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petersasteria · 1 month

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we can't be friends - evan peters

Pairing: Evan Peters x Famous!Fem!Reader

Warning/s: curse words, cheating, italicized parts are flashbacks

Summary: After years of having the same problems and dating on and off, Evan finally had enough.

A/N: I got inspired by @quicksilversg1rl and @evan4ever bc i got obsessed with their writing 😫😫😫

You sat on the floor looking around your shared room with Evan with tears streaming down your face. Clothes, pillows, and blankets were scattered everywhere. Your favorite vase fell and broke into a million pieces. In your hand was a picture frame with yours and Evan’s first ever photo. You sniffed and smiled through the tears. You and Evan just met when that picture was taken. At that time, you knew he was the one for you; you knew he was the one you wanted to be with for the rest of your life.

The universe had other plans, though.

You heard footsteps and a knock on the door. You didn’t have the energy to get up. The door creaked open and you looked up to see Evan looking at you with a defeated expression.

“We can’t go on like this anymore, Y/N.” Evan whispered, sniffling. Unbeknownst to you, he had been crying in the living room. It pained him to see you hurting and it pained him knowing that you’re both hurting each other. “We’re both tired.” He said, as a tear rolled down his cheek.

You fully turned to face him and said, “Is this it? Is this final?”

He nodded, “I’m afraid so.”

You both stared at each other longingly and lovingly. Both of you didn’t know what to feel. You felt angry, sad, hurt, and most of all, you felt betrayed.

“I hate you. Evan.”

“I hate you too, Y/N.” He replied, leaning on the doorframe with his hands in his pockets. “But I love you so much. I can’t place how I feel about you.”

“Well, looks like we’re on the same boat.” You glanced at the picture in your hands and smiled a bittersweet smile, “I knew you were my soulmate in this picture and exactly a year after this photo was taken, you told me that if we both win an Oscar on our 10th year together, you’d propose.”

“Yeah.” He chuckled lightly. “Even if we didn’t win, I would still propose. I knew, the first time I met you, that you were it for me. I think you still are, and I think you’ll always be.”

You looked at him with sad eyes. He looked at you with the same expression and said, “It just fucking sucks that for some reason, we can’t work out and it’s tiring, truly.”

Evan walked in your shared apartment and slammed the door. You were on the couch, reading a book as research for a character you’re going to play in a new movie. You looked up and saw Evan walking up to you. You put a bookmark on the page you’re on before closing it and giving your full attention to an angry looking Evan.

“Who is he, and when were you planning to tell me that I’m being replaced?” Evan asked harshly.

“What the hell are you talking about?” You asked, confused.

“It’s all over the internet, Y/N! You’re on your phone 24/7. Surely, you know what’s going on!” Evan said in a tone that you couldn’t quite place.

“Just fucking tell me!” You said.

“You were out with some curly-haired dude and you were having lunch with him somewhere. You even hugged!” Evan said loudly.

You finally understood what he was talking about. “That’s not some random dude! That’s literally Timothee Chalamet, a.k.a my new co-star! We were just getting to know each other!” You explained, standing up from the couch and walking over to a stressed Evan.

“You’ve been doing this over and over! You meet up with some guy, have lunch, and then God knows what happens next!”

“What happens next is I go home to you fuming at me for no fucking reason!” You shouted. “You shouldn’t be bothered with who I’m going to be in a movie with because I was supportive when you were still being paired with Emma!”

“Oh, don’t go there. It’s not the same!”

“It is! It literally is! You’re spewing nonsense!” You chuckled dryly.

“If you want to see that Timothee guy so much, why don’t you just end it?!”

“Evan, he’s no one! He’s literally seeing someone else.” You explained.

“This is how you repay me after I worked hard for you? I basically made you, y’know?” Evan bragged. Your jaw dropped. How could he say that?

“Honey, I made myself. I worked hard for everything that I have now. You just helped me in the beginning because you said you wanted to. I don’t owe you anything, Evan!” You said.

“Fine, but I still helped you a fuck ton! Also, you DO owe me something. You owe me an apology for cheating on me!” Evan shouted. “Do you know how fucking hurt I was?”

“I didn’t cheat on you, Evan! It was a misunderstanding!” You told him. “He was nothing but a friend!”

Evan rolled his eyes, “Oh, that’s what all cheaters say, Y/N!”

You looked at him in disbelief. How could he believe the tabloids like that? He didn’t understand, or at least tried to. You were brought back to reality when Evan said something you didn’t quite hear.

“What did you say?” You asked.

“I said, you did this once before. Not to me, but to your ex. You told me you two were broken up, remember? Then I found out the following week that you were, in fact, still very much together and let me guess, you told him that we were friends too, huh? You’re a lying, two-timing, bitch, Y/N. Don’t try to manipulate me because I know the truth.” Evan said. His eyes were dark and lifeless. It made sense. After all, how could his eyes have life anymore after what your relationship has been through?

You stayed quiet. You didn’t want to add fuel to the fire. Evan sighed loudly, tired from the constant bickering. He looked down, put his hands on his hips and said, “Timothee’s your new co-star?”

“Yeah.” You answered. “So what? That’s all there is between us! It’s just work, E.”

He chuckled dryly before looking up at you, “I was your co-star once. Funny, because you seem to have a routine. You have a new male co-star while you’re in a relationship, then you two-time, breakup with the previous guy, and then continue to date the new guy like nothing happened. Then you tell everyone that it’s all a misunderstanding when in reality, you just like to hop from one relationship to another.”

“That’s not true.”

“Oh, it is.” He smiled bitterly before sitting down on the couch and burying his face in his hands. “I’m tired. I’m so tired of your shit.” He whispered. “This relationship is bullshit!” He yelled and pushed away all the things from the coffee table in one swipe before flipping the actual table.

You were in shock. You didn’t know he was capable of doing that. Your heart broke and ached when you heard him crying. You started crying too. You hated seeing him like this. He looked up at you and said, “I love you, but I fucking hate you.”

“I’m not stupid, Y/N. I know that you and your team make me out to be the bad guy; the reason why you and your ex broke up. You keep painting this bad picture of me and congratu-fucking-lations because it’s working! People ACTUALLY believe that shit you’re saying about me!”

“You tell them that I’m a bad boyfriend or that I chased after you knowing you were in a relationship. We both know that’s bullshit and I don’t know why you keep doing that while you keep coming back to me like you’ve done nothing wrong! I don’t get it, Y/N! Let’s just end this, please!”

The tension was thick. You didn’t know what to do or what to say.

“We’ve been breaking up and getting back together since 2015! You tell everyone that you’re sick of me because I’m ‘toxic’, but you love me again after every failed date with a famous actor. So much has happened that nothing can fix us anymore.” Evan said sadly. “We’ve been on and off for 9 years and I think it’s time for me to choose myself. I need that; you need that.”

You walked out and ran to your shared room, slamming the door. You didn’t know what came over you. Whatever you saw, you threw it across the room

That’s how you ended up in your current state. You hated fighting with Evan, but he was right. It’s time to end your relationship.

“I love you with everything in me, Evan.”

“If you love me as you say you do, promise me that you won’t say stuff about me to the media. You’ve already tarnished my name, don’t drag it along the muck and the mud. If you love me, you’ll respect that.” Evan pleaded. “I’ve never said anything about you, have I? I kept all your secrets and I kept all my emotions bottled up just so you could keep the name I helped you build.”

“I promise.” You said. He had endured so much. You didn’t want him to go through it all again. “I love you, Evan.” You repeated. He gave you a tight-lipped smile, “I love you too. You’ll always have a special place in my heart.”

Both of you decided to move out a week later, neither of you wanted to stay at the once shared apartment, afraid of the ghosts of your past coming to haunt you every night. You stayed in the same city, in the same area. Oftentimes, you found yourself driving to the old apartment just to stare at it longingly before driving away.

As for Evan, you didn’t know where he moved away to. He never told you where he lived, but you hoped he was living a quiet and peaceful life. He deserved it after dealing with a chaos like you.

You never saw him again. Not at award shows, not at after parties, and not at random get-togethers with mutual friends. You heard that he hasn’t contacted anyone in your circle of friends. Eventually, you moved on and dated Timothee Chalamet. Evan was right. Maybe you did have a routine, you just weren’t aware.

A year passed and still, no one has heard from him, so it surprised you to see his name on the list of nominees for Best Actor at the Oscars. You didn’t know he filmed a movie. He just went AWOL and came back like nothing happened.

At the Oscars, you sat on the section next to Evan’s, but you were one row behind. You caught a glimpse of him, smiling at other A-list celebrities before sitting down. The whole time you felt like you were in limbo until you heard that it was time to announce the winner for the Best Actor category. You were on the edge of your seat as you watched the presenter announce who the winner was.

Timothee, who sat next to you, silently prayed while keeping his cool. He knew cameras were everywhere and it made him anxious.

“And the Academy Award for Best Actor goes to… Evan Peters!” The presenter smiled.

Evan was shocked. He didn’t expect to win. He stood up, shook hands with his co-stars, and walked up on stage. Timothee was devastated, but he smiled, nonetheless. Evan thanked the presenter before receiving the award.

“Wow.” Evan said with a smile before looking down at the shiny, gold award. “I’ve dreamt about this for so long and now that it’s finally happening, I don’t know what to say.”

Your heart soared. He was still the same Evan you once knew and loved, yet something felt different about him. He was like a stranger, but he wasn’t.

He looked ahead and met your eyes. He gave you a curt smile before thanking every single person he wanted to thank.

“I want to thank the entire cast and crew. Without you guys, there’d be no movie to film. Thank you to the amazing casting director who believed in me and I share this award with you because you’re the one who picked me out of hundreds of better actors. Thank you to my family who has been supportive since day one and thank you to the undying support of my loving fans. You guys are the reason I’m still here. The last few years have been really hard for me, especially last year, but I’m very happy to say that no matter what hardship you’re going through, good karma is on its way to hit you. Again, thank you!” Evan smiled and walked off stage.

Everyone clapped and the same presenter announced the nominees for your category, Best Actress. You were extremely nervous. Win or lose, you knew you did a great job. Timothee held your hand and squeezed it lightly before giving it a kiss when your name was announced as a nominee right after Jennifer Lawrence. “And the Academy Award for Best Actress goes to… Y/N Y/L/N!”

Your jaw dropped and Timothee cheered the loudest. He stood up and he helped you up before pulling you in for a hug. “Congratulations, mon amour!” Timothee smiled before kissing your cheek.

You thanked him before walking to the stage. You thanked the presenter as they handed you the award. You glanced at Evan and he gave you a small smile. You held his gaze for a few seconds before starting your speech.

“There’s so many people to thank, but there’s so little time.” You chuckled lightly. “Thank you to the Academy, thank you to the cast and crew, thank you to my family and friends who have been supporting me since forever! My fans! Oh god, my loving fans! Thank you for your unwavering support. Timmy, my love, thank you for sticking with me during tough times. Lastly, I just want to say a quick shoutout and a quick thank you to Evan. I wouldn’t be here without you and I kinda owe you a lot and words of thanks are not enough, but I hope it’s a start. Thank you, truly.”

Evan didn’t expect that. He didn’t expect anything at all. He just wanted peace and now he felt like the world was watching him again through your point of view. He didn’t want the attention. He thought the attention was unnecessary. Now he knew for sure that people would talk about it on social media.

The after party was a blast and everyone was busy dancing, talking, and having fun. Evan was minding his own business like usual and you didn’t know if you should approach or not. As you stood up, you were whisked away by Timothee, who wanted to introduce you to Zendaya and Tom Holland. You smiled at him before glancing back at Evan. As if he knew you were watching, he looked up from his phone and glanced at you. He gave you a tight-lipped smile and he raised his glass before paying attention to his phone once more. It was at that moment you knew that you and Evan won’t get back together and won’t even be friends. You looked away from him and never looked back.

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A/N: This is my first Evan fic sksksks I have another one in store

#evan peters #evan peters x reader #evan peters fanfic #evan peters fic #evan peters x reader angst #evan peters angst

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peiskos-and-apricity · 2 months

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Fated to Fall ~ Sindri x Reader [PT7]

TW: Cannon typical violence

A/n: I think I'm gonna start a tag list for this book because chapters are so inconsistent (sorry about that). So if you want to be tagged for this story just let me know! [Or you can bookmark it on Ao3 here]

|Chapter selection|

|Previous|

"Sindri!" Atreus yelled in greeting, his smile wide on his face. You were too distracted to turn to the boy as you watched Kratos' eyes try to melt you where you stand.

"I'd return your surprise but I did know you'd be here!" Sindri returned the greeting with a tone more cheerful than a few moments ago. And, once the two had gotten closer, he continued.

"I've got something for you!" Those words seemed to peak Kratos' interest. At least enough for him to slowly turn his eyes away from you and to the dwarf.

"What is it dwarf?" He asked, his voice monotone in a way that you knew meant he was irritated. Looking back towards Sindri you see his hands fidgeting and nervous in his movements, especially as he began to walk away from the table and what you knew he was gifting them with.

"You know I'm glad I came back here at least once before Ragnarok" he spoke, turned away from all of you as he did. As if talking to no one.

"Oh, if these cobblestones could talk" he reminisced as he looked around longingly. It was clear he really did miss this place.

"Then they'd have mouths...filthy disgusting mouths" he glances turned much more stiff, almost like he was imagining what it would be like and being quietly horrified with the thought. Then suddenly he turned back over, pointing towards Atreus.

"Do you mind if I fiddle with your bow?" He asked and without hesitation the boy handed it over.

It was then that Kratos turned to you before motioning you away. You knew better than to fight the simple request, as bad as you wished not to speak with him, so you followed him.

"You should not be here" he started the conversation off on the worst note possible, though you knew him as a man of very little subtly.

"Given the way the entire city cowers away it seems neither should the two of you" you answered with the same energy as him. With a sudden movement he was looming over you again, this time his anger not so hidden as it was before.

"This childishness needs to end. This is reckless" he spoke in a poor attempt at a whisper through gritted teeth. You felt every inch of your body boil at him having put himself so close to you, his figure mere inches away. So much so that your glare turned snarl like with the sudden wave of rage that overtook you. You were sure, had you not gotten your cloak, that your eyes would be gleaming at him.

"I am aware you think so little of me that you believe I'm so unable to control myself. So I have taken precautions" you display the metal rings that you had placed in your satchel and gesture down at the white bear skin you had placed on your body lined in a magic hidden from plain view.

"I will have you know, though, that even without these my leave would have been anything but reckless, given that you left me behind with no clue as to what was happening. So my apologies for being so childish as to want to know the reason I was nearly killed the other night and why we must so suddenly search for a dead god" you spoke through your own set of gritted teeth and anger. You two remained standing for a long paused moment in utter silence as you stared at one another, as if waiting to see who folded first.

"Hrm..." he finally answered. Despite your growing anger his seemed to simmer and, thankfully, he took a step back from you.

"Uh, if I may cut in here a moment-" Mimir tried to interject.

"No" the both of you answered in unison. After that it seemed Kratos had finished whatever business he had with you as he went to return to Sindri and Atreus. You followed not so far behind.

"Skjálfa!" Atreus released an arrow into a nearby wagon, the medal there compressing the same way the gate did. The boy's smile widened at the sight.

"Cool-"

"Atreus, this way" Kratos called and the boy was about to follow, though not without a curious look at you.

"Are you coming?" He asked to which you gave a nod. To your surprise he looked quite excited.

"Awesome! Come on, I'll catch you up on the way" he waved you forward. You went to follow, though upon looking where the two intended on going you grew a little weary.

"It's a bit dark in there" you commented mostly to yourself. Right before you could take another step you heard Sindri speak up again.

"Oh! That reminds me! Hold on just a moment" Sindri stopped the two of you as he went digging around in his bag. He pulled out a few random things before he seemed to find what he was looking for.

"Since you all are currently lacking a light source, sorry, I went ahead and made these for you! I only made two, though. I didn't expect that you would need one. But I'll get right to it! It'll be done by the time you all make it back" he outstretched the glowing lights which you and Atreus gratefully took from him.

"I'll make due until then. Thank you" Sindri nodded and turned back to do whatever else he had come here to do.

"Atreus!" Kratos called again. You and the boy glanced at one another before quickly catching up.

Once the three were gone Sindri went about cleaning up shop, knowing that they most likely wouldn't return here for a long while. Frankly he didn't want to stay long either, not after what Odin had done to the place he once called home.

It only took a moment later he was off again, back through the Yggdrasil and to the home he now knew. However, whatever comfort he had been looking for evaporated the moment he opened the doors. He was hit with disgust, his eyes catching each tiny stain and out of place chair. He wrinkled his nose at the sight before quickly setting off to tidy the place up.

He zoned out while he was cleaning, for the most part. His mind was mostly on what his new project might be and how he would be able to keep up with the mess all the others seemed so keen on making. And soon enough the inside looked spotless and he was off to clean up the mess outside. That being the branch peices that had been shattered all over the ground earlier. So he swept and swept and swept. As he did, his mind wandered from projects and future messes and instead became caught on the stranger he had only recently met. He had to admit it stung a little, not knowing this person who seemed so caught in the lives of those he cared for. He knew it probably shouldn't, yet it did all the same.

He hardly had time to ruminate on the topic when he heard a set of feet he knew all too well, a glance behind showing his brother arriving back home.

"Brok!" He called, the blue dwarf turning his head almost immediately at the sound.

"The fuck you want!" He called back. Sindri took his opportunity to swipe away the last of the splintered branches before quickly making his way to his brothers side.

"I thought you should know the bow string worked! It was actually more effective than I had originally anticipated!" Sindri began his boasting, the project something he had largely worked on by himself. He got an eye roll in response.

"Well whoopty fuckin' do. Least I know yer done blowin' up all my shit" Sindri immediately regretted having said anything.

"It was one time! At least I don't nearly burn the house down every time I make something to eat!" He rebutted but Brok seemed hardly effected.

"If ya don't like my methods then you can cook yer own damn food!" Brok took a turn into the workshop to which Sindri didn't follow. Instead he stood annoyed on the other side of the workbench. Something Brok didn't seem to notice or care about either as he went to work on whatever he had planned.

For a while longer there was silence between the two. That was until Sindri found himself thinking about the stranger again. He found that his curiosity only grew the more he allowed himself to think about it.

"How long have you known them?" Sindri asked out of the blue. Brok's face twisted a moment, his eyes glancing towards his brother before back down to his work.

"Who're ya talkin' about?" he asked, striking his hammer once more.

"Y/n- you know who I'm talking about! You two seemed close" he asked again, this time Brok considered his words.

"What's got ya so curious?" Sindri took a moment to ponder exactly that. Surely it was just because of your shared company. But perhaps too it could be his intrigue in your work and his astonishment at your lack of care for it. Or even just the simple fact that he was curious for curiosity's sake.

Maybe it was that you just seemed so strangely familiar. Like the itch of a memory he couldn't quite grab hold of. A stranger he's somehow met before.

"Nothing in particular. I just find it strange that I didn't know about them until now" Sindri settles on the obvious answer but his tone was sharper than he had meant it. He wasn't sure if Brok noticed.

"I's told ya about 'em before. Just not in no detail" Brok explained which only brought more questions to Sindri.

"Why not?" Was the one he decided it best to ask first.

"'Cause it weren't nothin' your nose needed stickin' in" he answered flatly.

"Well it seems to be plenty of my business now" Sindri countered and Brok huffed.

"Ain't nothin' important to tell you" Sindri was growing unsatisfied with his answers.

"But why not just tell me anyway?" Brok was growing visibly frustrated.

"S'this some sorta interrogation?" He was openly indignant by this point but Sindri most definitely wasn't backing down. So, before Sindri could try to push him again and further delay his work, he answered.

"I mets 'em when they's was half dead fightin' off some Draugr at the start'a Fimbulwinter. Didn't know they's was involved with the other two until a whiles after. Now if yer done sniffin' my ass like a dung beetle on date night, I would like to get back to work!" Brok's frustration became more visible the more he spoke until he was eventually fully turned to Sindri, his annoyance more than obvious.

"Well if you would have just answered my questions I wouldn't have to ask so many!" Sindri defended against the clear wishes of his brother, causing him to turn back to his work in a huff.

"If ya don't get yerself somethin' better ta do I swear ta whatever god'll listen that I'll jump over this table and lick ya-"

"Leaving!" Sindri didn't hesitate to immediately vacate the area, knowing damn well that Brok's threat was anything but empty. Yet now he felt his curiosity nearly burn him, Brok's words having only left him with more to question. But he tried to brush it off as best he could.

He had work to do after all.

The journey was longer than you had originally thought, but finally, after having met Durlin and walking yourselves through precarious machines, old maze like mine shafts and fighting frankly less creatures than you would have thought while looking for a maybe not so dead god, the four of you had made it to a final set of large wooden doors. Well, technically not so much the final door as it was the last one you all would be looking through, considering you could all spend weeks in here if you really wanted to search the place.

It looked pretty sealed, more than any other the four of you had gone through anyway. But it wasn't anything difficult for you all to figure out. A few shots from Atreus' new bow string took out the metal on the sides well enough and a good pull from Kratos' blades should-

"Hvat er at gerast!?" A voice yelled behind, your head immediately whipping to the sound and in so meeting the eyes of strangers. And oh boy, they didn't seem to friendly.

"We've got company!" You yelled, making sure the other two managed to pull themselves away from the task at hand. Thankfully, whether due to your words or the strangers yelling, they did.

Your movements were natural, planned. Kratos was quick to take his pick of the group and Atreus happily went to help, given that the two always did work so much better together. So you were left with the other. You didn't feel any need to complain though. As far as you were concerned you got the easy work. They had to deal with the bigger guy and you were pretty sure there were others heading their way.

"Alright, let's get this over with" you taunted your enemy, though you were pretty sure they couldn't understand you. Either way they didn't hesitate to charge.

The battle was as controlled as chaos got, as battles like this usually were. Every blow could have left you mauled, but such was the life you all lived. And, if you were being honest, they weren't really much of a challenge. A minor inconvenience at most.

Bodies dropped and it seemed that you all would get through this quickly. It lessened your hope that there was anything in the locked room if these were the people guarding it. Either way their numbers dwindled and soon only two remained. Given that you currently had your axe handle thoroughly wrapped around the throat of one of them, that would soon be only one.

You had thought to go through the effort of breaking his neck before a quick glance showed Atreus in front of you, his arrow waiting for a mark.

"Atreus! Over here!" You called. A second later the stranger fell limp, an arrow embedded in his skull.

"Behind you!" Atreus yelled as you dropped the body in your arms. You dodged at the last moment, the strangers weapon hitting nothing but dirt and rock. He hardly had a chance to look up before Kratos' axe met the back of his head. And so he dropped limp atop the other, the bodies piling up.

Then, finally, it seemed that it was over.

"Clearly they don't want us in there. This has to be it" Atreus proclaimed with all the confidence and hope that you couldn't have imagined clinging to by his age.

"Back to it then" Mimir encouraged, though you couldn't help but feel a little bad for the soon to be dashed hopes of the boy.

"I don't know. I feel like if Odin was going to hide away a war god, it would be with far more than a few Einherjar..." you tried to caution them. This all felt far too easy.

"Agreed" Kratos spoke, but his blades dug into the wood anyway and soon he was pulling the door from its hinges.

You had to give credit where was was due, if there was one thing Kratos did well, it was tear things apart. So it wasn't a surprise when he did so easily. The door collapsed in a way similar to a tree; its movement slow at first before quickly colliding with the ground.

Dust covered your vision, your hands trying to swipe the cloud away and coughing as it still made it to your lungs. But soon it settled, bits of light traveling through the remnants of it searching for a source other than the thin clouds to reflect off of. Your eyes squinted through the strange haze when finally you saw someone. Before a moment more could pass as the three of you approached, you heard Atreus call out.

"Tyr!" The name sent your stomach to your throat as you realized that you did in fact now stand at the feet of a once dead god. You couldn't find words. You hardly believed what you were seeing. By every sane metric it shouldn't be, yet here you stood, steps away from who you had long known as legend told in stories of great acts of kindness and mercy. A betrayer of Aesir, a god of war who fought for his mission towards peace.

"What trickery is this, Odin? What game do you play with me now?" His head hardly moved and didn't dare raise to meet the eyes of any of you. He only sat, unmoving, uncaring.

"We're not with Odin. We're the good guys!" Atreus, ever the optimist, tried to convince Tyr that this wasn't some sort of trick. An attempt you knew was in vain just from a glance at the fallen god. It was then you noticed he was far from what he once was. A broken man with the fading visage of a legend among many.

You placed a hand on Atreus' shoulder to hold him back. The boy glanced up at you as you shook your head slightly, warning him to keep his distance.

Kratos wasted no time in getting behind Tyr and grabbing the rope that clung to his neck. With a pull the rope grew taught and a swift swing his blades cut threw it easily.

Far too easily.

"This...Is the god of war?" Kratos asked the question, though by his tone you knew he was far from impressed. You gave him a sharp look. That was surely no way to address someone who had spent hundreds of years hidden away at the mercy of God's as cruel as the Aesir.

"Those blades..." Tyr spoke, his eyes transfixed on the red glow that had cut him free. But then the eyes fell again, acceptance covering him.

"I know you..." his tone was full of subtle disdain.

"God-killer" his disdain no longer subtle. His eyes finally met Kratos

"Have you come for me now?" He asks, his resentment clear. His words weren't empty; he knew of the ghost.

"Only to free you-" your father tried reaching a hand.

"Stay away!" Tyr quickly coward from him as he moved himself away, his tone a beg for mercy in its own. Atreus tried to step in but your hand held him back once more. His look to you was full of confusion that you cooled with a patient stare.

"Brother, let me try" Mimir spoke up and Kratos didn't hesitate to give the man a chance.

"Tyr- Tyr! Look...You know me, don't you?" Mimir's voice was jovial, friendly even. Like he was meeting with an old pal under far less dire circumstances.

"You...You killed Mimir!" Well that certainly wasn't the reaction you had hoped for.

"No, no! No, no no no!" Mimir frantically tried to convince.

"Yeah we- we brought him right back!" Atreus, in his own set of frantics now, tried to calm the situation in the worst way possible. You pulled the boy away from Tyr as you saw things quickly going south.

"You...stay away from me, you monsters!" Tyr cried out, whatever previous confidence he held staring down the god-killer now utterly evaporated as he stumbles his way to his feet, bumping the door frame on his way out.

"Stop!" Atreus pulled from your grip and began to run after him, taking only a glance back to the three of you as he went to catch up.

"We need him!" He justified before booking it after him.

"Wait!" Kratos called as he took a spot beside you. The both of you barely set to a run before more of the Einherjar came down from above and out of crevices. You hardly had the time to see one attempt a push and pull match with Kratos when you have two on you. You struggle against them a moment, shifting your weight around until one falls to your heel, a quick stomp knocking them out before you were able to throw the other to the ground beside them, your axe splitting their skull just in time for you to look up and see Kratos shoved through some unstable wood and out of sight completely. And worse yet, he left three more up here for you to deal with.

Great. Looks like you've got to figure this out on your own.

#gow #god of war #gow ragnarok #gowr #gow sindri #god of war sindri #god of war x reader #gow x reader #gow sindri x reader #fated to fall #gow kratos & reader #gow atreus #gow kratos #gow atreus & reader #gow ragnarok sindri #gow ragnarok x reader #gow ragnorak #gow reader insert #gender neutral reader

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writer-in-theory · 2 years

Text

wishing on dandelions — spencer reid

prompt: “are you trying to impress me?” “is it working?” summary: spencer likes you, you like spencer. the problem is? neither of you know it. luckily, you both know just how to show it. pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader category: fluff content warnings: language word count: 2.6k a/n: this is for foxy's ( @foxy-eva ) 500 follower writing challenge. this was a wonderful prompt to write for and i'm so excited to be able to celebrate your wonderful achievements. you're seriously one of the kindest, most remarkable people i've gotten to meet here and i am so so thankful for you. thanks for being you, and a huge congratulations!

masterlistwanna join my taglist?

“What are you reading?”

Even before you answered, you knew Emily would give you Hell. It wasn’t like you didn’t deserve it either, considering the light headache already beginning to run through your temples as you forced yourself through the book in your hands.

“Nothing,” you answered quickly, shutting the book too fast to consider the fact that you hadn’t slid your bookmark into place yet, preferring instead to shove it into place and shove the drawer closed with a harsh slam. You’d curse yourself later when you were flipping through the pages to find the spot you’d left off, but for now, you could only sigh in relief once the novel was out of sight.

“I imagined the book in your hand?” Emily asked, an amused look already taking over her expression. She knew something, and even worse she looked like she was planning something.

“Yep, you must’ve. I don’t read.”

“Now I know you’re lying,” she laughed.

“Fine,” you conceded, even if you knew she wouldn’t have pressed further if you were truly uncomfortable. “It’s Great Expectations.”

“I thought you hated Dickens. You went on a rant about him last month.”

“Did I? Maybe I just wanted to try something new.” It was then Emily’s entire face lit up with recognition before settling into a smirk.

“Or you wanted to try someone new.”

Of course, you knew what she meant. You could’ve predicted that was the way the conversation was going—considering just last week she’d accused you of ‘staring longingly’ at the man in question. There was no longing stare to be found, to be clear, but your friend hadn’t taken that answer well.

Maybe that was because Emily Prentiss was one of the best profilers you’d ever met, and she could see in your eyes that you were full of shit.

Because the truth was, you were truly, madly, deeply in love with one Dr. Spencer Reid. How could you not be? When Penelope had recommended you to fill the open media liaison position, she’d even warned you about the man. This unassuming man with curly hair, the widest doe-like brown eyes you’d ever seen, and a smile that could light up the room if only he allowed everyone to see it. He would be reserved until a topic of interest came up, in which his entire image changed as he began waving his hands about and talking excitedly to whoever would listen.

You loved listening to Spencer talk about what he loved—which was, seemingly, everything. Not everyone did, and while you understood to a point you couldn’t imagine how anyone could be annoyed by the sweet man who found joy in teaching others all he had learned already. Because over the months of being on the team, you’ve found how each member showed how much they cared despite never once taking a profiling course.

Hotch told you to take the next morning off after a particularly brutal case whose victims reminded you a little too much of family. Penelope would give you the most comforting hug you’d ever experienced, making you wish you could stay in your friends’ arms forever. You knew Morgan loved you when he began to tease you in the same way he’d tease the others—always playfully and never without any true malice. JJ would bring a snack over to your desk when you’d been working too long, setting it down and reminding you that taking a break sometimes helps you re-attack old problems with new solutions.

And Spencer, darling Spencer, would tell you all about the historical context of a book written a century before. You rarely knew what he was talking about, preferring instead to read more recent books with language more easily understood. That never stopped you from smiling and nodding along, paying more attention to the corners of his eyes that crinkled up when he got to a particularly interesting point than any words he was saying.

Though Spencer loved telling people all he knew, it was a sight to behold when he found someone who shared his interests. There was the kid on a case that was trying to learn magic—you were sure nothing could beat the sweetness of Spencer knelt down closer to the ground, excitedly showing the kid simple magic tricks to keep her thoughts off of what was happening to her family. His entire expression lit up when someone countered something he said with anything resembling recognition.

And, frankly, you couldn’t be that person for him as much as you wanted to. You’d never been interested in magic, or history, or even literature that didn’t include a steamy makeout scene. But you did like reading, and so maybe if you forced it, at least this once, you could see that excited expression for yourself.

“I wanted to be able to talk to him about this book,” you admitted when Emily showed no signs of leaving, “but, damn, do I not love it.”

“What’s so wrong with it?”

“For one, it’s practically written in Old English. I’m having to reread almost every sentence just to keep up with what’s going on. I lo—Spencer’s great, but I’m seriously questioning his taste in books right now,” you groaned, half-teasing considering this book was considered a classic by most of the world.

“Then don’t read it,” Emily told you simply, shrugging her shoulders. “You don’t need to force yourself through a book to get Reid’s attention, you already have it.”

“I don’t think so,” you answered quickly, head tilting down in an attempt to hide whatever evidence your rapidly heating cheeks were revealing. “We’re good friends, that’s all.”

“If that’s really what you believe, maybe you should be reading that book,” Emily teased before making her way out of your office, giving only a small, knowing smile as a goodbye.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean!” you called after her, sighing when there wasn’t any response.

You got your answer the next weekend at the park.

The team was given the weekend off—and expressly told not to step foot in the office or face Hotch’s protective wrath—so you decided to relax in the place you were most at ease. Though instead of being out on the soccer pitch like you normally would on your days off, this time you’d found a bench not far from them to read your book. Maybe it would be easier like this, in the outdoors in the place you were always comfortable in.

It must’ve been a correct assumption too because by midday you’d made it further through the novel than on any other day prior. It wasn’t so bad once you got used to the style, but even still you couldn’t imagine willingly searching out another of its kind anytime soon.

Just when the inklings of a focus headache began to settle over your mind, a rogue soccer ball came rolling to a stop by your leg.

“I’m sorry, I’m new to the sport and—Y/N?” the voice rambled nervously as you bent down to retrieve the ball. It was only when you looked up to hand it to the owner that you understood the shaky way they’d said your name.

Because there was Spencer, sweating and panting in front of you. He wore an old CalTech t-shirt and shorts that were far too short for either of your own goods. You flushed, eyes averting back to his glistening face if only to not focus on those damned shorts.

“You play soccer?” you asked, tossing him the ball and smiling when he fumbled it before holding on tight.

“Um, yeah, yes, I’ve been playing for years,” Spencer told you and it was your turn to seem surprised, an eyebrow lifting as you took in his almost fearful expression.

“I thought you just said you were new...?”

“I did? Oh right, that. Well that was, that was clearly about this park. I’ve never played here, and the fields are different from the ones I’m used to.”

Spencer was a terrible liar, but at least he was cute while doing it. It wasn’t clear why he would lie, but maybe he was just embarrassed about a kick so rogue that it had knocked the ball into a bench a few yards from the pitch.

“Want to scrimmage then?” you asked, sliding your bookmark into place before placing the book on the bench beside you.

“Oh, I’m sure you’re busy reading...you read Dickens?” Spencer's face seemed unsure at first, eyes flitting between you and the book before settling on the space just between.

“All the time, he’s one of my favorite authors,” you lied, hoping your voice was steady enough for him to believe you.

It seemed you’d gotten away with the lie because then Spencer was beaming as he asked, “What’s your favorite?”

“Oh, well...” you stalled, searching through your mind for any other title you could give him. The answer came from a Muppets special you watched at the same time every year. So as you silently thanked Miss Piggy for providing the answer you’d desperately needed, you told Spencer, “it’s hard to beat A Christmas Carol.”

Spencer’s laugh was like a bell. You didn’t get to hear it often—the man usually preferred to give tentative smiles rather than anything so uninhibited—so when you did, you couldn’t help but laugh along.

“You’re right, there’s no better one than that.”

“So that scrimmage?” you countered, hoping to switch to a topic more your speed. If you were going to talk books with Spencer, then you’d need far more time to prepare than what you had now. Luckily, Spencer agreed with you. He nodded, handing the soccer ball out to you hesitantly before following you out to the center pitch. “Best of three?”

Spencer nodded, eyeing the ball like it was a gun rather than anything fun. He made the first move, reaching out to kick at the ball. It was easy to counter—Spencer never kicked it with any force and could hardly keep it near him. Before you knew it, you were launching the ball solidly into the net on Spencer’s side of the pitch.

You thought it would be fun to play with Spencer. After all, this was the sport you usually spent your time off of work playing. You’d been playing ever since you were a kid, nailing down your skills until you were one of the best in your league. It was where you got most of your stress-release from—never feeling more like you belonged than when you at a soccer ball at your feet.

“You said you’ve played before?” you asked, jogging back to the center where Spencer was standing with something that looked scarily like awe in his eyes.

“It’s been a few years, but yes.”

“Spencer,” you began slowly, not wanting to offend him but definitely wanting to know what was going on, “I mean this in the best way, but you play like the tots I teach every Thursday.”

“You teach kids soccer?” Spencer practically gasped, a smile threatening to lift each corner of his lips. If you didn’t know any better, you might say the look in his eyes was one of pride and awe.

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“Well technically, I have played before. My Dad used to try to get me to like sports as a kid, there was one summer he enrolled me in a soccer league,” Spencer explained with a huff of shaky air, “I haven’t played since I was young.”

And that, well, that explained everything. You smiled, feeling more at ease now that the puzzle was beginning to come together. “You could’ve told me that, you know. I don’t mind if you’ve never played before, and I could’ve scaled back so it was more fun for you.”

“You don’t need to scale back, it’s nice seeing you do something you love,” Spencer told you sincerely, his expression softening as he seemed to consider the idea. “I didn’t expect you to be here. I was trying to...”

“What?” you pressed gently when Spencer didn’t continue. Your mind flashed briefly back to the book left abandoned on the bench beside the pitch, to the words Emily had told you a week before. You already have Spencer’s attention.

“Spencer,” you started, taking a shaky breath to steel yourself for what was to come. Who knew if he would take this well, or if your friendship would be ruined forever. So instead of looking at him, your eyes focused on a small patch of dandelions growing beside the pitch. As a kid, when you sat on the bench during games you used to pick those little weeds up. You’d hold them tight and blow on them, to wish that the kid you had a crush on would like you back. You wondered if it actually worked, and if it was a good sign you stood in a patch of them now.

“Yes?” he asked, sounding nearly as breathless as you.

“You learned to play soccer because you knew I liked it,” you explained slowly, as though you were giving him a chance to deny it. When he didn’t, you added, “Were you trying to impress me?”

Spencer stood still then, hardly even blinking as he watched you. His eyes tracked to what you were staring at and smiled when he found the little weeds growing near his foot.

“Is it working?” he asked, voice steady as his confidence returned. His eyes met yours for a brief moment and you’d swear the man smirked.

“Not in the least bit,” you laughed, stepping closer to him, “but luckily, I happen to like you already and don’t need impressed.”

“That’s very lucky,” Spencer breathed, watching your lips as you stepped into his personal space, one hand tentatively resting on his upper arm. It was unbearably hot out, the sun shining down on both of you, but you didn’t care because you were here with Spencer. You were with Spencer, who wanted to see you play soccer not because he enjoyed it but because he enjoyed seeing you happy. Spencer, who talked to you about books and never once minded if you had no intentions of ever reading them.

It was you who kissed Spencer first, gripping onto his old t-shirt to keep him close. Spencer once complained loudly to the team about being near someone when they’d been in the heat for too long, but instead of pushing you away, he melted into your arms.

He kissed you back, and it was perfect.

“I was trying to impress you too,” you admitted breathlessly afterward, not wanting to let go of him just yet.

Spencer let out the loudest laugh yet—head tilting back a little and eyes crinkling in a way that made you smile. “I know, Y/N. You said your favorite Dickens work was A Christmas Carol.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“There’s not,” Spencer conceded, “but I know you read modern works. I’ve never once seen you with anything of that type before.”

“And you won’t ever again,” you laughed. “I’ll still to soccer from now on if you stick to telling me all about these books.”

“Deal.”

That kiss was somehow sweeter than the first.

GENERAL TAGLIST@samuel-de-champagne-problems @silverhetdanes @ssawonderland @reidsbookclub @katymarie @mrsobrien888 @writingquillsandpainpills @fightingdragonswithreid @lil-stark @sweetandsunny @stillsleepynat @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @givemeth @foxy-eva @lilibet261 @kateyee @exhaleli @m-mhotchner @darkeunology @nomajdetective @fairyellieee @meggie-m00n @twofacesoftheworldbutnotsome @kaitieskidmore1 @delicatespencer @serenity-lattes @goldentournesol @rexorangecouny @sultrypotter @tanyaherondale @reliefplease @lcveandrea @1-800-brain-and-heart @thisiscalm-andits-doctor @nani-2305 @betharios @mente-sindescanso @girloncorneliastreet @reidselle @pygmygoat-bicyclehelmet @just-a-lone-writer @jj76889 @luna-novae @maltamurdock @folkreid

ONESHOT TAGLIST@multixfandomwriter @justreadingficsdontmindme @natashxromanovfreads @nano-noa @tisi25 @cheshire-spiral-eye

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #jay writes in theory

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koolkat9 · 7 months

Text

GerEng Week 2023 - Day 5

@gereng-week

Prompt: Alice in Wonderland AU || Memories

Rating: T

Pairing: GerEng

Word Count: 709

Read on AO3

Times Have Changed

The rose garden was young Prince Arthur’s favourite place in the Hearts’ castle. He had ditched his guards for the afternoon and retired here to catch up on some reading and finally have a moment to himself. He knew why the guards were important, but within the castle walls which were also heavily guarded, why did he need to have a handful of them following him around everywhere?

Amongst the petals and thorns, he felt safe. The guards would know where he was though, so he had to enjoy his seclusion while it lasted.

He had just settled on a bench with his book when he heard a thump followed by a faint crying. He tried to ignore it at first, but then it became louder. With a sigh, he slipped in the bookmark and tried to follow the wails.

A boy, a couple of years younger than Arthur was hunched over on the gravel path, eyes welled with tears. Arthur looked around for a parent or sibling. What was this child doing in the castle in the first place? He squinted down at the boy.

“Who are you,” Arthur asked cooly.

The boy just sniveled, furiously wiping his eyes. Arthur noted the scrapes of red on his palms.

With a sigh, Arthur crouched before him, holding out a handkerchief. He took the boy's hand and cleaned up the small beads of blood. “We’ll have to get you bandages and a proper cleaning but this should help for now. Are you out here alone?”

The boy looked around before nodding. “I can’t find my brother,” he whispered wetly, “I was just with him but…”

“It’s okay. We’ll find him.” Arthur looked over the boy. There was something familiar about those piercing eyes. “Is your brother by chance a guard?”

“Mhm…He’s the captain.”

Just his luck.

Arthur looked longingly at his book before offering his hand to the boy. “Come. We’ll look for him together.

The boy stared at the hand, lip quivering, eyes widening in realization.

“I may be the prince, but there is no need to fret. Your brother will surely not let anything happen to you if anyone complains.”

The boy finally accepted the extended hand and followed Arthur back into the castle.

“What’s your name by the way?” Arthur asked. “You already presumably know mine.”

“Ludwig…”

“Nice to meet you, Ludwig.”

— — —

“The roses are particularly lush this year don’t you think?” Arthur mused, cradling one of them in his hand.

Ludwig just hummed half-heartedly, eyes trained everywhere but the rose bush.

“Sound more enthusiastic, will you? You used to love the roses almost as much as I.”

Arthur snipped the flower off, tucking it behind Ludwig’s ear.

“I’m working Arthur,” Ludwig hissed, tightening his hold on his spear.

Arthur waved his hand. “I’m the Queen, you cannot get in trouble on my watch. Plus, you’re always going above and beyond. You deserve a break.”

Fingers grazed Ludwig’s cheek. The guard only shuttered away. “I may not get in trouble, but you may. If I let my guard down for just a second, who knows–”

“Shhhhh.” Arthur lifted his finger to Ludwig’s lips. “There are other guards around. Let them worry for once love.”

“But I’m your personal guard.”

Arthur sighed, giving up the fight to sit down for his afternoon tea. Looking at the spread an idea formed.

“You know…” Arthur began, fiddling with his spoon. “These sweets and tea could very well be poisoned.”

“Why would the kitchen–”

“You of all people should know there could be double agents, enemies hiding in plain sight.” Arthur held up a lemon square to Ludwig. “Maybe you should test them for me.”

Ludwig’s eyes narrowed. Arthur knew that Ludwig knew what he was doing. Arthur just smirked.

Ludwig took a bite of the pastry. Though he tried to keep a hard look, Arthur could see the glint of joy in his eyes. Ludwig always had a weakness for sweets.

As Ludwig began to enjoy the sweets, Arthur couldn’t help but smile. He had come so far from that teary-eyed boy with the scrapes on his knees. It was now Ludwig caring for him, protecting him. And they’d grown so much closer. How times had changed.

#hetalia #gereng week #gereng week 2023 #gereng #engger #geruk #wondertalia #alice au #hws england #hws germany #fanfiction #hetalia fanfiction #my writing

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abcd-em · 2 months

Note

9, 17, 33, 34 🦦

9. How do you find new fic to read?

Sometimes I'll ask for recs, sometimes I will just jump into the tag dry, sometimes I pick an author I've enjoyed recently and if I haven't already, scan through their entire works, if I have then I go to their bookmarks.

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?

Touches hand to the glass, staring out longingly to the sea; immortal Peter & reaper MJ inspired specifically by the system in Afterlove.

I've done a one shot but I want the full shebang!! I want the pain!!!

33. If you write chaptered fics, what’s your ideal chapter length to write? Is it different from your ideal chapter length to read?

My ideal to read is probably between 20-30. I love all the words, give them to me, I love living in a fic.

(I have read longer fics and I love those too, but I do approach anything longer than 30 chapters with a bit more caution.)

My ideal to write is probably 11 chapters ignore that almost all of my fics have exceeded this lately.

Double digits is usually where I end up losing steam for a little bit.

34. What aspects of your writing are inspired by/taken from your real life?

There's a lot of bits and pieces. I've had a few people say parts of my writing is realistic and there's good reason for that. From grief to break-ups to confusion over careers, I went through it so why not use it 😌

Ask me things!

#em answers

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youngster-monster · 7 months

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fic is fic especially when the fandom for it is teeny tiny or otherwise just doesnt have a lot of avid ficwriters in it so i cant be picky!! ill read and bookmark and i wont make a big fuss but i Will be seething (quietly) because even though he speaks He Would Not God Damn Say That (said while politely kudos'ing the fic)

i've never received a mean comment on my fics even though they're all from wildly different fandoms which is a blessing but i have to wonder how many of the people reading them were mad at me. imagining getting approached at the devil's sacrament and flamed as if we are not both standing here in the same place wearing our metaphorical clown shoes and big red noses

he is literally every AU of himself in one neat little package and he sucks so bad. the world isnt ready for him but ive decided that you are

my identity will return. POSTHASTE. you are GOING to hear from me because im going to beat the anxiety out of myself with bricks if i have to

tragically i am prone to rarepairs. in every fandom i have at least 2 rarepairs that have anywhere between 0 fics and 20 fics and on a rare occasion i get into a fandom that hasn't even got a single fic for it on any fanfic site and though it would be my pleasure to change that myself, my crippling writers block has prevented me from finishing, uhm (looks into my google docs) ....at least 12 different fics. CURSE YOU, ME

ahem. i bring Intel (the information about my bad bad man of an oc) and i will be returning from the war with my identity intact and,

all of us spiderman pointing at each other at the devil's sacrament (we are being very polite and nice even when we massively disagree with an author's take because fanfiction is a hobby and a gift we are giving one another for free and it's not disco to flame or give unrequested criticism)

it's okay anon i don't bite. maybe someone will eventually because they're tired of seeing our very public courting in the form of asks but that's their problem. in the meantime i am staring longingly out the window waiting for the sea to bring you back to me

#ask #anonymous #the few people who follow this blog and are patiently scrolling past these ask replies without saying anything my beloved #waving my glowsticks. go anon go beat the writers block

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the-wardens-torch · 8 months

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FFXIVwrite2023 - Clear

FFXIVwrite2023 - Prompt #14, entry #7

((After Off the Hook and Once Bitten, in that order.))

The heart of the matter is the coffin card, which speaks of something about to end. This is not a bad card, as things often end to make way for the new--to be reborn, or such. As for the rest of the reading…

"A legacy of old will soon end to make way for the new." "The legacy will bring about the end of the former bearer." "However, it will bring about this timeless gift to you."

She had couched her explanation in a warning that her clients sometimes became even more puzzled after her readings than they were before. But Fal knew from experience that Reo was ever the type to sell herself short. Like the best of seers, she possessed a great intuition, but it was often undermined by her humility. He was 100% certain there was truth in her words, but at the moment he felt too dense to find it. He understood as clearly as mud, so to speak.

Which is why he'd decided he needed to seek his father Uther's counsel. A decision he was only slightly regretting now that he was seated on a hard wooden chair in a gloomy study. He watched his father stalk the bookshelves that constituted his only decor until he found a suitably ominous-looking volume.

"It shall be nice to teach you something without you telling me where I can stick my books." he said dryly as he turned back towards his son.

Falerin remained silent. He was suddenly grateful that his father forgave easily. Well, not "forgave" so much as "didn't care all that much in the first place." The man was too detached for hurt feelings and too practical for pettiness.

"So you dream of a dragon? Stabbed through the eye with a hooked spear by a strangely dressed man with a skull-face?" it had been more of a statement than a question.

"Yes. and I'm the dragon. But also... looking at the dragon somehow. Its been bugging me for weeks."

Seemingly hearing the word "bug," Fal's tiny, seldom-seen familiar Ruby hid herself further in the hood of his robe. When he looked up, Uther was staring at the exact wrinkle of cloth where she was hiding herself, almost longingly. But within a second he seemed to snap out of it, crossing the room towards Fal, holding the book in his hands. It was bound in red and silver and nearly three ilms thick, and Fal couldn't see the pages from this angle. What he could see, however, was a veritable thicket of notes that served as bookmarks. Spreading his long fingers spider-like, Uther gently plucked one, opening the book to the corresponding page.

"Bahamut. The Dawn Wyrm. Of the First Brood sired by Midgardsormr. Killed in Meracydia and resurrected as an imperfect primal, then imprisoned by the flamboyant and brilliant Allagan technologist Amon."

Not waiting for his son to respond, he placed the book on the table and turned it to face him.

Falerin suddenly felt as if the bulk of his consciousness had drained into his feet. What he was seeing seemed to displace his mind straight out of his head, like a too-big rock being dropped into a too-small pond.

The page before him contained only a single charcoal sketch that somehow, in its roughness, portrayed each detail all the more clearly.

A man in a skull-like mask, clad in a variety of incongruous fabrics. And in his hand, a long, cruelly hooked piece of metal.

((Sped through this one much faster than I would have liked… Hopefully I can continue it with the next prompt somehow. I'm starting to think of these as sketches/outlines for some writing I'll take a bit more time with in the future. Thanks a third time to @adeat for Reo. He had her do a Lenormand card reading for Fal, and I'm trying to tailor the story to it because I think its neat!))

#ffxivwrite2023

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jimmyneutron877 · 2 years

Text

A/N: This was a request on my Wattpad book that I published a few hours ago over there, but I thought I should try to upload the chapters here for a little experiment.

I hope you enjoy and requests are always open here and on my Wattpad!

♡

It was around 11:00pm and you were just sitting on the couch comfortably reading a book, it was complete silence except for the clock ticking and the occasional nightly bustle of Piltover.

However your serenity was soon cut short when you heard the door downstairs thunder open and then slam shut. You jumped at this, instantly knowing she'd had a bad day. You put a bookmark in the pages you were reading and placed your book on the table. Making your way down the stairs you could hear Caitlyn dropping her stuff on the floor with an exasperated, exhausted sigh.

"Hey Baby" You walked over to her and wrapped your arms around her a waist and your head tucked under her chin "Are you okay?"

She enveloped you into a warm hug in return and rocked you gently.

"Hi Love, no I'm not doing that good, I didn't have the best day, people are just" She sighed into you hair "annoying" she finished with a chuckle.

"I know, trust me, but you're home now, did you eat?" You questioned her gently.

"Yeah I did, I hope you don't mind, have you?" She looked down at you with worried eyes.

"Yes, I did don't worry, I just had leftovers but you can take them to work tomorrow instead" you patted her hips and separated your hug.

"You should go have a shower and get ready for bed Cait"

It wasn't really a question, more like instructions, she nodded and you watched her disappear up the stairs into the bathroom while you hung her bag and hood up on a hook and slowly made your way upstairs. You laid down on your side of the bed and watched the door to the bathroom longingly, waiting for it to open.

When you finally saw the knob twist you started smiling and got all giddy and nervous. It reminded you of your first date with her, just feeling nervous yet excited. The door opened revealing her with a tired yet content expression and her beautiful deep blue damp hair.

"You look so cute Cait" you remarked and she got very flustered at this "Come and join me" You added patting the space on the bed.

She sauntered over and smirked down at you while laying down, propping her head up on her arm. You gazed into her reflective sapphire eyes and moved your hands to cup her jaw, bringing her down into a passionate, loving kiss.

When you two pulled away you both just stared into each other's eyes.

"I love you so much Y/N you have no idea" Caitlyn whispered and stroked your cheek gently.

"I love you too Caitlyn, just relax and sleep with me now" She adjusted herself to lay down completely, wrapping her arms around your middle and nuzzling her face into your chest.

You cradled her head against you and felt her warm breaths slow on your skin.

"Thank you Y/N" You heard her slightly murmur under her breath.

With a kiss on the head you both drifted to sleep in each other's arms.

♡

#arcane #arcane x reader #fanfiction #x reader #arcane oneshot #wattpad #caitlyn kiramman #fanfic #caitlyn x reader #writers on tumblr #tumblr post #reposts are appreciated #requests are open #i love you

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rantsintechnicolor · 2 years

Text

in the bookstore

It's a strange feeling when you recognize a place you have never seen before in person. It seemed like a lucky day when I happened upon a bookstore I was following on Instagram. Why was I following a bookstore I didn't think I would ever visit? Why was I following a bookstore that had no cats? Probably because Charlie Jane Anders is a goddess.

No cats, but it was dog-themed, sort of. It is called Dog-Eared Books. It's on a corner in the Mission District of San Francisco, the lower level of a Victorian style building with apartments above. (And I wonder if someone has written a novel of someone living in an apartment above a bookstore, but maybe it was a movie. Was it the first lesbian movie I saw, Better Than Chocolate? Did she just work at that bookstore or also live above it? Maybe the movie was based on a book...)

Normally, I would walk right by. Normally, I have no money and I have no room in my small library. But there are a few books I feel I need to have in the tasting room library, and I should pop in and see if they are available. And at that moment, there was no where I need to be.

The shop is in great contrast to three blocks east, where it is chaos and grime and pain and poverty. It is neat and clean and orderly and all the books look new, and likely arrived in the bookstore unattached to any crime. The sections are heralded by sharpie written on cardboard, like the panhandler with a sign on Octavia Blvd with the scrawl, "HIRE ME". So much light comes from the front windows and the windows lining the high ceiling. Bright and cheerful and, yes, slightly dog-eared. I thought of how the big box bookstores cannot embody the charm of this place, with its history and haunted books and long-haired clerks. I wonder if all the clerks are budding writers, or have a podcast about books. I thought of how much I missed Leon's Books in the town where I went to college, how it's a hair salon now. They kept cockatiels and parakeets that would titter cheerfully while you browsed the shelves.

It's pretty crowded for a Tuesday, but it is after 5pm. I wonder how many people just stopped by on a whim like me. I wait patiently for people to move, so I can follow or pass them by, making sure we all have our space. Most of the patrons are masked, which is good, because there is another surge of covid infections.

I find myself surprisingly overwhelmed though it is calm and quiet. My mind is racing with all the things I want, all the authors I love. I could easily assemble a pile, but I talk myself out of most before I reach for their spines. I haven't read that yet, am I sure I want it on my very selective shelf? Is this book on-brand for the tasting room? I should probably have this book there for representation, but is it the best one? Oh, look, Edgar Allen Poe. W was just asking me if I remember The Mask of the Red Death. And I thought of all my book loving friends. My new friend, K. I thought of Hal. And IMG. And I thought I should put this one book back, but definitely buy these two to support this little neighborhood gem. I stared longingly at the Miyazaki movie book with Totoro on the cover. I thought maybe I should buy their only copy of Blood Child by Octavia Butler, an author that continues to blow my mind with her writing. But I don't. I've already bought it once. I should probably have a list with me, so I'm more focused the next time I happen across a used bookstore, because I'm sure there is something special I'm leaving behind.

I wonder if anyone else experiences bookstores this way...

"Would you like a bookmark?" the clerk asks me. It seems likes like you have to call the person working in a bookshop a clerk. I wonder what they like to be called.

"Um," I say. "Okay."

"I don't mean to pressure you," he teases me.

"I don't feel pressured," I laugh. And I wonder if it's a shtick, like, you could have this bookmark... or you could just dog-ear the page.

#bookstores #books #creative writing #writing #mission district #san francisco

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psychedellic-phase · 4 years

Text

Fifteen (pt 5)

A/N: I had a little mental block when trying write this one! I think it worked out in the end but better is coming ! I promise. Enjoyy :)

masterlist

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

Word count: 3.4k

tw: none, fluff :)

Spencer didn’t dream about you. When he woke up, he was sweaty and disoriented and had no recollection of the dreams he had. He fell asleep next to the box fully clothed, his arm thrown across where you should have been. In those first few moments of morning when you aren’t quite sure where you are or who you are, he reached around for you and found nothing but emptiness.

‘Emptiness? No that can’t be right. She was right here.’

Just as he thought it, the truth occurred to him.

‘She was never here. Just the box. Wait, the box. Where is the box?’

He shot up quickly, getting a little dizzy, and frantically looked around the room. He saw that he had knocked the box over while he slept and the contents were scattered all over the floor. He groaned and went to pick everything up. His hands found all the items and he put them away carefully, not peeking. He didn’t want to ruin the surprise. When everything was put back where it belonged, he sighed and sat on his bed, staring longingly out the window.

It was barely 6 am and the sun had risen, but he couldn’t see it behind the thick gray clouds that lined the sky. It was snowing. Not a rare thing to see in Virginia, but it was very appropriate for this day. You loved snow, wintertime, the holidays, all of it. You even tried to get him to go skiing with you a few times, which he refused to do. He is extremely clumsy in nature and would definitely hurt himself or someone else if he tried. It’s a miracle they even let him carry a gun. Besides, he’s more suited to drinking hot cocoa in the lodge by a fire. The cold is much less forgiving to him. Growing up in Vegas made him partial to the heat. Even though he had lived on the East coast for many years, he’d still complain anytime the temperature dropped below 40 and bundle up in a wool coat and scarf. Your New England roots on the other hand, taught you to handle the cold much better. When he’d complain about being freezing, you would tell him that he had no idea what real cold was like, and when you would complain about the heat he’d return the sentiment.

He left the box on the bed and took a shower. He needed to wash everything from the last day off. It was therapeutic to just stand in the hot water and let it burn slightly, reminding him he could still feel. This had been so emotionally draining; he could barely remember the last time he cried so much. Today he just felt numb, barely bothering to put on more than sweatpants, but somehow mustering up enough energy to make a pot of coffee. He had a feeling he’d need the whole thing to get through the next twelve letters. Each one felt heavier in his hands than the previous did, and each cut a little deeper too. With a cup of coffee in hand, he fished around for envelope #4.

“Spence, this next one is special. You’ll know why the second you pick it up. #4: The Book of Margery Kempe.”

He smiled and ran his hands over the book, his mother’s favorite. The spine was bent like it’d been cracked open many times, and the pages were worn and well read. He could tell it was your personal copy because of the dog-eared pages. You always did that, making him grimace every time you creased the corner of a page.

“You could just use a bookmark, Y/N,” He’d say, earning an eye roll from you.

“A book should look like it’s been read, that’s why I buy paperbacks and write in them! I want anyone who picks up something I’ve read to feel how much I loved it, that way they love it too.”

That comment always made him smile, “Fine, just don’t do it to any of my books.”

“Don’t worry Dr. Reid, I only do it to my personal collection.”

The memory felt warm and inviting, but ended quickly. Instead, he grabbed the book, the letter, and his coffee and sat at the chess table he had pushed against a window. He wanted to see the snow while he read, just to feel closer to you.

“I bought for our flight to Vegas, the trip where I met your mother for the first time. You mentioned Kempe was her favorite, and I so badly wanted to impress her. I know she’s...well she’s her. But you’re her pride and joy, Spence, I didn’t want to disappoint her. Or disappoint you for that matter. Remember when you asked?

“I’d like you to come with me next week,” You said over an IHOP pancake breakfast.

“To Vegas?”

You nodded, “Yeah I’d love if you came with me. You could see my hometown.”

“I’ve been to Vegas, Love.”

I know it seemed like I didn’t want to go, that isn’t the case. I did want to go. I wanted to go so bad, but I was hesitant. I was so terrified that I would mess up. I didn’t want to ruin us, we’d been doing so well. I felt like this would be a defining moment in our relationship (spoiler alert: it was) and I didn’t want to risk it going poorly.

“Yeah on cases! And that is not the impression of Vegas I want you to have. C’mon please? It would mean the world to my mom.”

I think I choked on my pancake, “Your mom? She knows about me?”

“Of course she does, I write her letters all the time.”

“Your mom knows about us, and you want me to meet her?”

You smiled and nodded, “Yeah Y/N, how many times do I have to say it? I want you to meet my mom.”

That’s probably when I tackled you in a hug in the middle of an IHOP. That solidified the fact that you trusted me. I knew you trusted me at work, but the fact that you were willing to show me that side of you, the side you don’t really show anyone? I can’t thank you enough for it.

We’d been together just over six months, which to most people that seems like a long time to wait to meet the parents, especially when we were already so serious, but your situation is different. I wanted you to do it in your own time.

My family on the other hand, you met them pretty early into us dating. My niece turned one a few months into us being together and I dragged you to Connecticut for the party. Everyone loved you, of course they did. There isn’t one thing to not love about you. Nate and my dad were definitely not thrilled that I was bringing you. Nate tries to be all Big Brother-y but it’s all an act, he’s a softie. And dad would rather I marry a rich man and be a stay at home mom. I can hear him now saying, “Y/N if your mother were here to see you thirty and unwed she would be so disappointed !” Dads. They’re the worst, but I don’t have to tell you that.”

For some reason that made him chuckle, having rough/nonexistent relationships with your fathers was just another item on the long list of things you had in common. On paper, you were a perfect match. But that was the only place.

“But somehow, you didn’t have to wear them down, they just loved you instantly. Even Mia loved you, and she was one! You handed her toys and helped her put on her shoes. You talked to my dad about whatever he had on the History channel. It was perfect. You fit right in with us; it was like you completed us, you were the missing piece that we didn’t even know we needed. I know Mia will miss you; you were always so good with her. I think we’ll all miss you. And my dad is going to hate that I will not be married off any time soon, but he can deal with that.

But back to your mom. To say I was nervous to meet her is probably the biggest understatement of all time. The way you love and care about her is one of the many reasons I fell in love with you. The way a guy treats his mom says a lot about how he’ll treat you, and with you it said ‘oh my god he’s perfect’. You do everything you can for her, even though it’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do. I admire that; I can only wish to be that kind and giving.

We both took a few days off to go see her, and when we were in the airport I pulled out this book and tried to read it.

“That’s mom’s favorite,” You said, smiling at me shyly.

“I know.”

The plane was delayed due to a storm. We sat waiting and waiting for a few hours, your hand on my thigh and my head on your shoulder as I desperately tried to read this book. I really did. I stumbled through about 50 pages but had retained literally nothing. I found myself rereading sentences like ten times over and trying to decode them. I felt embarrassed about it. You could read the whole thing with your morning coffee and immediately recite it forwards and backwards, and translate it into Korean and Russian flawlessly and there I was, sounding out every word. It’s not like I can’t read. I can read, I just can’t read and comprehend 1500s English very well. Science was always my strong suit.

I didn’t get much farther on the plane ride either. You, on the other hand, brought a whole library in your carry on and on that 5 hour plane ride you read two thick books, took an hour long nap, played solitaire (twice), won war against me (twice), and ate all the snacks I brought for you. And in that same time frame, I had gotten through maybe half of the book, taking very long breaks to stare out the window, talk to you, and try to sleep.

“What part are you at?” You asked me at one point and I just kind of stared at you.

“Uh, the uh, part where she’s going to Jerusalem?”

You chuckled, “That’s not very far.”

I shoved you playfully, “Hey! It’s confusing and hard to understand!”

You reached for the book, trying to take it from me, “Let me see.”

I moved it out of reach, “No! I need to figure it out on my own.” You smiled and let me keep trudging along.

When you woke up from your nap your head was on my shoulder and I was running my fingers through your hair like I usually do did when you slept.

“You don’t have to read it, Y/N,” you mumbled, your voice groggy with sleep. It’s always raspy when you first wake up.

“I know, I just thought maybe I would impress her.”

You smiled and leaned over and kissed my cheek, “I love that, but don’t worry. I promise she’ll love you.”

Then you nuzzled into the crook of my neck and fell back asleep. I put my head on top of yours, closed the book, and allowed myself to do the same.

When we landed, it was hot. Like, ungodly hot. No wonder you can't stand the cold.

We first went to the hotel and I changed into more appropriate clothes for the weather. You somehow still had on slacks and a shirt, I don’t know how you didn’t sweat to death. I drove us to the sanitarium, and you were nervous, you barely even spoke. You were twiddling with your fingers and bouncing your leg, I didn’t have to use my profiling skills to figure it out. The radio was off and you stared out the window.

“How long has it been?” I finally said.

“Three hundred and six days.”

I just nodded, your nerves added onto mine tenfold and I thought I may faint. I got us there safely though.

“You stay here, I’m going to see if it’s a good day. If not we’ll come tomorrow,” You said.

I just nodded and leaned over to kiss you. It took way longer than I thought it would for you to come out and when you did you were smiling. Huge.

“Good day?” I asked, hopping out of the car. You just nodded, still grinning ear-to-ear. You grabbed my hand and every nerve I had melted away. You always had that effect on me, even when we were just friends. No one will ever get me in the same way again. Even if they tried, I wouldn’t let them. You were it for me”

Spencer reached for the mug to take another sip and found it was already empty. He stared into the bottom of the mug where some sugar hadn’t dissolved and mulled over that last sentence.

You were it for me.

He put the mug down forcefully, knocking a few chess pieces over.

So then why wouldn’t you LET him be it for you?

“You led me to her, pulling me behind you, whispering reassurances to me the entire time.

“Mom, this is Y/N, Y/N this is my mother.”

I came out from behind you, probably looking like a meek little mouse, “Hello.” I waved.

“Now Spencer, you didn’t tell me she was pretty.”

You blushed and stammered, she chuckled, “It’s nice to finally meet you Y/N. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Likewise,” I said, and shook her hand. It was warm and soft like yours. In fact, so much of her is in you. You don’t look the same, but your mannerisms are pretty close to identical. Her hair is lighter than yours but equally as wild. I love her, because she’s you. So many parts of you, the best parts of you. She made you, and I love you, so I love her too.

You let us talk alone for a while and she told me about your childhood. How she called you ‘crash’ because you were always running into something. How you were always the smartest kid around and how she was so proud to be your mom. She told me about the letters you send her, much like the one I’m writing right now. You told her about all our adventures, nights crying over Emily, the film festival, Jacksonville (PG version of course); you told her all of it. Your mom had your version of our love story hidden in letters somewhere in her room. That inspired me to write my version, the version you’re reading right now.

She told me she knew we were together before you even told her because all your letters became about me. All the case stories had me and you as the stars, everyone else falling into the background. Hearing how you talked to her about me made my insides feel all fuzzy. You told her I was intelligent, courageous, empathetic, funny, and pretty much every other positive adjective you could find.

“I’ve never heard him talk about anyone the way he talks about you,” she told me, “He definitely cares about you.”

I smiled, “I’ve never cared about anyone as much as I care about him.”

“So you love him?”

I was taken aback at first, and paused for a moment to think, “Yeah, I do.”

It’s a weird thing to say to your boyfriend’s mom the first time you meet her, but she’s just so easy to talk to. It’s double weird because I hadn’t even told you that I loved you yet. I was being honest, I never loved anyone the way I loved you.

“I couldn’t ask for anything more for him.”

Then I hugged her awkwardly and you came back in. I was trying and failing to suppress the smile on my face the whole time. The three of us talked until visiting hours were over. We left her with the promise that we’d be back again tomorrow.

“I was right Y/N, she loves you!” You said as we climbed back into the rental.

“She’s pretty great,” I said and held your face in my hand, “So are you.”

Tomorrow never came.

The next day was a bad one for her, so you took me to the neighborhood you grew up in, pointing out the sites you wanted me to see and telling me the memories you had there. You took me to get chicken fried lobster at Binion’s. You held my hand as we walked down the Las Vegas strip, pointing out the ones you’re banned from. On the last day, we ordered room service and spent all day in bed, not bothering to get dressed. I loved learning about your past. At the time I anticipated being part of your whole future; I would be in every story for the rest of your life. I hate that now I’m just another chapter of it.

On the flight home I cracked open the book again and this time I read it with newfound vigor. I had a new appreciation for it after talking to your mom. You watched me flip through it, highlighting and annotating like I was in English class. You peered over my shoulder the whole time, and don’t think I didn’t see the smirk on your face.

“When her crying passed, she came before the Archbishop and fell down on her knees, the Archbishop saying very roughly to her, “Why do you weep so, woman?” I read aloud, looking up into your warm eyes as we descended.

“She answering said, ‘Sir, you shall wish some day that you had wept as sorely as I,’” you finished, not even having to look at the page.

You have wept as sorely as I, Spencer, and I do not wish this feeling on anyone.

I closed the book and held it to my chest, staring at you and mustering up the nerve to say it.

“I love you,” I whispered, just loud enough for you to hear.

You tried to contain your grin and scrunched up your eyebrows. You cupped your ear and pretended you couldn’t hear me, “What was that?”

I rolled my eyes, “I love you.” I said it louder, more forcefully this time.

“I love you too,” you said, no hesitation.

I turned my head up to catch your lips and seal the whole weekend with a kiss.

It’s kind of funny how I confessed my love for you up in the sky, among the clouds, somewhere over Virginia. It’s funny because I was on cloud nine, almost literally. It felt so good to finally say it. We were in love, arguably the most magical thing in the world. There is no one I would rather have experienced that with than you, Spence. And no one I will ever experience it with again.

Your mother and I write to each other sometimes. Like remember when she went to the Grand Canyon? She may have sent you the Grand Canyon, but she sent me a turquoise necklace, which I will be keeping. She wrote to me once in the last few weeks since we broke up. I can’t answer. I can’t send her any more letters, it doesn’t feel right; it’s no longer my place.

So next time you visit her, show her this. I hope she doesn’t mind that I wrote in parts of it, maybe someday I’ll be able to find it in myself to write to her again and she can tell me what I missed or got wrong. Give her a hug for me Spence, and tell her I’m sorry, I wish I could come in person to tell her, but I can’t. Tell her I already miss her. I know how happy she was for us, how excited she was about... well everything. How excited we all were. Tell her I’m sorry that I couldn’t do it. Thank her for making you who you are, the most amazing man alive. Tell her it’s been a privilege, because it has been. I mean that.”

Spencer cracked open the book and admired your dog-eared pages and highlighted bits, reading your annotations and rough translations of old English to modern English. He sighed and slid his fingers down the pages. His chest tightened as if he should cry, but no tears could fall anymore. Instead, he stood up and put the book on a shelf, where one day he’d read it again to remember that weekend. To remember you. He walked slowly back to the kitchen, filled his mug again and went to find the box.

(part 6)

tags! (if you would like to be added just let me know!): @l0ve-0f-my-life @aperrywilliams @helloniallslovelies @random-ravings @ajwantsapancake @boiled-onionrings @andiebeaword @frnks-stuff

#spencer reid #spencer x you #spencer reid fic #spencer #spencer reid smut #reid #reid x you #mgg #mgg fanfiction #criminal minds #cm #dr spencer reid #spencer reid self insert

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o-foramuse-of-fire · 3 years

Text

Happy New Year! Here is my Secret Santa gift for @ubilupus! I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Alice Brandon has a massive crush on law student Jasper Whitlock. The only problem? She’s never actually spoken to him out loud. AH/AU

Title: Apricity

Words: 3,450

Rating: G/K+

Read on: AO3 or FFN

The snow fell in feather-light flakes in the crisp winter air. Alice chewed her lip as she gazed at the historic building across the street, almost mystical in the snowfall. She walked back and forth by the bus stop, hesitating to cross the street. A dark blue bus pulled up to the stop, its sign flashing yellow. Several students descended and the driver waited to see if Alice would board. She shook her head, shaking flakes out of her pixie-cut. The driver shrugged, closed the door, and drove off.

“What are you doing?”

Alice jumped at the voice. Sharp yet sweet, like a slice of key lime pie, with just a hint of caramel smoothness. She turned and plastered a huge smile on her face.

“Oh, hey, Rosalie!”

Rosalie Hale was one of Alice’s closest friends. The two had met freshman year signing up to assist with one of the many student theatre groups on campus. Rosalie, a Business major, wanted to get involved in marketing and Alice, who was studying Art and Design, was interested in assisting with designing posters or helping to paint sets.

“Don’t ‘hey, Rosalie,” me,” Rosalie retorted. “This is the third time this week I’ve caught you loitering out by the Law Quad.”

“Is it?”

“C’mon, Alice, something’s going on with you. And don’t just say you’re trying to plan out where to take grad photos because I know it’s something more than that.”

Alice quickly shut her mouth. That had been the excuse she was about to give. Everyone knew the Law Quad was in high demand for graduating seniors. In a few months, once the majority of winter was behind them and the temperature rose above freezing, Alice knew there’d be people crowding for the perfect cap and gown shot.

But that wasn’t the reason she’d spent more hours than she could count recently, wrapped up in her warmest--yet still fashionable--winter clothes and staring longingly at the gray stone arches. Alice heaved a sigh, her breath forming a tiny cloud in the wintry air.

“Okay. Fine. C’mon.”

Alice adjusted the strap of her cross-body bag and swung her scarf over her shoulder before leading Rosalie across the street. The two of them wandered into the Law Quad, looking more like Hogwarts at Christmas than it had any right to. Snow dusted the tops of the stone towers and turrets and coated the rooftops. Icicles hung from the mature trees like crystals. Students meandered through the Quad, ducking in and out of the grand arches, crossing pathways lined by Victorian-style street lamps. When they reached the door to the Law Library, Alice hesitated.

“Just don’t get me kicked out, okay?” The Law Library was notorious for having a strict no-talking policy.

“I won’t make a peep,” Rosalie said, her ruby lips curling into an intrigued grin.

They walked into the Reading Room, and no matter how many times Alice stepped foot inside there, she was always struck by its grandiose beauty and ambiance. The room was large and open, with a 10 story ceiling surrounded by beautiful stained glass windows bearing the seals of great universities around the world. The ceiling itself was intricately designed with squares of floral-like designs sculpted in gold. The Reading Room was illuminated with soft light from elegant two-tiered chandeliers, stylized to look like candles. Wooden shelves filled with legal books lined the long hall, interspersed with elaborate doorways and stonework. With finals fast approaching, students from all across campus crowded the oversized tables with curved reading lights, their books and notes stacked high. Anxious, academic energy crackled in the air. Alice walked down the aisle, Rosalie trailing at her side, until she came upon the third table from the back on the left. There, like he had been every day this week, sat a god.

A golden-haired young man with storm cloud eyes. Sculpted cheekbones and lips that Alice just knew were soft and kissable. A few strands of curly blond hair fell in front of his face as he pored over a thick tome, and the man pushed them out of his way with a flick of his long fingers. He was dressed in a knitted black sweater that complemented his tanned skin and accentuated his lean figure. His long legs were stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles.

Alice delicately pulled out the chair across from him, and slid into it as silently as she could manage. As she sat down, the man looked up from his book. His face lit up, eyes sparkling and lips stretching into a heart-stopping smile. Alice’s heart fluttered, and she returned his smile with an uncharacteristically shy grin. She opened up her bag and pulled out the textbook she kept in there for this exact purpose. She flipped through the pages until she came across the midnight blue bookmark denoting the last chapter she’d attempted to slog through. But before she could even attempt to read the first sentence, a crumpled piece of paper landed in front of her. Alice opened the note with excited fingers, her eyes eager for the words scrawled inside.

Art history again?

Alice’s mouth twitched. She scribbled a response on the paper, folded it up neatly, and passed it back across the table.

Yeah. My last final. I’ve been really slacking on the reading.

Maybe you know more than you think. You’ve been reading that book every time you’ve been in here.

Alice bit her lip. Had she done that? She’d meant to rotate her books, her excuses to be in his presence.

I keep getting distracted by the architecture. It’s just so beautiful in here.

It is. But if it keeps pulling your focus away from your studying, maybe you should try one of the less decorated spots on campus. Like Starbucks.

He shot her a smirk as he watched her read his words.

Never. I like the view here too much.

Me too.

Rosalie surreptitiously watched the exchange from a table across the aisle, quirking an eyebrow when Alice flushed scarlet and covered her mouth to hold in a giggle. She narrowed her eyes further as the note passing spanned a whole page. Then a second. Then a third. She didn’t think either of the two had touched their books in a while. Pursing her lips, Rosalie rose to her feet and sauntered back over to Alice’s table. Alice didn’t even notice her approach, she was too engrossed in whatever she was writing. Rosalie tapped her on the shoulder and crossed her arms. Alice gave her a sheepish grin, hurriedly wrote one final message, and passed the note to the blond-haired guy. He glanced it over, and the good-natured smile seemingly glued to his face fell ever so slightly. He gave Alice a wave as she stood, returned her book to her bag, and hoisted it over her shoulder. Alice returned his wave with her own, then tripped over her feet as Rosalie grabbed her by the elbow and dragged her to the exit.

As soon as they were back outside, Rosalie spun on Alice.

“Okay, spill. Who was that guy?”

Alice’s voice took on a dreamy tone. “Jasper Whitlock, first year law student. He’s originally from Texas and he went to Rice, majored in Political Science and History. He’s got a younger brother who’s studying Engineering at Rice now, and a little sister who’s in her senior year of high school. He likes horseback riding, Mexican food, and horror movies.”

“Wow, Alice, did you stalk the guy?”

A rosy blush colored Alice’s cheeks. “No. We passed notes. And then I Facebook stalked him.”

Rosalie snorted. “You’re crushing on him hard.”

“Except I haven’t said a word to him!” Alice cried, dragging her hands over her face. “I came to the Law Library to sketch last week--you know how I feel about Gothic architecture--and he was just there! Sitting at that table all gorgeous and studious. I don’t know how I worked up the nerve to pass him that first note, I swear my hands were shaking the whole time. But I’ve never actually spoken with him, like, words out loud, you know?”

“And he’s never tried to follow you out of the library to actually speak with you?”

“Nope.”

“Hm. He loses a few points for that. But maybe he’s just shy.”

“How could anyone that looks like that be shy? He probably just doesn’t like me.”

“Oh, he likes you, Alice. Trust me.”

“You don’t know that.” Alice whined.

“Did you not see the look he gave you? Like you were the sun and he was a mere flower. He bloomed in your presence. And practically wilted when you left.”

“I don’t know, Rose...”

Rosalie spun on her heels to stop and face Alice. She reached down to place her perfectly manicured hands atop Alice’s shoulders.

“Alright. Here’s what we’re gonna do. Tomorrow, we’re gonna dress you up and make you look so goddamn gorgeous, that he’ll follow you outta there like a little lovesick puppy.”

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

Early the next morning--earlier than Alice would’ve liked--Rosalie was in her apartment, clucking her tongue as she parsed through Alice’s wardrobe. Alice sat on the edge of her bed, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. Rosalie had roped their friend Bella into the scheme, and the brunette was sitting next to Alice, almost as tired as she was, her head falling onto Alice’s shoulder every now and then.

“You owe me Starbucks for this,” Bella mumbled.

“Yeah, Rose,” Alice agreed. “Jasper doesn’t usually make it into the Law Library until after 11.”

“Which means we only have four hours to get you looking jaw-droppingly sexy,” answered Rosalie. She picked out a black dress that was way too short given the current temperatures, shook her head, and returned it to the closet.

“At least she’s keeping in mind the weather,” Bella muttered under her breath.

Bella was the most practical out of the three girls. She and Alice had met in their first year English class and had become fast friends. It had taken some time for Bella and Rosalie to warm up to each other--Bella had a knee-jerk response to anyone involved in a sorority. But after Rosalie had chewed out a sleaze-ball who’d attempted to run his hand up Bella’s skirt while the three were out dancing one night, the two had forged a tight bond.

“Okay, how about this,” said Rosalie as she held up two hangers. In one hand was a black pencil skirt. In the other was a silk purple blouse with a deep V-neck. It was long-sleeved with bunching at the wrist. “Some tights, your black pumps and--”

“I’ll look like a librarian,”

“A sexy librarian,” Rosalie corrected, but she returned the items to the closet.

“We’re trying to get this Jasper’s attention, right?” asked Bella.

Alice nodded.

“Well then, what do we know about him? What does he like?”

“Ooh, good idea Bella. Alice, has Jasper ever looked at you more than usual or in a different way? And what were you wearing when he did?”

“Um, not that I can remember...”

“Does he have a favorite color?” Bella offered.

Alice straightened, like a jolt of electricity had run through her body. Her eyes sparkled and she grinned with exuberance. She hopped off the bed and rushed over to her closet, pushing aside dresses and sweaters with ferocity until she found what she was looking for. She pulled the emerald green sweater dress out of the closet and held it out in front of her proudly. Though unassuming on the hanger, it clung to her body like a second skin. It had a scooped neckline, which artfully showed off her delicate collarbones, and an intricate knitted design.

“Green,” she said with a joyful smile.

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

“Girls, I don’t know if I can do this,” said Alice, clutching the front of her black peacoat with white knuckles.

“Alice, you look beautiful,” Rosalie assured her.

“Yeah, it’s going to be fine! You’ve got this!” Bella encouraged.

Once the emerald dress had been decided upon, Alice had spent the next few hours under Rosalie’s direct care. She’d picked out a pair of black leggings, as well as a pair of black booties, plus the black peacoat with silver buttons to complete the look. Bella had chosen the knitted white beret style hat that hung loosely off the back of Alice’s head, displaying her dark hair with contrast. Alice’s hair normally stuck out in all directions, but Rosalie had coaxed the energetic strands into becoming tendrils. Rosalie was an artist with makeup, and had accentuated Alice’s features without overpowering her. Black eyeliner and mascara heightened Alice’s doe-like eyes, and the silver eyeshadow shimmered with every blink. Alice’s cheekbones were highlighted and dusted with a soft pink blush. Alice had always thought her lips were small--just like the rest of her--but Rosalie had worked her magic and now the lips, painted cherry-red, appeared pouty and full. Bella had talked Alice through exactly what she was going to say to Jasper, filling her up with self-confidence. She gave advice to Alice on how to win over Jasper with her words, not just her looks.

Now, the three of them were standing in front of the entrance to the Law Library. Alice’s knees knocked together. Rosalie and Bella were on either side of her, practically pushing her in.

“You know, I think I might be coming down with something, I’ve been standing in the cold too long, maybe I should go home and we could try this another day--”

“Uh-uh, no way!” Rosalie stopped Alice from running away and turned her right back towards the Law Library. “We did not give up valuable finals studying time for you to back out now. You are going to go in there, and you are not coming back out until you have a date!”

Rosalie shoved Alice forward, causing the shorter girl to almost trip. Alice recovered and gathered herself with a determined puff of air. She brushed a stray curl out of her eyes, rolled her shoulders back, and strode into the Law Library with as much confidence as she could muster.

As expected, Jasper was there, seated at his usual spot. He was surrounded by piles of books, and hunched over a thick notebook. He looked very focused and very hot. Alice closed her eyes, thought back on everything Rosalie and Bella had said to her that morning, and began to walk towards Jasper’s table.

He heard her approach--the clicks of her black boots echoed in the silent hall--and glanced up from his notebook. At first, he gave her his usual genteel grin, but then Alice watched his eyes widen and his lips part as he took in her appearance. Alice slowly undid the buttons of her coat, feigning nonchalance as best she could. She shrugged the coat off her shoulders, and Jasper gasped. The big reveal, Rosalie had called it.

Alice slowly sunk into the chair, smoothing her dress as she sat down. Gracefully, she extracted the small notebook and ballpoint pen she’d hidden in her coat pocket. Her heart was beating a mile a minute but she forced herself to appear calm as she placed the notebook on the table, flipped open the metallic golden cover, and began to write out the words she, Rosalie, and Bella had planned.

I’ve really enjoyed our chats over the last week, but I’d much prefer to actually speak in person. I like you a lot, Jasper, and I want to get to know you better. Grab a coffee with me?

With a final flourish of her pen, Alice tore out the sheet of paper, folded it, and tossed it over to Jasper, who hadn’t taken his eyes off of her since she sat down. The note landed in the center of his notebook.

Jasper blinked dumbly at the sound of the paper hitting his book. He glanced away from Alice and nimbly unfolded the note. He smiled as he began to read it, and Alice’s heart skipped a beat. But then an odd expression came over his face. His smile fell. His jaw dropped. His eyes became pitying, disbelieving.

Alice felt her heart sink into her stomach.

He didn’t like her.

Feeling tears well up in her eyes, Alice haphazardly threw on her coat and hastily stuffed her notebook and pen back into her pockets. Biting her lip, she ran out of the Law Library as fast as she could.

She burst out into the Quad, her face stinging in the cold. Rosalie and Bella were waiting by the door for her, but she ran past them, ignoring their perplexed faces and questioning calls. She couldn’t talk to them right now. She wanted to run back home and hide under her comforter, forgetting every foolish action she’d taken today.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she muttered under her breath.

“Hey, Alice, wait!”

Alice turned as a charmingly accented voice with just a hint a twang called her name. Jasper was running after her, his unbuttoned coat flying open in the wind. Alice tried to hide her gape as she took in Jasper. She knew he was tall, but she hadn’t realized he was quite this tall. He towered over her by over a foot at least. Alice sniffed and wiped away the few tears that had fallen.

“It’s okay, Jasper, you don’t have to humor me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I saw how you looked at me in there. It’s clear you don’t like me the way that I like you. And that’s fine! I’m fine! I--”

“Alice, what?”

“--really, you don’t need to let me down easy or anything, I got it, and--”

“Alice.” Jasper’s tone became more pleading. “I was just a little taken aback, is all. You surprised me.”

Alice’s breath caught. “I...surprised you?”

The edges of Jasper’s lips turned up. “Yeah. I’ve been working up the nerve to ask you out all week and you beat me to it.”

Alice’s mouth fell open. Her brain was a mess of white noise as she attempted to process his words

“You...you like me?”

It was Jasper’s turn to blush.

“But you never...I mean...all this time...and the way you are I...” Alice stammered.

“My apologies for not speaking up sooner. But I’ve never,” Jasper hesitated, “I’ve never felt like this before. The words we shared on those scraps of paper weren’t much, but they meant everything to me. I’ve actually been coming to the Law Library every day, hoping you’d return,” he added with a bashful grin.

Alice gave a little start. He’d been doing that, too?

“I’m not good at expressing my feelings,” Jasper continued, running his fingers through his long blond locks, “but I felt a connection with you right away. I just didn’t know how to deal with it, cause it’s been so long since I’ve felt anything close to that. I’ve had some pretty messed up relationships in the past,” he said with a sheepish shrug of his shoulders.

“I don’t understand,” said Alice. “If you felt like this, why didn’t you say anything? Why did I have to do all this,” she motioned to her outfit, “to get you to come outside with me?”

“I came outside cause I could tell I’d upset you. And that ain’t right. I only ever want to see you smile.”

Alice flushed. Jasper took a slow step closer to her. Alice was struck again by his imposing stature. He had to duck and push snowy branches out of his way to get to where Alice was standing. And yet, with the way he was gazing at her, Alice didn’t feel small at all. In fact, she felt terribly emboldened by his adoring look.

“So it’s not cause I look amazingly sexy?” Alice teased.

Jasper chuckled. “You look beautiful today, really you do. But I think you look beautiful every day.”

Alice giggled, and her cheeks turned pink with new warmth. “So about that coffee,” she said, a hint of coyness slipping into her tone.

Jasper smiled sweetly. “I’d like that, ma’am.”

He took her hand, and Alice was surprised to find how well hers fit in his. Like they were made for each other, despite the height difference. Warmth raced through her body as he interlaced their fingers and gently ran his thumb over her skin. Alice hummed contentedly, and nestled into Jasper’s side. Another perfect fit.

#jalicesecretsanta20 #jalice fanfiction #jalice #my fic #twilight fanfiction #ubilupus #twilight renaissance #the twilight saga

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tiesthatbind1899 · 3 years

Text

questions for an author

i was tagged by the talented @shallow-gravy (thank u!!!!)

Name: Lila

Top 5 Fandoms Written: oh wow i WISH i’d written for 5 fandoms. but really it’s just red dead, a tiny dash of the last of us, and i’d like to get into the vampire the masquerade fandom. maybe fallout new vegas.

Top 5 Fandoms You Want To Write For/More: i guess i already sorta answered this above. but three more fandoms i’d like to write for... hm. From Dusk Till Dawn, for sure. Twin Peaks would be fun to write for, but i have no idea how i’d even go about that, tbh. & i’d love to write for the mafia franchise.

Stories You Wish More People Knew About: fanfic or original fic? well, for fanfic, anything i have bookmarked on ao3 is something i loved and wish everyone would read. for original fic, i just read this short story for class called “The Third and Final Continent” by Jhumpa Lahiri, and yeah, it’s pretty famous but also it’s just so good i want everyone in the world to experience it. i also loved “Night Road” which is a Choice of Games interactive fic about a courier vampire so yeah. I still haven’t shut up about that one.

Ship(s) Written The Most: Arthur Morgan and my oc Constance! My only ship I’ve written in years. Uh... did used to write Bella/Edward. ngl. but i’m not proud of it ok.

Character(s) Written The Most: Arthur lol.

How Many OCs Do You Have: a million! but only a few have seen the light of day and they all exist in memories of the west.

How Many Series Do You Have: just memories, right now.

What Do You Do With Fics You’re No Longer Interested In?: cry and stare at them longingly and stare at all the moodboards i made for them to try and revive my love.

Coming Soon: eventually more memories of the west. i’m also trying to write a few vtm things.

Line From A WIP:

I sleep in the red neon light of the hotel sign. When I was a kid, Grandma put up curtains to keep the light out, but the dark frightened me. In the dark, thoughts of the devil are likely to run rampant. So I never close those curtains. Better to see the devil coming.

Grandma’s certain he’s around every corner - and after all, she picked the most likely city for that to be true.

Do You Accept Prompts?: uh yeah!!! that would be cool as hell if someone asked me to write a prompt awww

How Do You Feel About Kudos?: ajdklajdlakjdkajal they’re the best

Do You Read Fic As Well?: DUH!!! there are so many talented folks in my favorite fandoms. i’m so lucky to get to read their stuff honestly :’)

i’m tagging @electriicfleur and @alwaysupatnight and @odddragon and whoever else would like to participate :)

#about me #tag game

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yanderebliss · 4 years

Note

Maybe some more of the chatter box owl

demonicpumkin you know the way to my heart

for my favorite museum curator I just had to write something more than my normal shitpost style, hopefully it ain’t too bad

and again I must ask, am I a furry for writing this? (the answer is yes I already know that)

Quiet nights were commonplace on the island. After all the residents had fallen asleep, the only sound was the buzzing of fireflies as they flew around the sky like shooting stars.

The creak of a door shattered the silence and the feathers which cocooned Blathers stood ruffled with fear. Hearing your peaceful snoring in the other room, he sighed in relief. Closing the door behind him, this time being more mindful of the sound, the owl basked in your scent which filled the home.

Wide eyes scanned every corner of the room, taking in every detail of the area, from the small amount of dust under the sofa to the lily plant which was recently watered (which made sense, your favorite flower was lilies). The book on the table had a bookmark - you were probably reading it right before you went to bed. Blathers would have to get that same book tonight if he wanted to discuss it with you tomorrow.

Simply being in the place you called home made him dizzy with euphoria, the ends of his wings tingling delightfully. He could revel in your glory for a lifetime and this feeling would never get old. As tempted as Blathers was to stay in your glorious main room and continue to search for anything new he could learn about someone as magnificent as you, he knew the true prize was resting on your writing desk (underneath the three plaque he had given you, he was happy to notice).

Your room was covered in clothing haphazardly scattered about and Blathers trembled at the thought of you undressing, slowly and teasingly revealing yourself to him wide and greedy eyes. The finest specimen he’s ever been blessed enough to look upon.

Nestled in the corner was your bed, a soft shade of your favorite color on the sheets that you were burrowed in. A blush graced his cheeks as he longingly stared at your covered figure. He could stare at you all night. Like one of the statues in his museum, you were unearthly in your beauty - delicate yet striking. Blathers was the first to admit, you have invaded his mind and conquered his heart. What he wouldn’t do to do the same thing to you.

On your desk was your diary, open to the last entry you had written. Peering down at the page, he greedily read the newest entry in your doctrine. Every detail that another might call inconsequential he memorized - your morning gardening routine, the following search for fossils (which you then promptly bring to him), it was all important to him. He never wanted to mess up, not for you. You deserved someone who loved you enough to know everything about you - and Blathers knew that was him.

to lazy to proof read so oop

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sakura-blossom28 · 4 years

Text

Modern Day Romance

Chapter 4

This was super fun to write! Happy with how it turned out. Please let me know what you think! Don’t own Naruto

Ch 1 / Ch 2 / Ch 3

A date. Easy enough, Gaara thought to himself as he was getting ready for bed. Today was Wednesday and his date with Sakura was on Saturday, plenty of time to come up with something she’d like. Just not dinner. He could manage that. Dinner was boring anyway. This was the first girl he really connected with if he based it off of how much they had been talking to each other. Sure he was a bit hesitant, but she was slowly becoming his favorite part of the day.

They were both pretty busy during the day, but they managed to make it work. Without fail, always sent a good morning text that he returned and he found a silly picture from her by lunchtime. The jokes in the pictures were always pretty lame, but he felt this matched Sakura’s own sense of humor. When both their days were over, they would text non-stop until one of them fell asleep. They would talk about their day and Gaara always enjoyed hearing about Sakura’s patients and how ridiculous their claims of pain were. She typed like how he assumed she spoke so she was always expressive in her messages.

When they weren’t talking about work, Gaara had looked up different talking points on how to get to know someone. Sakura seemed impressed with the type of questions he asked her. That page of questions was currently bookmarked to his browser in case he needed it. They were slowly making a routine of talking and Gaara was greatly enjoying it. Sakura was filled with all different kinds of opinions and genuinely seemed interested in his own opinions and really getting to know him. She had a great interest in his siblings and always asked questions about them. Gaara wanted to tell her more but held back about how they actually grew up. Hopefully, in the future, Gaara would be able to tell her about his past.

Sakura was definitely different from any girl he had met or spoken to so he really needed to impress her from the start. She had opened up a bit about her own dating past and her ex’s really set the bar low for him. He tried his best not to pry and go into work mode, but he could sense that she wanted to talk about it. He really wanted to make up for all the lackluster relationships she’d been in, but didn’t want to come on too strong. Gaara was hopeful about Sakura, but knowing his luck something was bound to happen, so it was better to play it safe.

It only took as long as to brush his teeth to realize he had no idea what he was doing and was in over his head…

“Did you talk to your brother first before coming to me, hmm?” Temari asked with a catlike smile plastered all over her face.

“No, I wouldn’t trust any advice he gives me about women,” Gaara said looking right at his sister, “And he won’t find out until I tell him Temari.” They were in Temari’s apartment. Shikamaru was lazily reading a book on the couch while they were sitting at the table, they had just finished a dinner Gaara had brought over. He instated that it was not a bribe for help.

“Good, his advice is awful,” Temari said as she crossed her arms and closed her eyes, “Okay. So what is this girl like? I’ve never seen you like this before Gaara.”

“Well, she’s definitely smart and kind. She laughs and makes jokes a lot. Maybe go to a comedy club?” Gaara suggested.

“Nah you need to do something where you can talk to each other since it’s the first date. Good idea, keep that if things go well,” Temari said with a smile. They thought about it for a bit longer but came up with nothing.

“Maybe if I saw what she looked like it would help give me inspiration!” Temari exclaimed, knowing Gaara would see right through her. He rolled his eyes and opened his phone to her dating profile.

“Ooo, Sakura what a pretty name! It certainly matches that pink hair! And her eyes Gaara! Did you like her first? I’m surprised she’s talking to you!” Temari said as she handed back his phone.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Gaara said. He smiled at Sakura’s picture before closing his phone. “Actually she liked me first and that’s exactly what I asked her when we first matched. She was just as shocked as I was that we matched.”

Temari gave a hearty laugh to his response. “I like her already! Bring her to my fashion show on Saturday! If it’s going well I’m sure she’ll say yes to going with you!”

“Let’s see how the date actually goes first, she could find me creepy in person,” Gaara said with a slight slump to his shoulders.

“I don’t get that vibe from her. Don’t worry, as your older sister I will always look out for you!” Temari said as she rose from her chair, “I had a feeling a girl was involved. You’ve been happier. I got some samples for you that would be perfect for a date.”

When she left the room Shikamaru made a polite cough. “You know the botanical gardens might be a good spot. You can walk and talk and show her what you know about flowers and stuff. A good spot for both of you since she doesn’t want to do the typical dinner thing. Which to me is a good sign that she hasn’t figured out who your family is and is after your money,” he said without looking up from his book.

Gaara wanted to roll his eyes, but Shikamaru had a really good point. He would feel right at home amongst the flowers and Sakura would look so pretty standing near all different colored flowers…

Gaara’s attempted to smile, which was more of a smirk, he gave his thanks to his soon to be brother-in-law and made his way to the door. Temari came back with a bag of clothes, Gaara grabbed them and gave a quick thanks to his sister and said he would be in touch and left. Looking bewildered, Temari turned to her fiance.

“What on earth did you tell him to make his rush out like that,” she asked as she started to clean off the table.

“I knew Gaara and Sakura would both enjoy the botanical gardens that’s all,” Shikamaru said with a yawn.

“And how would you know what this Sakura girl would like hmm?” Temari asked with a hint of anger on the edge of her words.

“Well I know Sakura of course,” he said as he sat up so he could smirk at Temari, “She’s Ino best friend. She would tag along sometimes on the Ino-Shika-Cho family vacations. Small world right?”

Everything was in motion. His hair was styled, not too much hair jell just enough to keep it out of his eyes. His eyes did have a bit of eyeliner on them, old habits die hard. Temari had come through with some decent clothes. Thankfully she hadn’t put in the super trendy clothes that she made him wear when he helped her and Kankuro out at photoshoots. She picked out a fitted button-down shirt that was red, a bit lighter than his hair, with a small rose pattern all over his shirt. He had a pair of light washed jeans and his tan shoes that he sometimes wore when he went out with Kankuro.

Temari just stared at him blankly until, “Tell. Me. EVERYTHING!”

He was standing at the entrance of the gardens waiting for Sakura. Making sure he came early so that she didn’t have to wait by herself. It was a beautiful summer day and not too many people seemed to be around Gaara noticed happily. He really didn’t want to be bumping into people as he was getting to know Sakura. Checking his watch again Gaara had about ten minutes left before Sakura showed up. He had to keep reminding himself not to crush the flowers that were in his hand. Temari had insisted that he get Sakura flowers.

His phone was going off in his pocket and it was a text from Sakura. Just parked! Let me know when you’re here! He quickly typed back where to meet him. Gaara’s heart was pounding. This was so unlike him. When was the last time he was this nervous? He could feel a slight blush creeping up from his neck. Gaara tried to think of anything to get himself to relax.

“Gaara?” a light voice said. And there she was right next to him. When he turned Sakura gave a bright open happy smile that made him so interested in her in the first place. He had to look down a bit to see her, but he did notice the slight blush to her cheeks too. Her hair was smooth and came to about her shoulders. She was wearing a dark blue button-down dress that had sunflowers exploding all over it and simple white shoes. She giggled seeing the state he was in.

“Am I worse than you expected?” Sakura asked with a laugh in her voice.

“Better actually,” automatically came out of Gaara. Now it was Sakura’s turn to be flustered. They laughed nervously for a second when Gaara remembered the flowers in his hand. “Here for you.”

Sakura looked shocked to see the flowers. She slowly reached out for them and gazed at them longingly. But a huge smile broke across her face.

“Thank you so much, Gaara. I love them!” she giggled as she put her face in the bouquet to smell them, “And they match my dress too! It’s not my birthday you didn’t have to do this.”

“Does it need to be your birthday to get flowers?” Gaara asked. He remembered the few times Kankuro had a girlfriend for a while that he would always stop to get her flowers. Even Shikamaru did it from time to time. His comment seemed to surprise her, but she smiled nonetheless.

“I guess you’re right. Let me put these in my car and let’s get going!” she ran off and was back in no time, (she parked right in front of him, he was too busy trying to calm down to notice.) Then they were off to start their date.

Ch 5

#gaara x sakura #Sabaku No Gaara #Sakura Haruno #dating au #modern au #shikamara nara #temari #Kankuro #gaasaku

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