur boat, i’m a 23 yr old from the eastern tz who’s 110% struggling to adult properly, and i’m rlly not all tht interesting, so let’s move on to The real star here

p.s. i promise i’ll try but 9/10 i am terrible at ims�� 😔 so feel free to hmu on the disco @simp 4 shawn 5ever#1305

chicago’s very own georgia ‘gigi’ madigan has been spotted on madison avenue , with a striking semblance to madelyn cline ! you may know them as @gigipuffs or hitting the front page of tmz as shamed child star gigi goes gaga on pedestrian on broadway street . according to tmz , you just had your twenty-third birthday bash . your chance of surviving new york is uncertain because you’re irascible , but being congenial might help you . things that would paint a better picture of you would be head held high despite the sooty markings of a dirty neck , deafening music blaring from a convertible speeding down residential streets , cherry chapstick on a pouting mouth . ( cisfemale + she/her )

stats.

full name : georgia stormy madigan.

nickname(s) : gigi.

birthdate : sometime in october during ‘97.

zodiac : libra.

sexuality : bisexual / biromantic.

hometown : born in dallas, texas but moved to chicago at age 5 when her mother remarried, then eventually, nyc at 16 after her step-father received a huge job offer.

father : sullivan “sully” madigan-- retired soccer player & hall of famer. now, currently lives in honolulu, hawaii. gigi’s best friend. she goes to him often to either whine about her family, or laze in the sun. leads a normal, modest life with a new family. mellow & altruistic.

mother : gwendolyn mayfair-- talk show co-host ( the view reimagined ). was miss texas in ‘84, then miss america in ‘86. ambitious, but superficial & overbearing.

step-father : michael mayfair-- sports commentator. basically, sukie’s second father as he married gwendolyn while gigi was still young, therefore, was instrumental in raising her. was once sully’s biggest fan, then stole sully’s wife. funny, but flighty & unreliable.

siblings : riley mayfair-- half-sister. 4 years old. if it was still a thing, you’d without a doubt catch her on a toddlers & tiaras episode. keith madigan-- brother. 27 years old. currently serving life in prison for 3 counts of manslaughter. a painful detail the family doesn’t talk about. it always makes gwendolyn cry. it makes georgia’s blood boil.

occupation : host of one of the most popular podcasts in america.

traits : - irascible, sardonic, skeptical, flippant, scatterbrained, tactless, insubordinate. + congenial, benevolent, resilient, individualistic, waggish, uninhibited, candid.

character inspo : pinterest. viola hastings ( she’s the man ), maeve wiley ( sex education ), miley cyrus / ashley o ( black mirror ), alyssa ( end of the fucking world ).

* 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞 : georgia madigan’s most scandalous articles

sully madigan’s problem child throws tantrum on set.

“ i know madigan. nice guy. but that daughter of his is out of control ! ” director leopold lincoln recounts georgia madigan’s horrific attitude.

racy photos of nearly nude georgia madigan leaked !

mental breakdown ? georgia madigan attacks paparazzi !

meltdown madigan at it again ! georgia’s meltdown with boyfriend caught on tape !

disney axes contract with georgia madigan. is this the end for the child star ?

ex disney star’s fall from grace * tmz image of a 19 year old georgia on her hands & knees vomiting outside of a nightclub *

why no one in hollywood wants to work with georgia madigan.

* 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢.

when gwendolyn first learned she was with child, she was ecstatic. she prayed & prayed for a girl. she daydreamed often about what it would be like having a mini her; pictured her in pageants ( dominating the competition if she was anything like mommy ), in ballet, getting their nails & hair done together like close mommies & daughters do.

when she found out she was having a boy, she begrudgingly accepted it as her fate, but vowed to try again, already planning her next pregnancy while still pregnant with her first; a child she'd name keith, &... she liked him okay. the first born always occupies a special place in the heart; but she wanted a girl. ��keith would grow up knowing a subtle kind of rejection. the second time gwendolyn learned she was with child, she was over the moon. this time she knew it'd be a girl-- a psychic had told her so. she didn't listen to anything else the psychic had to say.

* 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐢.

georgia was her mother's perfect little doll... until she wasn't. but until then, she dressed her up, ensuring she only adorned pastels, bought her lots & lots of barbies-- replacing the ones that'd turn up with their heads missing with dozens more-- forced her into hosiery & leotards while the child cried & cried & cried, smiled through the embarrassment when she'd sabotage her own performances at pageants, smiled in polite agony, face colored crimson, when she'd pick georgia up from school with her dresses covered in dirt, pigtails lopsided & drooping sadly. this wasn't what she pictured having a daughter would be like.

but instead of letting up, letting georgia explore her own interests, she pressed on. her sights eventually set on the silver screen. by 6, georgia was crying on disney sets. by 10, she had no more tears left to cry; & what would be the use anyway ? they never worked. by 15, georgia was acting out in a very different way. her father was gone, driven away across the country & an ocean by gwendolyn, her step-father mostly looked the other way, complicit, her brother, in prison-- gwendolyn’s biggest disappointment & heartache. georgia was alone.

* 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐢𝐢.

by 16, georgia had been dropped by disney, & a deep depression would befall her. when she was younger, friday night lights used to glint off of warm starry eyes. her father & step-father would take her to all the games & teach her all the happenings on the field until they made up their own little game of guessing plays-- up until there came a time when georgia would always emerge victorious. she dreamed of following in her father’s footsteps when she was young, but now, it was too late. her youth had been wasted, & she felt utterly drained. she used to think she had all the time in the world, but adulthood was rapidly approaching, & all she could do was lament over all that wasted time.

she eventually dug herself out, some time an ocean away from her mother doing her good, but when she returned home, gwendolyn had replaced her. this time, this baby would be a mini her. like her brother, georgia would come to know a subtle kind of rejection.

generally easygoing & big-hearted, over the years, georgia’s earned a bad reputation she’s undeserving of. while she has difficulty controlling spurs of anger, said anger is never without reason, it’s simply exacerbated. she doesn’t take too kindly to aggressive authority figures or injustice. after she established a podcast on youtube & spotify when she was 20, however ( the subject matter is some of everything; football, soccer, pop culture, racy content, politics, think pieces, philosophy, she even hosts people on occasion to keep things fresh & exciting ), people were finally able to get to know the real her.

#wealthyhq:intro #not me having this rdy for days oop #plotting tomorrow bc ya girl is not present tonight :sob: iykyk #depression tw

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

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Galactica, Chapter 2 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Okay so, to be honest, we really thought that we were doing this for ourselves and that maybe a few people would read it. The fact that so many of you guys have been SO kind and supportive is just lovely and we are infinitely grateful for you all!! Here is Chapter 1. Here’s a link to AO3 if you’d prefer to read there. 💫

Last Chapter: Violet received the thrilling news that Fame intends to promote her to design as soon as she finds and trains a new assistant.

This Chapter: We meet the other department heads.

***

Violet looked out on the conference table one final time, consulting the list in her notebook to make sure that nothing was forgotten. It was Wednesday morning, the 9am monthly creative meeting starting in less than 15 minutes.

The table was set with a light breakfast spread, no one but Trixie and Alyssa ever actually eating at these things, but she had made sure there was a selection of fruits, and that everyone had their favorite beverages besides the ginormous coffee order. Keeping track of the department heads and their various likes and dislikes was almost a job in itself, but Violet had gotten it down to a science.

There were frosted Pellegrinos for Fame, Raja preferring grapefruit juice. Alyssa liked Redbull, Alaska preferred diet Doctor Pepper, Trixie was a regular coke kind of guy while Pearl was a wildcard, but Violet had a good feeling about the chocolate milkshake, since she had heard the rumor that Pearl had been out partying.

Violet had spent most of last night writing the job description for the new assistant, falling asleep with her notebook in hand, only to wake up in a panic at 3 am to realize that the electricity was out yet again. She had slept restlessly for the rest of the night, then missed her first alarm, barely making it to her gym for a shower before coming in to work at 7.30 sharp, and while Violet knew she looked flawless, it felt fundamentally wrong to take a stop at her gym without working out.

The only bright spot so far had been how HR had accepted her initial proposal right away, giddiness bubbling in her chest at the thought that the process of finding her replacement was actually happening.

“- and don’t forget to bring the swatches.”

Raja Amrull was standing by the window, her phone to her ear, a cup of coffee already at her lips as she spoke to her assistant.

Raja Amrull was the chief creative officer, co-founder of Galactica and one of Fame’s very best friends. Violet took a moment to watch her as she gave order after order, her voice filled with a natural authority that always made Violet’s stomach do a flip.

Raja was wearing a mustard fitted pantsuit, the black hair that almost reached her waist put in intricate braids, and Violet knew it was the work of her girlfriend. Raja’s tan skin was practically glowing in the morning sun, the dark brown tattoos on her left hand standing out.

Even though she was in her 40s, 41 if Violet remembered correctly, she still looked every bit the supermodel she had been in the 00’s.

Raja wasn’t a naturally sweet person, but in Violet’s opinion that didn’t matter. She was competent and got her business done, which was something Violet admired in a leader.

“Violet?”

Violet blushed, the sound Raja’s voice cutting through her daydream. She had been so caught up in watching her that she hadn’t actually paid attention, but Raja had never been known for her patience, so she simply snapped, pointing at the room's thermostat, and Violet quickly made her way over, turning it down four degrees to the temperature she knew Raja preferred.

She felt like an idiot for forgetting, and she promised herself that it wouldn’t happen again.

Alaska, head of makeup and fragrances, was the first to arrive. The blonde wasn’t particularly talkative before her third cup of coffee, her every word drawn out in long lazy vowels. Alyssa came second, Violet counting her blessings that the marketing director had shown up on time. Alyssa always got the job done, but getting her anywhere on schedule was always an experience, the woman forever off in her very own world where she was the star of everything.

Fame was third, her first words as she stepped through the door, “Why is no one ready?” and Violet felt her stomach clench.

The meeting wasn’t scheduled to start for another 10 minutes, but that was one of the most terrifying things about Fame. She was never early, she was never late, everyone else was simply supposed to be there the exact moment she wanted them.

Violet was just about to open her mouth to apologize for Pearl, when the woman in question came in through the door.

“Morning everyone.” Pearl smiled, her voice a slow drawl. She was wearing a black turtleneck crop top, a black miniskirt and Violet was pretty sure she could see pieces of golden glitter in her unwashed blonde locks.

Alaska waved, but Fame gave her one single slow judgemental once-over, the kind that Violet had witnessed cause several interns to burst into tears.

“What are you wearing?” Fame’s voice was icy cold, but Pearl only smirked.

“You don’t like it?”

“Did you sleep in your makeup?” Fame reached out, touching Pearl’s chin with a single finger and tilting her head up, turning her face from side to side. “You know how I feel about this mistreatment of your skin.”

Fame dropped her hand, and Violet immediately handed her a tissue. Fame wiped her fingers, giving the now crumpled paperback to Violet, the whole exchange taking less than 10 seconds.

“You smell like an illegal teen party.”

“It’s because I’ve been to one.” Pearl smiled brightly, Fame’s disapproval and rudeness clearly not touching her at all. “Wait until you see the photos. Half the partygoers were wearing our newest print. Trixie was absolutely right-”

Just as Fame said those words, Trixie pushed through the door, the senior creative team of Galactica now all present, to Violet’s relief.

“You rang?” he said with a cheeky grin, earning a fist bump from Pearl.

It had taken Violet months to realize how much of a genius Trixie actually was--his close-shaven brown hair, obvious bald spot, a fondness for colorful t-shirts and love handles all doing everything they could to hide that he was one of the main forces behind Galactica’s success. But Trixie (who’s real name was Brian, though Violet had never heard anyone call him that) was wildly creative, known for his effective management style and outside the box thinking.

While Raja handled the broad creative direction and was the face of the company to customers and consumers, Trixie was in charge of the day to day operations of the design departments. He ruled the design atelier and the tailoring department with a gentle touch, though no one dared cross him, Trixie just as willing as anyone else in the boardroom to do what it took to get the job done.

“I’m sorry I’m late-” Trixie yawned, barely hiding it behind his hand.

“I take it the collection is going well?” Raja smirked, her knife cutting through an apple.

“Don’t even ask.” Trixie groaned, sitting down in a chair, grabbing the coffee - two-pump caramel, whole fat milk - Violet delivered to his hand and drinking it down greedily. “My machine broke and ate most of my prototype.”

“So it’s not here?” Fame raised a brow, but Trixie shook his head, reaching into the paper bag he had brought along.

“I’ve been remaking it all night on Katya’s shitty theater machine.”

“Oh, my poor darling.” Fame leaned against the edge of the table, gently running a hand through Trixie’s buzzed hair. “We’ll get you a new one.” “Thank you.” Trixie smiled, and Violet grabbed her notebook, knowing that Fame without a doubt expected her to find the exact same machine Trixie had broken and get it delivered to his apartment before the workday was over.

***

A knock caught Violet’s attention. She was back in the office, writing out her to-do list from the meeting, her nails clacking away on the keyboard.

“Violet?” Max Malaphany was standing in the door, a smile on his lips. “Is she in?”

Max was an impossibly tall British man, his soft short hair grey, his eyes blue.

“Sorry,” Violet quickly pressed save, turning her chair. “Fame is in a meeting, but I can pencil you in for later?”

Max was Galactica’s main photographer, and one of Fame’s treasured darlings. He had a studio on the top floor, his sure hands and endless patience capturing all in house media, Galactica producing every single shot for their website themself, and while Violet wouldn’t have believed it made that much of a difference, their online portfolio had thousands and thousands of visitors every single day.

“I’ll just wait here.” Max was carrying a portable light table under his arm, and Violet could only guess what would be in his backpack. “I’ll only be a moment.”

If it had been anyone else, she would have protested, ushered them out of her little front office one way or the other, but Max was different. He was one of the few calming presences at Galactica, he never probed, rarely gossiped, and Violet truly enjoyed that about him.

“Do you want some water?” Violet had a mini-fridge under her desk stocked with the most important supplies, since she never knew when Fame’s cravings or the mood of her guests would strike.

“I’d love that.”

She quickly grabbed him a water, and Max settled down in one of the plush armchairs normally reserved for visitors. He didn’t start talking, wasn’t trying to make chit chat that would inevitably turn awkward, which was why Violet had allowed him to stay.

She went back to her memo, working for a little while but her eyes were stinging, and she only barely managed to hide a yawn behind her hand.

“Are you feeling alright, Violet?” Max asked gently.

“What?” In spite of her exhaustion, Violet was in a fairly good mood, and while she didn’t have the sunniest disposition, she wasn’t actively annoyed at the moment. She quickly checked her face in the glass door to the office, smoothing down her hair.

“You look lovely as always, Violet.” Max smiled. “I was only asking because, well, I’ve never seen you slouch before. Are you feeling unwell?”

“Oh…” Violet straightened her back, her fingers in her thick black locks. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Okay.” Max nodded. His expression was so understanding, his manner so patient, that Violet did something she rarely ever did. She offered more information.

“I’m just tired, I-” Violet swallowed down a nervous chuckle, her tongue feeling like it was growing in size in her mouth. “I don’t sleep well these days. The electricity in my building, isn’t, it isn’t very stable, and I keep having these nightmares where my phone runs out of charge so I miss an important call and-”

“Oh dear.”

Violet realized how stupid she had to sound, but she had woken up covered in sweat thinking she had missed calls from Fame, any rest she got broken up by the worry that she wasn’t doing her job.

“I’m sorry. It’s nothing to worry about really,” Violet assured him. “The landlord said they’ll rewire the building-” Max didn’t need to know that her landlord had been promising that exact thing the entire time Violet had been living there, but she didn’t really have any other options, her student debt way too much for her to even consider spending another penny on rent. “I’m sure it’ll work itself out.”

“Well, I wish you the best of luck with that,” he said sincerely. Just then, the door opened and Jaida, the company's CFO, came out.

“Max!” Fame appeared in the doorway, a delighted smile on her face.

Violet’s stomach turned to ice, everything in her begging that Fame hadn’t heard her complain.

“Hello Miss. I know you’re terribly busy, but I wondered if you could spare a few minutes to discuss the test shoot for the new brochures yesterday?”

“Of course, anything for you!” Fame said. She truly was a different person in Max’s presence, Violet noted. Softer and calmer--as most people were.

“Wonderful.”

***

“Oh I don’t know about this light for orange, it’s so ghastly-” Fame was chewing her lip, a lens in her hand as she went over the pictures Max had brought in for her.

“Fame?”

“Yes dearest?” Fame looked up. She loved Max. When Pearl had told her of a British wildlife photographer she had met in LA and bullied into taking her picture, Fame hadn’t been interested. As always, Pearl had proven to have an eye for talent that few could compete with, her social media director not only able to sniff out trends like a bloodhound, no, she knew people, and she knew them instantly.

Max had a rare talent for capturing the natural beauty of an unnatural world, so much of fashion made up of things that didn’t matter, but when he shot, when he turned his lens on someone, he captured all the best they could offer each and every time.

“I heard Ivy moved in with her boyfriend.”

“Mmh?” It was indeed true. Raja’s assistant, Ivy, had been living in the building Fame and Patrick owned for a few years. Fame and Raja had almost gotten in a fight, something that never happened, when Ivy’s house in Queens had been torn down, but in the end Raja had gotten her will, Ivy moving into the studio apartment on the top floor. “She left two weeks ago.”

Fame had meant to find someone else to take the apartment, but that building was special. It wasn’t just an apartment complex, it was a place where she kept her chosen ones, a safe haven she offered to talent that she trusted.

“You know, Violet doesn’t have reliable electricity. In her building. I mean.”

“Oh Max.” Fame smiled, touching Max’s knee. “You have always had such a tender heart.”

#rpdr fanfiction #thedane #veronica #galactica #lesbian au #fashion au #pearlet #violet chachki #miss fame #pearl liaison #trixie mattel #raja gemini #max malanaphy

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tsarisfanfiction · 5 years ago

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Intimidate (Tales From The Heart)

Fandom: One Piece Rating: Teen Warnings: Blood, injury, minor character death(s) Characters: Shachi, Penguin, Law, Ikkaku

The Heart Pirates avoided frontal confrontation when they could. There was rarely any point to them; subterfuge worked so much better and also had the added bonus of not showing their hand to anyone that might be watching.

But they couldn't be avoided forever. Sometimes a battle loomed ahead and there was no real way to escape it. It was those occasions, when Law had enough warning, that he had taken to withdrawing his nakama's vital organs – heart, lungs, liver, kidney, stomach, and whatever else he had time for – from their bodies and depositing them in a secure vault he'd installed inside the Polar Tang for that exact reason.

It was one such day. While there was no guarantee of a fight, and Law hoped it wouldn't come to it, as they approached the docks of the next island there were a few too many pirate flags flying for him to take the risk. Organless, the Heart Pirates had disembarked and gone about their business, procuring supplies and keeping an ear out for any information uttered by a passer-by. Usually there was little to nothing, and this was no exception, to their private disappointment.

While information was scarce, conflict was not.

Shachi surveyed the scene in front of him with ill-concealed exasperation. He just wanted to get back to the Tang, call it a day and flop after reporting back to Law. Having his path blocked by several members of a crew whose flag he vaguely recognised – one of the not-quite Supernovas of that year, weren't they? Nothing special in the New World – was not part of his plan and he yawned, irritated. Unsurprisingly, the other crew weren't too impressed at his less than pleased reaction and took offense.

"Don't you know who we are?" one exploded, and Shachi shrugged noncommittally, somewhat amused by the hypocrisy, especially as at least he was wearing his jolly roger proudly on his chest where it should be clearly visible to the goons in front of him. If they'd seen it, they were ignoring it. Then again, they did have him outnumbered, from appearances (Shachi was well aware of Penguin trailing behind in the previous alley, Ikkaku just around the corner and Law himself a little way up the street). Taking his reaction to mean he didn't, he was subjected to a proud tirade of their identity, the identity of their captain, and some of their more 'impressive' feats.

Shachi had never understood the need for posturing. It just came across like a load of hot air to him, no matter what the crew's strength was. Then again, the first time he'd heard a bunch of pirates posturing it had been accompanying a slaughter he was never going to forget, so that probably contributed to his distaste.

"You've made your point," he drawled when they paused for breath. "Now are you going to let me through? I have better places to be." Things rubbed off on you when you spent twelve years with Trafalgar Law, including the penchant for winding annoying people up.

They were distressingly predictable, drawing hidden weapons and charging him as one. For a crew in the New World, it was hardly impressive, although as Shachi evaded the first strikes he had to admit that they did have the prowess to back their boasts up. Law wasn't going to be happy about him biting off more than he could chew, again, but Shachi knew his nakama would be drawn by the commotion so he was hardly worried.

Keeping his own blade sheathed for the moment, he swung out with a leg, turning the movement into a backflip as the first pirate dodged and another charged at him in a co-ordinated attack. There was an exasperated noise from behind him as he leapt up, directing the next pair to charge him towards each other. Annoyingly, they were experienced enough to not hit each other, but Shachi really needed to stop expecting that in the New World.

"You bitch!" he heard one of them curse, and grinned as Ikkaku's response was an impressive roundhouse. Penguin was also running towards the commotion, and as Shachi landed from his latest aerobatic stunt he found himself back to back with the older man.

"What did you do?" Penguin complained as the pair of them drew their knives simultaneously to parry the blades aiming for their faces.

"Nothing!" Shachi defended himself, pushing his initial attacker back and lashing out with his foot at another's abdomen. The connection was solid and he grinned as the man skidded back, clutching at his stomach while throwing Shachi a murderous look. Such things had stopped intimidating Shachi long ago and he just gave a cheeky grin in response before going on the offensive, catching his target off guard and slamming him to the ground.

"I don't believe that for a second," Penguin retorted, his blade coated black as he drove it between the third and fourth ribs of his current opponent. The man dropped and he turned his attention to the next pirate.

"You bastard!" The call was accompanied by the sound of a gunshot and Shachi scowled as he sidestepped the bullet. Bringing guns to a knife fight was cheating.

Even with one already down, and Ikkaku and Penguin backing him up, they were still outnumbered. Of course, being outnumbered meant nothing by itself, but while weaker than the Heart Pirates, the crew were no slouches and it wasn't long before the blood was flowing on both sides. Ikkaku was holding her left arm whenever the chance arose, while Penguin was favouring his right leg and Shachi was cursing the gash in his right shoulder, which was particularly annoying when he had to parry rather than dodge.

However, the Heart Pirates had one advantage over the other crew, and Shachi was the lucky – unlucky? Law was going to be mad – one that got to demonstrate as his shoulder gave out at the wrong moment and a knife buried itself firmly in his chest. He jerked, his body reacting to the fatal wound as if it was actually fatal, and he saw the other pirate's face split into a grin as he stumbled back a step.

The grin faltered when Shachi didn't topple, but rather straightened and transferred his knife to his left hand, dismissing his right shoulder as useless until Law got his hands on it.

"What was that supposed to be?" he asked, spinning the knife in his hand for a moment before finding his grip on it. Blood gathered in his mouth and he spat it out, his lips stretching into a grin. A single drop of the blood trickled down his chin, and the man stumbled back.

Another knife plunged into his back, and Shachi laughed, turning around to kick the culprit away.

"What's that face for?" he asked the first one to stab him, who looked like he'd seen a ghost. "Don't you know what I am?"

"If you can bleed you can die!" one of the pirates declared. Shachi neatly side-stepped his lunge and brought his own knife down on the man's back.

"A little scratch like this isn't going to do anything," Shachi helpfully informed the one still standing, stepping forwards into his reach. Instead of taking advantage of Shachi's proximity, the man stumbled backwards, face white as a sheet.

"Y-you-" he spluttered. "You- You're- M-Mon-"

"I'm a Heart Pirate," Shachi grinned, stepping forwards again. "It's going to take more that this to stop me." He put the man out of his misery with a neat slash to the throat before turning back to see how Penguin and Ikkaku were doing.

"You spent too long playing around," Penguin scolded, wiping his knife on one of his fallen opponents' tops. Shachi shrugged and immediately regretted it. His shoulder protested loudly, and while he'd hidden it from his opponents, getting stabbed hurt. He sheathed his knife before pressing his left hand to the wound in his chest, feeling the blood still trying to gush out. His heart might not be where it should be, but that didn't mean his blood vessels were all absent too.

"I can't take you anywhere," Law complained, finally arriving at the scene and heading straight for Shachi, nudging his hand out of the way long enough to assess the wounds. "Back to the Tang with you before you faint." Shachi had no complaints with the order, considering he was starting to get light headed – maybe one of the knives had caught an artery, that would be annoying – and started to head back to the submarine, accompanied by his nakama.

He didn't quite make it back before the dizziness got too much, but that was okay because Law was there.

"I don't do this so you can pull suicidal stunts," he heard his captain grumble. Shachi just laughed as warm arms caught him and everything went dark.

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #heart pirates #tales from the heart #tsari writes fanfiction #trafalgar law #penguin #shachi #ikkaku

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ikenbar · 5 years ago

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Mr. Love: Ike’s Choice

Author’s note:

This story is one of my own OC for the game Mr. Love: A Queen’s Choice. Except for Ike and her family, all the characters belong to the creators of Mr. Love: A Queen’s Choice. This fan fiction will contain spoilers for the game so, if you haven’t played it yet or are not caught up to Chapter 18 in the game, this is your warning. (Though it will take me quite a while to get to any sort of spoiler and I will mark it as such when it comes to it so you have time :P) This is merely a fan fiction of the game containing my own character and her story. None of this is cannon. All that said, Mr. Love is such an amazing game. It’s so much more than just some Otome mobile game. Its story is intriguing, and the gameplay is addicting in the best possible way. The development team are so respondent and understanding and honestly just want you to enjoy their game. I have! And I will! And I plan to show how much I do through this Fan fiction! I’m honestly just here for a good time so let’s have fun! Right? I plan on posting on Wednesday/Thursdays so stay tuned!! I want to show you guys the world I have been making for so long and my love for this game. So, let's get started, shall we? :D

Warnings: Talk of death (it’s just talk. There’s no real death. More like existential dread), Talk of abuse (this is just character development. It’s not an angst I swear), Grammar mistakes (I tried cleaning this the best I can but I may have missed somethings. I’m sorry ^^;), fluff, and cliffhangers. A lot of them. Prepare for one heck of a story

Chapter one:

Part one:

There is no such thing as a good way to die. Death is death. There is absolutely no way death could be justified. But that is the last thing you are thinking when it is your life that is at risk. The first thing of course being, “I hope he doesn’t miss me.”

>>>

It was hard to believe that I had been working as a producer for Ike ’n Bar Production Company for nearly two years now. I founded this company alongside my foster father, Bartholomew Schmidt. Bart had an opportunity to create something. Something that would bring love and entertainment to children and adults alike. Something that would bless the world with its presence.... He couldn’t make it past week one, so he called me in.

I am not one that wavers from the facts. There is a place for everything in this world and I do my best to put everything in that place. I didn’t spend four years of my life studying the answers of the world to be creative. So, when Bart turned to me for help with his new show idea, I was more than reluctant to help.

“Come on.” He begged wrapping his hands around each other, “They won’t let me pitch the idea until the plot holes are fixed. You’re the only person I know who will tell me exactly what is wrong without sparing my feelings!”

“Your TV show idea is a waste of my time.” I deadpanned.

“See?!” Bart stared at me with pleading eyes, “Just read the pitch... please?” After a couple minutes of awkward silence to finally cave. I read it over once. Then twice. Then a third time. I still had no idea what the show was about.

“So, let me get this straight.” I sighed, “It is a sitcom about a teenage girl, who happens to be an alien, living her life as a normal teenager.” Bart nodded excitedly. “But her family and friends have no idea what she is. And she has to keep the powers secret because… reasons.”

“See?!” Bart laughed, “You get it! For some reason the network thought it was confusing.”

“...I’m going to say this, and I want you to keep an open mind.” I handed the pitch back to Bart, “The show stinks. We are scrapping this idea and coming up with a new one.”

“Oh come-...we?”

“There is no way you are going to make it through this business alive without me. So, let’s talk about an idea that isn’t overused and unoriginal and actually has some taste.”

“.... Did you just hire yourself on my team?”

“Yes. Do you have a pen and paper on you? Someone should be taking notes.”

The new show we had pitched to the network was a hit. A sitcom about a family of robbers evading the police. They are trying to have a normal life as they live on the lamb. We called it, Show Me the Honey. Sending our average amount of views over fifty thousand. We worked on that show as we pitched others and made a name for ourselves and the company. Since I wasn’t one for limelight, Bart took care of the field work as I worked as the co-head of Ike ’n Bar Productions from behind a screen and in my office.

Things were just the way they should be. With me out of the way. Maybe if things stayed that way, I wouldn’t be where I am now. I could be at that desk right now. Working on the next show. Calling on my assistant for a coffee. Telling off the latest intern for screwing up the order of the files. I could even hear my father’s voice again as he calls me with updates from the field. But sadly, all good things must come to an end. This end started with one name. Victor.

“Victor?”

I repeated to Bart over the phone, stalling my note taking on the pad next to me. I was at my office that Monday afternoon. The sun was shining through the window behind me and onto my large, glass, desk. The sunlight reflected off my screen and into my eyes, causing my already rotten mood to worsen.

“Yes!” He excitedly sang, “You have an interview with him today at three!”

“That’s in two hours.”

“Right!”

“...Bart. This man is the CEO of LFG.”

“Correct!”

“Loveland Financial Group.”

“Wow, Ike! You’ve sure got this down!”

“...OK hold on, you want me to go to the head of the largest leading investor in all of Loveland and ask him for funding on a TV show that hasn’t even been green lighted yet?! And you want me to prepare for it in under two hours.”

“Oh, come on. Saying it that way makes it sound bad.” Bart pouted. “Miracle Writer is going to be a hit! And we are a well-known company! It's not like we are asking too much from them! Just a little something to start us off. Besides I already told him that my amazing co-head, Ike, was going to be meeting him so there is no backing out now.”

“Bart, why aren’t you going? Aren’t interviews your thing?”

“They are but… I’ve heard some ghost stories about Victor.”

“Ghost stories?” I skeptically muttered as I held my throbbing head in my hands.

“I hear he tends to be… stubborn when it comes to funding companies.” Bart said this in a low voice as if Victor would appear behind him to overhear his words.

“Oh, and you’re informing me about this now instead of a few days prior so I could prepare for such an important interview with him. Makes sense.”

“Ike, I know it’s a little out of nowhere-”

“A little?!” I scoffed lifting my head back up and pulling my bushy brown hair out of my eyes as I arched my eyebrows uselessly to the receiver.

“But just hear me out, ok?” Bart pleaded helplessly. I stayed silent. Bart continued, “Victor is known to be brash. He rarely, if ever, smiles. In fact, his poker face is known to strike fear into even the strongest of soldiers. He yells more often then he praises. His stance towers over most people and it sends a level of power that is like none you have ever seen. But most importantly, he is extremely close minded when it comes to lending his money. So, it would need to take a strong headed and strong-minded person to get through to him. To make him see that they are worth every dollar of his-”

“And you want me to do the interview because he reminds you of me.”

“Man, I can’t get anything past you.”

Bart had a point. I have a tough time with my emotions. Let alone other people’s. I am known to be inscrutable in the office and outside of it. In my defense, my tactless rule over the office is why everything runs smoothly. No one second guesses my commands and, if they do, it would result in an outcome that could only ignite more fear towards me. Besides, showing no emotions trains the mind to adapt and overcome the words of others. Which helps suggesting the amount of words the office has to say about me narrows down to about four letters.

The main reason I don’t mind it all though is because Bart is loved in the office. His bright and fun-loving attitude is a refreshment for everyone there. They all welcome him in with open arms and follow his every word with preciseness. He is so soft with them and normally brings free lunches for the office when he visits. Of course, all that sweet talk makes him a doormat when it comes to asking for things from him, but no one would take advantage of that. And get away with it that is.

Bart can barely talk to me without cowering under my intensity when we are face to face. I can’t imagine what Victor would do to him. He’d probably chew him up and eat him alive.

“Fine.” I caved, “If I’m doing this, I need to start working now. So, I have to go.”

“Ikamara Bikira, you are a lifesaver!! Thank you, thank you, thank you!!”

I groaned slightly as I hung up the phone. Interviews made me uncomfortable. How do you start it off? Do you need to make small talk? Would it be rude to just jump into the subject at hand? Should you address people by their first name or something a little more formal? Do I need to smile the whole time? Or should I be serious from beginning to end? I rubbed my temples to soothe my growing headache.

“That man is going to be the death of me.” I muttered under my breath. Though this isn’t the first time he has thrown me under the bus, I owed him my life. He and his wife, Maria, were the first foster family to take me in and want to keep me. I had been through five foster homes before theirs and I had the scars to prove it. I rubbed my arm as I recalled the memories. The first home sent me to a sort of bootcamp. The second home neglected me. Third home gave me too much of the wrong kind of attention. Fourth home made me lose parts of myself. Including feeling in my left arm and my voice. And the fifth home... Snapping back to reality, I smoothed out the sleeves to my shirt and saved the sad excuse of a report on my computer. I can’t let Bart down. It’s just an interview. I can do this. I reached into the cabinet next to my desk for papers on out new show “Miracle Writer” and a couple pods of Advil.

Stuck in traffic, I impatiently tapped at the handles of my motorbike. Normally traffic at that time wasn’t too bad but for some reason, we were at a standstill. Unable to rub away my ever-increasing headache, I looked impatiently down the line of cars ahead of me. They were stalled at one stoplight. Even though the light was green on our side, the road was blocked by another line of cars ahead of them. Keeping the car in front of me in my peripherals, I unzipped my leather jacket and pulled my phone from inside my blazer. I opened my moments and checked trending. “Super Star, Kiro, Signs New Albums at The New Light Mall.” So that’s why traffic is so horrible. The line of cars blocking the road must be the line of fans heading to the New Light Mall. I looked enviously at the line. Though immensely irritating, I would kill to be a part of that line if it meant I got to meet Kiro.

Kiro was an inordinately talented superstar. The spunky blond-haired, teal eyed man was very popular among teens and adults alike. He was an idol among millions for his talents. Which varied from acting to singing to dancing to even fashion. It seems like this young boy was too good to be real. Many believed he had the superpower to woo people with one glance. I, of course, found this difficult to believe…. Though even I found it hard not to enjoy his presence.

In fact. I was a very big fan of his. He just so happened to be my idol. His music was the main thing that got me through so many things. Moving from foster parent to foster parent, when I had become selectively mute, moving to a new school, the events of the fifth foster house. Kiro meant more to me than most things in my life. But you’d never catch me screaming his name or crying at the sheer thought of him. I had self-control. I had to have it. If any mention of me being a fan of Kiro in the office and my tough manager cred would be flushed down the drain. I had to keep my obsession closeted at all costs.

The cars ahead of me started slowly moving again so I put away my phone and slowly followed. The cars stopped soon after. I moaned and checked the time on my watch. 2:30. Maybe walking to LFG would be faster than this.

Finally, my bike slowly rolled up to the stoplight. Past this light, the traffic was much more free-flowing. I was the second vehicle in line. I could almost smell the freedom. My eyes lazily drifted to the sidewalk next to the stoplight pole. There stood a young man staring intently at his phone. He wore a black baseball hat, a red and white hooded t-shirt, and black jeans. He also wore accessories containing a pair of bulky headphones around his neck and a pair of sunglasses. I looked up at the sky. Dark clouds covered most of it. Why was he so heavily protected from the sun?

The APS from the other side of the street started beeping, signaling to a group of pedestrians that it was time for them to cross. The man started impulsively making his way to the street, not paying any attention to the fact that it was not his turn to walk. I watched as a yellow sports car started making its way down to the light and straight towards the man. I looked up at mine helplessly. Still red. I checked my watch. 2:45. I didn’t have time for this.

I cursed to myself and pulled my bike to the side of the road. I quickly pulled out my keys and dashed down the crosswalk and to the man. The car drove closer to the light. The car’s horn finally started blasting which finally pulled the man’s attention off his phone and to the road. He froze in place as the car came speeding towards him. I jumped off the ground and dove into the man, shoving him off the crosswalk and back onto the sidewalk. Safe from the sports car that now had zoomed past the light and down the highway. I lay on him protectively as I caught my breath. I pushed myself onto my hands and caught the last glimpse of the car before it sped out of sight.

I cursed at it uselessly. I sighed and finally looked down at the man. “You O-” I held my breath. The fall had knocked the hat off the man, revealing wild, bright, blond hair. The sun shone onto his sunglasses just enough to show his teal eyes sparkling as he made eye contact with me. My eyes went wide. It couldn’t have been him. There was no way it was him.

“You- you saved my life!”

It was him. There was no way you could mistake that mesmerizing voice of his. Especially if you listened to him as often as I did. It was a higher-pitched voice but there was a sense of joy with every word he spoke. As if merely speaking was a gift to him. As hearing it was a gift to me.

“Thank you!” Kiro smiled at me.

(Next)

#mlqc #mlqc fanfic #mlqc victor #mlqc kiro #mlqc oc #mr love fanfic #here goes nothing #i have so much fun writing this but the anxiety i get with posting it is almost overwhelming pfft #it doesnt matter though #im writing this for fun #this will be something amazing i can feel it #thank you for reading #next post on Wednesday or Thursday #:D

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mizzy636 · 6 years ago

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Things found in the Hogwarts Staff Room of @shanastoryteller’s survival is a talent, as thought of by @kerov and me:

Countdown Until the Weasley Twins & Co Graduate (Begun at the end of their first month when it became obvious the Marauders had found their spiritual legacy)

Countdown Until Quinn Graduates (Separate from the Weasley Twins despite being the same number because zir antics require it, begun mentally by Snape but has since become one of the most updated by the entire staff)

Countdown Until Potter & Co Graduate (Begun after the troll in first year because it was the first sign of the chaos to come, now updated religiously by at least half the staff each day, with everyone who can attend the update arriving)

Countdown Until Malfoy Graduates (Begun in 4th year due to Draco’s crazy becoming more obvious to more than just Flitwick, Lupin, and Snape (who had already had mental countdowns) and worrying the professors that he’s going to put himself in an exhaustion-induced coma with how much he’s trying to do, and it’s only getting worse)

Countdown Until Ginny Weasley & Co Graduate (Only added in their second year (Harry’s third) when it slowly became obvious which of the youngest two Weasley children was more like the Twins)

It Has Been __ Days Since a Weasley Twin Prank (The highest number it ever reached was 5, and that was due to them being so busy between detentions and, more importantly, Quidditch practice in their 5th year (Harry’s 3rd) to win the Cup that year that they were too exhausted to plan any pranks – the professors celebrated that number for a week straight)

It Has Been __ Days Since Quinn Blew Something Up (Begun by Snape well before it was put in the Staff Room due to zir love of blowing up cauldrons)

It Has Been __ Days Since Quinn Fucked Something Up (Yes, it needed its own countdown, the staff realized; there was a major difference between the two)

It Has Been __ Days Since Malfoy Did Something that Should Have Been Impossible Even With Magic (Begun during 4th year when he continually did what should have been impossible throughout the year, to the point they were resigned to it rather than shocked)

It Has Been __ Days Since Potter & Co’s Last Nonsense (Begun by McGonagall after she caught them out of bed due to Norberta in first year, since it reminded her of the Marauders, and the others joined in as they caught on that they had already done way too much nonsense for simple first years and it wasn’t a good sign)

It Has Been __ Days Since Potter Ended Up in the Hospital Wing (Madam Pomfrey began this countdown during his second year, and others were quick to follow it; the only reason Draco doesn’t have his own is because he has yet to end up in the hospital wing, but there are most certainly bets going on about when he will end up in there and gain his own count in the Staff Room)

It Has Been __ Days Since Finnegan Blew Something Up (Begun within a month of him entering Hogwarts as he quickly became notorious for his love of fires and explosions)

It Has Been __ Days Since a Quidditch-Related Fight (This has been around for as long as Quidditch has been at Hogwarts, and its numbers are always smallest before a match, especially the Gryffindor-Slytherin one, and highest during the off-season, but even during the off-season it gets reset occasionally)

It Has Been __ Days Since a Couple was Found in a Broom Cupboard by Staff (Begun before any current professors could name, it was a simple way for professors to tell the rest of the staff that yet another couple was stupid enough to be caught in a broom cupboard, rather than having to actually mention it to one another)

It Has Been __ Days Since Gryffindor Caused School-Wide Rumors (Notorious for having one of the smallest numbers, most years, though apparently in 1768 they went an entire school year without it being reset; there’s a plaque for that year)

It Has Been __ Days Since Slytherin Caused School-Wide Rumors (Often competing with Gryffindor for most often reset, especially since Voldemort began to rise in the 70s, though even before then resets were common)

It Has Been __ Days Since Hufflepuff Caused School-Wide Rumors (More often reset than some may guess, but they also hold the title for some of the most insane rumors that float around that were actually proven true, like the time they made a tunnel out of Hogwarts and ran the smuggling ring of the castle for over a decade back in the 1850s-60s)

It Has Been __ Days Since Ravenclaw Caused School-Wide Rumors (Least commonly reset, but almost every single reset occurred due to experimentation with magic that caused either an amazing result or destruction)

It Has Been __ Days Since a School-Wide Disaster (While recently this most often coincides with either Harry & Co’s Last Nonsense or a Weasley Twin Prank (or the Marauders before them), it has historically been reset due to events such as the Chamber of Secrets being opened, an epidemic of a disease, Peeves causing a huge mess (with student assistance), the house elves going on strike and not cooking for over a day straight, creatures from the Forbidden Forest trying to invade the castle, the giant squid finding its way into the Black Lake, etc.)

It Has Been __ Days Since the Last Unexplained Phenomenon (The origin date of this count is unknown and likely goes back to near the time of the Founders; it is just constantly kept in the Staff Room and updated when necessary)

It Has Been __ Days Since the Defense Professor was Hired (Begun when the curse on the position was noticed, it became a source of amusement for many professors to see which Defense professor survived the curse the longest before a new professor took over; this is one count that is usually charmed to be hidden from said professor, of course)

__ Days Until Potter’s Annual June Bullshit (Begun after second year when they realized this was going to be an annual event and there wasn’t enough alcohol in the castle for them to be dealing with this)

List of the Most Insane Pranks Pulled by the Weasley Twins

List of the Worst Fuck Ups Quinn Managed

List of the Insane Situations Potter & Co Found Themselves In

List of Impossible Magic Malfoy Pulled Off

List of What Sent Potter to the Hospital Wing Again

List of Unique Quidditch Injuries (Harry’s broken arm to no bones at all made this list)

List of Insane Quidditch Stunts (Harry’s first match definitely made this list)

List of Unique Hospital Wing Visits (Hermione’s Polyjuice Potion incident is on it)

List of the Worst Student Fuck Ups (In the Classroom and Out of It)

List of the Most Unique Places Couples Were Found Together

List of School-Wide Disasters

List of the Most Insane Reasons for Gryffindor School-Wide Rumors

List of the Most Insane Reasons for Slytherin School-Wide Rumors

List of the Most Insane Reasons for Hufflepuff School-Wide Rumors

List of the Most Insane Reasons for Ravenclaw School-Wide Rumors

Lists From the Past (Stored in a cabinet of the Staff Room for anyone curious to look at):

Countdown Until the Class of 1978 Graduates (Begun early in their first year due to the Marauders but then gaining even more followers of it as more and more of the year caused problems such as Snape and Evans and their friends; that class couldn’t graduate soon enough for the professors’ sanities)

It Has Been __ Days since James Potter Asked Lily Evans Out (Because really, it got to be a way too common thing and the staff were curious to see how high it could go before they reset it; that number was actually 64 in their 6th year near the end when he began to finally calm down and mature)

It Has Been __ Days since James Potter was in Detention (This number remained ridiculously low until his 6th year, with the record being 14 days and that only due to Quidditch)

It Has Been __ Days since Sirius Black was in Detention (His and James’ lists were usually reset at the same time, to absolutely no one’s surprise)

It Has Been __ Days since Remus Lupin was in Detention (Of the Marauders, his count reached the highest numbers, but even his was reset at least every other month for most of their time at Hogwarts)

It Has Been __ Days since Peter Pettigrew was in Detention (Somewhere between James/Sirius and Remus, Peter’s record was just shy of a month at 27 days before their 6th year)

It Has Been __ Days since Severus Snape was in Detention (A large majority of his detentions were caused by fights with the Marauders, but some were due to experimenting with potions with Lily and blowing something up)

It Has Been __ Days since Severus Snape and/or Lily Evans Blew Up a Cauldron (They were the Quinn of their era, constantly experimenting with potions and blowing something up, hence his exasperation with Quinn and why the professors that had taught him were subtly and not-so-subtly laughing their asses off at how ze was what he deserved, until they realized ze got progressively worse each year and it started affecting them too)

It Has Been __ Days Since a Fight Between Slytherins and Gryffindors (Influenced by the fighting due to the war occurring outside of Hogwarts between Voldemort and Death Eaters and those who opposed them, this was much more common in the 70s than it is in the 90s, so it was retired after Voldemort’s “defeat” in 1981)

It Has Been __ Days Since There was a Magical Creature Running Loose in the Castle (Begun during Newt Scamander’s time as a student, it was retired after he was expelled, believed to be unnecessary, only for Hagrid to become a student and require its resurrection; the staff didn’t realize it until after he was expelled and could then have his creatures near him on the grounds by his hut, finally revealing the source)

#this is what happens when kerov and I are allowed to create headcanons together #especially ones related to a fic we both adore #it was so much fun writing this #even though it got way more elaborate than either of us expected #my fault #i'm still a writer and it likely shows lol #those poor staff members dealing with all this shit #shanastoryteller #siat #kerov #harry potter #hp #headcanons #most could even be considered canon lol #mine #my post

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haddonfieldproject · 4 years ago

Text

<<PREVIOUS⏺<<CONTENTS>>

1.2.9 HALLOWEEN NIGHT/NOVEMBER 1st 5:13 AM

Warren County, Illinois

While that call did not succeed in waking up Kyndra and Zoey, the aforementioned Diego was woken up, however, by his co-worker Quinn, as he lay napping on a tattered sofa in the SuperFuel Deluxe's break room.

“Diego!”

Diego grunted.

“Diego, get up,” Quinn slapped him with a blue rag.

Diego sat up and rubbed his eye.

“Customers.” Quinn said.

Diego blinked awake. The TV was on. A man with fake looking blonde hair stood in front of a map coated with splotches of reds, oranges, and yellows.

“ Lightning strikes have been reported just about everywhere as this severe cell moves through Warren and Carpenter counties. Listen up if you are in the areas of Russelville, Haddonfield, Langdon, Tuckerville...you are under a Severe Thunderstorm Warning and Tornado Watch ‪until 7:45 am‬. Check out this picture someone posted on social media, that's softball sized hail folks...this reported by Zeke, a custodian working late ‪night tonight‬ at Smith's Grove High School, so be careful out there folks.”

Thunder struck and the lights in the shop momentarily dimmed. Customers, Diego thought, in this storm?

Diego stood up and stretched and then grabbed his Mountain Dew he had swiped from the coolers a few hours ago. Stepping into the shop, he sure enough saw some guy was talking to Quinn, standing next to an old-ass station wagon. The kind that had the wood panels on the side. The bottom was eaten away with rust. Diego was surprised the thing was even running at all, and one of the first things he noticed were the California plates. The lifeless remains of a tire lay snaked around a severely dented rim on the front passenger side. Must have hit a curb without even braking, he thought.

Quinn pulled a clipboard off the dark blue tool bench next to him and said, “We actually just had one of these die on us last week and it's back there in the yard. We can replace the tire and the rim and fix up those tie rods and struts in a jiff. You got really got lucky, because otherwise you'd be waiting at least two days for parts.”

The man's eyes grew wide, “Are you serious?! That's a miracle if I ever heard one.”

“I'll say,” Diego chimed in, “What year is this?”

“1989 Ford Country Squire” Jack Tate said proudly.

“Wow,” Diego laughed. “Quinn's right, we literally just got one of these in, the drive train fell apart in our hands, literally fell apart. But it was much more beat up than this.”

“You don't say!?” Jack put his hands on his hips.

“I couldn't help but recognize the California plates,” Diego motioned to the back of the car, dropping to one knee to examine the wheel well.

“Yep,” Jack said, rubbing his chin, “We're from a small town in Northern California, between San Jose and Sacramento. It's called Summer Glen.”

“Bet you don't get much snow there,” Diego said from under the car.

“Nope..but I bet you guys do.”

Diego appeared from under the lopsided tire with a smile, “Buckets,” he replied, “And it wreaks havoc on an undercarriage.”

“I bet it does” Jack replied.

Diego stood up and wiped his hands on his coveralls. “Well, not so much the snow,” he said, “it's the salt they salt the roads with. Eats the bottom of the car all up.”

“So what do you do?” Jack asked.

“Heated car wash,” Diego said, reaching out his hand to Quinn for the clipboard.

“I saw signs for those on the way in, all over the place up here,” Jack said, “But I saw signs but then it looked like empty parking lots.”

Quinn smiled and handed Diego the clipboard, “With steam coming up?”

“I didn't see any steam,” Jack replied.

“They're probably turned off right now.” Diego remarked, looking over the paper on the clipboard.

Quinn whistled, “Whew don't I know it. It's been hotter than a hippo with a hernia.”

“Hmmm,” Jack grunted in agreement, “Climate Change.”

Quinn hissed, “Hogwash! I don't believe that bullshit for a second.”

Jack quickly changed the subject, “Anyways—err--how do car washes help your car in the winter?”

Quinn nodded, “You drive over the jets and they hose off your undercarriage with heated water”

“That's fascinating,” Jack smiled.

“Well,” Diego sighed, “We have the parts already so we'll charge you a $90 restocking fee, that's mostly 'cuz Quinn here has to run out in the rain and slip the rim and tie-rods off the old car.”

“Aww man, that's cold,” Quinn exclaimed.

“Good news is,” Diego continued, “You really didn't tear her up all that much besides that, you knocked some things loose but we can tighten her up. The labor will cost you $400 easy,, being on the weekend now, and then $140 for the tire, $126 for the rim, taxes and disposal and you're still under a grand.”

“That's wonderful,” Jack said, placing his hands back on his hips.

“What brings you out here?” Quinn asked, “Especially in this storm.”

“My wife got a job out here, she ‪starts Monday‬ so we wanted to get out here as quick as we could....drove straight through.” Jack remarked.

“Wow,” Quinn breathed.

“I need those parts Quinn,” Diego remarked, opening the top of the tool bench and pulling out a socket wrench.

“Oh right!” Quinn smiled. He walked over to the far wall and grabbed a yellow rain coat which hung on a peg next to a Calendar, still on the month of October. A model in a bikini presided over the tenth month. “What job did your wife get out here?” He called from across the room.

“She's going to be the new Chief of Medicine at the hospital,” Jack replied, his eyes on Diego as Diego crouched back down toward the car.

“Oh she's gonna replace old man Mixter!” Quinn remarked.

Jack shrugged.

“Hurry Quinn, this guy said he's got places to be,” Diego said from under the car.

“Oh right,” Quinn said and stepped through the side door that led into a small foyer and eventually either out to the front parking lot or back into the lot.

“So your wife's a doctor eh,” Diego's voice came from under the car, “so what do you do?”

“Well I'm a doctor too,” Jack replied.

Diego emerged from the car holding a twisted piece of metal, “Really? What kind?”

“Well I'm a psychiatrist,” Jack said.

Diego slid back under the car, “A shrink huh?” He said, “You opening up an office here or something?”

“Well no,” Jack laughed, “I'm actually going to take some time off and write a book.”

Diego re-emerged with more twisted metal, “Cool,” he said, “What about?”

“Hypnosis,” Jack said matter-of-factly.

Diego cocked his head to one side, “Really? You do that shit?”

“Swear by it,” Jack replied.

There was an awkward moment of silence and then they both laughed.

🎃

Meanwhile, Ophelia Tate had purchased a small and incredibly over-priced pack of baby wipes and was giving herself the best attempt at a bath she could muster inside the surprisingly clean restroom of the SuperFuel Deluxe. After she finished, she sat on top of a toilet and took an opportunity to catch up on social media.

While she sat in the stall reading about “11 Celebrities That You Would Never Assume Were Gay”, her son Damon stepped into the Food Mart, and wiped his perfectly white sneakers on the welcome mat. An angry looking Indian man looked up as the door bells jingled and then went back to fiddling with some electronic device behind the counter. Damon's first thought was, Why does he keep all that bullet proof glass open?

He casually turned to his left, starting down an aisle chock full of every imaginable brand of potato chip or chocolate or fruity candy---browsing but not really browsing, more just wasting time. The aisle came to a dead-end at a wall of coolers full of soda and water and fruit juices. Damon stopped and caught himself staring at a row of YooHoos when he heard what sounded like a snickering to his left.

There was a small hallway to the left of the coolers, veering off next to an ATM machine. He stepped in front of the ATM machine and peered down the hallway, at once spotting the cause of the commotion. Three young boys were standing in the corner next to a door marked: UTILITY, NO TRESSPASSING. One was a freckled redheaded kid with shiny braces dressed as batman, another was a blonde haired blue eyed boy dressed like Darth Vader, and the last was a much younger looking kid with brown hair and brown eyes dressed like some kind of zombie. They were huddled together, their masks all hanging limply around their necks, crowded around a magazine featuring a hot blonde titled RED RABBIT. The cover-girl’s name was apparently Misty Dawn, and according to the cover caption, she was “Back and Ready for More Action”.

The boys caught sight of Damon and looked up startled. The freckled redhead kid's smile disappeared and his eyes grew narrow, “Hey!” He called, “What are you looking at?”

Damon was unfazed. “Looks like a couple of pervs to me,” he said, stepping toward them.

This apparently took them aback because they said nothing in retort.

“Seriously,” Damon said, pointing at the cover, “How old are you guys?”

Blonde Vader who held the magazine in his hand pressed it to his chest as if it were the most valuable thing on the earth and looked up at Damon with his mouth open. Little zombie boy took a step back. But BatFreckle was not amused. “Why don't you go Fuck Off!”

Damon frowned, “That's not very nice language. Is everyone in this town pervs like you?”

“Where are you---” little zombie started in but BatFreckle cut him off.

“Don't you know that Warren County is the home of the Rabbit-in-Red? What hole did you crawl out of freak-show?”

“Rabbit-in-what?” Damon asked and with lightning speed, snatched the magazine from Blonde Vader.

“Hey!” The wannabe Sith Lord exclaimed.

“Rabbit-In-Red Productions is the world's third largest manufacturer of pornographic media dipshit, and the company is based here in Warren County.” BatFreckle spat.

“So it is a county full of pervs,” Damon said, opening the magazine and thumbing through the pages.

“My dad said a local bunch of church folks fought Mr. Martini in court over decency laws so much, the legal fees drove the church out of business.” Blonde Vader said.

“Shi-yeah,” BatFreckle said, “That's why old man Taylor's up in his house on the hill crying like a pussy all the time.”

“Mr. Who?” Damon asked, closing the magaize and handing it back to Blonde Vader.

BatFreckle snatched it instead and flipped to the table of contents, pointing to a ‪small black‬ and white picture of a middle-aged overweight man. “Lou Martini. He's the CEO of Rabbit-in-Red nimrod, he owns half the county and is like, the richest man in Illinois outside of Chicago.”

“Where are you from?” Little zombie found his place to ask.

“My parents and I are moving here from California, we just got in tonight, got a flat tire.” Damon replied.

“California! That's cool!” Blonde Vader exclaimed.

BatFreckle rolled his eyes, “Beat it California!” He said, “We were just checking out Spitz' mom in this month's issue.”

He and Blonde Vader started laughing.

“That's not my mom!” Little zombie, who's name was obviously Spitz, whined.

“Don't lie, you know it's her!” BatFreckle teased.

Blonde Vader turned the page, and the centerfold fell out, revealing the cover-girl Misty Dawn laying on a bed of white fur naked except for a silver belly chain and and black stilettos. A paper fell out as well and fluttered almost magestically to the floor. Damon bent down and picked it up. It was a flier that featured another picture of the model. The headline read:

SEE COVER GIRL

MISTY DAWN

TUE-SUN

OCTOBER AND NOVEMBER

AT THE

RABBIT-IN-RED LOUNGE

HADDONFIELD

“Look Spitz” BatFreckle said in jest, “You can see your mom's show tonight if you want.”

“It's not my mom!” Spitz whined again.

“Why don't you leave him alone?” Damon said.

“Why don't you suck my balls?” BatFreckle snapped.

“Chill out Lonnie!” Blonde Vader slapped BatFreckle's shoulder and then looked at Damon “Lonnie can be a douche sometimes, I'm Richie Marshall, this is Lonnie Elamb, and he's Spitz. Welcome to Haddonfield.”

Lonnie groused and leaned back against the wall, opening up the porn.

“Cool, my name is Damon.”

“How old are you?” Richie asked.

“17, you?”

“I just turned 12, Lonnie is 16 but he's still in 8th grade...he has to go to special classes at the Middle School.” Richie and Spitz cackled.

“I have dyslexia fuck face!” Lonnie said, throwing the RED RABBIT at his friend.

“I'm 8,” Spitz said proudly.

“What are you doing out of the house at this time of night?” Damon asked, picking up the magazine from the floor and handing it back to Richie.

“Lonnie has his drivers license now, and I just snuck out of my house.” Richie said.

“What about you?” Damon asked, turning toward Spitz.

“His mom's a whore so she leaves him alone to go out fucking for quarters!” Lonnie called.

“Stop it Lonnie! She is not!” Spitz cried.

Damon ignored him and Spitz continued, “My mom works late nights at Jamie Lee's Diner, she doesn't get home till morning. My grandma watches me but she fell asleep and I...I snuck out too.”

“We just ate there coming in,” Damon said smiling.

“My mom is Taylor,” Spitz said.

“She was our waitress.” Damon replied.

“His mom's a slut!” Lonnie called.

Spitz started to whine but Damon put an arm around him, “Why do you hang out with this asshole? Is there anything else to do in this place than look at naked chicks?”

“There's an arcade in the driver's lounge, but I don't have any quarters.” Spitz said.

“Come on,” Damon said, “Show me where it is.”

Richie tossed Lonnie the magazine to followed Damon and Spitz. Lonnie caught it, rolling his eyes, he was perfectly happy right there looking at boobs.

🎃

Damon stepped into the shop area of the SuperFuel Deluxe and shook off the rain. There he saw his dad sitting on a folding chair listening, as another man held a lamp under their family station wagon from the Jurassic era. A third man was under the car working. The man holding the lamp was droning on and on about baseball. Damon didn't really care for baseball, or any sports for that matter.

“And then the Sox brought in their reliever, that guy Stroop, and he just completely fell apart. He hit two batters and walked another, and before you knew it the bases were loaded.” Quinn was saying.

Damon walked up to his dad. “Is that so---” Jack replied, but was startled when Damon tapped him on the shoulder.

“What is it son? You're not supposed to be back here.” Jack looked up at Damon.

“There's an arcade inside and I was wondering if you had any change on you?” Damon asked.

Jack leaned to one side and pulled his wallet out, withdrawing a 20 dollar bill. “Can they make change?” He asked.

“There's a change machine,” Damon said flatly, taking the money.

“You can play all of that, what the hell, it's been a long few days,” Jack said smiling.

Damon stuffed the twenty in his front pocket and turned, “Thanks,” he said.

“Tell your mom I'm in here,” Jack called after him.

“Haven't seen her,” Damon said as he walked out, without turning.

Quinn started up again, “So you know that big Dominican for the Cubs, Agu...Agu...something.”

“Aguilar,” Diego called from under the car.

“Yeah, Aguilar,” Quinn corrected himself. “Well he steps up to the plate and first pitch...bam!”

NEXT>>

#halloween #halloween franchise #michael myers #horror #horror writing #haddonfield #horror film #fan fiction #fan writing #spooky

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assembledherethevolunteers · 5 years ago

Text

Collisions and Confessions

A/N: Hi! This is my first reader fic and I hope you like it!

Summary: You and Pat have been dating for some time, but haven’t told anybody outside of Maz. Today, you’re playing each other in your baseball league.

Warnings: Cursing

You yawned loudly and poured yourself a cup of coffee in your kitchen on a bright Saturday morning. You felt a pair of large hands grasp your waist. You smiled as your boyfriend placed a kiss to your neck.

“Morning,” he muttered against your skin, his voice still rough with sleep.

“Good morning, love,” you placed a kiss to his ginger hair.

He hummed and buried his face in the crook of your neck. You giggled when he peppered your neck and collarbone with feather light kisses.

“You’re touchy-feely this morning.”

“I just want you to remember this me instead of the one that you’re going to see this afternoon.”

You smiled and rolled your eyes.

You’d had this day circled on your calendar all season. Today you were playing the D’Backs, AKA the team your boyfriend, Pat Murray, played on. Nobody on either team knew that you were dating, except Maz (since that’s how you two met). Not even your older brother Derek, who was on the Raiders with you.

“I’m sure you’re not THAT bad. Plus, we all get upset when we lose,” you joked.

Pat swatted at your butt and pulling away, got his own cup of coffee.

“Seriously though, I get…” Pat paused, trying to find the right word. “Loud. And some, including me, would say obnoxious.”

You set your coffee down and cup his face in your hands.

“Pat, it’ll be fine,” you kissed his nose.

He sighed.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The two of you made and ate breakfast before Pat left so he could get ready for the game.

“I’ll see you there,” Pat pressed his lips to yours one, two, three more times before he left.

You sighed against the door after he left your apartment. You usually didn’t have him stay over the night before game days, but last night you two had been watching a movie and…well, things had ended in the bedroom. At that point it was so late that it just made more sense for him to stay over.

You heard your brother honk outside a couple hours later. He was picking you up for your game. You grabbed your bag and walked down to get in Derek’s car.

“Hey, Y/N, ready?”

“Oh yeah, can’t wait,” you replied as your brother started driving towards the park.

“This team is actually pretty decent, so we’ll need to be on our A-game.”

“Oh yeah?” You smiled, a pride for your boyfriend’s team swelled in your chest. That was a high compliment coming from your brother.

“Yeah, they’ve got John Mazzello, he’s damn good. And then there’s Ryan Palacco, and if he actually plays, we’ll really be in trouble. And then there’s Ty…”

Your brother kept talking about the players, not knowing that you already knew all these people. Well, of them at least. You knew their stats almost as well as your own team’s. You and Pat had a tendency to come over to each other’s apartments and cuddle and talk about the games (“I couldn’t BUY a fucking hit!” “I’m sorry, babe”).

You pulled into the parking lot of the field and got out as your brother finished talking about his game plan. He was the co-captain along with Nick, who was already in the dugout.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“What’s up, Nick?”

“Ready for some baseball!”

“Hell yeah!” The two of you high-fived. Derek rolled his eyes.

“We’re going to start you off in the one spot and you’ll be playing left,” Nick said with a slight grimace.

You groaned. You much preferred being in centerfield, but if you were playing left, that meant…

“It’s time for Peaty to pitch again, huh?” Derek sighed.

“Yup!”

You started to pull your cleats on when you heard a familiar voice.

“Y/N!”

You looked up and smiled at Maz.

“Hey, Maz.”

“Whoa! You two know each other?”

“Yeah, we both…”

“Teach at St. James,” you and your brother said at the same time.

“How did I not put that together?” Derek shook his head. It was common knowledge that Maz had turned the baseball program at St. James High School around since he’d become the coach three years ago.

You and Maz laughed.

“I just wanted to come over and wish you luck,” Maz winked and then jogged back over to Pat, who was standing outside the dugout, stretching against the fence.

You and Pat locked eyes and you turned away before you gave anything away.

“Are you dating him?”

Your head snapped to look at your brother.

“Who?”

“John Mazzello! You got super blushy and he winked at you!”

You rolled your eyes. Glad your brother was wrong.

“No, Derek, we’re good friends. We have the same free period, so we usually hang out in the teacher’s lounge a lot and talk baseball.”

“Sure,” was all your brother said as he glared over at the D’Backs’ dugout. He was the number one reason that you and Pat hadn’t told people you were dating. Derek was ridiculously protective of you, especially since you were the only woman in the league. Most of the guys didn’t care, but some of them would make comments, or try to touch you in some way. You could handle yourself, but older brothers were older brothers.

The rest of your team started showing up and a few of you went out to the outfield to stretch. You saw Pat and who you were pretty sure was Ryan Pollaco playing catch.

You turned your back to them, spread your legs, and bent down towards the ground to stretch your inner thighs.

“OW! FUCK!” You heard a British voice yell.

“KEEP YOUR EYE ON THE FUCKING BALL, POLLACO!” Pat shouted.

“I got distracted, you lunatic!”

“Quit checking her out!”

You looked over and saw Pollaco rubbing his chest. Pat still had his back to you, but you could tell he was fuming.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” The blonde flipped off Pat and walked into their dugout.

The rest of the warmups went on without incident, but your brother at Pat wore matching murderous glares, even if they didn’t know it.

The umpires called for captains and Nick and Derek jogged to the batting boxes. You saw a tall, bigger guy that you were pretty sure was their power-hitter, Ty Delamonica. There was another man standing next to him that you weren’t sure who he was. Maybe Dells, the pitcher? Lastly, there was a shorter guy that you knew was Garvey, the catcher.

You watched as they all talked and shook hands. The umpire clapped his hands together and they all broke apart. Nick and Derek came back to the dugout.

“Y/N!” Nick yelled. “Get your helmet on!” Nick ran through the lineup quickly as you put on your helmet and batting gloves. You walked out and timed your practice swings with Dells’ pitches.

“Ready, Y/N/N?” Derek asked as he slowly swung his bat.

“Always,” you gave him a smile and then walked over to the batter’s box. You looked over at Nick in the coach’s box at third base. He gave you the sign for bunt.

You smiled, looking at the infielders playing far back. Maz must’ve given them a scouting report. You settled into the box with your routine. You looked at Dells and smirked. They had no idea what was coming. You watched the ball get released and then squared to bunt.

“FUCK!” you heard from Ty.

You laid it down the first baseline and took off running. You hit the base and then the ball hit the glove. Yes!

“WHO BUNTS IN A SUMMER LEAUGE?!” You heard from the DBacks’ dugout.

“Somebody who listens to their coach, Barone!” Ty snapped as he ran back to his position.

“You’re not the coach, Ty!” Barone called back.

“Nice job,” the first basemen gave you a smile. He was older than pretty much everybody else on the field. He must be Fotch.

“Thanks,” you smiled back. From what Pat had told you, you liked Fotch.

“Come on, Pads!” You yelled to the next batter.

He hit a deep fly ball to centerfield. You lead off the base as much as you dared, hoping both that Pat would drop it and catch it. He caught it and you went back to first, muttering under your breath.

“Let’s go, D!” You yelled at your brother.

Derek took the first two pitches, one ball and one strike. He connected with the third pitch and, when you saw it was on the ground, you took off running. You saw Ty bobble the ball for a moment, then decided to throw it to first. You were safe, but Derek was out.

You snuck a glance back at Pat in centerfield and saw him give you a small smile. You smirked and spread your legs, almost straddling the base and stuck your ass out a little bit more. You knew how great you looked in your baseball pants. Anybody else looking would think that you were just trying to get a good leadoff, but you knew Pat was looking.

“STRIKE THREE!” The umpire yelled.

“Shit,” you said as the DBacks started to run in. Pat ran past you and quickly pinched your butt where nobody could see.

You yelped and stared at him for a moment before running back to your dugout.

“Are you okay?” Derek asked, handing you your glove.

“Yeah! Sorry, I thought there was a spider on my cleat,” you said, the first thing that came to your mind.

Derek didn’t look like he believed it, but you all ran out to your positions. Peaty took the mound and you sighed. Peaty was a great guy and to be honest, a decent pitcher, but he didn’t have a lot of speed. Which is why you were in left field. You were one of the fastest people on the team and most of the balls that were hit, were hit to the left side of the field.

The first two batters, Maz and Barone, got on. Ty was up now and you took a couple steps back, not wanting the ball to get in front of you.

The ball cracked against the bat and you saw it soar towards you. You caught it and quickly threw it in, knowing Maz would try to tag up and get to third. Maz knew you had an arm though and didn’t even try it.

“Nice catch, Y/N!” Peaty yelled.

Nobody scored.

Pat came up in the second inning and struck out, watching the third strike go by. You thought he seemed calm enough until he screamed and threw his bat against the dugout fence. You flinched, more for the bat than anything.

As you ran by the DBacks’ dugout, you could’ve sworn you heard Pollaco and Barone arguing about ‘getting her number’. Last you knew, Barone had a girlfriend.

“Will you all shut the fuck up?!” Pat yelled.

“Well somebody isn’t going to win the bench bet,” somebody responded.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, DAVID!”

You chuckled to yourself.

“Seems you’re making an impression on them,” Derek’s eyes narrowed as he put his helmet on.

“Oh stop,” you rolled your eyes. “You’re not going to do anything.”

“If any of them lay a hand on you…”

“Alright, Derek.”

The game started moving faster. You’d never seen Pat play before, but damn, did he yell. A lot. It was actually kind of funny because you’d never seen that side of him.

“Catch the damn ball, Vinnie!” “TY! Cover the FUCKING BASE!”

You couldn’t help but watch him as the game went on (and maybe it had something to do with the way he looked in his uniform).

You walked your second time up and got to second on a pass ball.

“So Y/N,” Zapata, the second baseman, said to you as Garvey and Dells were talking on the mound. “Doing anything later?”

“Actually yeah, I got plans,” you gave him a smile and could practically feel Pat’s eyes boring into both of you.

“Psh, blow ‘em off. We’re…”

“ZAPATA! PAY ATTENTION TO THE FUCKING GAME!”

Zapata frowned back at Pat but didn’t say anything before looking back at you.

“Sorry, HE CAN BE SO RUDE!” Zapata called over his shoulder towards center.

“I’ll show you fucking rude!” Pat started to make his way in, but Maz interfered.

“Murray! Get your ass back in position! We’re ready to go!” He nodded at Garvey jogging back to home plate.

“This isn’t over, Zapata!” Pat stomped back to place.

You met Maz’s eyes and you two smirked.

The next pitch was hit to right field, but over Vinnie’s head and you started running.

“GO GO GO!” Nick waved you home.

“Up easy, up easy,” The umpire told you as you crossed home plate.

You turned and watched as Vinnie threw the ball and Pads got thrown out at second.

“FUCK!” You yelled as the DBacks started running in.

Garvey chuckled.

“You’d get along with our centerfielder,” he muttered.

You bit your bottom lip to keep a smile from your face.

At least you scored.

The next half inning, the DBacks didn’t score.

Soon, it was the final inning and your team was winning.

You watched as your teammates hit one to Zapata (out) and one to Maz (line-drive, caught). The last person up hit a pop up between right and center field. You heard both Vinnie and Pat call each other off. You knew what was going to happen before it did.

Vinnie caught the ball, but they collided, and Pat bounced to the ground.

“PATRICK!” You ran out to centerfield. You heard people yelling at you, but you didn’t care. You kneeled next to him. His eyes were open, but he seemed dazed and his eyes weren’t focused. “Pat, baby? Are you okay?” You placed your hands on his cheeks, trying to get him to look at you.

He blinked his hazel eyes a couple times and then focused on you. He smiled and took a deep breath.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay, just got the wind knocked out of me.”

“Oh, thank God,” You leaned down and kissed him, just happy that he was okay.

You heard people yell again, including your brother. You still didn’t care.

“I’m okay too, by the way!” Vinnie called at both of you.

“Um…whenever you two are done, we’ve got a game to finish,” Maz’s voice was above the two of you and made you break apart. You didn’t move your eyes from Pat.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You asked.

Pat nodded and gave you a small smile.

“Does this mean Murray won the bench bet!?”

“I think, David, this means that Murray won the bench bet before there even was a bench bet.”

“Babe, I…I need to go in. I’m up first.”

“Right!” You stood up and helped him up too.

The DBacks started to run in, but then you saw Derek start stomping over.

“Shit,” you muttered. You chased after your brother.

“What the fuck?!” Derek yelled at Pat.

“Whoa whoa,” Maz got between your brother and Pat. “Hey, man, calm down.”

“CALM DOWN?! This guy is making out with my sister in center field and you’re telling me to calm down?!”

“Jesus, Derek, stop it!” You stood next to Maz. “He’s my boyfriend, not just some guy!”

Derek’s eyes met yours and they softened for a moment.

“You have a boyfriend and you didn’t tell me?!”

“No! Because you’d act like an idiot!”

Derek opened his mouth to try and argue, but you cut him off.

“I’m serious, Derek. You do this every time I try to date somebody. I’m in my twenties, I can handle myself,” you reached out and took one of your brother’s hands.

“Um…I hate to interrupt whatever is going on here, but we’ve got another half inning to play,” the umpire came over to see what was going on.

Derek pointed at Pat with his free hand.

“This isn’t over, and we will talk after the game.”

You heard Pat’s teeth snap together.

“Great, can we finish this now?” The umpire’s tone was annoyed.

You turned back to Pat and placed a kiss on his cheek.

“Any advice?” He asked, eyeing Derek as he walked back to the dugout.

You and Maz replied at the same time.

“Get a hit.”

“Thanks.”

You laughed and then jogged over to Derek who was holding your glove.

“I’m serious,” he started. “You, me, and him are going to have a talk after this game.”

“Fine, Derek. Can we finish the game now?”

“Are we ready?!” The umpire yelled as everybody got into position. He made a circle with his finger. “PLAY BALL!”

Pat came up to the plate, and you still were pretty sure that he was a bit dazed. His teammates were yelling for him. You wanted to yell too, but your competitive side was a little too aggressive for that.

Pat connected with the ball and it actually made it through the gap between first and second base. You had to bite your lip to keep from cheering for him.

“YES!” You heard Pat yell from first base.

“Way to go , Murray!”

“NICE JOB, PAT!”

You were beaming. As much as you wanted to win, you knew how much getting a hit meant to Pat.

Vinnie struck out, watching the third strike go by, much to Pat’s loud chagrin.

“SHITTY CALL, BLUE!”

The umpire took his mask off and pointed at Pat.

“Watch it, son!”

“Murray! Shut up for once!” Ty yelled from the coach’s box on third.

Pat was still grumbling and kicked some dirt when he went back to the base.

Garvey was up next. He hit a ground ball to Nick at shortstop. Nick threw the ball the second, getting Pat out, and then Pads at second, threw it to Derek at first, getting Garvey out. A double play. The game was over.

Pat threw his helmet on the ground.

“FUCK!”

Your team ran in and as you did, you picked up Pat’s helmet that was still in the base path. When his eyes met yours, his softened and he sighed.

“Thank you,” he took his helmet from you. He looked upset, even though he got a hit.

You leaned up and kissed his cheek. It was slightly dirty and sweaty, but it didn’t bother you.

“Please don’t make out here on the field again,” Maz said behind you. You turned to look at him.

“Can I help you, Johnathan?”

“Oooh, full naming me, huh? I just wanted to ask you if you and anybody from your team wanted to join us for a drink? We’re going to Sledge’s.”

Your eyebrows shot up and you looked around him to look at the DBacks’ dugout.

“Really? You guys want me to come?”

“Oh, hell yeah!” Dells smiled. “We all want to hear how in the world you put up…”

“Y/N!” Derek’s voice carried across the field. “Bring your boyfriend over here!”

You rolled your eyes then looked at Maz.

“I’ll get you an answer in a minute,” You took Pat’s hand and pulled him towards your dugout.

“No, Y/N,” Pat muttered. “Your brother is going to kill me!”

“He’s not going to kill you,” you paused and thought about it. “Well, he won’t kill you a lot.”

Pat gave you a small laugh.

“How does somebody kill somebody a little?”

“You’ll see,” was all you said back before you stopped in front of Derek. You gave him a huge smile. “Hello, brother mine.”

Derek wasn’t looking at you. He had his eyes locked on Pat.

“Oh!” You feigned forgetfulness. “This is Pat,” you moved so that Pat could step in front of you. “My boyfriend. Pat, this is my brother Derek.”

Pat hesitantly stepped forward and extended his hand.

“Hi, Y/N has told me a lot about you.”

Derek took his hand and shook it for a moment before letting it go and crossing his arms.

“Wish I could say the same,” Derek frowned. “How long have you been dating my sister?”

“Um…f…four months.”

Derek’s glare turned to you.

“Four months? You’ve been dating this guy for four months and haven’t said anything?”

“No, because you tend to scare my boyfriends away and I figured that if you knew I was dating somebody on another team it would be even worse.”

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

“Yes, after baseball season. You also get so worked up…”

Derek scoffed as his eyes flickered to Pat and then back to you.

“…so I told Pat it would be better if we waited. He wanted to tell everybody right away.”

Derek’s eyes softened, then he looked at Pat.

“You did?”

“Well, yeah. I mean…who wouldn’t want to shout from the rooftops that they’re dating somebody like Y/N?”

You felt a rush of affection for Pat. “You’re in love with him” a voice in your head shouted, and you knew it was true.

You stepped closer and wrapped your arms around Pat’s waist. He wrapped one arm around your shoulders, not breaking eye contact with Derek.

“D, please be happy for me.”

Derek looked at you and sighed.

“Of course, I’m happy for you! I just wish you would’ve told me. Maybe we can go for a drink…”

“Oh!” You looked to your teammates who were watching the whole interaction (not even pretending they weren’t. In their defense, neither were the DBacks). “Do you guys want to go to Sledge’s with the DBacks?”

Some of your teammates said they would go so you yelled over to Maz that some would be going.

“Great! We’ll see you there!” You heard one of the DBacks yell back at you.

“Do you want to ride with us?” Derek had his arms at his sides now. His face had lost all of the hardness he’d been wearing since you had run out to centerfield.

Pat’s nervous look faded from his face and he slowly smiled.

“Yeah, I um…I’ll just go tell Maz really quick.” Pat placed a kiss to your forehead, almost subconsciously, before turning and jogging back to his friend. The two of them started talking in low tones.

“You know I’m going to tell him the story about you jumping on the bed after lights out and then you fell out of your bed and broke your arm, right?”

You groaned. Maybe introducing Pat and Derek wasn’t a good idea after all.

#pat murray #pat murray fic #pat murrayxreader #joe mazzello #joe mazello x reader #bohemian rhapsody #undrafted

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that-mothman-gay-blog · 6 years ago

Text

Sleepover with Mothman

If you guys wanna find my ao3, just search up HappilyNervousCollection!

Indrid was never the most clear when he asked things of Duck. Usually his calls were informing Duck of impending disasters or mishaps, giving him very little time- waiting until the future had a high likelihood. So when the seer called up the lodge, Duck tensed just slightly upon hearing the voice.

”Hello Duck Newton!” The lilted voice chimed over the phone, Duck sporting a small smile at the familiarity. “I do hope I’m not imposing, but I’m going to have to stay at your apartment for a few days.”

Duck opened his mouth for questions, Indrid humming on the other end of the line. “Why? Well, there’s a large snow storm coming up, one that would cause a power outage in the trailer park, and the lack of heat would send me into a sort of coma. And as I’m sure you can understand, that isn’t good.” He informed. “Similarly, I cannot stay at Amnesty Lodge either, as I would immediately become a suspect of Mr. Stern.”

Indrid’s fascination with Duck had been at least slightly clear since the first time he’d called Duck- making a specific request for the man he’d hardly knew. And Duck figured that’s why his brain was questioning why Indrid would like to stay with him of all people- Sure, he couldn’t stay with Aubrey because of her co-residency with Agent Stern, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t bunk with Ned and Billy for a few days.

Now, that didn’t mean Duck was complaining. He actually didn’t mind the company at all- especially if it was Indrid.

No, he was simply confused.

”Well, uh, of course Indrid. When should I come and pick you up?” Duck replied, gaining a curious look from Agent Stern, who happened to be sitting in the lobby. Duck tried to act inconspicuous, but his ability to act was just as good as his ability to lie- meaning that he was fucking awful at it.

“Why, whenever you are able to, of course! Although, Duck, you should stick to the back roads.” Indrid chimed, Duck quirking a brow. Indrid replied just as if the two of them were chatting face to face, the pep in his tone dropping just slightly. “There are several less than favorable futures, most of which can be avoided or delayed if you take the back roads.” He explained.

Duck nodded, taking a moment to fish his keys out of his pocket. “Yeah, got it. I’ll be over soon,” Duck replied. “Or, y’know, whenever.”

That earned him a soft laugh from Indrid- a noise that caused Duck’s breath to catch in his throat. He wasn’t quite sure if he had ever heard the mothman laugh before- and if he had, it had probably just been Indrid laughing to himself. But this time, Duck had caused the noise, and it sounded just a little bit different.

”I’ll be seeing you, Duck.”

Click.

At the noise, Duck set the phone down, calming down his breathing for a moment. As he turned to walk out the lodge’s entrance, he paused, Agent Stern approaching him with that same insinuating look on his face.

Ah, shit.

”Hello Mr. Newton,” He started, the friendly tone in his voice countering the curious and suspecting expression he wore. “As I was reviewing some of the anomalies that have taken place here, I couldn’t but hear you mention the name ‘Indrid’. Did I hear that right?”

Duck swallowed, nodding. There was no use in lying if he was absolute shit at it, and lying to a United States Government Official would probably come with some bad repercussions. Agent Stern smiled, Duck getting a sinking feeling in his stomach.

”Duck Newton, did you know that a particular name, ‘Indrid Cold’, is actually the name of a minor cryptid here in West Virginia?” He asked, an eyebrow quirked, that wide smile on his face. Truthfully, Duck hadn’t known that. After all, the big West Virginia cryptid was Mothman, and he was a staple for Point Pleasant tourism. Though, he supposed in a way, ‘Indrid Cold’ was the name of a West Virginia cryptid- though certainly not a minor one.

”No, Mr. Stern, I did not,” Duck replied, his voice unwavering. He was technically telling the truth, so he didn’t have to worry about that coming up later, right?

”And, pray tell, what is this Indrid’s last name?” Agent Stern asked, causing Duck’s eyes to open wide, his brain racking for any sort of answer.

”Well, uh, Agent Stern, his name- his last name,” Fuck. He couldn’t think of anything. “Is...New...ton. Newton-!” Duck was proud of himself for a solid point one seconds, and then he realized his mistake.

”You two share a last name?” Agent Stern asked, definitely a little more suspecting. Duck smiled sheepishly, nodding. “Are you brothers? Cousins?”

”Uh, Married, actually.”

Duck realized his error not a half a second later, his face going rather pink, his eyes widening in surprise with himself. Agent Stern seemingly had a similar reaction, his eyes widening and his smile faltering just slightly. Duck coughed into the crevice of his elbow, taking a moment to calm himself down.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were gay,” Agent Stern apologized, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m thankful you told me though- I can assure you, I have no problem with it either. It simply... it simply caught me off guard.”

“‘S fine, I just- I don’t usually tell people about that sorta thing,” Duck replied, trying to ignore the part of his brain yelling at him to hit himself and curse. “I should probably get going. See ya later, Mr. Stern,”

Duck was quick to scurry over to his car after that, jamming the keys into the ignition and driving away- making sure to follow the back roads as Indrid had instructed.

By the time he had made it to the trailer park, a decent amount of snow had fallen on the ground. The storm had really picked up, flurries caking the town of Kepler. The usual red glow was missing from Indrid’s trailer, and the moment Duck opened his car door, Indrid stepped out.

Surprisingly, the man wasn’t wearing any winter wear, still sporting his usual tank top and jeans. Although, upon facing the bite of the cold, he seemed to regret that. He quickly rushed out from the Winnebago, tugging along a cooler that he shoved into the backseat of the car.

“Need any help?” Duck asked, overcoming the small amount of shock that had hit him. “You must be fucking freezing- here, get in the car, I’ll grab your stuff-“

”N-No, it’s perfectly alright,” Indrid replied, although he was already opening the passenger seat to the car. He supposed that made sense though, considering Duck was already approaching the camper.

As Duck entered the Winnebago, the camper was uncharacteristically cold. Not only that, but as Duck looked around for the rest of Indrid’s luggage, he noted that the camper was far more organized than it usually was. The garbage bin inside was filled to the brim with mostly empty egg nog containers, a few crumpled up drawings precariously piled on top. Duck didn’t bother looking- that felt just a little too personal. But he did make sure to pick up Indrid’s sketch pad.

He found a beat up old backpack in the cramped bedroom, laying neatly on the bed. Duck picked it up, slipping it over his shoulder as he walked back out of the Winnebago and back over to the car.

Indrid was shaking like a leaf from where he sat in the seat, making sure the heat was blowing directly at him. He seemed incredibly sleepy by the time Duck had returned, the man handing over the backpack and the sketch pad.

The sight of Indrid was both concerning and undoubtedly adorable, the man leaning against the door, his eyes half lidded behind his glasses- which were partially down the bridge of his nose. Duck couldn’t help but stare at Indrid’s eyes, noting the almost pearlescent shade of blue. It was striking, interesting, and just after Duck got a good glance he realized he had been staring into Indrid’s eyes.

His face heated up slightly, Duck ignoring that for now as he pushed up Indrid’s glasses, the man turning his head slightly to look at him curiously. He hoped the tinting to the glasses masked the coloration of his face, Duck sporting a sheepish smile. “Well, I can’t have you transformin’ into a giant moth in my car- that would probably be a little conspicuous,” He explained, Indrid nodding dazedly.

Duck hummed, switching the tracks on the CD player, grinning at the eighties rock that played. He did his best not sing along, heading back to his apartment via the backroads. Indrid had warmed up a bit, his voice quiet as he murmured to himself- seemingly making a small chittering noise two seconds before each pothole.

Duck pulled into the apartment complex, parking the car close to the building’s entrance. He parked, moving so that he could get Indrid out of the car, the mothman staying just a little bit longer to soak up some more heat. With a deep breath, Indrid left the vehicle, still making that same chittering noise as Duck quickly guided him up the two sets of stairs to his home.

It sounded almost like a mouse squeak, or a fast, high pitched song Duck didn’t quite know the words to. Indrid’s chittering quieted down as they reached the third floor, his grip on the sketch pad growing tight for just a moment, before returning to it’s lax state. From there, Duck unlocked the door, letting Indrid inside.

“You make yourself comfortable. There’s uh- there’s an electric blanket in the closet if you need it, and a regular one on the back of the couch,” Duck informed, pointing from the closet to the couch. On top of the second blanket sat his cat- a black, fuzzy little kitten. He smiled, filing away the mental image of Indrid buried underneath a bunch of blankets, cuddling his cat. “That’s Kiara. Don’t worry, she’s a sweetheart,”

Indrid nodded, setting down his backpack and taking his sketch pad with him. He hesitantly let the kitten smell him, scooping up the creature and moving for the blanket. Duck smiled, turning around. “I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go grab the cooler,” Duck informed, Indrid nodding.

Duck was back not ten minutes later, the cooler having given him a little bit of trouble as he lugged it up the stairs. He opened the door again, pulling the cooler towards the kitchen.

“Mr. Stern is going to be here soon, Duck,” Indrid commented, Duck turning his head to look back at the seer. He was burried underneath the electric blanket, the second one draped on top of it. Kiara had perched herself on Indrid’s shoulder, huddled against his neck. “If you’d like, your husband can answer the door so that you don’t have to lie.”. The second part caused Duck’s face to go slightly red, an expletive leaving him.

“Shit- Indrid, how in the deep hell did you-?”

”I know many things, both in the future and after they’ve happened,” Indrid replied, fixing his glasses. He reached into his pocket, making sure Duck could see him slip a silver ring onto his finger. He sounded amused, sending Duck a sly look. “Mr. Stern may be a little hard to convince though.”

Before Duck could fully stammer out a reply, Indrid stood up, one of his hands holding the electric blanket close to him, the other holding on to Kiara. He walked over to the door, an extension cord following Indrid as he stepped over to the door, waiting for that tell tale knock. He waited a moment, then opening the door, wincing at the cold.

”Hello- Oh, hello,” Agent Stern greeted, his expression faltering for just a moment at the sight of Indrid, Duck’s face going a little more red from where he stood in his kitchen. He busied himself, transferring egg nog from the cooler to the fridge. He could practically hear the smile Indrid wore as he spoke.

”Oh, why hello there.” He answered, his voice sounding somewhat curious- confused. Despite that, the smile on his face didn’t leave- perhaps being a little off putting. “I don’t believe we’ve met before.”

”I’m looking for-“

”Duck, yes.” Indrid stated, cutting off the agent. Stern nodded, quirking an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t be the first. Believe it or not, Duck is quite popular here in Kepler.”

”Pardon my rudeness, but who exactly are you?” Stern asked, sounding, well, stern.

“Indrid. Indrid Newton, sir,”

“Ah, I see.”

Duck closed up the fridge, not exactly sure where to put the cooler. Unfortunately, the noise had attracted Agent Stern’s attention, the man looking over Indrid’s head. The ranger froze up, Stern’s smile widening as he spotted Duck in the apartment.

“Hello there Mr. Newton!”

”...Hello?” Indrid answered, unable to keep his grin from widening, chuckling to himself. Duck couldn’t help but chuckle, rolling his eyes as he walked up behind Indrid, standing just behind him.

“You’ve been sitting on that one for the passed minute and a half, haven’t you?” He replied, Indrid smiling and nodding.

”Oh, absolutely.”

Indrid leaned over, pecking Duck’s cheek, Duck’s face going a bit red. Indrid laughed, Duck pulling his hat down so that the brim covered his face. Duck wasn’t sure what to make of that- he enjoyed it immensely, but surely it was just to get Stern away and off their backs, right?

For some reason, Duck’s stomach sunk at the thought.

Indrid seemed to sense this, one of his hands wrapping around Duck’s waist, squeezing. “I’m sorry sir, but may we talk later? Duck and I were going to have dinner soon,” Indrid requested, Stern nodding in approval.

“Of course, I’m so sorry for the disruption.” Stern apologized, smiling sheepishly at the two. Indrid waved as Stern walked away, closing the door, his hand lingering on Duck’s waist. The seer turned, setting Kiara down on the floor, pulling Duck into a hug. It left Duck a little choked up, his heartbeat ringing in his ears.

“Indrid, I uh- fuck, Indrid, was-“

”Yes.” Indrid answered, cutting him off. He leaned closer, Duck able to see his hued reflection in Indrid’s glasses. “You’re quite interesting, Duck. You change my futures at the end of each minute, you’re more heroic than you give yourself credit for. You are kinder than I can ever predict, you are smart- Duck Newton, you are simply fascinating.”

Duck wasn’t sure how to react, Indrid laughing softly as he leaned forwards, pecking Duck’s nose. Duck was flustered, and he reckoned he was probably the color of Indrid’s glasses. He was warm, and jittery, and he couldn’t make any words leave his mouth. Indrid took notice of this, his smile calming just a bit, that sly twist staying where it was.

“I suppose this is my way of asking you out, as interesting as it may be.”

Duck tripped over his words, making an effort to reply to Indrid coherently, failing horribly. Eventually he just trailed his hands around Indrid’s waist, hesitantly holding him close, as if the faintest touch would break him. He slowly leaned forwards, Indrid letting him take his time as he kissed him. He could taste vanilla on his lips, probably from the eggnog; Indrid’s lips curled into a tight smile against Duck’s.

Ever since their first face to face interaction, Duck had felt some sort of attraction to him. He’d shoved aside those feelings for the time being- after all, they did have a few disasters to deal with, and romantic actions weren’t exactly top priority. But something about seeing Indrid dragged along the snow as if he was some type of animal- seeing the man injured and helpless- Duck couldn’t stand it. He’d acted on his emotions and freed him, making sure he was okay- making sure he got out of danger.

After the hunt, Duck had spent a while considering his emotions, still a little unsure about it. He would call up Indrid to make sure the man was doing alright, to make sure he was healing properly. It was embarrassing to admit, but it brought him back to his college years, almost. Especially now, with this kiss, almost as if it was the dramatic conclusion to some stupid romcom.

Duck pulled away, slightly dazed as he stared down at Indrid, the cryptid taking a moment to look back up at him. Duck gained a swell of pride- he never thought of himself to be particularly good at anything, but the kiss must’ve been at least decent if he’d gotten Indrid to blush like that.

”Were you able to predict that?”

#Indruck #Indrid Cold #Duck Newton #TAZ Amnesty #the adventure zone amnesty

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kumkaniudaku · 6 years ago

Text

Our Thing

Happy Valentine’s Day, guys. Here’s one of the two things I plan on writing. I consider all of you my Valentine’s since I never have one, so here’s something before the clock strikes 12.

Work Count: 2k

Warnings: Not yet proofread

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“What? Of course, it’s a good idea! I’m the king of good ideas!”

Voices bounced off of the walls of the Brooklyn apartment building as Chad and CoCo walked side by side to the apartment at the end of the hallway.

The snow lining the sidewalks outside were typical of mid-February, giving Tasha more of a reason to stay inside on the cold Friday. But her friend insisted she leave the dark cocoon she had created for herself in her apartment just across the water in New Jersey.

Valentine’s Day was the designated time of the year to celebrate love. Chadwick had a reason to celebrate, but CoCo could no longer say the same. After months of turmoil and emotional abuse, she was a single woman again and dreading the mere thought of loving someone else. So, she planned to avoid all mentions of love and relationships for the foreseeable future. Even if that meant neglecting tradition.

“Look, Chad, we can celebrate on the 15th! This feels so...weird.”

“We celebrate Valentine’s Day together every year. We can’t skip out this year.”

“I feel like having a girlfriend is the perfect reason to miss a year,” CoCo deadpanned as they reached their intended destination. She could practically feel the excitement buzzing from the other side of the door in the form of Toni Braxton’s greatest hits so far, and started to feel bad for the woman she’d come face to face with for the first time.

“Why miss a year when we can celebrate together? And you get to meet my lady for the first time. It’ll be fun.”

“Fun my ass,” Tasha mumbled into the thick scarf around her neck, earning a look from Chadwick.

“Wanna share that with the class, Miss Greene?”

“Knock on the damn door!”

A muffled feminine voice announced that she was gearing up to answer the door adding to the uneasiness in the pit of CoCo’s belly. She knew that if she was on the other side of this encounter, seeing a woman with her boyfriend on date night would insight a riot.

When the door opened to reveal the woman she only knew as Jay, she was more than shocked at what met her. Jay was beautiful. Her slim figure came with a few curves to compliment her height. She was graceful beyond compare and impeccably dressed, making Tasha feel incredibly bland in comparison.

“Hi, baby,” Jay sang as she wrapped her arms around Chadwick and went in for a kiss. If Tasha had rolled her eyes any harder, they would’ve fallen from her skull and rolled all the way back to New Jersey to beat her home. Catching wind of another presence, Jay offered a courteous smile.

“Oh, hi! Did he forget to give you a tip downstairs?”

“A tip,” CoCo asked, obviously offended and a bit confused.

“A tip for the cab ride. I know it was hell driving in this snow. Just let me grab my purse.”

Chadwick could see Tasha’s struggle to maintain her composure, her mouth opening and closing with words she couldn’t produce.

“You know what? I’m going home. Call me to let me know you got back to your place safely.”

“No, wait,” he exclaimed before grabbing Tasha’s elbow and pulling her back to her original spot despite her struggle to pull away. Noticing the commotion, Jay turned back to Chadwick and Tasha with her brows quirked in confusion.

“Am I missing something.”

“Nope. I’ll just take my tip and be on my w-”

“Jay, this is my best friend Tasha that I’ve been telling you about. Co, this is Jayme Dubois, my girlfriend.”

A brief and unpleasant stare off preceded a chipper energy shift as Jayme went in for a hug. “CoCo, how are you! I have heard so much about you.”

“Yeah well, don’t believe any of it,” CoCo forced out between fake laughter while she made faces at Chadwick over Jayme’s shoulder.

“I’ll keep that in mind. So, what brings you over? Do you have a date in this complex? I always knew white boy Rick liked Black women.”

“Actually, Muffin, I was thinking she could spend Valentine’s Day with us. It’s been tradition for us to spend the holiday together and we don’t wanna break it.”

“So you want Tasia -”

“It’s Tasha,” CoCo interrupted in the most obnoxious tone she could muster.

“Right...Tasha. You want Tasha to spend Valentine’s Day with us? Tonight? Even though this is a couple’s holiday? Couple as in two, mind you.”

“Yes, Jay. It would really mean a lot to me.”

Jayme looked between a visibly annoyed Tasha and the pleading eyes of her boyfriend before letting go of a long sigh and stepping aside to usher her companions for the night inside.

Tasha took in her surroundings and quietly marveled. Though small because what seemed to be standard in New York, Jayme’s dwelling was equal parts colorful and classic. Had she not started the interaction on such a bad note, Tasha would’ve complimented her on the statement couch that matched her ornate rug, but she kept it to herself out of spite.

“So since we have one more, what are our plans for the night, honey bear?”

Chadwick caught the slight scrunch in CoCo’s face and ignored it to refrain from explaining the embarrassing nickname. “Well, we can still go see Definitely, Maybe like you wanted, but instead of dinner in the park, Tasha got us a reservation at this really nice Italian spot in the city.”

“I called in a favor from work. It was no big deal.”

Jayme disregarded CoCo’s smile as she took a sip from her water bottle and sat on the arm of the chair Chadwick occupied. Her hands rubbed patronizing circles around his shoulders and back, forcing Tasha to look away to save the awkward moment.

“Well, it seems like you too already have this figured out, so I’ll just grab my coat. Do you have any more suggestions, CoCo?”

“Nooope.” Tasha sang the word through gritted teeth forced into a smile. Chadwick gave her a sympathetic look before helping Jayme into her coat and ushering each woman safely out of the building.

Tasha remained the front wheel of the tricycle, preferring to stay in front of the couple to refrain from looking like the unwanted third party. With every audible kiss and nauseatingly affectionate gesture, CoCo felt her heart tighten. It wasn’t seeing Chadwick with another woman that had her fighting back tears in the theatre. She needed the sight to push her feelings for him to the furthest corner of her mind. It was the pain of knowing that she had just detached from one of the worst situations in her life, yet wanted to be with him to cure the loneliness she felt.

If she had it her way, she’d cry it out until the work week resumed on Monday in the comfort of her own home, but continued to engage in the conversation when the moment presented itself to appease Chadwick.

In a restaurant full of couples, Jayme, Chadwick, and Tasha were the only threesome in the center of the establishment. Nervous energy characterized the silence left behind when Chadwick excused himself to the restroom, leaving the women in his life to avoid eye contact.

Relief came in the form of a stout waiter visiting the table to collect dinner orders. Without realizing that the order would be incomplete without the third member of the group, the women ordered traditional dishes and wine for the table.

“And the young man? What will he have?”

“Oh! Ummm, I’m not sure,” Jayme responded as she fumbled through the menu. “Maybe you could come back in a few minutes?”

“He’ll have the Parmigiana w/ Pasta, but please be light on the sauce. He gets heartburn from all the tomatoes.”

The waiter took heed of Tasha’s warning before walking away, leaving Jayme to burn a hole in the top of Tasha’s head while she sorted through emails on her cell phone.

“How long did you say you and Chadwick have been friends?”

“Since Fall 1996. So coming up on 13 years,” Tasha answered, looking up to find an indecipherable look on Jayme’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“I just - you know him so well. His favorite candy, where he likes to sit in the theatre, what he eats at certain restaurants. I don’t know if I can keep up.”

The process of finding the right words to assure Jayme, Chadwick returned to the table and unknowingly ended the conversation before it could truly begin.

“Never in my life did I think I’d have to stand in line to use the men’s restroom. I applaud y’all for doing that,” he complained as he took his seat. “Has the waiter come back for orders yet?”

“He did actually. Tasha got you Parmigiana w/ Pasta.” Jayme secretly hoped that Chadwick would reject the choice and ask for a second go at the ordering process. She was met with the complete opposite.

“Hell yeah!” His fist met Tasha’s across the table in his childlike excitement. “I love that shit.”

“Language, honey bear.”

“Sorry, Muffin.”

“Wow,” Tasha whispered to herself, unaware that the others around the table could hear her.

“Did you want to say something, Tasha?”

“Noooope.”

The table fell silent to give way to the idle chatter in the area around them. Chadwick looked between his girlfriend and best friend trying to find a way to get them to interact with each other cordially.

“So, Co, Jayme has been trying to get into basketball lately.”

“Oh really.” Tasha was clearly uninterested as she continued to read emails on her phone from weeks ago. A subtle kick underneath her table made her look up and noticed Chadwick’s non-verbal urging for her to at least pretend to care. “Which team are you interested in, Jayme?”

“I really like the Nets! Trenton Hassell to be exact.”

“Do you? Because he averages less than two points a game. There’s not much to like.”

“Trenton is your friend’s boyfriend right, Jay?”

“Does it matter now? Tasha basically called him a bad player.”

“Not bad, per se. He’s terrible. That’s a better adjective.”

“Oh-kay,” Chadwick interjected to end the escalating conversation. “Jay, how’s work at the fashion house going?”

“Ugh, it is amazing! We got some new pieces last night and they are beautiful. Maybe you could come browse one day, Tasha. Style can always use an update.”

“I consider myself more Maxine than Regine. Thanks though. I’m sure the pieces are nice.”

Tasha successfully contained her laughter at Jayme’s expression, feeling her first surge of happiness for the day.

Chadwick felt helpless as the night continued and each attempt at joining two of his favorite women ended in a snarky comment or shady look. Dinner provided a welcome activity that didn’t require group conversation, giving him the opportunity to cater to each woman. The longer they sat and contemplated grabbing cheesecake inside the restaurant or settling for ice cream on the way home, the more he could feel Jayme disconnecting.

“Muffin, do you want the strawberry cheesecake for here or to go,” he asked as she slid her coat from the back of her chair and collected her purse.

“Actually, I don’t feel so well, honey bear. I’m gonna head home.”

“What? So soon? We didn’t even get to dessert.”

Tasha watched Jayme put on her best “sick” face and gagged internally at Chadwick falling for the charade. Jayme was far from physically sick. If she was feeling anything, it was annoyance at the fact that her boyfriend’s best friend had spent the most romantic night of the year taking the attention from her.

“Well, let me walk you outside and wait for the cab to come.”

“Thank you, honey bear.” Jayme accepted Chadwick’s help into her coat, purposely ignoring Tasha until the last second. “Good night, Tasha. Maybe we’ll see each other for another occasion. Hopefully in a less...crowded environment.”

Tasha released a short chuckle before plastering on a fake smile, “Right. I’ll pencil you into my calendar.”

Jayme offered another fake smile and nod before leading the way out of the restaurant into the Brooklyn streets.

“I’ll pencil you in and the erase that shit. Fuck her.”

Time started to drag as she sat at the table alone, looking more foolish with three plates crowding her space than playing seat warmer for the world’s cutest couple. A glance out of the window gave her access to the tail end of Jayme’s departure. Her inability to peel her eyes away from the private moment showed her two things: Chadwick was far more interested in Jayme than she was in him, and she was clearly upset despite the kiss and hug she provided before disappearing into the backseat of her taxi.

Moments later, Chadwick took the seat directly across from Tasha and sighed.

“Go ahead. Tell me that you told me so.”

“I’m not gonna say that friend,” Tasha smiled. “All I’ll say is you’re gonna need one of these cheesecakes to go because mama is PISSED.”

“You think so?”

“Oh, I know so. But, I’m here to help with gift ideas to make up for this dumbass idea. And I ordered us dessert.”

Chadwick’s ear perked at the sound of a sugar rush to end a night full of terrible decisions. “Did you get the cookie thing with the-”

“The vanilla bean ice cream on top? C’mon now! You know me!” Without hesitation, the pair completed their signature handshake before sitting back in their seats. “Sorry for ruining your date, Aaron. I’ll pay the tab as a peace offering.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it. I’ll make it up to her. You know there’s a reason she calls me honey bear.”

“Gross. Please, don’t finish that sentence. And what the fuck is Muffin? Are you a white TV dad now?”

Chadwick’s deep belly laugh at CoCo’s expense continued until their shared dessert was placed between them. Instructing Tasha to pick up her spoon, Chadwick began a pseudo-toast.

“To another Valentine’s Day spend together and many more to come!”

Their spoons clinked together in solidarity before the argument of who would get which portion of the cookie began, ending the most romantic day of the year the only way they knew how: together.

_______________

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