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#10 seconds into the movie and I had to look away when the camera zoomed in onto the respawned soldier's face but

stars1997 · 21 days

Text

Anniversary Love

Paring(s): Nico Hischier x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut!! (18+) smut with plot, fingering, phone sex, mutual masturbation. (Not edited)

Summary: The team had a few away games over on the west coast this week. The away games also happen to fall on your and Nico’s anniversary. you decide to wear one of his jerseys when watching the game. he scores a few goals and to show him how proud you are of him you send him a few risky photos/videos.

word count: 1.7k

_________________________________________________

It was 9 p.m. on a Friday, and the Devils were going up against the LA Kings. The game didn’t start till 10 p.m. This gave you some time to make some dinner before the game started.

You made yourself a grilled cheese and some soup. Eating it quickly and sending a good luck text to Nico.

Some of the wives and girlfriends invited you over so you could all watch the game together. You told them you weren’t feeling the best, they told you it would be best if I stayed home and got some rest.

Cleaning up your dishes, there was only a couple of minutes before the game started. You went into your and Nico’s room and grabbed one of Nico’s jerseys.

Getting comfortable, slipping out of your day clothes, and leaving nothing but your underwear on. You slide on the jersey and some fluffy socks and make your way over to the couch.

Making yourself comfortable, grabbing the blanket that Nico and you use when you watch movies together. It took the rest of the time to turn on the TV and get the game on, when you finally got it up, they were getting ready for puck drop.

_________________________

The first period had gone by fast. The devils are up by one and the kings at zero. Nico was the one being interviewed during the first intermission. He looked flushed and all sweaty. The LA Kings were playing hard tonight so that meant that the Devils had to play harder.

“You have been playing extra hard out there tonight. I know that LA has been pushing you guys to work hard but is there a reason why you are working just a little harder?” the interviewer asks Nico. Today is Nico’s and yours second anniversary. Even though we have been together for two years, him being away for so long always makes you sad.

“No, yeah. LA pushed us to be our best selves out there. We were very lucky to be able to get that goal. But I'm also playing for my lovely lady at home! Today is our two year anniversary. I love you and I’ll be home before you know it.” He looks at the camera for that last part, sending you a wink. The interviewer thanks him and he heads to the locker room.

Your cheeks were bright red. You pick up your phone to text him a photo of how red in the face you were. He sent back a quick heart and kissing face emoji. You let out a little giggle.

_________________________

They were in the middle of the second period. The devils are now up by two, the score now being three to one. Nico was fighting to get the puck out of the devil’s zone. He skates around the net sending the puck to Luke. He skates down the ice and passes by Luke. Luke sends the puck back to Nico. Nico was able to get a breakaway. Shooting the puck and making a goal.

“Yes!” your arms in the air as you cheer at the tv. After the goal they zoomed in you your boyfriend. He’s got a huge smile on his face, as he’s letting out huffs of air trying to catch his breath. Something about the excitement of the goal and how hot he looked when they zoomed in on him turned you on a little bit. Not long after they dropped the puck to continue the game Nico scored another goal.

The second intermission rolled around, and the score was now five to three, Nico scoring two of those goals. you decided to send him a little congratulation text.

_________________________

y/n: Oh my! Congrats babe on the two goals! do you think it’s because I’m wearing this? y/n: (photo of you in his jersey) Nico: Thank you, baby! Hoping for a third, just for you. Nico: You look hot in my jersey. I wish I was home to see you in it in person. y/n: Wish you were here so you could take it off me. Nico: Don’t do this to me right now baby. I need to head back out for third period. I love you and ill call you when I get to my hotel room.

You smile at your phone, an idea popping into your head.

_________________________

The third period went by a lot faster than you were expecting. They were able to keep the lead but not by much. The final score being five to three.

You were going to show him just how proud you were of him and how he played in tonight’s game. You open the camera app, setting your phone down on the couch so its resting against some pillows so it was able to get your whole body in frame.

First you decided to take a few photos. The first one, you’re sitting on your heels. Your back facing the camera so your able to see the number and his last name.

You lift the bottom of the jersey up just enough to show off the black lace thong that you have on underneath.

Turning so you’re now facing the camera you then lift the jersey up, flashing the camera as it took the photo.

The last photo you bring one of your hands down to your underwear, touching yourself over the lace, your other hand still holding up the jersey.

You let out a little giggle as you press the send button on the first photo.

_________________________

y/n: (photo) y/n: What do you think of this photo I took? Was thinking of posting it so people know that #13 is mine. Nico: No! you will not be posting that photo. y/n: What about these? y/n: (photo’s) Nico: Babe you need to stop sending me these when I’m still in the locker room with the boys. Now be a good girl and wait for me to call you when I get back to the hotel.

Another giggle left your lips at his text.

y/n: Yes sir.

_________________________

You waited about twenty minutes, but you were growing impatient. pulling down your underwear, tossing them onto the floor next to you. Setting the camera back up as you press record.

You position yourself so your back is against the arm rest. Your hands playing with your tits before you slide your right hand down, sliding your fingers through your folds.

Your quick to send it to Nico. Although you didn’t get a response back right away. It takes a minute for your phone to ring. You pick it up to see that Nico is facetiming you.

“Why are you such a brat?” he says as his face comes into frame on your phone.

“Only for you baby. I’m so happy for you! Two goals that’s amazing.” You give him a cute little smile, trying to act innocent. “Thank you, baby, but that’s not going to detract me form the fact that you were being a brat earlier and still being one now. You made me hard right after I got out of the shower, I only had my towel on. Everyone was confused why I was taking so long to get dressed.” You knew that if he was home, he would have you over his lap right now.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to show you how proud I was of you tonight. Did you not like it?” you ask still acting innocent. As he starts to talk, your hand reaches down to play with your clit. “No baby I love when you show me how proud of me you are, but you should have waited till I got back to the hotel. You know better than to send me stuff like that Infront of the guys.” You let out a little moan when he finishes his sentence.

“Man, you really like being a brat don’t you,” he says, your fingers don’t stop though. You could hear his zipper, he was quick to pull down his pants and underwear. You hear shuffling then his face pops back into frame with the headboard behind him.

He spits in his hand bringing it to his cock, his head tips back and he lets out a moan. “Fuck baby I wish I was with you right now. I wish this was your hand stroking me.” He says, stroking his cock faster. your fingers rub your clit faster, matching his speed.

“I hate that you’re going to be gone for so long. We’re going to have to do this every night,” I say, he lets out a little laugh.

“Fuck. Set your phone up so I can see you and use your other hand to finger yourself.” His accent stronger now then before. You set your phone up, doing what he told you to do.

You let out a loud moan as you curl your finger inside you. You’re trying to keep your moans down, not wanting to get another noise complaint.

You can hear him mumble curse words under his breath after every grunt and moan that he lets out. “Baby I’m not going to be able to last any longer. I want you to cum with me.” You nod letting him know that your also close.

“Fuck Nico. I’m,” you’re not able to finish your sentence because your cut off by the loud moan that leaves your mouth. You hear Nico let out a grunt, letting you know that he came as well.

“Fuck baby I miss you so much, but I got to go. I have to let jack know that he can come back into the room and then I have to go to sleep. So do you because its late over there. Happy anniversary love and we will celebrate when I get home.” He says, out of breath. Running a hand through his hair. You both say goodnight and hang up the call.

_________________________

You take a shower and get changed into some comfy pajamas about to get into bed when a knock sounds on the door. You open it to see one some of the girlfriends and wives. “Weren’t feeling good my ass. How was your little call with Nico?” one of them asks making you blush. now knowing that they were able to hear you from the apartment that they were hanging out in.

#nico hischier fic #nico hischier smut #nico hischer x reader #nico hischier #hockey fluff #hockey smut #new jersey devils #nico hischier imagine

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boliv-jenta · 2 years

Text

Product Testing

Marcus Pike/unnamed female.

Smut.🔞

The unassuming brown box sat on the table. The dull packaging was in stark contrast to the thrilling present concealed inside. Picking up her phone she sent Marcus a quick text.

"I got your package."

"Literally."

"Wait, it is...you?"

"Yeah. I bought a kit to make it."

The grin that had been almost splitting her face in two since she opened the box threatened to finish the job. Her phone quickly discarded in favour of getting a closer look at Marcus's gift. At first she had wondered why he had bought her such a large one. Maybe it was because she had confessed to a massive dry spell. Maybe he thought that's what women wanted. That fact that it was neither of those thing and it was just a preview of what he had promised to give her once they finally met made her pussy ache. This year had been crazy. First there had been her random promotion, a better job, in DC, which meant relocating. Fortunately, the person she was taking over from was leaving the country. Leaving a very nice apartment vacant. Trying to be proactive, she had join a dating app to chat to single professionals in the area she was moving to. They're were a few creeps, a promising few flirty messages with one guy before he ghosted. A woman that was happy to chat long distance but wasn't ready to met up in real life. Then there was Marcus. Marcus, who from the first day had made her cold, lonely heart flutter. Marcus who showed so much potential as a romantic partner. The two of them arranged a date for her first Friday in DC. A new job, a new home, a potential new boyfriend. Things were looking up. Until Covid hit.

Being vulnerable, her doctor recommended not leaving her home. Everything was put on hold. Her job went remote. Compared to some, she knew she was lucky but missing her date with Marcus was a bigger hit than she thought it would be. At that point they spoke every day. They texted and talked for hours. Her heart broke when she realised it might be months before she could actual met him. Being a complete sweetheart, Marcus had suggested a 'Zoom date' to make up for the one they missed. They became a regular thing. They ate together, watched movies together, shared their days with each other. It was almost as if they were in a relationship apart from one aspect that they had both been missing.

It had started innocently enough. "God, I wish I could kiss you." Marcus had commented. She had been sitting on her balcony, bathed in sunlight. Head tossed back laughing at his joke. A deep pink blush crept over her cheeks as she responded with "Me too." Kissing emojis appeared more frequently in Marcus's texts.

One night they decided to go dancing, this entailed taking turns choosing a song on Zoom while they danced around their living rooms like lunatics aided by a fair amount of alcohol. She had chosen Paradise City. Marcus had struggled to keep his jaw off the floor and his tongue in his mouth as she rolled her hips to the intro. When she caught him staring, the alcohol spoke for her. "Like what you see?" He nodded breathlessly. She carrying on undulating her hips for a moment before turning her back to him. He was transfixed as she slowly pulled her t-shirt over her head, exposing inch after inch of bare skin to him. Flashing a beguiling smile over her shoulder, she removed her bra. Marcus's breath hitched in his throat as she began to turn towards him. His eyes darted away for a moment, deciding if looking was the decent thing to do. His lust for her won out as he looked up again the side of her breast covered by her arm came into view. Just as she was about to turn completely, she threw her shirt over the camera with a giggle. "It's 10 bucks a minute after the first 30 seconds."

"I'll give you my credit card number. My car. My house. You can have it all." He sighed.

When she appeared on the screen again her bra was back in place and she was slipping her shirt on. "You can keep your money. Maybe you can give me something else?" And that is how she ended up with a very out of focus, badly framed dick pic from an FBI Agent. She'd asked on impulse. She'd never received one and he'd never sent one. Within ten minutes he'd sent it to her. It was exciting and stupid and fun and surprisingly hot. That man was just beautiful all over, it seemed.

The next morning, the more sober version of her asked him if she wanted him to delete it. He sheepishly told her no. It was a dumb thing to do in hindsight but he didn't mind her having it. Not sure where to go from there she asked if there was anything she could give him in return. He politely declined, telling her it was just fun to do something so stupid. But Marcus did want something from her. He wanted to know if she liked what she saw. Did it turn her on? Would she touch herself to the thought of him? It took a full week of it bubbling under his skin for him to ask her about it one sleepless night.

It was 2am when he looked to see if she was up, she'd messaged someone a few minutes ago. A pang of jealousy stabbed at his chest. He brushed it away as he no right to it. She could text who she wanted at 2am. Just because he was texting with one thing on his mind doesn't mean she was.

What are you doing up?

Can't sleep. Same for you?

Yeah, thinking too much.

About?

You.

Oh yeah? What about me?

How easily you got me to send that picture.

What picture? I have no clue what you mean.

Yes you do.

Oh, you mean the picture that I usually look at when I can't sleep? When I need to unwind?

And that helps you to unwind?

It does when I touch myself while looking at it.

You're going to be the death of me. Have you really touched yourself while thinking of me?

Yes. Have you?

Yes. I couldn't help myself after seeing you dance and that little strip tease.

Am glad you liked it. Do you like to be teased?

I do when you do it.

The next message from her was a picture of her fingers dipping below the waist band of her panties.

You're so fucking naughty.

Language! It that how an FBI agent should talk?

Don't act all innocent. I should arrest you for torture. That's illegal you know.

Would you use your handcuffs and frisk me? I might go steal a car right now.

Sorry not my jurisdiction.

How about if I drive it into an art gallery?

Well in that case. I'd bend you over the hood to cuff you before frisking you.

If you bent me over the hood, you wouldn't need the cuffs. I'd stay right there for you.

Really? You'd be a good girl for me?

For you? Always. Unless you wanted me to be naughty. Tell me what you want Marcus.

I want you to be my naughty girl.

Your naughty girl with her fingers in her panties wishing they were yours?

What do you wish they were doing?

I wish they were deep inside of me. Stroking that spot I struggle to reach. I bet your long fingers would have no problem.

Sorry, they're a little busy right now. You've got me so hard I had to wrap them around my cock.

Fuck. Who's the tease now? Are you stroking yourself?

Yes. Wish it was you.

My hand? Or my mouth.

Your mouth is so pretty. I think about those lips all the time.

I'd love to wrap them around your cock.

Shit. Are you touching yourself? Tell me how.

Am rubbing circles on my clit.

Is that enough for you?

I can come like that. You've got me so worked up I'd usually add something else. My fingers in my pussy. Playing with my tits.

Why don't you do that?

Can't. Texting.

Let me call you? I want to hear you.

Instead of a reply her name appeared on his caller ID. He willed himself to be cool. "Hey."

"Hi."

"Are you really touching yourself for me?"

"Yeah. I do most nights lately."

"That's so hot. I wish I'd have known. I would have called you sooner."

"Oh yeah? You like a little phone sex Agent?"

"I don't know. I've never done it before. I like you though."

"I like you too Marcus." She took a breath to let the sentiment sink in. "Enough that you have me dripping over my fingers. Am thinking about those eyes of yours and those full lips."

A shuddered sigh left her as she pushed a finger inside herself. Shuffling down the bed, she let her legs fall open and tilted her hips up, searching for that spot that she wanted Marcus to find. Finding it, she couldn't help but moan his name.

"Fuck, Baby, am here. Where are your hands now?"

"Am still circling my clit. Now I've got one, oh god, two fingers in my pussy." She could hear Marcus's movements speed up. "A-are you stroking yourself faster?"

"Yes. Fuck, I need to. You got me so turned on I feel like am going to burn up if I don't come."

She felt her pussy clench around her fingers at his words. Pulling them out of it's grip, she began to pump them in and out furiously, wishing it was Marcus's cock sliding through her slick, feeling the tight clutch her pussy. She told him as much.

"Me too. Wish I could see that pretty face contoured in ecstasy as I give you my cock."

Who knew her sweet, romantic, art loving Agent had a mouth on him? "How would you give your cock Marcus?"

"Right now, I'd bend you over, like a naughty car thief. I'd line up with your entrance and slide all the way home. From the sounds of it you could take me no problem."

The soft squelch of her pussy gushing around her fingers had been threatened to push Marcus over the edge for the last few minutes. He'd had to stop and grip the base of his dick.

"Yes." Was all that she could get out.

The way she moaned it had him twitching in his hand. He absently massaged his balls as continued. "Then I'd pull almost all the way out before slamming back into you. Naughty Girls don't get treated nicely. I'd fuck you like that until I came, hard, filling you up." His own words had him pumping his length again.

"Fuck, Marcus. Am close. I'd let you do all of that. I'd push that pussy back on you. Letting you fill me so deeply. I'd touch myself until I came all over you. My pussy milking your cock until your come dripped down my thighs."

Marcus let out a drawn out groan, he name was mixed in there. In that rich, deep voice, it was the sexiest thing she'd ever heard.

"Oh god Marcus am going to come for you."

"Yes, baby. Please let me hear you. I think about making you moan my name so much. Want to make you scream it when you come over my face."

That visual was enough to have her scream it as her peak hit her. As it ebbed away she repeated it until it became a sigh on her lips.

Neither of them spoke while they caught their breath. After a moment Marcus wondered if she was embarrassed now the hormones had worn off. He had to admit, he was a little. He worried about what she thought about him pounding into his fist as he listened to her get herself off. He was a little embarrassed at how fast he had come too. Reaching over to his nightstand he grabbed some tissues to clean up some of his come for now. He was definitely going to need a shower. He'd come so hard he could even feel some in his stubble.

To his relief she spoke first. "That was amazing Marcus."

"Yeah?" She could practically hear him blushing.

"Yeah. We're definitely doing that again. I want to know more about what Naughty Girls get."

He blushed. Horny Marcus and regular Marcus were two different guys. Regular Marcus still wants to do all those things but he can't help but get a little flustered.

"You are very naughty, letting me listen to you touching yourself. Am glad you did though."

It was her turn to blush. "Really? No regrets?"

"No, as long as you're okay with it."

"Definitely."

They wished each other goodnight before falling into a peaceful sleep. Phone sex then became part of their new routine. She introduced Marcus to her sex toys. She even bought him one of him own. That all lead to the brown box sitting on her kitchen table. "Do I want to know how you made this?"

"If you want to find me sexy, no. If you want a good laugh, yes. How about you give it a go first? You can give me a review while I tell you all about watching porn with my penis in a tube."

"Deal."

Marcus's product got a five star review. So did the real thing a few months later. As well as the man himself.

Tags @kirsteng42 @babydarkstar @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @misspearly1

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #marcus pike #marcus pike smut

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nctsworld · 3 years

Text

two nights, one you

✩‌ jaemin ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ fuckboy!jaemin | strangers (who f*ck) to (brief) enemies to lovers | ‌10.9k

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ a last-minute one night stand gone awry is extended into two nights when you’re snowed in at the cute (but rude) stranger’s apartment on christmas eve. [loosely based on the movie, two night stand] // part of the x-mas in ncity collection GENRES ⇾ crack | smut | fluff WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌lots of bickering and dialogue, smut, oral s*x (f and m receiving), fingering, mentions of alcohol/drinking, swearing, bit of angst before the end, jaemin’s an asshole... or is he? RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ explicit TAGLIST ⇾‌ @infnteen

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ it’s late (and long fsldkm), srysry but here it is! i hope the humour comes out in this and look away if falls flat zzz fingers crossed that i can finish the last two installments for this collection asap!

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

Maybe it’s because it’s the evening of Christmas Eve Eve and you’re feeling more lonely than usual.

Maybe it’s due to the two glasses of wine you guzzled down in the span of fifteen minutes that get you buzzed.

Maybe it’s your prominent six-month dry spell and you’re in desperate need for some much needed rain in your drought.

Or maybe it’s just pure impulsiveness.

Regardless of the reasons, you’re aiming to get laid tonight.

It’s 9:45pm as you make the rounds on Tinder. You’ve used it in the past, searching for a relationship in vain, but haven’t used it much since you broke up with your last partner. Bringing the app alive again, you’re already bombarded by distasteful messages, off-putting one-liners and jokes, and swiping left more than you’d like.

You haven’t had a one-night stand before, but isn’t there anyone on here that is just a little bit attractive, nearby where you are, around your age, and is somewhat chivalrous about the topic besides saying DTF? Maybe you need to lower your standards if you want to get dicked down tonight.

But then, you land on him.

One Na Jaemin, 20 years old, and only four miles away from you.

Scrolling through his profile pictures and Instagram feed, you assume that he’s into photography, is on the athletic side from the various hobbies he partakes in, and he must be at least half-aware of his beauty because there’s the occasional pic that shows off his lean, toned arms, which, if you can be frank, is more flattering than the shirtless ones you constantly see. Oh, and he attends the same university as you.

The cherry on top? His bio is simple and upfront:

“Not up for anything serious, but always down for a good time ;)”

You swipe right without hesitation.

“It’s a Match!” flashes instantly at you. Your mouth swings open in disbelief.

Usually, you’d wait for your matches to message you and play hard-to-get, but not tonight. Tonight, you’re initiating and leading all the conversations, completely driven by your thirst.

Messaging Jaemin is a breeze. He types with more than half a brain, and he flirts, but it isn’t overwhelming or repulsive. Segueing the current topic, you drag your bottom lip upward as you send the following message:

so, hypothetically... if one were to have good time with you would tonight work?

Not even twenty seconds later and he replies with:

-wow, dont you go straight to the point -im impressed -but yeah -tonight works ;)

He’s quick to send his address.

-let me know when ur here and ill come get you out front!

Smacking your lips together, you squeal to yourself in the comfort of your home, excited to meet with him, but then a thought hangs over you—this feels a little too good to be true. Horrible scenarios run through your head, so your fingers dash across your phone’s keyboard:

tbh i haven’t really done this b4 so im kinda new to this is it ok if we video call or smth? gotta make sure you’re real and not a serial killer i’m sure you understand 😛

-for sure for sure -totally get it -ive had my fair share of fake girls and serial killers so i feel u 😛

Grateful for his consideration, you rush to rearrange your hair after you send him a Zoom link, hoping you look decent enough to not have him back off from his initial offer. He appears in the video call on his phone with the front-facing camera on a few seconds after you connect.

“Hi,” you chirp.

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Hey.”

Okay, he’s definitely cuter in real-time than in his pictures.

“You know, I’m not gonna lie, but I lowkey expected to see a dick or something,” you joke in an attempt to dispel your nervousness.

“Same,” he chuckles, running a hand through his black hair.

Oh God, he’s not just cute—he’s devastatingly gorgeous.

“So, this is my place...”

Jaemin moves around with his apartment in the background, revealing his living room first. Envy prods you as you note the brick walls, high ceiling windows, and well-appointed furnishings.

Recalling his address, you ask, “How’d you get a place in the heart of the city?”

“Lucked out,” he shrugs. His phone shakes a bit as he’s still moving. “My friend slash roommate—who is at his girlfriend’s place tonight, so we have the place all to ourselves—his parents own the condo and they gave me a friend discount on the rent.”

He finally stands in one place and turns the light on to reveal a room. “And this is my bedroom.”

Nothing out of the ordinary. A desk table with a gaming set-up, in tow with a gamer chair, and a decently-sized bed beside a nightstand.

“Oh, and here’s my closet.” Jaemin’s on the move again as he opens his closet doors. “Just to make sure you don’t think I hide the skins of my past one-nighters in here.”

A bubbly laugh rises from you. “Okay, I didn’t think of that before, but now you’ve planted the seed in my head. Maybe you hide them in the other rooms.”

“Nah, my roommate would kill me if I did.”

Both of you laugh in unison, and you bob your head with puffed cheeks.

“Okay, it all seems very promising. I’m going to get ready and I’ll guess I’ll see you in a bit, Jaemin.”

“Sounds good,” Jaemin nods, then winks. Although you’re sitting down, he’s still able to get you weak in the knees. “See you soon.”

You end the call and rush to bundle up for the snow starting to come down outside. A twenty-minute train ride later, you’re at the front door of a rustic, industrial apartment complex. After informing Jaemin you’re outside, you glance up at the snowflakes falling from the dark pink-grey sky, anticipating for what comes next.

Sex with a hot guy, what can go wrong?

So, you must’ve jinxed it because the sex is...

Unsatisfying. Finished faster than you’d like it to be. Sadly, overall disappointing. If you had to rate it, three out of five stars, at best.

But hey, he came, and you sort of did, and it wasn’t the worst sex you’ve ever had. It half-quenched your dry spell.

And enough happened that it tired you out, leaving you passed out in the handsome stranger’s bed until morning.

In the morning, your eyes slowly flicker, unused to the foreign, sweet scent engulfing you in your bed. Correction: Jaemin’s bed.

Your eyes flicker faster as you glance through the almost wall-sized window. The snow hasn’t let up from last night. On the contrary, it seems like it’s snowing non-stop. You groan at the thought of going home in this weather.

The bed is without Jaemin’s presence as you reach for your phone on the nightstand. 10:36AM and a few notifications greet you. You rub your eyes and start combing through them, rising upward to sit up on the bed.

“Morning. You’re finally up.”

Peering up from your device, Jaemin’s standing by the door with folded arms. His plain sweater and sweatpants match the colour of his hair. The dazzling smile he gives is so contagious, you’re not even conscious of catching one too.

“Out you go.”

You blink.

Once, twice, and then you tilt your head as you stare blankly at him, uncertain if you heard him correctly.

After a few moments, because you’re not moving an inch, his smile dissipates and he cocks an eyebrow in expectancy. A serious expression rolls over his face.

Suddenly, Jaemin strolls to the side of the bed and hitches his thumb towards the door.

You definitely heard him right.

And he’s dead-serious.

You replay the video call from last night, dissecting how you thought he was nice and funny and—

Realization dawns on you.

Why would you expect anything more from a two-faced fuck boy?

Still awestruck by the situation, you’re still solid as a statue, so Jaemin takes matters into his own hands and grasps you by your elbow, casually dragging you from his bed like he’s taking out the trash.

“What the fuck?!” you screech.

“C’mon, let’s go. Out out.”

“My clothes, though!” you protest in the middle of the hallway. He sighs in frustration, scurries to the bedroom, and returns with a small pile in his arms, then continues to drag you to the front door.

“Are you always this pleasant with your guests the morning after?” you rage, putting on the rest of your clothes by the door. “You don’t even have the decency to offer me tea or coffee?”

“This was a one-night stand, not a bed and breakfast, sunshine,” he says as he watches you put your shoes on. He’s folding his arms again and leaning against the wall, his attitude dripping with smug. If he wasn’t a stranger, you’d punch it off his face. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were new to this, huh?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“It means you’re a borderline virgin who needs to toodle-loo, get going and gone because you’re overstaying your welcome as we speak.”

Finishing putting on your coat, you’re fuming as your jaw hangs at the personal jab over your skills in bed. Jaemin swings the door open and shoves you through it.

“But I’ll admit, it was still nice having sex with you!” he chimes with a sickening grin and a hand on the door.

“Aw, thanks asshole, wish I could say the same,” you sarcastically reply, resting a palm upon your chest.

He scoffs. “From what I heard last night, I think I can confidently say that you had a great time.”

Flashbacks replay in your mind of your screaming fest from underneath him. Little did Jaemin actually know—

“You know, for someone who I assume has many one-night stands,” you spit with squinted eyes. “I’m surprised you can’t tell when girls fake it.”

You must’ve hit a sore spot because he grinds his teeth and you could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

Oh yeah, you’re definitely the winner in this fight.

“Okay, you know what, Merry Christmas and fuck you. Have a great life!”

“Fuck you, dickface. Wishing you a miserable Christmas!”

With a bitter smile, you flip him off as he slams the door in your face.

Carrying a basket filled with dirty clothes, Jaemin’s on the way down to the laundry room in the basement of his apartment with his shoulder scrunched up, squeezing his phone to his ear.

“Bro, she had the audacity to say that I didn’t make her come when she was screaming my God damn ear off—”

As he steps down the short flight of stairs and passes by the foyer area by the main entrance to the building, he notices you’re still here.

“Shit, uh, Jeno,” he mumbles. “I’m gonna have to call you back.”

He stuffs his phone into the pocket of his sweats and calls out to you as he strides closer. “Are you resorting to stalking me by my front door now?”

With crossed arms, you peer over your shoulder, eyes full of bitterness.

“Like I wanna be anywhere near you right now,” you grumble. You jerk your head towards the thick, wooden door. “It’s jammed from the snow.”

The laundry carrier shakes his head and places the basket onto the floor. “A little snow never hurt anyone. You’re probably just too weak.”

Stepping aside and holding out an arm, you signal for him to give it a try.

Jaemin twists the handle and, lo and behold, it doesn’t open. His forehead crinkles as he tries again and again, using more force each time.

Glancing through one of the partially frosted windows adjacent to the sides of the door, he notices the snow has piled enormously high, almost to the height of his chest.

“Well, shit.”

Reluctantly, Jaemin brings you back to his apartment. You’re technically his guest and if he left you in the foyer to freeze, trouble would surely come his way, whether it be in the form of his landlords (also known as his roommate’s parents) or the police.

Without a word, he settles a spoon in a bowl, a carton of milk, and a box of cereal onto the small kitchen table.

At first, you stare at it venomously in rejection, thinking you can easily last a day without any hand-outs from this son of a bitch, but your stomach roars ferociously three seconds later.

As you chew across from him, you enjoy the company of your phone over him, while he does the same but with a cup of coffee in hand.

After finishing your food, you adamantly place your phone down and lean back into the chair, boring holes into his head.

“Why are you such an asshole?” you seethe observantly.

“Why are you such a bitch?” he retorts, not pulling his gaze away from his phone.

“Because you started it,” you say slowly, stating the obvious.

“No, you.”

You sigh defeatedly at his childish behaviour. The weather apps predict the snow will (hopefully) die down by tomorrow morning, thus you’re officially stuck with him for the next twenty-four hours or so. Your hands rake through your hair.

“Whether we like it or not, the snow isn’t going away until tomorrow. Merry Christmas Eve to us, I guess.”

He’s still glued to his phone. You exhale another sigh.

“Since we’re not getting out of this until then, can we just...” You soften your voice. “Start over?”

His eyes are still on the screen, but from the way his shoulders tense and how he stops scrolling, you know he’s considering your proposition.

“At least call a stalemate over this.” You drift your hand in the air, gesturing between you and him.

Blowing out air and shaking his head, he rests his phone onto the table.

“Fine.”

He crosses his arms, imitating you, and the two of you sit there, staring at each other in a long silence.

One minute, to be exact.

You’re the one to break the silence game by running your hands over your face, letting out a hybrid of a groan and laugh.

“God, the fact that we had sex makes this kinda awkward, huh?”

Jaemin’s exterior melts slightly, letting out a snicker. He shrugs, “Then let’s just pretend that we didn’t have sex.”

“We can’t just pretend that we didn’t have sex,” you say, holding two upturned palms near your face.

“We did it, it’s done. I’ve seen your penis, you kicked me out, and you labelled me a prude—” You dart a finger towards him. “—which I am far from, by the way. All of those are pretty huge things.”

One of the corners of his mouth raises high. “Are you saying my penis is huge?”

“No, the implication of said penis is huge. Wipe that smirk off your face.”

He stretches an arm, holding an imaginary microphone to your face. “Do you deny that my penis is huge?”

Rolling your eyes, you swat his fist away. “What am I, on trial here?”

“Do you plead the fifth then?”

Annoyed, you roll your eyes again. Why do you get the feeling that you’re probably going to be doing this a lot more today? Another feeling tells you that if you don’t answer his question, he’ll probably pester you until you do.

You tilt your head side to side. “It’s... decently sized.”

“Bigger or smaller than average?”

“Perfect...” His eyes light up. “...ly average.” And a frown rolls over.

He squints his eyes accusingly at your sneer. “Are you lying like you did before about faking it?”

You scoff. “I wasn’t lying about faking it, and I’m not lying now about your average sized dick.”

Jaemin releases a disgruntled grumble and lifts his cup to his face. You notice he likes to take his coffee black and bitter, presumably like his heart.

“So, Miss I’m-Not-A-Prude-and-I’ve-Definitely-Had-Sex-Before.” His eyebrows perk up on the word definitely. “What’s your story? Why the last minute one-night stand?”

Shrugging your shoulders to your ears, you reply, “Haven’t had sex in a while.”

“When’s the last time you had sex?” he asks mid-sip.

“Half a year ago,” you respond nonchalantly, perching your chin into your palms.

Jaemin immediately chokes, almost spraying the coffee through his nose.

“Half a year?!” he gasps. It takes him a few hits to his chest to dispel the coughing. “Six months?!”

“Wow, you can count!” you exclaim in a condescending tone. You change the position of your hands so that your chin is now atop of the back of your curled fingers and tilt your head. “Can you also spell?”

“As a premed student, I can assure you that I am capable of doing both,” he says with a slight strain due to the coughing fit. The humble brag brings on another eye roll. Of course he’s a premed student with the attitude he wears.

“It’s just—” He clears his throat and swallows the last bit of coffee stuck in his windpipe. “—The last time I had a dry spell was for like, a month, tops.”

So the fuckboy gets laid way more on the daily than you expect. You’re torn between being envious over how much action he gets in comparison to you, or remorseful, since you’re now just one of the many notches on his bedpost.

No matter, sarcasm is always the best defence mechanism.

“Good for you, Jaemin. I’m sure you’re very proud of that.”

There’s an awkward beat. His head hangs for a moment while his thumbs stroke the sides of his cup. A strange pinch of guilt occurs. Did you overstep an unspoken line? But then he drags himself back to reality in a heartbeat.

Jaemin brings the cup to his mouth again, mumbling, “At least the sex on your part makes more sense now; you’re rusty as fuck.”

Completely aware of what he said, you trash your guilt entirely and narrow your eyes. “What did you just say?”

Following a long sip, he hums, “Mmm, nothing.” Soon after, he stands up with his cup.

“I’m gonna go game now. Feel free to watch Netflix on the TV and stay in the living room.”

As if you had anywhere else to go...

He begins to walk towards his room as you mutter under your breath, “I’m not a dog.”

“Says the bitch,” he pipes up, taking you by surprise.

“Thought we had a stalemate?!” you shout, leaning your head forward as you watch him entering his room.

“Doesn’t mean we’re on peaceful terms!” he sing-shouts.

The flinging of the closed door echoes throughout the apartment.

Regret surges through you. You just had to choose a fuckboy fluent in assholery and end up incidentally being isolated with him during a snow storm on Christmas Eve.

You wonder if you can handle being around him for the next twenty-four hours without killing him first.

During the afternoon, you’re on the living room couch, playing a show as mostly background noise while you’re on your phone. At one point, your phone unsurprisingly begins to die and you tread over to Jaemin’s door to ask for a charger and if you can also take a shower. He’s still annoyed by your existence, but at least he hands you a charger and lets you know where the extra towels are.

Stepping into the living room with the towel in your hand as you dry your hair off, you peer out the large living room window and see nothing but white engulfing the streets and buildings as far as the eye can see.

You pray the snow will eventually stop as soon as possible so you can head back home.

By the middle of the afternoon, Jaemin emerges from his bedroom and shocks you by plopping down on the opposite end of the living room couch from where you’re sitting.

“Bored?” you ask, eyes fixated on the TV screen.

“Nope,” he replies, popping the p as he says it. His slings his arm around the top of the couch.

“Gotta keep an eye on you in case you do something.” Turning away from the screen, he faces you and motions circles with his hand. “You’ve got a little crazy in you, I can feel it.”

You quickly glance over at him, but try to refocus on the TV. “Need I remind you that you’re the crazy one, dragging me out of the apartment right as I woke up.”

That compels him to turn his whole body towards you. “Well, you’re the one who wanted a last-minute one-night stand.”

You match his stance. “As if I’m the first girl in your bed to stay in the morning?”

“Actually, yeah.” He aggressively tilts his head to one side. “Most girls leave before I even get up. The other percentage don’t fight me when I ask for them to go, so it looks like you’re the odd one out.”

You press your lips together, refusing to admit that maybe he has a point, under the assumption that he’s telling the truth.

Jaemin twists his body back to the screen and adds, “I make it very clear on my profile that I don’t do morning afters, sweetheart.”

And you agree that his profile is clear about his intentions, but that doesn’t mean you can condone his shitty behaviour.

“Well, sorry that I expected just an ounce of respect instead of getting kicked to the curb after you stuck your dick in me,” you grumble, shifting back to the show and crossing your arms.

“Morning afters lead to attachments, and attachments lead to feelings, and feelings lead to relationships,” he says the string of words clinically, as if it’s a mantra that he lives by.

Your eyebrows knit together as you whip your head towards him once more, studying him.

“And what’s so wrong with that?”

Deliberately averting your gaze, Jaemin grates his tongue between his teeth, a slight tsk audibly heard, and his chin juts out. There’s definitely a story behind his ways. He huffs and changes the subject.

“Seriously?” He holds a hand out. “You’re watching this trashy show?”

Squinting your eyes at him, you could probably interrogate him further, but you decide otherwise.

“It may be trashy,” you concur, looking at the TV. “But it’s my trashy comfort show.”

Following an over-the-top acted out scene between the show’s main love interests, Jaemin shoots up from the couch.

“Yeah, no, I can’t handle this. Can we either put on something else or game or something?”

“Why don’t you go back to your room to game, Mr. I’m-Not-Bored?”

“Like I said, I gotta keep an eye on you,” he says while bending over in front of the TV, already setting up the Playstation. He tosses you a controller as he strides to his side of the couch again.

He mumbles to himself, “Need to make sure you don’t go crazy from the lack of human interaction.”

Either Jaemin is selfish and only looking out for himself, or he wants to make sure you’re not feeling lonely in a stranger’s home.

Likely the first reason, you deduce—because why would a guy like Jaemin care about a mere one-night stand?

Admittedly, you’re not the best at games, especially at fighting ones. You can comprehend the move lists, but you like to live by button smashing the controller and repeating moves over and over.

So it’s hilarious when you beat Jaemin every round with your surprisingly fruitful technique.

“Okay, this is bullshit,” Jaemin complains, sticking his tongue out in irritation. His ass is currently being handed to him on a plate again since you’re almost done killing his character off. “You must be lying to me; you have to be a pro player or some shit.”

Jaemin’s health bar is dangerously low as your character jabs his with a sword. He winces out loud and you snicker.

“Why do you think I always lie about everything?! Dude, you have serious trust issues,” you joke before you steal the opportunity to slice his character. One more hit and he’s done for.

“I do not! I just—nooo!”

You rise to your feet and pump your arms in the air, turning in circles in joy over yet another win.

Sulking, Jaemin eyes your little dance from his end on the couch, but as he watches you more, a feeling balloons in his chest. Something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Finally coming down from your post-win high, you spot an emerging grin from the corner of your eye, making you pause.

“What?” you eye him suspiciously.

Your suspicion pops the sensation in his chest and, like a fish out of water, his eyes widen and his grin melts away.

“Nothing, uhm.” He ruffles his eyebrows and palms the back of his neck, quickly facing the TV. “Let’s go one more round and then we can switch to another game—”

Suddenly, the TV and surrounding lights switch off. Both of you waver your eyes, anticipating for them to come back on, but they unfortunately don’t.

Jaemin rushes over to the window. When he swivels his head towards you, his face darkens.

“Looks like it’s at least the whole block. The streetlights are out too.”

Without another word, he dashes to the linen closet and brings back several blankets. He calmly explains that there won’t be heat since it’s connected to the electricity, so it’d be best to keep warm with the extra layers.

Not wanting to scare you, he doesn’t add the fact that due to the huge windows in the apartment, more unnecessary cold air will come in, but you’re already cognizant of it from your own logic and since the remaining heat dissolves rapidly.

You groan and retreat into the massive blanket over your shoulders, turtling your head.

You can’t believe you’re going to fucking die in this asshole’s apartment on Christmas Eve.

On the ends of the couch in your makeshift blanket jackets, both of you attend to your phones for a while.

From what people and the news outlets are saying, it’s not just the block, but the whole city grid is out. You frantically text your friends, giving updates on how you are and half-jokingly telling them that you’re going to die with your dreadful one-night stand. Some time passes and Jaemin tosses his phone off to one side.

“Well, since there’s nothing else to do and we should probably conserve our phone batteries—” You glance up at him from your phone and pout. Slowly nodding in agreement, you toss it aside too. “—why don’t we play a game of ‘I’ll-Give-You-Pointers-on-How-to-be-Better-in-Bed’?”

A smile burgeons on his irritatingly handsome face and your eyes roll. At this point, you wonder if the reaction is conditioned into you. “It’ll be my early Christmas gift to you.”

“Wow, so thoughtful, how could I ever thank you?” You drag the blanket closer to your chest in false gratitude.

You think for a serious moment if you really want to go through with this. Hearing Jaemin run his mouth on you unwarranted is already painful, but to give him the go-ahead to do so? Especially criticizing your skills in bed?

You blow out a sigh, noting the slightly visible cloud. You’re grateful Jaemin has thick, downy blankets.

Well, if you’re going to die, may as well know what went wrong, right?

“Fine, but if we’re playing this game, we have to say everything honestly and take the criticism we get.” You point a stern finger. “No rebuttals, just acceptance.”

“Wait.” Jaemin crinkles his face in genuine confusion as his hand peeks out from his blanket.

“You have things to criticize about me in bed?”

Your lips tremble before you burst into laughter. Displeasure is on Jaemin’s tight-lipped face as you laugh for a while, almost keeling over in your blanket ball onto the hardwood floor. “How conceited are you, oh, my fucking God?”

He slices his hand through the air. “I’ve never had any complaints—”

“Because you’re too busy focusing on your own orgasm, you selfish dickwad,” you say as your laughter dies down.

He sits in his snit for a few more moments until he gets over it.

“Fine, fine,” he huffs. Jaemin knows he’s not going to enjoy this, but he’s the one who suggested it. He can’t back out now. “Let’s just get this over with, you go first.”

With your blanket held by your chest, you hop off your end of the couch and shuffle over in front of him where he’s seated. Beaming, you begin.

“Let’s start with foreplay.” Jaemin’s eyes light up with confidence, thinking he’s at least decent with that. You crush his expression as your lips purse and you shake your head.

“Non-existent.”

“What do you mean?! I kissed you as you took off your clothes.”

You stick your free hand out from your blanket, extending your index finger.

“One: you only kissed my lips. You know, there are other parts of me to kiss, like, I don’t know, my neck, my arms, my shoulders.”

You extend another finger. “And, two: it’s weird to not help someone take off their clothes. Like you’re in a super rush to get somewhere or something—”

“We’re fucking!” he cuts in sharply. “This is a one-night stand, not a relationship.”

Closing your eyes and dropping your head, you pinch the bridge of your nose. You sigh in exaggeration.

“Thought we agreed no rebuttals...” you softly sing-say.

Jaemin’s head sinks a little into his blanket. “Sorry.”

Removing your hand, you shrug. “Maybe there’s some rule that I don’t know about one-night stands, so this could be on me.”

You start to aimlessly tread back and forth in front of him, dragging the blanket along too. “But fuck, foreplay is foreplay for a reason. You work your way up to the heat of the moment and it makes sex much better, regardless if you’re in a relationship with the person or not.”

“Next point.” You stop walking and direct your focus on him. Pointing your finger and looking him dead in the eye, you ask, “Do you know what a vagina is?”

He snorts with a simper. “Uhhh, is this a rhetorical question?”

“No, I’m legit asking,” you say with a raised eyebrow and snarky smile. “Because when you went down on me, all you flicked your tongue at was the outside of it, also called the labia if you didn’t know.”

“I’m premed, of course I—”

“Which is great! But you didn’t go any deeper nor did you go near my clit.”

You thrust your finger again. “Do you also know what that is?”

“Yes...” he groans with the flickering eyelids.

You swipe your arm through the air. “Maybe make use of it, and not only when you go down on girls. Even during sex, touching it is great.”

“And lastly,” you continue. “I’ll be honest here, you have a decent dick.”

Jaemin waggles his finger. “So you were lying before—”

“I wasn’t lying,” you retort firmly. “But anyways, you’ve got the stuff, but why don’t you put it to better use?”

With the following words, you attempt to gesture with your body and execute moves as graphic visuals. Jaemin giggles at the sight.

“Vary the speeds and the angle, don’t just slam it in me and go crazy fast from the get-go. Build up to the climax. Jesus, I couldn’t even get close to coming because you’re like a jackhammer from start to finish.”

When you finally finish, Jaemin’s giggles morph into hollow laughs. Frustration is blatant on your face, pondering if he even absorbed a single word you said.

After he calms down, he asks, “Are you done?”

You mumble, “Yeah, I think so.”

The two of you switch places. He shuffles onto his feet with his blanket while you sit back on the couch.

Jaemin pulls the blanket across the floor as he ambles. “Okay, your head game is decent—”

“Excuse you, my head game is strong.”

“Uh-uh, rebuttal,” he points out.

You sigh. Pinching your fingers together, you drag the invisible zipper across your mouth, then wave your hand, allowing him to resume.

“Your head game is decent. You definitely can deepthroat, but—” He mirrors you from before and extends his index finger.

“One: this happened only a few times, but your teeth scraped against my dick, which is why I assumed you were a borderline virgin.”

You fume silently at the accusation, attempting to not speak up with a heap of rebuttals. But he wasn’t wrong—if you teethed on his dick, that’s a classic virgin move.

“But that’s okay, because we already established that you’re just rusty.” Jaemin flashes you a fake comforting smile as he continues to pace. You flash him one back.

“And two—” He holds another finger out. “Don’t be scared to use your hands and stroke me. Give my dick some love. If it’s too wet, just wipe your hands on the bed or something.”

“Okay, duly noted,” you hum. “Next.”

“Don’t be scared to touch me.”

“I touched you so much during—”

He shoots you a glare. You roll your mouth inward, your lips disappearing instantly.

“Your hands were mostly on the sheets, which is hot, but guys like to be felt up too.”

The attractive individual peers up for a second, thinking to himself. “Even hotter when a girl feels herself up during the fucking, but that’s beside the point. Baby steps, just remember to touch the other person.”

Jaemin does a full-stop and faces you.

“And just... don’t fake it.” Distress is evident in his pout. You hate to admit it, but it’s a little cute. He raises an arm and jerks it in the air. “Why do girls fake it?”

“Because guys with egos like you can’t handle criticism,” you reply bluntly.

“What are we doing, having this conversation, hm?”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if it didn’t snow in and keep us here together.” You peel a hand away and gesture to the window. “If I walked out of here this morning, you would’ve just fucked the next girl the same.”

He defends himself, “Faking it just feeds our egos.”

“Yeah, well, if I told you afterwards that I didn’t come, what would you do?”

“Try to make you come in other ways?”

Shaking your head, you scoff. “Guys like you aren’t that considerate.”

“You’re right.” He assents, holding his pointer finger against his chest. “Because guys like me aim to please.”

A brilliant thought leaps in his mind and Jaemin gasps. You can only assume bad things from the wicked smile he sends your way.

“Why don’t we try it again?”

Perplexed, you squint at him.

“Try what again...?”

“Sex,” he says enthusiastically.

You blankly stare at him.

“You’ve gotta be joking,” you deadpan.

“I mean, there’s nothing else to do and it’ll keep us warm.”

You continue to stare at him until you groan.

“Oh, my God...” Your blanket droops a bit off your shoulders as you drag your palms across your face. “I cannot believe I’m stuck in this snowstorm with you out of all people...”

Sitting next to you, Jaemin persistently reasons with you. “Think of it also as another learning experience for the future partners we’ll have.”

“Yeah, if we don’t die first!” you shriek.

“We’re not going to die,” Jaemin replies in a mocking tone and a dart of his tongue.

Outside the window, the snow seems to have slowed down, but not by much.

God, Jaemin better be fucking right because you want to live to see another day.

“Fine,” you mutter and match his gaze. “But we have to be vocal throughout the whole thing. Say whatever’s on our mind.”

“Fine,” he agrees to your terms. He produces the same wicked smile again. “But can we film it then? So we can study it after?”

You fire him a death glare that melts his face off, even in the frigid atmosphere.

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he says, waving his hand.

They say that jokes are half-meant true, but you think Jaemin fully meant it. Still in your blanket jackets, Jaemin snags your free hand and leads you to his room.

“You gotta give me credit for trying, though.”

“No.” You shake your head with an unwilling smile creeping on the edge of your lips. On second thought, maybe the joke was a little funny, but you still stand by your opinion that he’s the most annoying person in the world. “I don’t think I will.”

“Thank God Chenle has so many scented candles...”

On the edge of Jaemin’s bed, huddled by the blanket, you watch him light up several large jars, placing them on his nightstand and desk in hopes to brighten the room. It’s already late afternoon, but one could mistaken it for nighttime with the muddy sky due to the snow.

“Is Chenle your roommate?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin answers with a slight shiver, igniting the last candle near the bedside. He removed his blanket when he went to nab the matches and candles. “His girlfriend gets free ones from work, so she always gives him a shit ton, even though he never uses them.”

With a glowing hue against his face, he blows out the match. He makes his way to you, a cocky grin plastered on him, as he says, “Guess we’re making use of them now, though.”

Before you can even respond, Jaemin gets right down to business—sitting beside you on the mattress, he palms your face and drags you in for a kiss. You softly yelp, but immediately reciprocate.

The cover falls off your body as you reach to touch him, fingers drifting over his solid arms.

You don’t want to stroke his large ego, and maybe it’s because you haven’t had anyone else on you in a while, but Jaemin’s kisses are something else.

The cushiony pair of lips always executes enough pressure against your mouth, increasing and decreasing on command in perfect tandem and timing. His hands hover over your waist and the nape of your neck, fingers sinking into your hot skin.

His mouth trails downward the side of your neck. You crane your head back, indulging in his caresses as soft moans trickle out.

He gently signals for you to recline back and lay onto the mattress, moving the sea of blankets aside. Inclined on his elbow, almost atop of you, his cool fingers glide under your top layers, his thumb stroking against your stomach.

Pulling away from your body, he tugs on the ends of your clothes. You rise from the bed to better the angle for him to discard of them.

The hairs on your skin are standing on end from the frigid air, but you’re too focused on Jaemin’s mouth migrating over your upper arm and your bra-covered chest to care. Without notice, he stuffs a cup of the bra to one side and takes your bosom into his mouth.

Air’s seized from your lungs and your core contracts from the pleasure. Your fingers tug on Jaemin’s luscious locks and his free hand squeezes your unoccupied breast.

After a few twirls of his tongue and a gentle drawing of his teeth on the pointed tip, he mumbles hotly into your chest while he thumbs your other nipple, “Foreplay still non-existent?”

“It’s better, I guess,” you sigh with fluttering eyes. His chuckling reverberates against your cleavage, a sign of amusement from your obstinacy. A gasp pierces the room as Jaemin repeats his actions onto the other breast.

He aids you in taking off the rest of your clothes and, obviously aware of your goosebumps and shuddering, tells you to get underneath the blankets while he strips himself.

Under the toasty ocean of layers, despite how both of you are bare-boned and how easy it is to jump into the main act, Jaemin purposefully continues to prolong the foreplay. Side by side, your lips meld endlessly; your legs and hands are intertwined in an amorous pretzel.

Jaemin ensures he doesn’t leave any part of you untouched—the pads of fingers virtually graze over every inch of your body. Each grip and drag of his digits sends you in a frenzy. Your chest is pressed into him and your eyes are blinded with desire.

In the back of your mind, you think about how you were right about foreplay working up to the heat of the moment—literally, because you’re dripping, he’s hard, and you two have embraced so much that you don’t need the blankets anymore.

On the other hand, you wonder if Jaemin was right about skipping foreplay, because with every whisper of each other’s name, the intimacy rises immensely. You don’t know him, and neither him with you, but you’re both freely drowning in one another in a plane beyond the lust.

Although the room’s beginning to smell of a mix of all the scented candles, Jaemin hones in and drinks in your sweet aroma and your entirety behind his hazy eyes and already tousled hair. All of a sudden, one drag of his fingers over a particular sensitive spot on your body makes you giggle.

“I’m ticklish over there.”

“You mean right—” He drums his fingers over the area again. “—here?”

With a toothy grin, he generates more suffering from you and you begin to lively howl. Soon enough, you beg him to stop.

“You’re such an asshat, c’mon, let me live!”

When he ceases, his head hangs over yours and your gazes connect.

The same feeling blooms in his chest from before in the living room.

He gulps as his eyes waver over your face, unknowingly tracing your beautiful features and etching them into his memory.

Your starry eyes. Your glowing aura. Your everything.

You barely register the change in his expression because he quickly tramples on his moment of weakness by kissing you passionately.

Jaemin whips the blankets aside as he lowers himself between your legs. Your eyes are fixated on him, matching his stare, until he starts to devour you by swiping against your lustrous folds. Your back bows, and, following a few more licks, Jaemin makes a point of his knowledge of the vagina by spreading your lips and ravishing your pussy, tongue penetrating deeply.

Rippled moans release in harmony with your undulating chest. You swear you’re getting more wet, too wet, likely making it overwhelming for Jaemin, but he’s eagerly lapping every drop up.

“How’s that?” he inquires with a grin, hovering over your trembling nether lips. His mouth is evidently glossy, even under the dim lighting.

“Good,” you pant in the most nonchalant tone you can muster up. “Very good-ahhh—”

Jaemin kindly interrupts you by tonguing your clit as he fingers your sex deeply, shattering your fake indifference.

“Move your tongue up more,” you direct, creasing your eyebrows in despair. He follows your direction, and droning moans ensue.

Jaemin’s immersed in your pleasure, but also adding to his own. The more he laps up your wetness, the more he grinds his length against the bed, aching to be inside of you.

Your desire pulses faster, contracting tighter against his fingers, body winding tensely by the second.

“Fuck, Jaemin,” you whine, leaning your head to one side with a parted mouth. “I’m close.”

He draws back and temporarily replaces his tongue with his thumb.

“Good,” he pants, cocking his head to one side. His eyes are filled with determination. “Because I’m not stopping until you come at least two more times tonight.”

You exhale a light laugh. “That’s ambiti-ohgodohgod—”

His tongue works wonders on your clit once more, so much that he has to brace your bucking hips.

Okay, maybe Jaemin did learn a thing or two and actually listened to what you said during your critique.

But now it’s time to demonstrate to him what you’ve learned.

You don’t need much of a break to catch your breath, nor do you want to immediately freeze due to inactivity, so you pull Jaemin in for an intense kiss, tongue dipping into the remnants of your own nectar, then beckon for him to take your former place on the bed.

Perched on the bottom of your feet, you’re on one side of Jaemin, lackadaisically fisting his prominence. After a few strokes, you gradually swallow his inches, keeping in mind to relax your jaw and to not rush in order to avoid any potential teething. You do this to prove yourself worthy of giving head, but also in spite, because you absolutely do not need Jaemin to brand you a virgin again.

You read his quiet groans and his long fingers running lazily through your hair as a positive sign and advance further.

Carefully, you rest your tongue beneath the underside of his cock and bob your head, licking him until he’s sopping with your saliva. His grip in your hair grows in strength as his length reaches the end of your throat, his groans becoming more and more drawn-out.

A needy whimper leaves him as you suddenly withdraw. Dribbles of your spit follow, and you wipe it off with the back of your hand.

“How am I doing?” you glow in a pant, lazily stroking the doused shaft.

He simply nods with half-lidded eyes, barely able to look at you. “Yeah.”

You snicker at him in his breathless position, a prickle of pride running through your spine over the fact that you blew his mind as much as you blew his dick.

“Use your words, Jaemin.”

Teasingly, your fingers curl around his blunt head, soothing the sensitive tip and sending jolts throughout him.

“Fuck—” he pulls his bottom lip upward. “Awesome. You’re doing awesome.”

“Anything to critique?”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head restlessly. You revel a bit more in having the upper hand on him a little while longer. You grip him tighter and hasten your speed, leaving him gasping for air.

“Am I still rusty?”

“Nope, nope,” he croaks, voice rising to a whine. “Definitely not rusty.”

“You sure?” His cockiness has transferred over to you.

“Yes, yes—fuck, slow down, please,” Jaemin begs.

Granting his wish, you abate your rhythm and free his inches from your touch.

You wipe your hands on the sides of the bed while Jaemin rummages through the drawer of his nightstand and hastily rolls over the rubber over himself before he prepares to enter the body beneath his.

Recalling your advice, Jaemin mindfully starts off slow. You sigh blissfully in sync to his thrusts. He adjust himself, attempting another angle, and you draw in air between your teeth.

“There, there—“

Jaemin’s quick-witted and keeps at it, plunging a bit more vigorously. Out of habit, your hands grasp onto the bedsheets, but you wittingly attach them to his frame. Hands grazing his neck, his firm pecs, and his taut muscles.

“Touch-touch my stomach,” he orders in a hush.

You hands follow through and feel up the flexed valley of his abs. Feeling up evolves into desperate gripping and even the slight dragging of your nails.

“Your abs are so fucking hot,” you state thoughtlessly, eyes eating up the view alongside his cock disappearing in and out of you. “Jesus, fuck.”

“Yeah?” he rasps with that devilish smirk of his. God, you want to smack it off him, but not right now—not when you’re reaching euphoria. “You’re not just saying that?”

Oh, you’ve definitely stroked his ego now, but there’s no turning back. Truth spills from you on a whim.

“You’re a fucking masterpiece,” you gasp acutely.

You’re starting to wither away, yet, as if they have a life of their own, your hands drift away from him and find a new home atop your breasts.

“You make me feel so good, Jaemin...”

Jaemin’s eyes go wide. His mouth hangs at the lewdness of you touching yourself.

“Fuck, holy shit.”

His gaze doesn’t leave your ecstatic face or humming body for a second as you knead your breasts and tweak your nipples between your fingers. Your back arches further when Jaemin deepens his sweet, fulfilling thrusts. He’s holding himself back, not wanting to end this beautiful deed just yet.

The stimulation bursts over your body, both from your own doing and Jaemin’s.

You plead, “Faster, please, faster.”

And he complies, but he also rubs your bundle of nerves, causing a tight knot in you to build up and your shallow moans transform into heavy screams. You clasp onto his back and claw at the protruding shoulder blades.

“I’m-I’m—”

You clench, both with your core and your nails digging into him, but Jaemin’s unrelenting, capturing your second peak for the evening.

Instead of coming after you, he shockingly veers lower and closer to you and curbs his pace.

“Was that real?”

You respond with an exhausted nod. Oddly, the smile he shows this time isn’t arrogant, but warm and teetering the line of tenderness. His lips fuse with yours before they stray towards your neck. The passion stews as he sucks your tits, all the while lunging laxly into you.

With an obscene pop!, Jaemin removes himself from your nubs.

“Ready for the last round?”

His fast thrusts, hitting you precisely in the best spot, cloud your already weakened logic, deterring you from making any response.

Perspiration is blatant on both individuals. For him, his forehead glistens gorgeously with his damp hair. For you, the back of your bent knees are gluing together. Your bodies are about to pass out, but you both persevere until the end.

As you convulse and perish together in beautiful agony, coincidentally enough, the bulbs in the room and in the streets leap to radiance.

Together, you collapse onto the bed side by side, panting heavily and laughing.

“Told you we weren’t going to die.”

You turn your head to see Jaemin looking at you with a cheeky grin. In retaliation, you stick your tongue out.

By nighttime, it’s finally stopped snowing outside. However, the streets won’t be cleared until morning, at the very least.

But... you’re surprisingly okay with that.

In a turn of events, the sex inexplicably makes the two of you warm up to each other. There still is targeted banter and tension between you, lingering from before, but it’s less hostile and more playful.

During a fancy Christmas Eve dinner of microwavable pizzas, you poke fun at each other’s majors and discuss your respective hobbies in depth, especially his love for photography. Jaemin even asks if he can take a picture of you, claiming that the kitchen lighting actually looks nice on someone for once.

“Is that how you collect the memory of your one-night stands? Instead of hanging their skins in your closet, you sweet-talk your way and keep all the photos of them?” you joke, referring to the video call from yesterday night. It feels like an eternity ago, but snowstorms tend to do that.

He chuckles behind the camera as he snaps a photo of you scrunching your face cutely.

“Yeah, but you’re the first one who has clothes on,” he says, glancing down at the photo on the camera roll.

“Ugh, gross,” you cringe and take a sip of tea.

Jaemin doesn’t add anything further. He leaves out the fact that he never keeps any traces of his one-night stands, that you’re the first girl he’s taken a picture of in a while.

After a few hours of more talking and even some gaming with one another, sleep is much needed. Jaemin offers an extra toothbrush and a sweater and pair of sweats to sleep in. You’re facing each other on his bed, noses almost touching.

“It’s been a while since I haven’t had sex with a girl before I slept next to them,” he whispers, adjusting himself comfortably. The side of his face rests on his piled hands. “It’s kinda nice.”

You cover your mouth as you yawn, then lay your hand back under your head, reflecting the same position as Jaemin.

“You know, it might be my sleepiness talking, but maybe you’re not the worst person in the world to be stuck with during a snowstorm.”

A lovely chuckle echoes in your ear. “I’m glad you’ve had a change of heart.”

After a few moments, your eyes are fluttering to a close until he softly calls out your name.

“Hm?” you stir awake, but not by much.

“Do you...?”

Jaemin doesn’t know what’s gotten to him, doesn’t quite understand why the defences he built for so long are crumbling down in only a day of knowing you.

And yet, something urges him to give it a chance.

Blowing out a shaky sigh, he anxiously intertwines his fingers with yours. You hum softly at the action and a small smile blooms on your face.

“Do you want to go on a date with me sometime?”

“Hm?” His question doesn’t take you aback as much as you would be if you were fully awake. But even in your drowsy state, you have quips in hand. “Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, wants to go on a date?”

“Yeah,” he replies gently, brushing your loose hair out of your face.

Another yawn. “I thought you said you don’t want feelings and relationships and all that shit.”

His fingers trace your pretty jawline and shrugs. “One date doesn’t mean we’re going to be in a relationship, I’m sure you know that.”

You pause for a good two seconds, but the two seconds feel like forever for Jaemin.

“Mmm, fine. One date, just one.” You barely hold up your pointer finger. “And only because it’s Christmas tomorrow. ‘Tis the season to be giving...”

Relief washes over Jaemin in the form of a smile. Embracing the blatant feeling in his chest this time, he plants a light kiss on your nose and wishes you sweet dreams, even though you’ve already fallen soundly asleep.

Sunlight pours over your eyes on Christmas morning.

Déjà vu peculiarly creeps up on you, but the only thing that’s the same as yesterday is waking up in Jaemin’s bed.

He’s next to you this time, deep in his peaceful slumber, instead of waiting for you to leave by his doorframe. The snow has finally stopped, and you think you hear the faint noises of snow plows outside. You inhale deeply and also notice the faded aroma from all the scented candles from last night.

The scenes of yesterday flicker across your mind. The incredible sex. The talking. The dinner. The interlocking of his fingers with yours.

The date he asked you out on.

You stare at him, watching him sleep with a sense of content.

Turning your body, you routinely check your phone, which is charging beside his. You have a slew of Merry Christmas texts from several chats and a few private messages from your friends.

Your attention falls on Jaemin’s phone when it lights up with a notification, likely texts from his friends and family too.

But that’s not what you’re focusing on.

Your heart sinks at the sight of his lockscreen.

It’s a picture of him and a girl kissing.

A twinge emerges in your chest and twists harder and harder.

Jaemin being a fuckboy, you can respect. People can do whatever they want with their lives.

But to cheat?

That’s unforgivable, and a true sin if there ever was one.

You scramble to dash out of there, careful not to make any noises in fear of waking Jaemin up. However, Jaemin’s sensitive to the sounds of the front door, so he rouses awake. His eyes flit open, noticing how you’re gone. He then sees his phone blowing up and adds two and two together.

With his phone in hand, Jaemin rushes to get on a coat and stuffs his feet into his boots, not giving a shit that he’s wearing his thin pajamas in the coldness. He’s bounding down the flight of stairs and onto the bright, white wonderland of the streets.

He swivels his head and catches sight of you almost past down the block, slowly trekking through the thick snow. Jaemin sprints, as much as he can, and hops towards you.

He yells your name, making others on the street turn, but you don’t. You continue forward without looking back.

“Wait! I can explain!”

You’re trying to gain speed, but cardio isn’t your friend. Thankfully for Jaemin, it’s a close friend for him.

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it, Jaemin,” you grunt, hearing the rapid crunching of his shoes coming closer. “Get lost.”

“No, listen to me for a second.”

The boyish man grasps you by the arm and turns you around. You throw his arm away from you and he holds his hands in the air, letting you know that he respects your space. He drops his hands and sees that you’re seething, even worse than you were when he kicked you out yesterday.

“How are you going to explain your lockscreen with you kissing your fucking girlfriend?! Hm?”

“Ex,” he pants in clarification. “Ex-girlfriend.”

Your eyebrows mesh together in utter confusion.

“Okay? That doesn’t make me feel any better, knowing that you’re still hung up on your ex.”

Jaemin shakes his head and rakes a hand through his hair. You note the large clouds he exhales and how he’s barely wearing any clothes. A tinge of sympathy passes through you, wanting to give him some of your clothes for extra layers, but you smother that quickly in your state of rage.

“I’m not hung up on her. Remember you asked me yesterday why I don’t want girls to stay the next morning?”

You cock your head impatiently, as if saying, “Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t want to attach myself to girls. I can’t. I...”

He lowers his head to one side. Shutting his eyes, a long puff emits from his mouth.

“She cheated on me.”

The snow plows in the distance can’t compare to the pumping of your heart in your ears. All the feelings you felt in the last day, but especially in the last fifteen minutes, jumble together in your head, making you feel uneasy and unsure of what to exactly feel or comprehend of the situation.

But you do know one thing, despite the fact that you two barely know each other, the pained look on his face is real—that this is the untold story behind his ways.

Jaemin lifts his head and holds out his phone for emphasis. “The lockscreen serves as a constant reminder that dating and feelings will and can fuck me up.”

Carefully, he steps a little closer to you and slowly cups your face in his shaking hands. You don’t pull away nor is there the same anger from moments before, so he daintily runs his thumbs over your cheeks.

“Until you showed me yesterday that maybe I’m willing to give it all another shot. Risk it all for fuck knows what, but you make it look like it’s worth it.”

He continues his ramble after adjusting some of your hair from the ongoing breeze.

“Sure, it’s Christmas today, but I don’t want you to say yes to going on a date with me just because it is. I want you to say yes because maybe you like spending time with me just as much as I like to spend it with you.”

You’re completely disoriented—your eyes are shifting everywhere but his eyes and your lips are quivering with no words coming out. He sighs understandingly.

“Look, I know you’re probably having second thoughts and you don’t have to give me an answer right now. Think on it for as much time as you need, but I want you to know that I genuinely like you and I want to go on an actual date with you.”

He peels his hand away from your face and raises it into the air as if taking an oath.

“I, Na Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, will devote to monogamy once again if it means I can date you.”

His hands grab yours, kisses the back of them, and then he presses one kiss onto your icy cheek prior to walking away.

“Merry Christmas,” he says with a sad smile. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

Later that evening at your large family’s Christmas party, you take another dreadful gulp of your wine.

It’s the happy holiday season, but why does everyone feel the need to stick their nose in your dating life? Well, really, a lack there of.

“Why are you still single?” Layers of their voices resound the same question in your head. You take another swig.

Potential unsaid answers that you kept to yourself fly around as you swish the drink in your glass.

Because you choose to be.

Okay, not really, but it’s the easiest answer.

Because you haven’t found the right guy to get you back in the game.

What does that even mean? What makes the right guy even right?

The right guy? It’s someone who makes you laugh, someone who gives as good as they can take it, someone who wants you just as much as you do.

The cogs move in your head as you take one more sip before you finally come to the conclusion—

Because you didn’t find the right guy until last night.

Despite the mess of today and yesterday morning, you realize that Jaemin is... actually sort of sweet. Annoying, yes, but he keeps you on your toes. It’s a plus that he’s easy on the eyes, but it’s a bigger plus that he’s even easier to talk to.

And if he can find it in his scorched heart to trust you, you can find it in your heart to trust him too.

You quickly say your good-byes to your family and let them know you have other plans with friends tonight.

As the Uber rolls up to his apartment building, you realize you probably should’ve messaged him on Tinder, but it’s worth a shot to see if he’s home. Anyways, impulsiveness is a controlling entity, as evident from your Christmas Eve Eve’s adventure.

And in retrospect, perhaps Jaemin was the perfect pick of the crop after all.

Someone’s entering the building and lets you in behind them. You take the stairs two at a time and hear booming music coming from his floor. At first, you assume it’s from other apartments, but it’s all coming from one—his.

Without a thought, your knuckle taps the door.

A handsome figure that’s definitely not Jaemin opens the door. Behind him, you see a group of young men scattered around the living room, and some have a few girls tucked under their arms.

The man eyes you up and down with a spark in his eye. He’s not Jaemin, but he surely reminds you of him.

“And who might you be?” he asks.

“Who’s at the door, Jeno?” An unknown male voice hollers in a high pitch from the couch. He’s one of the guys with a girl attached to him.

You blink. “Uhm, I’m—”

“She’s with me!” Jaemin shoves the flirty stranger aside and tugs you by your wrist, making headway to his bedroom. He flips the light switch on and the door clicks shut.

“What are you doing h—”

You cut him off with a kiss.

An innocent one, at first, with hints of alcohol on each other’s lips. Your arms wrap around the other and the passion increases with the mingling of your tongues, each party tasting and confirming the specific drinks you both consumed tonight.

Jaemin forces himself to pull away and presses his forehead against yours. “Did you just come all the way here to kiss me, or...?”

“Maybe I came over to ask... if I can stay with you for another night?” you playfully ask, fingers intertwining behind the nape of his neck.

He chuckles heartily. His fingers sink into the sides of your waist. “Is my dick that great? The sex with me that amazing?”

“Mmm, that’s definitely a benefit,” you agree, fluttering your nose against his. “But I want more than that—“ You poke a finger to his chest. “—I want the man behind the dick.”

Your gazes converge, bringing you together as one.

“I want to go on that date with you. I want you, Jaemin.”

He flashes a megawatt smile that could compete with a million Christmas lights, but it fades suddenly and you’re unsure why he seems like he’s about to bawl his eyes out.

“That’s so beautiful, I might cry.” He brings a finger to his eye, pretending to shed a tear.

Oh, yeah—you’re definitely going to need to hire someone to constantly shove your eyeballs back into your sockets if you’re going to date Jaemin.

“Oh, shut up,” you whisper, yanking him in for another kiss.

Three dates later, including a memorable New Year’s Eve, you finally decide to rid of the Tinder app for good.

With his arm around you on his living room couch, Jaemin glances over your shoulder.

“Really? You’re finally deleting your Tinder?”

You snort in disbelief. “That’s gold, coming from the King of Tinder himself. When did you delete?”

He turns to face the television and shrugs coolly.

“Maybe I didn’t.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” you nod, eyes still on your phone.

“Nah, I’m kidding, I did.”

You sharply turn your head.

“No way. When?” you press with narrow eyes.

A shy smile emerges on Jaemin’s face as he picks his pants over his thighs.

“On the night of Christmas Eve, after you agreed to go on a date with me.”

7K notes · View notes

cipheress-to-k-pop · 3 years

Text

A Sister's Love

Pairing: Platonic Damian Wayne x Al Ghul!Reader

Warnings: Injuries and blood. Drugging, Trafficking and sexual assult but these are not the main themes.

Word Count: 4.9K

Summary: You realize you have a lot to learn about yourself outside of your little brother, Damian's, shadow.

A/N: Was originally gonna make this a Dick Grayson x Reader but realized it would be weird cuz of mixed families and stuff. And I don't wanna be pushing the boundaries of incest.

Growing up in the League of Assassins meant a lot of things for you. It meant that you were raised to be powerful and commanding. It meant you knew how to kill a man in 47 different ways and counting. It meant that you were raised to rightfully think that you were the best.

Although for every good thing there was always cons. Your schedule was rigid and your peers were unfeeling. Your mother most of all, but that didn't stop you from trying to win her affection. It was the reason why when your little brother was born you felt threatened.

That was until you met little Damian. Your mother had handed him to you with a smile of pride that she never showed you and you hated him. But then you saw his precious little face, a nose tinier than a button and adorable lips that were curled into a pout. He was so beautiful.

Since then, you put any differences you might have had with your mother behind you. According to Ra’s it would have been a mistake to show Damian such tenderness, to teach him about loyalty to your heart, instead of without it.

But Talia couldn't ignore the tug she felt in her heart seeing you and Damian together. You still worked hard, harder than she had ever seen before, now determined not to show that you were weak and have them take your brother from you. Damian followed your example, training to her approval, however taxing it was for him.

And more importantly, Damian loved you. You were the first woman he had ever loved and he was smart enough to know that would never be a mistake. You were his shelter in a storm, his fire in the cold. You were the best sibling that anyone could ever even dream of.

But then you had to part. At age 10, Damian went to live with his father, Bruce Wayne. You had never met the man when he was with your mother and you assumed you wouldn't need to, he wasn't your father.

Both you and Damian didn't want to leave each other. You'd miss your little brother and you'd miss the feeling in your chest whenever you'd look at him. Damian would miss home; he would miss your presence and he would miss the familiarity. But he couldn't stay.

That's something you learnt at the League. Damian couldn't stay, with you. He was meant for bigger things than you.

Another thing you learnt was that you didn't have to stay either. You wanted to see the world, see what everything else had in store for you. And your mother, bless her, gave you her blessing.

Of all the things the league taught you, there were things they missed out on. And a part of you was thankful for that. Because you enjoyed the feeling of wide-eyed wonderment when you stepped into a train station for the first time ever.

You had never tasted a chocolate muffin before, you realized as you stuffed your face at a local bakery. Coffee and chocolate muffins went well together. You liked sweet things better than spicy things, you noted when you didn't enjoy the tteokbokki you bought at a Korean food stall.

People were kind, not foolish. They smiled at you when you came in and genuinely asked you where you were headed. Like the woman you met on the tram who was heading to Washington DC. Even through the short ride, the two of you had bonded and she had left you with her phone number and a promise that if you were ever in DC, you would ring her up. Diana was trusting, too trusting. You could have assumed it was because she was stupid, but you wanted to believe it was because she was smarter than even you.

Some people were kind like her but of course, some were impolite and pig-headed. You of course didn't waste any time putting them in their place. Maybe that was why you shouldn't have any faith in humanity.

But isn't humanity just the thing you should be putting faith in?

It was fun at first, discovering new things, seeing how people really lived outside of books and things taught to you back at the League. You knew everything, you weren't naive enough to be oblivious but reading about something was miles apart from actually experiencing it.

After a while however, you got lonely, it was a huge world with people constantly moving and you've come to realize that unless you're with somebody, you can't really move from your place. Instead, you'd be stuck watching all of them. So, you sought after your brother.

It was easy enough to track Bruce Wayne, he lived in a house large enough to be seen from outer space. Getting to Gotham took longer than you expected. Time passed so easily when you didn't have a purpose but now that you had somewhere you needed to be, the train couldn't go any slower.

Gotham City was less gloomy than people made it out to be. The sun was shining and the city was bustling. In some ways, it seemed a little homey. Maybe that was because you didn't have to worry about someone hurting you. If anything, they should pray that they don't choose you as their next victim.

Of course, you could've gone to Wayne Manor and introduced yourself civilly but you wanted to see Damian more than anything and didn't want to delay it any longer. And more than that, you wanted to see Damian is his cute little school uniform.

That's what led you to wait outside of the well-reputed Gotham University, waiting patiently for the bell to ring and students to file out of it. You already knew that they wouldn't come out singing like in the movies but a very small fraction of you still hoped.

Your heartrate increased with every passing minute, excited to meet your brother after nearly a year of being apart. Eventually, the bell did ring and students began trickling out of the doors, looking like bumble bees, excitedly zipping around and talking to their friends.

'Would this have been my life if I was never born in the League?' You wondered, looking at a girl who was animatedly chatting with her friend, arms interlocked as they moved towards the parking lot where their parents were waiting.

When you finally saw Damian, you suddenly felt out of place. Like an outsider watching someone else's brother when you saw his eyes lock onto someone in the commons. Even though you weren't on the school campus, you could still recognize who it was.

Richard Grayson, oldest son of Bruce Wayne, waiting to pick up your little brother on a motor cycle.

And for the first time in your life, you experienced insecurity, watching them greet each other like brothers. The feeling was sour and you wondered if it was a mistake coming here, thinking that you still had a place here.

It was true, people didn't move from their place unless they had someone to go with. You hadn't felt fulfilled like that since your brother stopped being at your side. He was everything you knew. It was just your mistake for thinking that in the year apart your brother wouldn't have found anyone either.

***

"Drake, pull up the security cameras from today at my school parking lot." Damian ordered, stepping into the Batcave.

"No 'Hello', no 'How you doing?', it's always 'Tim, do this' 'Drake, do that'," Tim commented sarcastically but still pulled up whatever he needed, "And then as soon as I give you what I want, you're going to forget me again. And not even visit the kids."

Dick spared him a laugh at his dramatic scene, ruffling his hair as greeting and then turned his attention to the screen. The footage was played at double the speed until Damian's eyes locked onto just what he wanted to find.

It was just for a second, when Dick's motorcycle had zoomed past but that was all he needed. Damian had seen your face and it wasn't any mistake, he'd know you even if he was blind. Even though he was so sure it had been you, he still couldn't hide the way his body froze, eyes wide when he saw your face.

It was the same face he'd see every night before he went to bed and the very first person he wanted to see every time he woke up. Your image was what came into his mind when he thought of being nurtured, when he thought of being safe.

There was a time when he was younger, too young, there was a thunder storm. He doesn't remember much from the night, just hiding his face against your chest and you wrapping a blanket around him. His mother trained him even harder the next day, until he almost dropped but he'd never forget curling up to your warmth. Not even now, when he knew that thunder storms were the least of his fears.

It was as simple as that. With his father and brothers, he didn't have to worry about looking weak, he didn't think of love as a weakness, rather he considered it as the fuel behind strength. Yes, his father taught him well. And now he would show you just how much he's grown. So, you can be proud of him.

"We need to find her."

"Why? Who is she?"

"My sister."

***

Of all the things you wanted to experience, visiting a bar was one of them. Was the air really enough to intoxicate you? Were you really going to lose all sense when you stepped into it? Would be able to drink your troubles away?

You were sorely disappointed. The alcohol didn't taste good, it burned when you swallowed it and made your tongue feel fuzzy. The music was so loud that your brain began throbbing against your skull to the beat of the song.

Men were picking fights and women were having fun but even then, you couldn't find it in yourself to get up and actually have fun. I mean, how were you supposed to? How was cosying up against a drunk man supposed to make you feel better? How was getting lost in throngs of sweaty people who didn't know what personal space was meant to improve your mood?

If anything, it just reminded you of just how pathetic your life was.

You were realizing you had no purpose. Damian was all you had known for years now, knowing only to protect him with your life and love him with your heart. Who were you without him? What did you like? What made you happy outside from your duty at the league?

A man knocking into you brought you out of your thoughts, which had been happening all night. Except this man stopped in front of you and gave you a smile that turned your stomach upside down.

"Sorry about that pretty lady, let me buy you a drink to make up for it." He spoke with a voice that was trying to be smooth but instead sounded like metal scraping over each other.

"No, thank you." You said sharply, not yet done with your Manhattan anyway. You were barely enjoying your time here as it was and you were sure another drink wouldn't change your mind.

"Not a fan?"

You shook your head at him, choosing to humour the man.

"Then let me buy you another one, if you don't like it then you have nothing to lose."

You pretended to giggle at him and he swelled with pride. Did he think he was winning?

"One Boulevardier." He told the bartender who nodded and began preparing the drink. Until it was ready, you indulged the man in front of you who reeked of cigarettes and alcohol.

He placed the drink in front of you and if you hadn't known that it would burn going down and turn you into a shell of yourself, you might have been curious to what it tasted like.

"You see that dude over there?" He nodded to a man standing in the other corner of the bar and you turned to look at him. Another man, covered in tattoos who didn't look any different than the one standing behind you.

"He's my pal, owns the bar. Ask him and he'll hook you up with free drinks tonight. For a price, of course."

You turned back around to face the man and out of the corner of your eye saw something dissolve into your drink. It was only for a second but you saw the last remaining grains turn invisible and you definitely noticed the way the once steady drink was now swirling into a vortex in the middle.

"Drink up, princess."

You smirked. Tonight, might be fun after all.

***

This was boring.

You had been pretending to be unconscious for about 40 minutes while these men drove you to some undisclosed location. Their conversations were unbelievably dry and it's not like you had anyone else to talk to. Everyone else who might have been even mildly interesting were knocked unconscious.

Eventually they pulled up to some sort of holding facility and if your assumptions were correct then this would be a midpoint before they sold all the girls here to some sort of pimp.

Once they lugged you off the truck and threw you into a room with so many other people, you could hear their breathing did you open your eyes. It seemed like this was some sort of abandoned butcher or meat factory, judging by the ominous hooks hanging above your head and the metal walls. The door had been bolted shut, the only way to look through it was a small glass window.

Only after you finished taking in your surroundings did you even look at the other women who had been trapped in the room along with you. Your stomach turned.

There were so many unsuspecting faces who looked like they didn't sign up for this. Half of them looked under the influence of something, sweating profusely even in their sleep, faces scrunched up in pain. The other looked like they were forcibly taken, bruises covering their skin, hair and clothes in disarray and more than half of them had either a black eye or a swollen lip.

Maybe it was their fault for not being trained, that's what someone at the league would've said. But isn't it their captors’ fault for misusing their training, their strength, for something as vile as this?

You decided to wait, you couldn't assume that this small group of girls was the only one in the confines of the building. How many more were here?

You weren't feeling overwhelmed, not at all, not with the weapons that were littering you. A kunai hidden is either of your boots, throwing stars in your pockets hidden underneath your vest and a war fan in your pocket. You could handle these clowns without even looking up.

But it wasn't your life you were concerned about. It was the lives of these underaged, vulnerable girls who had fallen prey to these monsters.

While you were waiting a couple of the girls started to wake up. Some were still heavily drugged, still groggy when their eyes fluttered open and unable to focus onto anything. Others shot up straight as an arrow and began crying, screaming, begging for them to let them out.

They were ignored, by both their captors and you. Why try and reassure then when you weren't sure what was going to happen. More importantly, why throw off the monsters lurking outside the door that there was one woman who hadn't been phased.

Instead, you just stared blankly, trying to get comfortable and hear anything through the walls. Eventually, you heard the sound of footsteps coming towards the room. You covered the lower half of your face with a scarf, making sure that anyone who left here alive today, wouldn't be able to remember your face. Whether it be as a saviour or their punisher.

The girls whimpered and curled into one another, crying quietly and you felt sympathy. There was no way they'd be able to move forward from this without having fear stab at their heart with every step they took. You could only hope they had something in their life that would make them feel safe.

For tonight, you'd be that for them.

A few men opened the door with a cruel smile, stepping inside for a second before bolting it shut. They flaunted guns and other weapons to the girls, finding pleasure where there should be compassion and worry. You were disgusted watching their smirks twist maniacally when the girls cried harder seeing them brandish their weapons.

One of the men stepped forward and grabbed the girl closest to him who begged and cried to spare her. His disgusting hand might as well be made of acid because you almost felt the sick burn when it snaked between her legs and copped a feel while she sobbed and screamed, trying to fight him off.

You grabbed one of your weapons and returned their sick grins with one of your own.

It was going to be hard to cop a feel when he can't feel anything.

You were going to break each and every bone in his hand to ensure that.

***

"Can I borrow your phone please?" You asked the bloody and broken man by your feet. He glared at you and spat blood on your boots, unable to do anything else. You sighed and faked a pout.

"Is it here?" You wondered, holding the dirtied boot over his ribs and his eyes widened, catching drift of what you were about to do. You rammed your foot into his broken ribs, courtesy of yourself, and he screamed bloody murder. Music to your ears.

"Apparently not. Want me to check your pants?" You asked, raising a brow and he frantically shook his head, using whatever strength left to pull out his phone from his pocket and you smiled, thanking him quietly.

"Now, let's hope that one blow is enough to put you out of my misery." You sang, punching him right in the face and he passed out. Lightweight.

You took a look around the place, seeing bodies littered over the place like confetti. Blood was scattered on the ground and you're sure if people looked hard enough, they'd find someone's teeth. You on the other hand looked fine.

You sat on the floor, crossing your legs comfortably, tired after the fight and dialled a number onto the phone.

"Hello, police?"

"Yes, how can we help you?"

"Well, there's a sex trafficking scam going on at my location. Quite shoddy but they have a number of women trapped here and it would be nice if you could send backup to have them escorted home safely."

"A sex trafficking scam?"

"Well, it could be just a regular trafficking scam but I'm not too sure."

"All right, I'll have someone check it out."

"Good, and I realize you might get a lot of calls like this but please don't talk to me like I'm an idiot. Tell your people to send a couple of ambulances as well, you'll need them."

"Of course."

You could only hope the person on the other end of the line would eat their words when it was on the front of the newspaper. For now, your work was done.

In the meantime, how were you going to get anywhere from here? Where even were you? Was there anyone even conscious here who could give you directions? Or would you have to call the police again to find out where to go?

Not that you'd wait long enough for them actually arrive here. You'd return to the bar way before that for another drink. Maybe now you'd actually be able to enjoy one.

Just as you were about to leave, you heard a creak coming from the other end of the warehouse. It echoed through the halls and you leapt to your feet, soundless moving to hide in the shadows and pulling out a kunai.

The footsteps that followed it were light and airy, barely even touching the ground. They were trained, whoever they were. You kept your ears open in order to hear something.

"Whoever was here was trained." You heard someone comment.

"Are you really that stupid, Nightwing? It's obvious that my sister was the one who took out this ring and reported it." Came the snappy reply back and your breath caught in your chest. Make no mistake, that was your brother's voice.

"We must find her."

He was actually looking for you? He knows you're here? You're not entirely surprised, you haven't exactly been careful or stealthy when it came to concealing your face around Gotham. A mistake on your part but you couldn't have been more relieved.

You still remained quiet, not wanting to disturb the flow, not wanting to interrupt. You had the mind of a soldier but when there was no one to follow you seemed more like a sheep. It made you feel slight shame, that you were unable to stick up for yourself despite being so many things.

Maybe, the league wasn't the best thing for you.

Immediately you scraped the thought from your mind, berating yourself for even thinking that. The league had given you everything, everything you were today was because of them. You were strong and calculating, the leagues proud soldier.

You were proud of your roots, thankful that you grew up to be the person you were. They had given you everything, and your brother was just one of the gifts that you had been blessed with in your life.

"Damian." You spoke softly, stepping out of the shadows. His head snapped towards you, eyes widening when he took in your form. It really was you. His sister.

Damian wasted no time in bounding towards you and you knelt down to meet his eye level, catching him with open arms. A part of your heart sang when you realized he was still small enough to fit in your arms. He still held you close. He still loved you.

"I've missed you, Ya Amar." You spoke softly, cradling his head that was buried in the junction of your neck.

"I as well, Okhti."

***

Damian was ecstatic that you were in Gotham. Of course, it didn't look like it to anyone but everyone who knew him well could tell that he was happy that his sister was home with him. He didn't wait for even two seconds when you got to the Batcave (much to Bruce's surprise) to show you all his pets.

The next few days would be considered the best of his life.

Damian wanted to be as close to you as possible, sitting near you during meals, training with you, talking with you, even going as far to sneak into your temporary bedroom at night for cuddles. He certainly got more comfortable showing affection since the last time you were around.

He showed you his hobbies like painting and sketching and you were impressed. He had the skills to be doing something like this? Damian had picked up many new talents and many new stories since you last saw him and he was eager to share them all with you.

The next few days would be considered the worst of your life.

You had found Damian now, so why didn't you still feel fulfilled? Why did you feel like something was missing? Like this wasn't meant for you? Why weren't you satisfied?

Why did you feel envious that Damian got to experience so many things? Why did you feel resentment against him when you realized you never got the same things he has?

Your life felt like it amounted to nothing.

You loved your brother but so far you had just been living for him. And now that you realized there were parts of the world that you wanted to see. There were thoughts in your mind that were of your own and desires that you didn't have to explain to anyone. As long as it made sense to yourself.

And you realize one thing with an aching heart.

You couldn't stay here in Gotham.

"Does Damian know?" Bruce asked you one day when you had asked him a favour. Bruce so far had been a little cold and unfeeling ever since you had met him in the Batcave uninvited. His feelings towards you got more negative when you gave an offhanded comment about how you thought he was taller. But he was the only one you could ask for a favour. He was the father to your beloved brother and you could only hope he would offer you the same consideration.

You had asked him for a flight to Washington, to see if Diana really meant what she said. To take a leap of faith for the first time in your life.

You shook your head no, "Not yet. I'm hoping he will take the news well. It's not like I'm leaving forever. I just—I need to—" You trailed off, unable to find the right words.

Bruce nodded, "I understand. Just tell him before you go. I don't think I've ever seen him this happy before."

"It makes me feel worse." You admitted, feeling a little guilty. How could you not feel happy at your brother’s happiness?

"You need some time to figure out that your world is yours. No one else should determine how you feel about yourself."

"You are very wise," You said softly, "Thank you."

***

"I love you dearly, Damian." You tried to coerce him from his room where he had locked himself in only 5 minutes ago. No doubt he was sulking since he found out that you would be leaving for DC in two days’ time.

"If you did, you wouldn't be leaving!" His voice was muffled, as if his face was buried in his pillow or even Titus. You had been trying to coax him into open the door for 20 minutes now and had multiple offers from Grayson, which you turned down.

"Oh, for the love of—Damian Wayne, you open this door right now!" It was silent for a moment before you heard the lock click open and took that as the indication from him to step into his room.

It was large and from the moment you stepped in, it was easy to tell the space was his. There were swords mounted on the wall, paintings on the wall adjacent to it. His desk was tidy and in the corner of his room, there were multiple easels and sketch pads.

Damian was sulking on his bed and you sighed, feeling guilty. You sat beside him and ran your fingers through his hair. Even though he was upset with you, he still sank into your touch, feeling comforted by mere contact.

"It's not forever, Damian. Wherever I'm going, I'm going to come back. I just need some time to myself." You tried to explain.

"But why!"

"The league taught me well, Damian. But it taught me to live like a soldier, but not as a person. There are so many things that I don't know about myself. What do I like? What do I want to do with my life? And I need to figure it out for myself."

"Why can't you do that here?"

You gave him a pained look and realization dawned on him, "Because of me."

"Damian, in the time we spent apart you learnt so many things about yourself. That you like animals, that you like art. There are so many blanks in my life and I need the distance to figure it out. I need to understand myself." You explained wistfully.

It was true, there were so many blanks in your life. You didn't even know what food you liked better, what hobbies you enjoyed. You wanted to experience new things, without the influence of Damian, without relying on him. And more importantly, you were scared you would put Damian above yourself time and time again.

It was all you knew. Damian was worth more than your life, worth more than your heart. But if that was true, you wanted to know at least what your heart was worth to you. If you didn't hold any value to yourself, it would be foolish to think you would to anyone else.

You needed the distance. You needed something new. You wanted to dive into uncharted waters and figure out the magic for yourself, without anyone to help you.

"It's not forever," You reminded gently, "I'm going to come back, I can promise you that."

Damian began leaning until his head was settled in your lap and you chuckled, gently scratching his scalp and he nestled into your belly. Hard to believe this was the same boy who left only a year ago. You wondered if you would change as much as he did or if you were stuck in your ways now.

"Okay," He said, voice muffled and you smiled, "I hope you find what you're looking for."

"Thank you for your blessing, Ya Amar. It means the world to me. I love you; you know that."

"I do." He said, now wrapping his arms around your waist, "I love you too."

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

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astranva · 3 years

Note

Hi can u please do one where Harry absolutely loves to scare his wife because she gets scared really easily and he has bunch of videos of her getting scared by him and he posts it on social midea and it goes viral?

I just don’t have anything to read tonight sadly lol

Word Count: 1.1k

Category: Fluff

Warning: Some strong language

a/n: that was cute 😭

It wasn’t that the slightest of sudden noise made you jitter, and it wasn’t that you cried at horror movies or anything, but Harry knew how to push the right buttons to have you screaming (in shock) (and pleasure but that’s another story) and sure, you loved him, but God how you hated him for it.

It started a few months after he had known you; you were sitting in a café as you waited for him, seemingly in your own universe as you scrolled through your phone with one hand and sipping your drink with the other.

Harry hadn’t snuck up on you, really, you were just too oblivious that the moment he pulled back the chair and let out a sudden “Hi!” you had let out a yelp, spilling your drink all over you.

He was embarrassed to have been loud, but it took you both a good minute before you were both giggling.

It was the norm after that: Harry would be a tad louder than usual during your quiet times, you would take a moment with your hand to your chest as you let out a “Well, shit, Harry!” and then you both would be giggling and laughing, Harry more than you for his own amusement purposes.

Harry began recording a year ago.

He was a pest when it came to scaring you, but you always gave him a good laugh and he couldn’t stop himself.

Fans knew about you; they knew about how lowkey you were and it wasn’t a surprise that they rarely got content of you and Harry together, everyone knowing how private Harry was and how he most definitely didn’t want to abuse your privacy as well seen you weren’t anywhere near being from the industry.

That was all why it was surprising when fans all over the world opened their Instagram one day to find Harry had posted something other than tour promo.

It was an IGTV with you, captioned:

“Boo.”

The video began with you sitting opposite from Harry on a couch, one hand under your chin as you read a book on your lap. It zoomed on your face a little before Harry zoomed out.

“Hey!”

You had jumped in your seat, book flying to God knows where, eyes wide as you stared at Harry, “Well, shit, Harry!”

It then moved to another video, showing an empty hallway with a distant sound of you singing to yourself, and Harry chuckling into the microphone of the mobile before going quiet, a shadow seen approaching as you did.

“Y/N!”

“Shit, Harry!”

You had jumped back, hand to your chest as you closed your eyes, before you laughed as you marched to him to tackle him.

Another video then came, this time recorded through the front camera of his phone.

Your head was on his shoulder, sounds of the television sounding as you were focused on the screen while Harry looked at his phone’s screen with a child-like smile.

“Baby!”

“Shit, Harry!”

Another video appeared; you were with Gemma working on a puzzle, both of you sitting on the ground as the puzzle was on the coffee table in front of you.

Your back was facing the screen as Harry creeped up behind you, recording his hand as it moved slowly to reach out and touch your shoulder, jolting you with a loud “Y/N!”

Harry’s laugh was heard over your shriek, phone recording as you had pushed away the puzzle you and Gemma had been working on for the past hour, pieces going everywhere.

“Shit, Harry, you fucker!” You were angry, despite Harry’s giggles and it’s why his phone recorded the dynamic movement of him running away.

Another video was shown, this time also through the front camera.

Harry was seen propping up the phone on a surface away from your view, holding up a finger to his lips to hush before tiptoeing to the window, and hiding behind the curtains.

10 seconds seemed to pass before you came in view, singing to yourself before you sat on the couch, slices of watermelon on a plate as you munched on one, oblivious to Harry’s hiding spot.

He tapped on the window, not being able to actually see your reaction but his phone catching it.

Your munching stopped, head turning towards the sound as you remained quiet.

Harry moved the curtain, you standing suddenly and taking a step back.

In one quick movement, Harry stepped out from behind the curtains, “Boo!”

“Motherfu-“

If it weren’t for Harry’s quick reflexes, the watermelon slice in your hand would have been kissing his face instead of the window where you chucked it.

The video ended with him doubled over in laughter, you on the ground with your face in your hands.

The final video was Harry’s favorite.

It was shot on your wedding day.

Harry had stuck to the whole “we can’t see each other before the wedding because it’s bad luck,” sure, yes, but not really.

He recorded as he stood outside a door – the door that separated the both of you, where you were getting ready with all your friends and all those involved.

Harry had texted your best friend prior to that, saying that he needed to hand you something before the wedding and that you need to be nearby the door to take it from his hand.

The moment he got an “okay, ready” was the moment he began recording.

He heard you laughing with your friends, music coming out of the room.

Smoothly, and ever so gently, Harry opened the door with one hand while the other held his phone, blindly recording your reaction.

The video showed you in your dress, looking down at it as you smoothed it down.

“Mrs. Styles!”

You had screamed, kicking the door and hearing Harry grunt as it hit his wrist.

“Shit, Harry!”

It wasn’t a surprise to anyone that this video was trending everywhere; taken to YouTube, trimmed to snippets for TikTok, quote tweeted on Twitter.

With 20 million views, and 5 million likes, you and Harry was laughing at the reactions his little montage got.

“y’all i knew he was a little shit😭”

“THE FACT THAT I WOULD’VE DUMPED HIS ASS THE FIRST TIME HE PULLED THIS SHIT”

“We stan the wrong person. we should be stanning y/n for putting up with this 💀”

“PLS THIS IS SO STUPID AND DOMESTIC 😭😭😭”

“I can’t believe this manchild is married”

“NOT HIM SCARING Y/N ON THE FUCKING WEDDING DAY WHY IS HE DEDICATED TO THIS”

“ik this is all fun but when is it my turn”

#harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff one shot

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mcwriting · 3 years

Text

it's just part of the job

This is a once shot based on a request by @laurentrvn! I really loved the idea and tried to stick as closely to the prompt given, so I hope you enjoy!

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 1248

Warnings: can't think of any, it's pure fluff

You were exhausted, to be frank.

It was just past 2 a.m. in yours and Tom's London home as he prepared for a late night TV interview based in Los Angeles.

The show was taping his part at 8 p.m. their time, which converted to 3 a.m. yours during the summer months.

Normally it wouldn't have been that big of a deal.

You were so proud of Tom for his upcoming film, but you were actually in the middle of shooting your own movie in the city, something you'd been busy doing all day long.

Crazy hours are just part of the job, though.

The interview wouldn't be long, so you'd agreed to stay up with your boyfriend and make sure he was well styled so he wouldn't have to call other people to the house in those early morning hours.

Thankfully, you were going to have a two-day work break anyways as your film's scripts went through some minor rewrites.

Because of the ridiculous hour, your stomach had decided that 2 a.m. was the perfect time for a snack, so while Tom dressed you had decided to scrounge around the kitchen until you found something good.

You brewed some tea in the meanwhile, both you and Tom deciding that this wasn't an ideal time for coffee, especially considering you hadn't slept in at least 20 hours.

You walked into the bedroom, a small tray in hand with the tea and snacks stacked carefully.

"Hey I got some fruit and some cookies but let me know if- woooow..." you said, brows raised once you saw Tom's outfit in the reflection of his full-length mirror.

He'd chosen to dress in a shirt you loved, a button up with thick vertical stripes tucked into some grey slacks, an outfit which was reminiscent of 70s fashion.

You had to laugh at the fact that he was even wearing pants, though. Unfortunately he'd learned the hard way what it was like to forgo pants on a zoom meeting, so he swore to wear them for any video call from now own.

Who knew, he might even be asked about it in his interview tonight after his boxers had previously gone viral.

Tom turned and smiled at your pleased reaction, walking towards you. After you set the tray down, he snaked an arm around your waist and planted one kiss on your forehead and another to your lips.

"Think I look good, eh?"

"I'm loving the fit, but we need to put a little makeup on you," you said, shimmying from his grip and disappearing into the bathroom to find the foundation his stylist had explicitly told him to use tonight.

When you returned, he was indulging in a chocolate chip cookie, the crumbs all over his mouth.

"While you finish that, I'm going to start on your forehead," you explained as you began dabbing a beauty blender along his hairline. After a few minutes, he had an even layer painted over his face and neck.

"Am I done now? I'm supposed to log onto the call soon," he pouted.

"Almost, I just need to swipe on a little blush and neutral eyeshadow and you'll be all set," you answered, focused on picking out a blush color that would look natural on camera.

"I don't even get why I need makeup. They're going to be seeing me from my shitty computer camera and office lights. I mean look at you. You're not wearing makeup and you look great!"

You paused brushing a light rouge over one cheek to give him a half lidded look.

"Nice try, but we both know I look like I was run over with a truck," you joked.

It's not like you were even trying to sound self-deprecating, it's just that you had been awake far too long after having done a physically taxing shoot all day.

The second you'd gotten home, you'd showered and gotten rid of any trace of makeup, leaving you bare faced with damp hair that wet the collar of your old t-shirt.

"Well I think you look beautiful," Tom reiterated, kissing your forehead again as you went to grab eyeshadow.

You hummed in response and quickly brushed a light tan color over his eyelids to complete his look.

"Okay, all done. You did a good job on you hair," you commented, still instinctively reaching up to reposition a curl.

"Well that's perfect, because I need to get logged on. Why don't you relax and I'll come get you when I'm done, yeah?"

You nodded and let him go, watching him head across the hall as you sat at your vanity, sipping on the tea you'd made for yourself.

Though it took almost 30 minutes of sound checking and ensuring a good connection, Tom's interview had only lasted about 10 minutes.

When asked about the time in London, he'd only had one answer:

"It's just part of the job"

As expected, he'd had to show off his pants and make sure everyone knew he was wearing them despite the wee morning hour. Also unsurprisingly, he'd been asked where y/n was, explaining her taxing day and praising her for helping him get ready.

Once he closed up his laptop, he got up and turned out the office light. He then untucked and unbuttoned his shirt, ready to put on some comfy clothes and get in bed.

"Hey I'm don-" he paused and stopped in the doorway, grinning.

In the 40 or so minutes since he'd left you, you'd fallen asleep with your head down on the vanity, a half-eaten cookie in hand and your hair splayed all around the desk.

"Darling, are you awake?" he asked in a whisper, his hand gently placed over your shoulder, to make sure that you weren't just resting your head.

When he got no response, he knew you were actually asleep.

Tom quickly removed his unbuttoned shirt and exchanged his slacks for sweatpants. He also haphazardly took a makeup wipe to his face, knowing that leaving makeup on his face would cause it to break out.

Once he was cleaned up, he came back into the room to take care of you, starting by removing the cookie from your hand and placing it back on the tray.

He sat you up, your head rolling backwards until his hand could catch it. Thankfully you hadn't scooted the seat forward at all, so all he had to do was hook an arm below your knees and the other around your back.

He stood with a little huff, your dead weight no match for his strength.

Though you were asleep, your head instinctively turned into his chest as he transferred you a few feet and laid you gently on the bed where he had folded back the covers.

The missing warmth of his skin awoke you as he shuffled to the other side of the bed, so you stretched and yawned.

"Sorry that I woke you love, I was trying to be gentle," he whispered, sliding onto the mattress as you rolled to face him, still exhausted.

"It's okay. How did it go?"

"Amazing of course," he punctuated the statement with a forehead kiss. "He asked what you were up to."

"Hmm. What did you say?" you asked, cozying up to Tom.

"I told him you were out partying while I worked all day, as usual," he joked.

You snorted, not having the energy to fully laugh at his joke.

"It's just part of the job," you retorted. You were starting to slip away again.

"G'night, Tom. Love you," you slurred hazily.

"Good night, darling. I love you, too."

A/N: Ugh this was so cute are you kidding me??? Pretty much all the credit goes to @laurentrvn like I said before. I was given pretty much the backbone of this fic and just filled in the missing pieces, so I hope it's what you were imagining with this!

Thanks for reading!

Permanent Tag List

Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series taglists so I can verify you’ve been added!

@jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe, @justafangirlduh

#it's just part of the job #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot

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writingsnmusings · 3 years

Text

Zoom Session

pairing: modern!ivar the boneless x reader

summary: classes have started back up for you which should be a nice distraction, but when are things ever that easy?

a/n: i had no idea what gif to use of alex so here's this! also, here's my vikings masterlist!

gif credit- @therealcalicali

To say you were an anxious mess was a severe understatement. It was a week into the lockdown and today was your first zoom session with your students. You missed them like crazy, but not knowing how all this would go down was nerve wracking; they were just 7 year olds after all.

“You look tense,” Ivar chuckled as he stood behind you. You rolled your eyes, not in the mood for his teasing.

“I am.”

The feeling of his hands on your shoulders made you jump slightly. God, you were a mess. “Take breath, Y/N.” He began massaging your shoulders which did ease you a bit. You were sure you’d given yourself about a dozen stress knots since receiving the email from your principal three days ago.

Your laptop was open on the zoom website, a countdown of how long till your students would be joining was on the screen. 1 minute. 60 seconds and you’d see 20 of your favorite 7 year olds.

“Alright,” You sighed, shrugging Ivar’s hands off you. “I have 30 seconds to mentally prepare myself.”

Your bestfriend laughed at your expense once again before leaning down and giving your temple a quick kiss. “You’ll be fine. You get a lunch at 12 and i’ll have something ready for you by then.”

You didn’t even process the words he spoke since all your brain could focus on was the way your skin tingled where his lips just were. Ivar was gone in a second, presumably going to his room where he’ll be holed up while you work. The wifi worked best at the island counter so that’s where you were set up.

A chorus of “Miss Y/N” soon rang in your ears and all thoughts of Ivar were gone. You gave these kids your undivided attention for the next three hours.

You were in the middle of explaining the math worksheet they had for homework when one of your boys asked a question. “Miss who’s behind you?”

Your brow furrowed as you turned your head, only to spot Ivar coming out of his room with his airpods in and phone in his hand. “Yes Floki, we got the masks Helga made. Y/N loves her marvel one so thank her for us please. All right, I need to start on lunch now.”

Ivar hadn’t looked up since he walked into the frame of your camera and you couldn’t lie and say you hadn’t stopped looking at him either.

“Miss Y/N, is that your boyfriend?”

As soon as the question left your students mouth, both yours and Ivar’s head snapped to the screen. So he had hung up with Floki already.

You cleared your throat, “Uh-no, Max, he’s um my roommate.” You stuttered your way through the short sentence, mentally scolding yourself.

Ivar smiled at the flustered mess you’d become. He took out his headphones as he came to your side. “Hello,” He waved at the kids who eagerly waved back. “I hope you all are behaving for Miss Y/N here.”

The overlapping chatter of ‘yes!’ and ‘of course sir!’ made you and Ivar laugh. “I’m starting lunch, any requests?” He asked, trying to keep his voice.

You shook your head, “I’m good with anything you make.”

Ivar nodded and winked your way before going around the counter and beginning to rummage through his thankfully fully stocked fridge. You had to tear your gaze away from him. Only 10 minutes till your lunch break. You could do this.

The way you talked to your students, so engaged and animated made Ivar feel something. Something he’d never felt with anybody else before. Hearing you laugh at something silly a kid said made his heart swell. He loved hearing you laugh. He had just finished plating the sandwich he made as you said your goodbye for the next 45 minutes.

“Okay guys, any questions before we go on lunch? Yes, Emma?” You smiled at the little girl who cleared her throat before speaking.

“Miss, my sister has a roommate too and they go on dates and kiss. Do you and your roommate do that too?” She asked so innocently that you couldn’t even scold her for asking such an intrusive question. All eyes, even Ivar’s were on you as they awaited your answer.

Ivar’s eyebrows raised as your cheeks flushed, a subtle smirk on his lips. He mouthed ‘answer her’ and pointed to the laptop.

“No honey, he is just my roommate. Boys and girls can be friends and not kiss and go on dates.” You plastered a smile on your face and willed the flush on your face to go away. “I will see you guys at 12:45!” You quickly ended the session and shut your laptop.

Ivar couldn’t hold in his laughter any longer. He legitimately was belly laughing which made you roll your eyes. “Shut it and give me my sandwich.” He slid the plate to you, but not before stealing a chip.

“Kids are hilarious.” He said as he cleaned up.

“Yeah,” You shook your head, “Sorry about that by the way. They really don’t know boundaries yet.”

“It didn’t bother me.” He shrugged, making your eyes widen. “What?” Ivar eyed your reaction, looking confused. “Y/N, this isn’t the first time someone’s thought we were together. Your students were just more vocal about it”

“Oh I mean, yeah you’re right. I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.” You explained, suddenly feeling shy.

Ivar shook his head, “That would never make me feel uncomfortable.” He gave your shoulder a squeeze as he walked by, going back to his room. “We still watching Thor after you're done?”

“Of course.”

You had minutes left before your students were back on your screen and you needed to clear your mind of Ivar. Just two and a half hours and class would be over. Then it would be you and Ivar. Alone. Watching a movie. Together. Just the two of you.

Sighing, you clicked the button to begin the session again. Who knew a couple of questions from your students would send you into a spiral.

XXXXXX

taglist-

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@bluearchersstuff

@oddsnendsfanfics

@castielsangelsx

@straightestgay-voice

@katfett

@1950schick

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar x reader #ivar imagine #modern!ivar imagine #modern!ivar x reader #modern!ivar #vikings x reader #vikings imagine #ivar lothbrok x reader #ivar lothbrok imagine #quarantine with ivar #my writings

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dclsbaby · 3 years

Text

tolerate it - Dominic Calvert Lewin 🦋

Summary: despite being in love, you and dom drift apart during a career hiccup and it breaks your heart into tiny little pieces

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: angst? pain?

A/N: hi everyone! I took the looongest hiatus known to mankind and I just want to thank everyone who has still stuck by this blog! I haven't written in a while and this isn't by best work but I hope you'll enjoy it anyway! ily!

masterlist

I wake and watch you breathing with your eyes closed

I sit and watch

I notice everything you do or don’t do

Every little thing he does leaves you in awe. The man can’t do no wrong in your eyes. You notice the way he breathes, his little gestures, his subtle movements. Others can envision an entire story just by observing the way he looks at you. As you lay in bed with his body next to yours, his chest rising with every breath taken, you discover a newfound appreciation to add to the list of things you love about him. You have never felt a feeling so intense, so visceral. Love is terrifying, isn’t it? Love often leads to infatuation, and this was no different to you. You wear your heart on your sleeves, feel every emotion, from the exhilarating highs, to the excruciating lows. To be dependent on another human for happiness is a dangerous game. You fear love. And with fear comes paranoia.

It started when your conversations became shorter and shorter by the day. Then, it’s him arriving late from training, to no longer waking you up before he leaves for early morning training. No more forehead kisses when you’re still asleep, no more post-it notes on refrigerator doors telling you he’s made you breakfast, no nothing. Bodies that were once intertwined each night now rest apart with unwanted distance in between. Distance you so wanted to close.

As the weather turned cold, so did he.

I wait by the door like I’m just a kid

Use my best colours for your portrait

Lay the table with fancy shit

And watch you tolerate it

Without fail, you would always wait for him to come home, run to the door when you hear his car pull over on your driveway and leap into his arms the second he steps in your shared home. He would hold you up as your legs wrap around his waist, and whisper “I’ve been waiting to come home to you all day,” in your ear. A memory you long to relive.

You knew he had been struggling, coping with a plateau in his career, playing less and less, becoming a resident of the substitution bench. It hurt you to see him hurt, but it also pained you that he did not turn to you for comfort. “Nothing is wrong,” he says, over and over. Lies, you thought. You know him better than anyone else. So you try and convince him that he could trust you, and that keeping it all in would only make it worse. I mean you would know, as you have been suppressing so much pain this whole time. But he wins this battle yet again, and with his ego intact, he shrugs it off, ignores his frustration, and pushes you away.

While you were out building other worlds, where was I?

Where’s that man who’d throw blankets over my barbed wire?

I made you my temple, my mural my sky

Now I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life

As months passed by, you were no longer his live-in partner, but a stranger he has to coexist with, leaving you lonely each night as he drifted off to sleep inches away from you. Even then your love for him is still as potent, as strong. Your loyalty is a crime.

Your efforts to make him feel better never ceased, as you continue cooking him his favourite meals after training, helping him pack his bags the night before he leaves for international duty, doing household chores so he never had to bother with them after coming home from an exhausting day, making playlists of songs you think he’d like, and putting movies and tv series you know he would enjoy in his Netflix list.

You would do anything for some form of acknowledgement.

You would do anything to bring back those first two years back.

You would do anything for a simple touch, a hug, an embrace.

You would do anything for… something.

Everything you did, you did for him. Every thought that passes your mind, involves him.

It’s just a phase. It’s just a phase. You try to convince yourself. That’s a lie, another subconscious voice says.

---

It was the night before the Merseyside derby, which happens to be the final match of the season. The most anticipated match of the year. The perfect match. The match that determines if Everton is crowned Premier League champions. Half of the city at war with the other half. Two colours, two clubs with a historic rivalry battle it out on the pitch once again.

He was nervous, you could tell. You catch him playing with his food and struggle to finish his meal as he was sick to his stomach. After months of hate comments, online trolling, and being subject to pundits’ criticism, this was the perfect match to prove all the doubters that he is worthy of wearing his blue jersey. He spent several more minutes tossing pieces of food with his fork until he got up, placed his plate on the sink, and made his way up the stairs to sleep. No “see you upstairs”, or a last goodbye before he sleeps. You had to resist every temptation to start a fight and argue that you deserve more than silence. But you knew how important tomorrow’s occasion is, and decided against it.

Shortly after you make your way into your bedroom. He was curled on the edge of the bed, eyes closed, bedroom lights dimmed. You go to your shared bathroom, take what’s left of your makeup off, and get ready for bed. You stare at yourself in the mirror. Darkened under eyes, lips cracked down the middle. You were dehydrated, tired, exhausted, and looked almost ghastly. Turns out having a broken heart does have implications on your vanity. How much longer can I do this? You thought. You felt pathetic, feeling sorry for yourself. You exhale a deep sigh and make your way back into the bedroom, joining him in bed. As you settle on the bed, you turn your body away from him, and tug the duvet your way, curling into a fetal position and tuck yourself in, and drift off to sleep.

All of a sudden, you hear sounds of shifting sheets, the bed slightly moving with every turn he makes. You could tell he was awake. You knew the events of tomorrow are playing on his mind and making him lose sleep. With only a little hesitation, you extend an arm and rest your hand on his back, causing him to shudder a little. Your touch had stopped the shifting and brought him comfort he did not know he needed. Not long after, you could hear soft snores from his side of the bed.

---

You woke up to an empty bed, which was not unusual. You forgive him though, since it is a big day and he probably had to tune into the game day mentality early in the morning.

You watch the game from home and stare at the TV screen as the cameras zoom into Dom, his face serious, ready to fight it out on the pitch. Since the second the referee blew the first while, it had already gotten intense. Both teams began attacking from the get-go, a handful of chances created even though it’s barely been a quarter of an hour.

Minutes passed, and yellow cards have been handed out for several players. Every spectator in different time zones all glued to their screens, all on the edge of their seats until half-time. The camera catches a glimpse of him walking off the pitch. He looked angry and frustrated, you could tell. He was responsible for most of the chances created during the game, though he couldn’t seem to poach one in.

Ben had made a long pass that Dom couldn’t quite convert into a goal.

Lucas had delivered a stunning, almost perfect cross that landed on Dom’s head, but it went wide.

Richy had attempted a shot on his own, which pissed Dom off.

It’s all square at half-time, but football is a game of two halves, and to decide which side of the city will celebrate tonight is determined by the next 45 minutes at least.

Every player is now back on the pitch, ready to give it their all.

10 minutes in, it’s long balls and defending, the opposition giving no room to maneuver through the box. That is until Lucas passed another strikingly accurate cross.

“MISS AGAIN! How could he have missed a cross like that a second time?”

“Everton’s number 9 squashes an open goal opportunity, what a shame, that.”

“He’s going to hate himself for that,”

“He already does, Calvert-Lewin looks like he’s about to see red.”

You listen to the commentators as they describe Dom’s frustration. You watch with anxiety, occasionally scrolling through your phone to avoid the intensity.

---

Into the final minute of the game 90+3. Still all square at the Goodison. It’s now or never.

“Free kick!”

“The free-kick will be done 20 yards off the goal post.”

“This could be the last chance of the game!”

“It’s been decided that Sigurdsson will take the free kick, Calvert-Lewin leaps into the air, ball’s on his head—GOAL!!!”

And just like that, in the final minute of the game, his team clinches the winner, and your man is hailed the hero of the night.

You watch the screen as the referee blows the final whistle of the game, Dom doing sprints around the pitch with his teammates, bodies jumping on each other, veins popping through every neck, roars of exhilaration filling the open air as Everton is calculated to win the league.

You watch him immerse himself in the exhilaration of crowning his team champions of the Premier League. The blue confetti rained over the stadium in the crisp yet comfortable afternoon air, cheering noises blasting through the speakers. You watch the screen zoom into the love of your life, or was. You see his perfectly chiseled face, those bright green eyes, brunette locks still perfectly put together even after a hard-fought game, his sweet smile warming your heart. Your eyes glued to the screen as your man is hailed a hero, and feel an overwhelming sense of pride.

Though not even the cheering and happy faces on TV could distract you from the churning feeling in your stomach. It’s a feeling you can’t quite pinpoint. Is it confusion? Anger? Happiness? You don’t even know.

You’re happy for him, truly. But you can’t seem to shake the fact that it took him being distant from you, and completely ignoring your existence to get his head back in the game. It’s like you and football were mutually exclusive, and he can’t focus on both things he loves most at the same time. You weren’t going to make him choose either.

---

He didn’t come home that night, and you saw it coming. You knew he was going to go out with his teammates, and rightfully so, they achieved a massive milestone after all. But it bothered you that he didn’t say anything, no texts, no voicemails, nothing to tell you of his whereabouts. You thought he would at least change after all that success, but still nothing. Everything is going to stay the same, isn’t it? You thought.

The next morning you wake up to an empty bed. Again. Totally expected. You reach out for your phone and see 10 missed calls from your best friend and several text messages with picture attachments. You were not prepared for what you were about to see.

Attached were pictures of him in a club with his teammates, pictured awfully close to a woman you don’t recognise. He was smiling and looked happy. You can’t remember the last time he looked like that, or even smiled at you. You haven’t even stood as close as they way that woman is in his space, for months. He hasn’t looked at you the way he’s looking at her in those pictures for months.

You felt sick. Your mind is racing. Your heart feels like it’s about to fall out of your chest. You wanted to cry and scream but nothing came out. Total silence. Pure shock. You had no tears left to cry, as you wasted it all from crying yourself to sleep just inches away from the man who broke your heart every day.

Should I have seen it coming? Has he been going out with her for months? When did it start? You try to remember every single detail over the past few months. Every single pain, every single action that you could have overlooked.

---

By the afternoon, you’ve already spent hours sitting on your bed, staring at the pictures sent to you. More links have appeared as gossip sites picked up on the story.

“Dominic Calvert-Lewin celebrates historic Merseyside win with a mystery girl who is not his missus”

“Everton Hero – Also a Cheat”

“Cursed WAGs – DCL celebrates PL win with mystery woman as his missus is MIA”

The more you read these news outlets, the number you feel. The whole of England knows your dirty laundry, you felt like a fool.

You were done.

Drawing hearts in the byline

Always taking up too much space or time

You assume I’m fine, but what would you do if I…

Break free and leave us in ruins

Took this dagger in me and removed it

Gain the weight of you, then lose it

Believe me I could do it

Shortly after you hear keys rattling downstairs, followed by the sound of doors shutting. You hear footsteps walking up the stairs, and you mentally prepare to see his face. You still don’t know how you’re going to react, not until you see him.

As he steps into the doorframe, he sees your bloodshot eyes and stops in his tracks.

“So, I presume you’ve seen what’s being said about me,” he moans.

“Yeah, yeah I’ve seen,” you shrug.

“It’s absolutely ridiculous isn’t it, shouldn’t believe everything you say,” he says.

“-is it though? Is it absolutely ridiculous that what they say could be true?” you cross your arms.

“Of course, it is! What are you even saying?” he says, offended.

“I’m saying that I have spent months slaving for you, putting you before myself without getting anything in return! I’m saying that I have been so miserable in this sad excuse of a relationship, holding onto the last memory of when you last said you loved me which was months ago! I’m saying that it would not be so unbelievable if you had been cheating on me, and that I had to find out from some tabloids!”

“If you had been so miserable then why didn’t you say anything? You could have said something if you’ve been so unhappy!” Dom yells.

“Because I have been tiptoeing around you! Afraid of saying the wrong things to set you off, I did not want to be a burden during a time when I know you’re struggling,” you sigh.

Dom’s body nearly goes limp after hearing your confession.

“I put you before myself over and over again for the past year, and you have the nerve to assume I’m fine? Fine with what? Being ignored? Being second best? You don’t know what that does to a person,” you cry.

“Do you regret it?” he asks with tears in his eyes. “Do you regret me?” he looks at you.

“No, Dom. No, I don’t. I don’t regret you because I’ve spent the last few months giving it my all to a relationship on the brink of ruins. I never gave up on you, and I never gave up on our love, or what’s left of it,” you sigh. “Deep down, I think I knew that I deserved more than a pathetic excuse of a career hiccup, but I was prepared to stand by you through it all,” you break into cries. “My love was strong enough to ignore every warning sign, strong enough to mute fire alarm bells ringing in my head, alerting me to leave a relationship where I was no longer appreciated,” you rest your head on your hand. “Maybe we’re all allotted a certain amount of fight to give per love, and today… Today I ran out,” look up at him.

“Don’t fucking say that. Do not say that. I am not done fighting for this relationship, I know I fucked up! You don’t think I know that? I will fix everything, you don’t have to do anything, let me do everything I will fix us!” Dom begs.

“There’s no fixing us. It takes two people to fix a relationship, I learned that the hard way and I singlehandedly attempted to piece us back together only for you to break through what I’ve built and held together with my bare fucking hands,” you say as you wipe your tears away.

Dom drops to the floor as he could no longer stand the pain he feels from what you’ve just said.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I-I don’t know what to say,” he pleads

“If it took you this long, and if it took me standing here yelling at you for you to regret what you did then we are past the point of fixing,”

“You know what football means to me, I felt stuck, everything that I had dreamed of as a kid was slowly fading, I couldn’t bear it,” Dom reasons.

“I would never get in between you and football. I would never have even considered making you choose, Dom. I would have done absolutely anything for you, anything, you said. “I just needed you to tell me what the hell is going on so I could have helped you. I did not deserve to be swept under the rug, to be left feeling useless, while you were out doing god knows what with god knows who after training every. Single. Day.”

“Are you implying that I cheated on you?! That I, me – someone you’ve known for years, is cheating on you?”

If it’s all in my head, tell me now

Tell me I’ve got it wrong somehow

“Go on then! Tell me I’m making all of this up in my head. Tell me that I am not wrong to assume such insane thoughts, tell me that it is so beyond the realm of possibility that you could ever be unfaithful.”

Dom stayed silent.

You simply nodded and picked up your belongings, ready to leave.

“Nothing happened. I swear,” he pleaded.

“Your silence was enough,

Goodbye.”

I know my love should be celebrated

But you tolerate it

#dominic calvert lewin #dominic calvert lewin imagine #dominic calvert lewin imagines #football imagine #dclsbaby #everton fc

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jtsfavslut · 3 years

Text

Falling [G.D]

Description: Just when Y/N thought she was over Grayson, he pops back into her life, making her wonder if you could fall for the same person twice. Inspired by ‘Falling’ - Harry Styles.

Warnings: None, Just sad stuff lmao!!!

Word Count: 4K+

Also a special thanks to cole [ @blazedgraysons] for keeping up with my annoying ass questions while I wrote this, and for helping me and giving me advice I love you <333

Her small feet carried her body down the familiar street, cars zooming past her as her body softly bumped into the others around her. The loud sounds from the environment being blocked away by the soft, yet loud music that was coming out of an old pair of Airpods she had gotten for Christmas back in High School.

This was Y/N's daily routine. Get up early in the morning, do her business in the bathroom, get dressed, and walk over to her favorite cafe. The Beachwood cafe had become Y/N's second home ever since she moved to L.A, spending most of her time there, before and after class.

A smile lit up her face as the familiar blue door came into her view, a content sigh falling past her lips as she got closer to the door.

The strong smell of coffee hit her nostrils as she walked inside, music being paused as she walked fully inside, giving her attention to the cashier that greeted her every morning, "Hi Y/N, your stuff is on your table," she smiled up at Y/N before pointing towards her usual table.

It was the one by the window in the corner of the shop, the bright yellow and blue floor illuminated her small journey to the table, where her coffee and breakfast sandwich happily waited for her to approach. She sat down, hand reaching into her Yellow Kanken backpack, another Christmas gift from high school that she dearly took care of, she pulled out a brown journal and a pen.

A journal filled with memories and random thoughts that popped in her head. Y/N thought writing things down was good for the mind and body. She believed that writing things down would help you keep your thoughts safely, and lock memories into place without overworking your mind. A pen that has been through many journeys on the same yet different page.

All pages were the same until the pen went over it, recording things until the end of time. They were all the same until she wrote down her thoughts for the day.

Her small hand gripped onto the pen as she wrote down her thoughts from the previous night, coffee cup in the other hand as she slowly sipped the liquid.

Last night I thought of him again, just until I drifted off. I don't know why. It hasn't happened in months. Nothing bad, just a memoir of all of our memories together. Like the time we broke into the school's pool one night. Where he pushed me in with all my clothes on, then he jumped in and we made out by the stairs. Funny how we never got caught since cameras were around us. Or when we had our senior trips to the mountains in Colorado, and how he kept sneaking into the girls' room just to be with me. We were lucky we didn't get caught again. I tried to not keep thinking about him. I know it's time to finally drop it and move on, but how? How do I erase all those memories from my brain? How am I supposed to just drop it and move along? Just how? I don't need or want to know why just how.

She softly slammed the notebook closed, right before she could feel a slight burning in her eyes and a rock starting to form in her throat. The subject of her and a past lover that she was still holding onto, still being a deep wound to her.

She thought about and remembered Grayson every day. After all, he was her everything during her entire High School life, and he still was…...sort of. Grayson and Y/N started dating in the 9th grade, right about in the middle of the year. He asked her out behind the school's bleachers during lunchtime, a mixture of flowers from his mom's garden that she shyly accepted from him after she said yes. That was followed by their date to the movie theater, where he held her close to him every time she faked being a little scared, not that he could tell, and three dates after he officially asked her out where she said yes again, and that was followed by an accidental kiss, he was leaning towards her cheek when she accidentally moved her head to the side, causing his lips to land on hers. Neither of them complained, just smiled at each other and carried on.

They went on for 6 years, all of high school and two college years, where he decided to break it off because of distance. He went off on how being across the country from one another was hard, and the fact that the time difference from New York to California was 3 and 4. She didn't complain. Didn't give a reason as to why not, even if she had trillions of them. She didn't try to change his mind. She simply said okay, and wished him the best. She still loved him though.

The words that her grandpa had spoken replayed in her brain every time she questioned why she still thought about him; "You never stop loving anyone sugar, you just kinda love someone stronger. If you stop loving them, then you never loved them to begin with" She thought about that, and that made her feel better. Maybe there was someone out there who she would love more than she loved Grayson.

With a quiet sigh, she put her journal away, switching it with a book she picked up at the library a few days prior, yet read a million times.

To Kill A Mockingbird is a book she read many times in school, mostly everyone has. It's the one book from school she actually enjoyed, so she picked it up from the book shop down the street from her apartment before work one day, and didn't get to read it until now.

She opened the book with a small smile, the sensation of the book against her finger bringing nothing but happiness to her, and took her mind off whatever was bothering her. She lost herself in the book, almost done with half of the book before her alarm rang, signaling it was time for work. She left a 20 on the table after putting all her stuff away in her backpack and walking out of the shop and towards her job which was a paid internship at a local hospital downtown, all she did was watch and help out with minor cases like cuts, sprains, X Ray's and the occasional stuff like questioning. She entered the hospital, sanitizing herself and changing into her uniform, walking over to her area, that being the Pediatrics Emergency room where her boss, mentor, whatever you might want to call him, Dr. Reyez, and the rest of the team were waiting for her.

"Morning everyone," she chirped at the tired yet awake health care workers, who all had smiles on their faces. "Morning Y/N, you're going to be practicing by yourself today, can you handle it?" Dr. Reyez asked her, which she just nodded her head with a smile. There wasn't a single ounce of doubt in her brain.

"I'm pretty sure yes! And I can just reach out to you guys if anything, right?"

"Yeah, just page us if anything. Your first patient should be here soon, just go wait by the desk," Reyez instructed her and that's exactly what she did. She sat on the desk for over 20 minutes until someone came in with a toddler covered in rashes.

"Hi baby, I just need to ask you and mommy a few questions, yeah?" She sweetly and patiently asked the 5 year old as his mom was filling out some papers, to which he just nodded his head.

"Okay, Xavion, did you eat something new today? Maybe something you've never eaten?" She asked and both the mom and son nodded their heads.

"Do you think he was allergic to something?" The mom asked, causing Y/N to shrug.

"Well, it depends. We need to get an allergy test for him. It doesn't hurt or anything, we just scratch and pour a drop of the allergen over it and see how they react. Mom, do you happen to remember what he ate today for the first time?" She replied by recording some notes down on her clipboard before telling a nurse to get an Allergy Antibody Test ready.

"He ate everything that he usually does except for some broccoli I gave him," the mom replied and Y/N nodded her head before writing it down on her clipboard and walking them to the testing room.

Once the results came back around half an hour later, Xavion was, in fact, allergic to broccoli, and other things that Y/N had to explain to the mother. She got about 15 minutes of break time before Reyez called her another minor emergency.

"It's an 11 year old, possible breakage or sprain to the leg, you can handle this one right?" He asked and she nodded her head, "Good, they're in room 217, good luck," he added before sending her off to the room.

She quickly made her way over to it, grabbing her clipboard on the way, "Hi, I'm Dr.Y/LN, I'm going to be taking care of you guys today! May I have the child's name and date of birth please?" She nicely asked as she walked inside the room, quickly walking over to the desk area that was in the corner and placing her stuff down.

"Uhhh, Caleb Dolan, August 17, 2008," a deep voice that she could recognize from anywhere spoke as she turned around. Her heart dropped at the sight of Grayson in front of her. She tried to reassemble herself, after all, she couldn't make any mistakes right now, Reyez was trusting her and she couldn't afford to mess the opportunity up.

"Caleb, August 17, 2008," she mumbled as she wrote it down on her piece of paper, "Caleb, do you mind telling me what happened, babe?" She asked with a smile on her face. Her smile turned into a small frown as she looked up at the boy who happened to be in pain.

"Me and uncle Gray were practicing for the soccer game that's next and I fell on the mud and hit my leg really hard," he explained as she walked towards him nodding her head.

"On a scale of 1 to 10, One being okay while 10 being the worst, how would you rate the pain?" She asked, walking over to the walk to grab a pair of gloves, putting them on, and walking back towards him.

"Uhh a seven," he replied and she nodded her head.

"Okay Caleb, just know this might hurt a little okay? It's just protocol to check if it's dislocated, broken, or sprained okay?" She asked and he nodded his head, a few tears falling down his face from fear. Grayson quickly leaned down to wipe off his face whispering a quiet 'you'll be okay' as Caleb grabbed his hand.

"Can you try and move your ankle for me? Just try and move it," she explained and he muttered at quiet yes before moving his foot in a slow circle, she nodded her head before placing both hands over his ankle checking for any bumps, which there were none to find, "Luckily for you Caleb, it's just sprained! There are no bumps meaning it's not dislocated, and you can move it meaning it's not fractured! Just to make sure, we're going to need an X Ray' just to make sure there are no hidden surprises yeah? Dr. Lindsey will do those with you, and I'll be right here when you come back," she smiled up at the boy before Dr. Lindey moved him to a wheelchair and took him to the X Ray room, leaving Y/N and Grayson alone in painful silence.

"So this is what you do? This is where you work?" Grayson was the first to speak after a couple of quiet seconds,

She cleared her throat and nodded her head, placing her hands inside her white jacket, "Yeah. It's a paid internship so it's basically a job, what about you? What are you doing here?" She asked to make direct eye contact with him.

"Moved here after me and E graduated, looking for some roles and an agent," he spoke, his voice not as deep yet shakier than when he first spoke.

"Any luck with that?"

"Yeah. We've landed a few small roles here and there," he answered and she just nodded her head.

"That's good! I'm glad everything's working out for you," She gave him a genuine smile before continuing to fill out Caleb's paperwork.

"Listen, I know it's been 2 years but-," Grayson began to speak before Y/N cut him off. "-Grayson just don't. I'm at work right now, and it's enough seeing you after 2 years, but I don't really need this right now. I'm sorry," She apologized before leaving the room to get some papers before walking back in, thankfully Caleb was already in the room when she walked in.

"I'm going to wrap your ankle up with this and then you're good to go, buddy. Make sure you don't apply pressure on it for two weeks. And carefully when you're playing any sport, I don't want you back here," she said while wrapping his ankle up carefully. She gave Grayson the discharge papers, their hands touching each other for a split second before she pulled away waving them off before walking to where her team was.

"That guy was looking at you intensely," Reyez pointed out, earning a glare from her.

"Don't even start," she rolled her eyes before taking a sip from her water bottle that was on her desk.

"Wait is that the?" Jacob, one of the nurses, asked and she nodded her head.

"Yeah, that's him," she sighed, shaking her head.

"Holly shit Y/N, I knew you said he was hot, but girl? That man is hotter than-,"

"Mackenzie, don't you dare," Y/N joked towards her other co-worker, "God why do you do this to me? I was almost over him and then you put him on my path again? The universe hates me,"

"I'd go for it again if I were you," Mackenzie encouraged earning a glare from her.

"Alright, leave her alone before she starts to crumble, Mackenzie go fill out reports, Y/N go take a breather," Reyez ordered them around and they all nodded their heads, going on their way to do what they were told.

. . .

Soft snores began to quietly run past her lips as she drifted off to sleep, all before a feeling of suddenly falling down an empty whole woke her up. She shook her head letting out a quiet 'fuck' before turning to look towards the clocks on her nightstand, 3:30 AM being brightly displayed on it. Y/N let out a loud sigh, knowing she wouldn't be going back to sleep anytime soon.

Her mind suddenly clouded with knotted thoughts and notions, too many of them just to focus on a single one. She pushed her body up, just enough for her to reach over and grab the small yellow backpack that she lazily threw on the floor, pulling her journal and pen out before throwing it back on the floor.

She clicked the pen and opened the journal, blank pages waiting to be filled up, her hand delicately moved along the paper as she scribbled letters and words on the empty pages, thoughts clearing out of her head, one by one.

I saw him today. He looked different. He's grown. After it all, it has been two years. His voice is deeper too. He wanted to talk, but I said no. Maybe if I did, I would fall for him again, or something. I'm doing just fine, so why did he have to move here. Anyway, Reyez finally allowed me to take care of patients by myself today. It was fun, I liked it, I guess. Luckily I'm free tomorrow because I can't sleep at all now. Maybe it's the repeating thoughts of him running through my mind, or just simply the lack of melatonin in my body right now. I'll probably go to the park tomorrow, stop at the cafe first then make my way there, but anyway, I'm going to try and sleep now.

It was a quick entry, nothing special, just her major thoughts being written down, just enough for her to feel better. She got up from the bed walking over to the kitchen grabbing a water bottle before leaning against the counter and sipping it. She crossed her bare legs over each other, looking out of the big window in her living room. Her favorite part about the apartment? It was the window that looked down on bright LA city. Y/N could sit there for hours and not notice the time pass by, she knows this because it happened before. She left the kitchen and walked towards the window, propping her body down on the small couch she had in front of the window. She laid her head on her hand, watching the few cars that sped down the street, the small yet bright red lights disappearing into the distance as her eyes followed them until they could.

Her eyes softly closed as she laid down on the couch, drifting off into another universe. The next morning she woke up at around 8 AM, doing her daily routine, except she stopped at the Cafe, picked her things up, and made her way to the park. It was an old park, there was an old playground that seemed like it hadn't been used in years. She sat down on an old bench drinking her coffee as she watched the scenery.

She didn't take her notebook out, her mind not having any thoughts, or at least no thoughts relevant enough for her to write down. She just took her time to take her surroundings in. She admired how the wind moved the trees, yet they were so strong they didn't crack. The way the birds lifted off whatever surface they were, and drifted off into the sky. She admired the rare butterflies that randomly appeared just to disappear once again. She simply admired the earth, something that she didn't do quite often; Always being too deep in her thoughts to actually study the things around her.

"They're beautiful aren't they?" Grayson's voice spoke out of nowhere, making Y/N do a slight jump in her seat as her heart raced.

She brought her hand up to her chest, a sigh falling past her lips as she glared at Grayson who was chuckling, "You fucking scared me,"

"Sorry," he sighed, sitting down next to her.

They both let out sighs. Both knowing that there was no escaping the conversation that was about to happen, a conversation that was long due.

"You could, hmm, you could go first," she spoke after a few moments of silence, throat dried making her clear it in the middle of some of her words.

"I'm sorry about yesterday. You were working, and Ummm, it wasn't the right place or time to talk about things. I'm also sorry because I never gave you an explanation as to why we should've broken up. After all, you didn't ask anyway," He softly spoke. He thought every word through, studied each meaning before letting them run past his lips.

"I didn't ask because it's what you wanted. Your decision was clearly made. I mean, I don't think breaking up with someone is a spontaneous thought is it? Your decision was made, and if you felt like I was holding you back, then I had to let you go, if I loved you, then I think I did the right thing." Her words were careful too. And quiet, so quiet feeling that if she spoke too loud the things around her would break.

"I didn't want to break up. I felt like it was the right thing to do, you know? We were always so busy, and we made time for each other, but it was exhausting. And when you were out with friends, I felt like I was annoying you or something," he sighed and she shook her head, the thought of her ever getting annoyed at Grayson's presence being absurd.

"Oh God absolutely not," she chuckled, "I thought I was annoying you. Like I wondered if you talked about me, or not. I wanted to know if I annoyed you because I felt like I did,"

It was true. In her journal, multiple pages were filled out with her question herself on whether Grayson talked about her or not. Even after the breakup, she wondered if he'll ever need her. Most pages were about him, all of her thoughts revolved around him, always.

"I did. All the time, to the point where I said your name subconsciously," he smiled, remembering the conversations he had with his friends about her, and how great she was.

"I did too, well not say but write," she sighed, leaning her back on the bench.

"You wrote about me?"

"Grayson you know I did, that's a dumb question," She shook her head, taking a sip of the coffee that was somehow still warm.

"Do you still write about me?" He asked and she stayed quiet, not knowing whether she should answer truthfully or not.

"Honestly speaking, I do. I write about everything that comes to mind, so sometimes? Yeah," she sighed, knowing that it would be easier if they just told the truth.

Maybe this was the closure that they both needed, yet never got. Maybe this was going to help her fully move on from him, and have thoughts that don't include her.

Or maybe not. Maybe this would help them reconnect. Y/N left it all up to the universe. She was a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, and that you can't change your future since it's already written about. When she got home after a couple of hours she took a shower, lit on her favorite candles, and did the expected. She took out her notebook and wrote.

We spoke today. He told me the reason why we broke up. It wasn't an intentional meeting though, I was just admiring nature. I was looking at the butterflies I think. He randomly spoke. And I know it was long due and needed so I just told him to say it. It's better to just get it over with than to just keep pushing it back, I think. He told me why he wanted to break up, which right now, sounds like a valid reason. I just wonder why he didn't just say it back then. It would've saved me a lot of nights, don't you think? He now knows I write about him, and where I go to write about him. Maybe I shouldn't go there anymore. It sounds out of this world I know. But maybe, just maybe, I should just close that chapter in my life.

There are just too many memories of him at Beachwood. That's where he surprised me the first time he came to visit. And it's where I write about him the most. I could find another cafe near here, there's plenty.

I just wonder if we're ever going to see each other again. If I'll ever fall for him again, if that is even possible. Because I don't think you could fall for the same person twice, right?

That was the last page in her journal. All the pages filled with her delicate letters, her writing being eternal. Filled with on-going words until the end, where an unanswered question laid. The weight that was once on her shoulders began to fade, and for once in her life, the thought of her future no longer made her afraid.

This is the first time I’m proud of a something I wrote, so if this flops, I will deactivate! Just kidding, sort of. Anyways, yeah, I feel like my writing has improved, and as always, if you have any tips, and/or constructive critism, please, please, please drop them in my inbox, and don’t worry, I won’t say your hurting my feelings lmfao!!

Tag List: @guiltydols @evergreendolan @ydolanssss @rhyrhy462 @resilientdolan @simplyxdolxstyles @simplyxdolxstyles {If you wanna be added to my Tag List, just let me know :) lol}

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13uswntimagines · 4 years

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Baseball Showoffs (Rose x baseball Player!Reader)

Request: reader x rose, maybe the reader is a baseball player and is up against the Braves aka Mr. pugh and then maybe the team hosts a watch party for the game

Authors Note: Hey dudes, so I might have gone a bit crazy with the baseball terms. I also happen to be a big Yankee’s fan, so if you don’t like them, you can totally switch the teams. I hope you enjoy! Feel free to send me feedback or just hit up my page if you wanna say Hi!

Team bonding was a normal occurrence for the national team. It was typically a time filled with movies, stupid games like truth or dare and Dawn approved snacks. But today, it would be centered around a different kind of game.

It was the Atlanta Braves taking on the New York Yankees, or as far as the team was concerned, you verses Dansby Swanson (more like Rose vs Mal, but everyone was too afraid to say it).

“I didn’t think you two liked baseball,” JJ muttered from beside Rose, tossing a handful of popcorn into her mouth. The woman in question rolled her eyes.

“We don’t, but Y/n looks hot in the uniform, and her little celebrations are adorable,” The midfielder smirked, wiggling her shoulders as if to prove her point. The two of you had been dating for 4 years, and in that time you still couldn’t convince her that baseball was remotely interesting. She only watched to see your bat flips and dance moves. You had recently been traded to the Yankees in the hopes that you could bring them the winning spirit from the Nationals (which they had lost after Jeter retired, or that at least what you told her).

“Y/n has been killing it this season. She has like a .370 batting average” Ashlyn snorted, shoving popcorn in her mouth. She wasn’t a giant Yankees fan, but after the Braves defeat of the Marlins, she couldn't support them in good conscience.

“Dansby isn’t bad either though, it’s like a .33,” Kelley argued. She wasn’t a huge baseball fan, but she had to rep for her state.

“Yeah, but y/n has 16 home runs, and it’s only their 12th game, Mr. Pugh is going to have his hands full for sure,” Alyssa countered with raised eyebrows. Sure she didn’t like the Yankees as much as she liked the Cubs, but almost anyone was better than the Braves.

“No offense to y/n, but my money is on the braves,” Kelley said nudging Rose, who nodded in understanding.

“That’s right, gotta rep our home team,” Emily nodded back, giving the frat daddy a high five.

“Aren't they away this week?” Mal asked with furrowed eyebrows. .

“Y/n isn’t in grey so yeah,” Rose nodded. The only reason she knew that was because she thought you looked sexier in the blue pinstripes than the ugly grey one (though she much preferred the red uniform of the Nationals).

“Is that how it works?” Megan questioned, suddenly interested now that the fashion choices were the center of attention instead of batting averages or whatever.

“Yeah, the home team wears white pants and bats 2nd” Kelley nodded, returning her attention to the TV where the 1st inning came to an end after a strikeout.

“Y/n has got a damn good batting average and home team advantage, so she’s going to crush Dansby,” Rose mumbled and Mal rolled her eyes. There was no way that you were going to beat her boyfriend.

“Well Dansby’s up to bat, so we’ll see just how they match up,” JJ laughed, enjoying how riled up the team was getting for a sport that everyone claimed to not like.

*****

The New York sun was bright as you paced back and forth in the area between 2nd and 3rd base waiting for the next batter to be ready. You were frustrated that Dansby had managed to get into first, and with Riley up to bat, you were sure you were going to be getting some action soon.

You squared up to home plate, crouching slightly as Garrett got ready to throw the next pitch. The ball came off the bat like a rocket, slicing towards you as Dansby ran towards 2nd. Just as he rounded the base You caught the ball and tagged him as he passed you for a double play.

“Couldn’t have given me that one?” He winked at you after the 3rd vase umpire called him out. The two of you were pretty close considering you hung out at lots of USWNT matches.

“Not a chance, now stop trying to impress your girl and play smart, shoulda stayed at second,” You smirked back, tapping his chest with your glove.

“Ooh, like you aren’t doing the same thing,” He laughed back.

“Never said I wasn’t, but it seems to be working out a little better for me, I just made an amazing catch” You held up the ball to prove your point.

“Maybe you should go for something a little less subtle,” He shrugged back good-naturedly. Your girls weren’t big into baseball, but you were sure that your leaning catch would at least draw you a “good job” from Rose.

“We’ll see, there’s a time and a place for everything,” You smirked at the man, shoeing him back towards the dugout.

******

The team watch with bated breath as you edged your way off of second plate. It was the bottom of the 7th and your team was still frustratingly tied with Dansby’s (as your 2 run homer had been matched by 2 individual runs from the other team).

“ the braves better be careful, Y/l/n has the highest stealing average in the league,” Ashlyn chimes in, and right in cue you made a break for 3rd base.

The pitcher had been onto you, sending the ball towards Dansby, but you were already one step ahead, leaping over the man and landing safely on the plate.

“God she so cute,” Rose sighed dreamily as you stuck your tongue out at Mr. Pugh.

“She just stole a base and that’s what you say?” Kelley snorted. Yes her team was losing, but she had to admit that you had some serious skill.

“She’s got dirt in her nose,” Rose shrugged, smiling wider when you did a little happy wiggle as your teammate stepped up to bat.

******

The team crowded around the TV, far more interested in the outcome of this game than they thought they’d be. It was the bottom of the 9th, the bases were loaded and your team was down by 2. You needed to hit a run to win.

The women watched as you tightened your fingers on the bat, the commentators mentioning how your famous left-handed swing was similar to Rose’s.

“They should change the names on their jerseys, none of the fans call them by their own last names anyway,” Julie snorted, as the commentator went on about how this matchup was ingesting because you and Dansby were dating USWNT players. It didn’t help that you and him kept interacting every chance you got.

“Y/n and I have the same number, so they don’t wanna confuse the fans,” Rose retorted with an eye roll.

“She’s batting lefty?” Sam asked surprised. Every other time you were at-bat, you had hit righty. It was strange to see you switch it up.

“Yeah, she’s a switch hitter. It’s probably to trip Soroka up,” Kelley shrugged. Their pitcher was known for having issues with lefties, and you guys needed a hit to win, so that was most likely your motivation. They just switched Anderson for him, so you changed that is too.

“Soroka is solid. There’s no way she’s getting another hit off of him,” Emily fired back. The dude had one of the highest strikeout rates in the league, there was no way you were going to get anything more than a double. You were dangerous at-bat, and had already scored big, it was probably why they put him on the mound.

“10 bucks?” Kelley asked with a raised eyebrow, holding her hand out for a shake. Emily snorted, slapping the hand.

“Deal,”

*****

You tightened your hands on the bat, your eyes taking in every detail of the pitcher. The bases were loaded, you were down by two, you needed a hit to keep your team alive. Soroka nodded at the catcher, winding up for the pitch. You had watched enough of his games to know what that windup meant. The ball seemed to move in slow motion as it left his fingers and screamed its way towards home plate, right down the middle in his famous fastball. You took a deep breath and swung the bat, a crack resounding throughout the stadium when it made contact.

You watched the ball as it sailed towards the wall, standing frozen on home plate as it went. The fans roared when it came to a stop on the second deck of the stadium, a wide smile breaking across your face. You flipped your bat high and began the long trot around the bases, the fan’s cheers and the stadium’s fireworks the soundtrack to your success.

“Now that’s how you impress,” You smirked cockily at Dansby as you rounded 2nd base. He was a good friend to you, but scoring a walk-off grand slam in the bottom of the 9th was the ultimate euphoric moment and it totally deserved a little bit of cockyness.

“Whatever Y/L/N” The man smiled back shaking his head and low-fiving you as you passed him. You had beaten him in your competition to out show off to your girls this time, but he’d get you next time. Somehow, some way.

As you jogged towards home plate, the camera zoomed in on you. You tapped your number, and blew a kiss towards it, hoping that Rose knew that you had hit that grand slam for her, to impress her. (unknown to you she caught the kiss through the T.V. and put it in her pocket). Sure she didn’t like baseball, but she loved you.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #rose lavelle x reader #rose lavelle imagine

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hiimsociallyawkward · 3 years

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Dear Lara Jean,

HI. so i watched TATBILB: A&F a few weeks ago, and I have some words. Before I begin, i'd like to preface that i'm literally 17 and have no film experience, and that I've read this book once maybe 4 years ago but here it is.

ps. if you haven't gotten it already: there will be spoilers. Heavy spoilers.

first of all, i'm sorry but i really didn't like the little edit things. Maybe I've reached that point in my life where I don't f with that anymore. Like when theres a drawn house and it slowly fades so it's real life?? no thanks

the music choice... I honestly didn't have that big of a problem with it, but my korean friend kept going "wtf is this music choice" so i'm quoting her on that.

the filming and editing. well maybe it's just me but I didn't really like it. yk when you're watching a youtuber and they do those zoom in things and it's sort of fast and funny? I think there were a few times the movie did that and i didn't like it.

literally, lara jean looking directly into the camera?? it feels like it's breaking the 4th wall and maybe they're doing it to be edgy but no thanks i didn't like that either.

WHY???? Her breaking the 4th wall added NOTHING to the movie. It just took me out of the experience. I especially didn’t like it when they did it in PS I still love you when they temporarily broke up.

THEY SET THE MOVIE IN OREGON. WHAT WAS THE REASON. THE BOOK WAS SET IN VA, AND I LIVE IN VA SO I FELT A CONNECTION TO THE BOOK. AND THEN THEY GO AND SET IT IN OREGON. WHAT. WAS. THE. REASON

OREGON DIDN’T HAVE TO DO ANYTHING WITH THE COLLEGES. THEY’RE STILL PRETTY FAR AWAY FROM STANFORD. IN THE BOOK, UVA WAS CLOSE BY SO LJ WOULDN’T HAVE TO BE TOO FAR AWAY FROM HOME. NO OFFENSE TO THE STATE BUT WHY OREGON. THEY COULD OF PUT THEM IN CALI AT LEAST

ONE OF THE REASONS WHY LJ WANTED TO GO TO UVA IS BECAUSE HER FAMILY WOULD BE CLOSE BY. BY PUTTING THEM IN OREGON, YOU TAKE AWAY THAT REASON. i just want to 👊 whoever’s idea this was

FURTHERMORE: THEY CHANGED UVA AND UNC TO STANFORD AND NYU. I AM INFURIATED. THE WHOLE POINT WAS THAT THEY WANTED TO GO TO UVA BECAUSE IT WAS LIKE 10 MINS FROM WHERE THEY LIVED AND IT'S A STATE SCHOOL. LARA JEAN FELT LIKE THE WAS GAURANTEED TO GO TO UVA AND WHEN SHE DOESNT, IT ACTUALLY HURTS THE READERS.

in the book, LJ was waitlisted from UNC, rejected from UVA, and accepted to W&M. I’m sure you can find like 40 people at our school who can relate to this situation. I doubt 40 people in our school can relate to being rejected from Stanford BUT accepted to NYU. dear writers, please give teens across the nation (your target audience) realistic expectations for college admissions.

YOU'RE GONNA TELL ME THAT PETER AND LARA JEAN WERE ACTUALLY QUALFIED ENOUGH FOR STANFORD. LEMME JUST SAY, I'VE APPLIED FOR COLLEGES THIS YEAR AND I FEEL LIKE I HAVE A PRETTY GOOD GRASP ON WHAT IT TAKES TO GET INTO CERTAIN COLLEGES. YOU'RE TELLING ME THE TWO OF THEM. REALLY. GOT. INTO. THOSE. SCHOOLS. pls.

DON’T GET ME STARTED ON THE KISSING BOOTH. ELLE AND NOAH ARE POSSIBLY THE DUMBEST CHARACTERS I HAVE EVER WATCHED. I DON’T SEE THEM DO A PAGE OF HOMEWORK AND I DON’T EVEN THINK THEY ATTEND CLASS. LIKE MAKING A KISSING BOOTH FOR ONE FUNDRAISER FOR A CLUB THAT CONSISTS OF 2 PEOPLE DOES NOT COUNT AS ENOUGH TO GET INTO HARVARD. but that’s a different movie...

this is literally the idea that television and movies have in making it super easy to get into ivy leauges. as if some in state college isn't up to society's standards of where or where not it's ok to go to college. it's when gabriella montez goes to stanford, troy goes to berkely, ryan evan goes to julliard, teddy duncan goes to yale, cody martin is accepted to princeton, HANNAH MONTANA does to stanford.

and lara jean wants to study english lit. she never says “i want to go to stanford because of their great english lit program”. it’s only “i want to go to stanford because my boyfriend is going and i have no other life outside of him

fine. make your characters seem awesome by making them go to awesome colleges. but still. this is upseting.

you know how awesome it is to hear UVA, the college I've always wanted to go to, in a published book? and for them to just rip it away- espeically when UVA is so attainable?? Yea yea movie directors, i get it, UVA isn't good enough for you. whatever.

They had AT LEAST 5 MONTAGES. 5. FIVE. WHO NEEDS THAT MANY MONTAGES. To quote my friend "the movie is all montage and 30 mins of plot" AND I CAN'T FIND IT IN MYSELF TO DISAGREE WITH HER.

AND THE DANCES. I REALLY DIDN’T NEED TO SEE NOAH CENTINEO DO WHATEVER HE CALLS “DANCING” IN 2 MONTAGES. I know everyone fell in love with noah in the first movie, but i’m pretty sure everyone fell out of love with him in this one.

again, i know nothing about movies, but 5 montages?? it seems like you're just filling space and trying to make everything seem ✨awesome✨ and ✨amazing✨. SURE. everything might be awesome and amazing, but this movie was 1 HR AND 55 MINS. and you decided to add 1 HR of montages? WHy. AND. one of them was in slowmo. i can't

THEY HAD VOICE OVERS THROUGHOUT THE WHOLE MOVIE. sure. 1 at the begin and 1 at the end, I think that's cute. BUT THE WHOLE MOVIE?? WHY. like bruh- have a focus.

literally did anyone read the freaking book? Remember how- in the book right? Margot was actually really not ok with Trina bc she's sort of replacing their mom? and Margot is rlly not ok with it but gets over it?? see how that was summarized in like 5 seconds in the movie? Oh i'm sorry you used all your time for the movie making STUPID MONTAGES but can we get some actually emotionally beats next time?? thanks.

ok this is a big problem i have with the movie. in the 3rd book, peter tries to have a relationship with his dad who ran away from him years ago. He struggles with that relationship the whole book. This is good stuff. people can relate to this. the scene in the diner where peter “confronts” his dad was CRINGEY. It could be noah’s acting but i couldn’t take him seriously. AND HE FORGIVES HIS DAD AFTER 30 SECONDS. the movie tries to include these smaller storylines but can’t because of the time limit. i’m no screenwriter, but i’m sure there could have been a way to subtly move that plot line during the entire movie rather than that one conversation in the diner

and in the book, peter has to train for lacrosse so he has to eat healthy which stresses him out. i specifically remember him getting mad at someone (maybe it was john ambrose, i don’t remember fully) for EATING HIS CARROTS. this just shows that peter has a life too. he has to worry about lacrosse along with losing lj. but no, the movie makes him look like the perfect boyfriend who has no other worries in life except for the girl in front of him

remember how- in the book (right?? bc they had a book to go off of???) Stormy was a part of the 3rd book? like a BIG part?? They LITEALLY just used her as John Ambrose's grandmother (WHICH IM PRETTY SURE THEY DIDN'T EVEN DO IN THE MOVIES). literally, stormy and john ambrose were throw away characters in the second movie and i am infurriated. BUT ALSO I LOVE JOHN AMBROSE HOW COULD THEY DO THIS TO HIM??

and remember, how in the book, how the dog's name is "Jamie Fox-Pickle" and they changed it to HENRY??? where is the flavor. what was the reason. SERIOUSLY.

BUT ALSO. CORRECT ME IF I'M WRONG BUT THERE WAS A POINT IN THE PLOT WHERE PETER'S MOM TOLD LARA JEAN TO BREAK UP WITH PETER. DOES NO ONE ELSE REMEBER THAT?? AND THEY CUT IT ALL OUT OF THE SCRIPT?? LIKE WHY. WHAT WAS THE REASON.

ok those are my biggest book grievances I think. but lemme just say, they NEVER went to NEW YORK. They literally wrote that in for the purposes of NYU. in the book, Chris and Lara Jean DRIVE to UNC because that's ATTAINABLE. BC THEY'RE STATE UNIVERSITIES. ANYWAYS

LJ’s and Chris’s spontaneous trip to unc showed their friendship in a good way. I never really liked chris as a friend to lj but during the trip, they are besties and it shows. the movie tries to do that in ny but peter is also in ny for some reason. she should have fell in love with ny WITHOUT peter at her side nagging her to sneak out and go on a date. she should have spent more time with chris rather than thinking about peter while she was watching the band.

the scene where Lara Jean is in New York and at the party and she sees the band? To all the boys I've loved before: Always and forever?? more like To all the boys I've loved before: gay awakening time.

when they moved the pink couch to the subway? WHy? They wanted snazzy pics.

when Lara Jean and Peter were making up and it was a really cute sequence AND THEN THEY MADE HER LOSE HER V CARD. FINE. I GET HOW THAT'S REALISTIC BUT IT WAS A CUTE SCENE. MY FRIEND ALMOST STARTED CRYING AND THEN LJ LOST HER V CARD AND WE COULDN'T STOP SCREAMING.

this is different from what was in the book (for the 100th time). In the book, they don’t do it and it shows that you can be in a high school relationship without being physical. I strongly appreciate that message. This darn movie had to have her lose her v card. WHY. IT ADDED NOTHING TO THEIR RELATIONSHIP. THE YEARBOOK SIGNING WAS SYMBOLIC ENOUGH

the montage where it's a montage of all of lara jean's and peter's cute moments?? ok fine. that was cute. but they literally just took scenes from past movies. imagine the impact if we like hidden moments from their relationships. maybe they're laughing in the car together. maybe they're watching they sunset. maybe peter is looking at her lovingly while she sleeps. WHAT IF. it WASN'T a montage of all the "bigger" moments of their relationship, and we got to see them just exist.

UGH. THE VOICE OVER AT THE END OF THE MOVIE IS SO CRINGEY I CAN'T

"WE AREN'T LIKE OTHER COUPLES. NOT US, LARA JEAN AND PETER KAVINSKY. BECAUSE WE HAVE SOMETHING BETWEEN US. WRITING LOVE LETTERS" please. b freaking s

Some redeemable qualities

while i didn't like most of the songs, "like me better" by lauv will always be loved. especially since it's a call back from the first movie?? I can ftw

WHY WASN’T “LIKE ME BETTER” THEIR SONG???? I really thought it was a good song to be their song and they referenced it in the beginning. No offense to the “beginning middle and end” people, but i felt no attachment to that song.

they customized her phone. it looked like it was a 7 (idk rlly, i don't know crap abt iphones) but they customized it. Granted, I KNOW lara jean would be the one with the aesthetic background with color coded folder, but still- they did give her relevant apps. some to note include; tiktok, spotify, instagram, netflix, notes, messages, facetime, maps, whatsapp and the STANFORD APP?? whatever- i'm chill.

they did make lara jean make choices so that was good.

the prom ask?? That was cute. with the pancakes??

at the end when Peter played the song even though earlier he didn't like it?? I liked that. i liked that a lot. ok fine i more than liked that a lot. There are multiple texts where my friends are screaming at each other. In fact, 26 separate messages.

chris in general. granted, she was more present in the books, but i'll take what i can get.

some notable quotes by her, the queen

"I'm dead inside"

not wanting to do a gigantic walk down from the stairs and asking the boys not to turn around

peter said he liked lara jean's forehead kisses and that reminded me of emma chamberlain so that's a positive only bc of emma

I remembered that they were the class of 2021, and I'M class of 2021 and it just hit for a second.

my friend cried over their graduation but i felt nothing bc we're literally living in a pandemic and chances of me getting a real graduation?? we'll see

again, these are all just my opinion. my friend doesn't like the movie bc she says she's sad and bitter and seeing these cute couples makes her feel lonely but i'm just diappointed. the books were GOOD. they were gold.

there was so much they could’ve done with the movies, and i just feel like they didn’t deliver on anything. Jenny Han, i’m sorry. The movie overall, ik someone who cried about it and someone else who gave it 7/10. props for them but jeez i just wish for more.

ok but that’s the show folk. i mean, obviously everything i said was opinion and literally don’t listen to anything i’ve said. BUT. feel free to add what you hated or loved abt the movie too. thanks. i love you guys. “always and forever” :,)

p.s- omg not them ripping off taylor swift. jk jk. ok bye

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vanessakirbyfans · 3 years

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Vanessa Kirby suggests we meet on the Mall, the central location for her on-screen triumph as the young Princess Margaret in The Crown. I’m standing outside the shuttered Institute of Contemporary Arts when she strides into view, a slender, leggy figure with bleached hair and brilliant blue eyes, clad in trademark black, but for her gleaming white Converse trainers.

"I haven’t been here since we were filming!" she marvels through her mask, gazing up the processional avenue towards Buckingham Palace. "I was whizzing up the road on a motorbike, holding onto the back of Matthew Goode [as Antony Armstrong-Jones] and feeling so exhilarated about what on Earth was happening to my life – being in a job I loved, playing someone I loved."

Her ebullient mood was dented when Margaret’s handbag, into which she’d put her own phone, was blown away from between her feet, and an opportunistic passer-by ran off with it. "By the time I could check Find My iPhone, it was already in Leicester Square," she says. "Of course, the costume department were furious because the bag was vintage and a one-off." We both laugh, rather ruefully, for such anecdotes already seem to belong to a more carefree time. This bright, crisp lunchtime in lockdown, the Mall is all but deserted –there would be no need for roadblocks or filming at dawn today – while the roles Kirby is here to discuss are light-years away from her embodiment of a pampered royal party girl.

The morning of our meeting, Pieces of a Woman has launched on Netflix to rapturous reviews and critical acclaim that has seen Kirby, in her first lead role, picked as a front-runner for the award season’s most coveted best-actress gongs.

It is not, however, an easy watch. Kirby plays Martha, a first-time mother whose baby dies moments after being born; the film follows Martha’s subsequent disintegration, alongside that of her close relationships. Her labour, which comes at the start of the film, is some 26 minutes of one unbroken take that manages to be simultaneously intimate and menacing as the camera swoops around the apartment and hovers beside the traumatised protagonists.

Kirby’s performance is astonishingly unselfconscious, which is the more surprising since she never went to drama school (turning down the offer of a place at Lamda in favour of stage roles at Bolton’s Octagon Theatre) and says she couldn't bring herself to dance in front of her friends. "I’m the one who sits in the corner and watches." She describes seeing herself on-screen as "disconcerting", and "not a very natural human experience", and indeed even finds making Zoom calls a trial. "There’s nothing to hide behind!"

For Pieces of a Woman, the director Kornel Mundruczo decided that the birth scene would be the first to be shot, she tells me, as we stroll around St James’s Park, conducting ourselves like a couple of spies in a Le Carré novel. "I knew I’d have to be naked, and literally open my legs and give birth in front of a group of strangers I’d only met that morning. I was actually quite thankful – I thought, the rest of it’s going to be a lot easier."

In fact, she says, she found herself swept away by the emotion of the story. "Normally, it’s so hard to forget there are machines in your face, but I had no idea that a camera was even there." Was it traumatic to act? "The first time we shot it, I was literally sobbing for 10 minutes afterwards. I couldn’t get out of it. My brain was telling me it wasn’t real, but my unconscious didn’t know the difference, especially with having a real baby in my arms.

"Kornel came over onto the bed and held me so tight. He didn’t let go of me for five minutes, and he said, 'Just remember this feeling.' That really helped me for the rest of the movie, when the character doesn’t express anything, but almost has to be doing the howling without speaking a word."

Kirby took her research seriously, even asking a mother-to-be –a total stranger – to allow her to be present in the delivery room at the birth of her son in a north-London hospital. "I remember every single second of it," the actress says emphatically. "I was there, glued to my seat, for seven hours, not even a loo break! I was just amazed, in awe. I saw a woman completely surrender and go on this spiritual journey, which involved indescribable pain, clearly, but also ecstasy. It gave me a whole new respect for women and how powerful they are, and a new empathy for men, because they feel so helpless. And obviously, seeing the baby come out was the most incredible thing in the world I’ve ever seen, by far. After he was born, all of the mother’s colour returned, she looked like an angel, she had a kind of holy glow." Bathetically, it was only then that the couple recognised Kirby. "They were going, 'Oh my God, it’s Princess Margaret! This is so weird!'"

The experience has given her a new philosophy on life, she says. "I was watching the mother go through these contractions, which were excruciating, and the pushing, and then there was a moment of calm, and of expansion. And so, when I’m going through things in my life, I say to myself, this is like a contraction, surrender to it, because there might be something born from it. Sometimes we don’t want that; when we’re feeling something horrible, we want it to pass as far as possible. I’m teaching myself to allow it to be there and not resist or push it away, and that’s because of that woman."

But her character’s storyline also demanded that Kirby understand the experience of stillbirth. A friend introduced her to a woman who had lost her baby Luciana under eerily similar circumstances to those in Martha’s narrative. "She shared everything with me." They have become close friends, and the film’s ending is dedicated to Luciana. Kirby continues to work with Sands, the Stillbirth and Neonatal Death charity, and is voluble in her admiration of the Duchess of Sussex and Chrissy Teigen, both of whom have recently spoken out about their own experiences of miscarriage.

"I feel so close to them and so proud of them for breaking that silence," she says. "Meghan is probably the last person who would feel comfortable sharing her very personal, intimate feelings. It’s that courage that I want to continue to honour. What they’re saying is, if you’ve been through it, we have too, we share your story. I think that makes you feel less lonely. But one in four pregnancies ends in miscarriage, which is far more than I knew about. Society finds it difficult to hold space for that kind of pain."

Her parents, to whom she is very close, have both seen the film and wept throughout, she says. As if on cue, her phone pings, and her eyes soften when she checks the message; it’s a childhood friend who herself miscarried, getting in touch to say how much the film has meant to her.

The integrity of Kirby’s performance has already netted her the Volpi Cup for Best Actress at the Venice Film Festival. "It doesn’t seem real," she says. "I have it in its case – I wouldn’t have it on display, it looks like a football trophy – but occasionally I glance at it and think, 'Did that really happen? Or did I make it up in a weird dream?'" In a similar vein, she is reluctant to engage with the Oscar buzz surrounding her. "I don’t even know when they are," she admits. "My 13-year-old self would have a heart attack. It’s ridiculous, isn’t it!"

Kirby’s other film, The World to Come, is set in mid-19th-century America but touches on the same themes of bereavement and redemption. The central character Abigail, played by Katherine Waterston, has also lost her young daughter, and in her grief, turns away from her husband to have an affair with Tallie, her free-spirited, flame-haired neighbour. "I was glad I was playing Tallie rather than Abigail, because it might have been a bit too much," Kirby confesses – though without giving away spoilers, that role is pretty traumatic too...

The screenplay is taken from the short story of the same name by Jim Shepard, which was inspired by an entry he found in an antique diary: 'My best friend’s moved away, and I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again.' "It was one woman’s voice, like an echo from the past, and we’ll never know who she was," says Kirby. "The World to Come really educated me about what life was like for women not that long ago. They didn’t have a choice about anything they did with their time. You were owned by the house, and the man, and you had no freedom outside that. The best thing about doing this mad job sometimes is having your ignorance illuminated. I gravitate towards things that push beyond my experience, I want to go to places I don’t know, I’m not familiar with."

The experience of making both films has changed her profoundly. "I can’t do anything unless it means something to me now," she says. "It’s a better way to work, because you’re not focused on yourself at all. So maybe I’ll only work once every 10 years!"

To ensure that this is not the case, and in order to find more untold, female-led stories, her ambition is now to set up her own production company. "Even a few years ago, a film about a woman losing a baby would have been unthinkable. There are so many voiceless people, and I have a voice in this industry, and I want to make sure the tribe is represented properly."

It is undeniably awkward, therefore, that her male co-stars in the films, Shia LaBeouf and Casey Affleck, both of whom play violent, abusive husbands, have been called out for their treatment of women. In December, the British singer FKA Twigs filed a lawsuit against LaBeouf, her ex-partner, alleging that he "hurts women. He uses them. He abuses them, both physically and mentally". While LaBeouf largely denied the accusations, he admitted in a statement to The New York Times: "I have a history of hurting the people closest to me. I’m ashamed of that history and am sorry to those I hurt. There is nothing else I can really say."

Meanwhile, Affleck was sued by two female crew members working on his 2010 film I’m Still Here, one of whom accused him of sexual harassment. He denied the allegations, and the lawsuits were settled out of court, but he later told the Associated Press: "I behaved in a way, and I allowed others to behave in a way, that was really unprofessional, and I’m sorry."

Kirby is understandably reluctant to get into any of this. "I can’t comment on a legal case that’s going on in someone’s personal life," she says. "I feel really protective of Pieces, so that’s what I want to speak about. Because it came out at eight this morning, all I can think about is the mothers I spoke to, and wanting them to be my focus. I just know my job is to honour them."

Perhaps counter-intuitively, starring in Pieces has awakened in her the desire for a family of her own. "It’s definitely made me want a baby, for sure," she says; but she hasn’t currently got a partner, having split up from Callum Turner (Frank Churchill in last year’s Emma), whom she met when they co-starred in the 2014 film Queen & Country. "This year has made me think a lot about the home I want to create. I like the idea of inviting someone into a space that’s mine, preferably before I have kids."

In the near future, however, Kirby has nothing on her plate except for getting through a third lockdown. "I’m free as a bird! I’ve read a lot of stuff, and said no to a lot of stuff..." She currently shares a flat in Tooting, south London, with her sister Juliet, an assistant director, and two friends. "I was just about to move out to live on my own in north London – my God, I would have been so lonely! My sister saved me. It was so nice to have routines together. We were trying to take a bit of exercise, cooking together, watching films that made us feel better, drinking wine on Friday nights..."

By now, having circled St James’s Park several times, we are strolling back towards the Corinthia Hotel, where Kirby has a full programme of Zoom interviews lined up for the afternoon. "That’s why I’m so happy to have actually had the chance to go out and meet you in real life," she says enthusiastically. "It’s funny when everything in your life closes down, and you have to sit with yourself, and you suddenly notice all the things you have and you’re grateful for. I hope that feeling never goes away – I will never underestimate how lucky I am."

#Vanessa Kirby #Pieces of a Woman #The World to Come #Interview #Articles

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introvertguide · 3 years

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10 Game Changer Films

Over the past century, there have been many movies that were marked with quality acting and quality story telling. Some movies are genre defining and remain memorable long after the movie is released. Some movies are perfect little 2 hour pieces of art. And beyond that, there are movies that transcend genre and change the way that movies are produced and viewed. Here is a list of ten movies the changed Hollywood cinema. There is no way to rank them in order of importance because they all shaped the way movies were made and presented at the time, so 10 are listed in order of date. Feel free to add suggestions for game changer movies in the comments. This is a list of American films and doesn’t come close to all game changers, but these 10 stick out in my head whenever I am asked for examples:

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The Jazz Singer (1927):

The movie that marked the end of the silent era, this was the first feature-length motion picture with synchronized recorded music and lip-synchronous singing and speech. It is has six songs performed by Al Jolson. It is the story of a Jewish boy who wants to become a singer despite the traditions of his devout family. The boy is caught singing and decides to run away from home, change his name, and become a famous jazz singer. He tries to disguise himself while performing at one point and makes the unfortunate choice of putting on black face. It is kind of hard to watch, but the advent of the “talkie” changed the way audiences enjoyed movies from that point on.

Steamboat Willie (1928):

This was the first Disney cartoon with synchronized sound with a fully post-produced soundtrack. It is also considered to be the debut of Mickey Mouse. The layered drawings have a realistic feel and are impressive today despite being almost 100 years old. Also, nothing beats that iconic opening sound of the film in which you can hear the film reel behind the sound of the lead character whistling. Animation became a genre at that moment and has done nothing but grow and improve, but this seems like the seed that started it all.

The Wizard of Oz (1939):

Generally considered to be one of the greatest films of all time, this juggernaut of a film was not considered best Best Picture nor was it even a financial success on first release. It was re-released and played on TV in 1956 and is now considered the most seen film in movie history. What really makes the film a game changer is the moment when Dorothy lands in Oz and she steps out her sepia/black & white home and walks into a world of Technicolor. Although many great black and white films where made after this film, it was a symbolic change for audience preference for color films. Kansas was so grey and bleak and the world of Oz was so bright and beautiful...it really is an unparalleled moment in film.

Citizen Kane (1941):

Considered by many to be the perfect film and the best Hollywood film of all time, this film is on the top of many “Best” lists. Director and lead actor Orson Welles used “deep focus” to make all aspects of the picture pop out at the audience. He was having difficulty creating some of the film angles to create this effect, so he would lay on the floor and even break into the stage to create the perfect shot. He also took the camera up to the stage light walkways to create others. The entire narrative was told in flashback from a group of unreliable narrators and the main character dies within the first 2 minutes of the film. The use of lighting and storytelling is an amalgamation of different techniques from around the world of film at the time, including some aspects made up on the spot. Watching the film now, it seems apparent that the bar for movies was raised 90 seconds into the film when the main character says “Rosebud.”

Shane (1953):

This film is not really known for being the very best acted, but it came out right when a bunch of audio and video technology improved simultaneously. The film was shot in standard ratio, but, due to the beautiful shots along the American Plains, was selected by Paramount to debut widescreen format. To get out the word, the film was played at Radio City Music Hall on a specially fitted 30ftx50ft screen. Not to let the visuals overshadow the sound, a new stereophonic soundtrack was recorded and played on an interlocking 35mm magnetic reel in the projection both. The sight of the sweeping landscapes and the echoing ring of gunshots was unlike anything that audiences had ever experienced while setting the standard for movies for years to come.

Jaws (1975):

From the opening scene with a young girl being attacked while skinny dipping in the ocean, the film caused legitimate panic amongst film goers. It also created the summer blockbuster which continues to affect how movies are released 45 years later. Spielberg became a household name and the use of the dolly zoom to represent a sudden realization became part of movie language. Along with the films simple and iconic score that made up for a constantly malfunctioning prop, this revenge story made thousands of wanna-be directors realize that it didn’t take a who lot to make an extremely successful movie. Camera trickery, good sound, and a descent plot could make any budding director into a millionaire.

Star Wars (1977):

Arguably the most successful film of all time, this story of the classic hero’s journey is epic and yet simple. There are few movies I have seen with better pacing because the time always flies by. The characters are relatable despite being robots, aliens, and wizards. The aspect of the movie that really made it was the special effects by Industrial Light and Magic. The famous “trench run” on the death star was something that was like a roller coaster on screen. How easy it was to get sucked in to the film is an influence on directors and movie production to this day.

Toy Story (1995):

This was a film that was actually the accumulation of over a decade’s worth of computer graphic technology. It is the first completely CG film and it is excellent. The film score is amazing, the graphics were far better than any audience had seen or ever expected, and it created an entire new way to manufacture a film world. This was also the first film for Pixar, which made far and away the best family films over the last quarter century.

The Matrix (1999):

This film might be somewhat arguable as a game changer, but one aspect of the movie is globally known whether you have seen the movie or not: bullet time. The fight scenes and the wire work for stunts along with the speeding up and slowing down of the film was revolutionary. That moment when Neo dodges the bullets that were shot at him while the camera rotates to show how close the misses were is phenomenal. The action set pieces are frequent with loud pumping music and it influenced audience expectations for how massive a fight scene could be. The judo fight between Neo and Morpheus, the rescue of Morpheus from the agents, the subway fight, and Neo’s enlightenment are all epic fights worthy of an entire film. It was an introduction to cyber punk that kicked in the door for a mass of violent and loud sci-fi films that continue to be cool to this day.

Avatar (2009):

A movie that was 15 years in the making due to a world created completely with computer graphics that interacts seamlessly with human characters, this probably the best looking theater film ever created. The story is not so great, but the world that is created is made specifically to envelop a theater audience. It is a two hour experience like no other and needs to be seen in a full 3D theater with surround sound. It made all other films up their visual game and is the second most lucrative movie in straight dollar amount and the second most lucrative film adjusted for inflation (despite being only 10 years old).

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This count of 10 is obviously debatable and many films are worthy of a spot on a list like this. This is a list of the 10 that amazed me and made me think that audiences would have changed their expectations of the film experience after seeing the film. If you have movies that have had this effect on you, please list them for others to enjoy.

#Avatar #the matrix #great movies #film history #top 10 #star wars #jaws #toy story #shane #the wizard of oz #game changer #introvert #introverts

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sophiexteresa · 4 years

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Thomas Sanders Instagram Q&A Transcript

From @thatsthat24’s Instagram story, 25/8/2020. Questions in bold. Text added to the story in (parenthesis/brackets), and descriptive info in *italics*. I tried uploading the video(s) too, but Tumblr is having issues, so here’s the transcript only!

Thomas: I had some time this evening so I figured, hey, why not? Another lil’ Q an’ A, so if you want to ask a question *posh French voice* be my guest!

When approximately will the next sanders sides be out? Very good question! Uh, we are aiming this for a late September release, that’s what we’re all working towards.

Favourite musical you have been in or just favourite musical in general? This is really tough, I can’t decide. I’m between Rent where I was in the ensemble, Peter Pan where I played Slightly Soiled, which was just one of the lost boyos — boyos? Boys — and, uh, Into The Woods where I played Cinderella’s prince and that’s where Roman’s first costume came from.

Are you ever gonna due your hair purple again? I loved it! Yes! I miss the purple hair too.

Do you love me? *laughing* Yes of course! I do love me.

What would each of the sides’ reaction be to seeing the Grand Canyon? *speaking very quickly* Roman would be revelling that we made the journey, Patton would be marvelling at the memories being made, Logan would be telling you to look at these fascinating signs for important information, Virgil would be telling you to ‘get back from those cliffs!’, Janus would be telling you to take pictures to make it look like you’re next to the cliff, ‘for clout’, and Remus would be like *Remus voice* ‘you could push somebody and get away with it’.

Also when will we get more Picani, I miss him? You and me both, Bri, and honestly with the amount of amazing cartoons that have come out recently *sighs while smiling* yeah, I am a-hankering (?) to get back to Emile!

How have you been doing, like really? Mental health is important as you teach us: I feel like everybody’s kinda struggling with mental health right now, especially people in the USA with COVID. Uhm *clears throat* for me I continuously struggle with the balance between work and leisure time, um, social media makes that difficult, blurs the lines, and I’m working on it.

Do you have any tattoos? Umm, I don’t, uh, I struggle with the permanence of tattoos. And like do I, can I, make a decision that I like? But! There are tattoos that I might like. Where I’d put them, I have no idea, umm, but I think like, maybe like, little stars!

What rank of “Gay” are you? Big gay? What rank? *speechless pause* uh... General. You know? I wanna do my duty. Come back a hero. An all-American Queero *gets an idea* *roughly quoting Hamilton* Queer comes the General!

Can you please make Logan day something Patton would say? *Logan’s voice* Something Patton would say? Umm... please, I request more baked goods from the kitchen so that I can fill Thomas’s body with more trans-fats at 3 am. I don’t know, I don’t like this game.

Have you ever dated a girl? *awkward silence* I have. It was pretty uneventful.

Do you miss your friends? *laughs* Oh... *face crumples as if he’s about to cry*

What are you voice acting in or are you now allowed to say? Not until tomorrow.

When did you know you were gay? I think I answered this one on the last Q&A, but it was early. I was like, 9 or 10 at least.

When will we see Gavin? Gavin has started school! He’s back in his hometown, so I don’t know when I’m gonna see him. He’s still getting taller — I can actually include a picture of him that his mom sent me after he got a new little hairdo *insert photo of an awesome Gavin here*

Do you miss vine? For like, sentimental reasons, yes. Uh, I mean, technically it had its issues and I don’t miss being restricted to 6 seconds anymore *laughs*

What has been your favourite part of the day? My favourite part of today was actually... I came up with this last minute short video, and I got it done and I sent it to some friends and they really liked it. I have to save it until Thursday thought, but it’s just nice to come up with stuff that makes your friends laugh.

Janus acting like Remus? *Remus’ voice* Remus here! Looks like the Dukey just dropped in! *Remus’ laugh* *Takes a breath and snaps into Janus’ character* I spend a lot of time with him so I’ve had a lot of practise.

Why do I feel like we’re gonna have another angsty Virgil moment? When is Virgil not being angsty...?

Please can you say trans rights? Uh, heck yah trans rights! I, uh, this one was very simple but I wanted to say it!

Do you think Virgil would be into anime? Actually, if you remember from, uh, Accepting Anxiety, uh, part 2, there’s actually a Death Note poster in his room, so he definitely likes some anime.

Hi! Can you say hola to the Hispanic fanders in el vecindario fander? Please? We love you! Oh my gosh, *a very naturally american pronunciation* hola! that’s very kind of you guys. I appreciate all of the support you guys give, and I love all of you guys.

STORYTIME! I love you: *upbeat voice* Storytime! I love you back.

How gay are you? Like, 15 gay! I rank General!

How did you end up meeting and babysitting Gavin? Gavin is actually Leo’s nephew, so he would come up here, uh, during the holidays or during the summer, and alternate being baby-sat between me and Leo’s mom - his grandma.

What was the inspo for Janus’ outfit? Ooh, that’s a really good question, uh... Joan had a vision in their mind for almost kind of like this early 20th century or late 19th century kinda Jack the Ripper vibe.

Any advice for gaybies to fit in with society? Don’t apologise for being yourself. If people have an issue, that’s their issue that they have to work through. Do not apologise for being yourself.

What type of gay are you? (Math gay, plant gay, caffine gay, etc): Wait, there’s such thing as a math gay? I am absolutely that, and I feel like I’m just gonna be naming traits about myself but I’m a trivia gay, a driving gay, apparently a math gay, a Disney gay *laughs* and a theatre gay.

Not a question but I’m glad to be alive at the same time as someone as great as you: Dude, this stuff is really sweet. *laughs* That’s really sweet, umm, trust me, I feel the same way about all of you. Honestly.

Why don’t you own a doggo yet? I... went to Petsmart today - I didn’t get an animal, but like... I’m thinking about it and this question is like... hmmm...

I’ve run out of cartoons to watch, any recommendations? Owl house! Owl house, owl house. I just tried it, and I immediately got hooked. Infinity train’s also a really good one, duck tales is amazing, and I’m getting ready to start Tangled: the animated series, so *shrugs*.

What is Patton’s opinion on rats? *adorable Patton voice, slowly zooming in on his face* They are tiny little squishy precious babies!!!

How do I ask people for their pronouns? I don’t know, I mean, I don’t think it’s like a big deal? I hope we could get to the point where we could just be like ‘what are your pronouns?’ and then they would tell you, and then you’d just, you know, carry on the rest of your conversation.

A circle has no bounds and it’s the same with your beauty: This is really precious, and it of course came from Nash (?) who is a poet, he published a lot of wonderful, wonderful poems on twitter, they are are amazing, and you are once again far too sweet, Nash.

Dream role? This is a pretty broad question, so maybe dream theatrical role would be Sweeny Todd, dream movie role would be anything in the marvel universe, uh, really just give me anything in any voice acting role, *smiling mischievously* egg rolls are also really good.

Can Remus please say ‘I am the sand guardian, guardian of the sand’? *Remus voice* I am the sand guardian, guardian of the sand! (love that vine)

Are there still plans for the Roman series? *nods* Oh, yeah, yeah, it was definitely hindered by COVID, uh, as was this Sanders Asides episode that’s coming up, which is why it’s taking longer in the editing stage, it is our, uh... strategy, for circumventing the obstacle, and we hope you like it.

Are we still getting an August playlist? Uh, heck yah you are! But honestly, actually, if you guys have any suggestions I should include in the playlist, lemme know! I’d be happy to get some suggestions - but yes. You will be definitely getting one.

May I please see your feet? *confused, slightly disgusted expression* *begins to move the camera away from his face* *holds up a tape measure, extended to 1 foot long* *grins*

Any shows on Netflix to recommend? Umbrella Academy is really good, Dragon Prince, uh, She-Ra, of course, umm The Hollow (?) is really cool, there’s a documentary about video games called High Score, that was really fun.

Roman, who would you say the gayest side is? *Roman’s voice* Oh, we’re all equally gay, okay? *chuckles* it’s a sexuality, not a personality trait. *takes a breath and speaks quickly* I’m just kidding it’s *sings* meeeeee!

If you were not a YouTuber, what would you see yourself doing and why? Uh, maybe putting my chemical engineering degree to some use. *laughs awkwardly* Uh, I went to school for 5 years for that one.

Like you literally make me so flipping happy: I’m glad! I don’t know what I’m doing to do that, but the feeling is absolutely mutual.

Can we have Virgil saying “Falsehood”? *hair already over one eye, in Virgil’s voice* Uh, c’mon, okay, sure. *very quietly and unenthusiastically* falsehood. Is that good? Is that? I don’t know, I don’t wanna steal his bit.

Which Sanders Side do you feel you embody most? Ah, I would probably say it’s either Patton or Roman because Patton can be definitely me, all the time, just really enthusiastic about things and finding things cute, but Roman... Roman’s sensitivity, oh. That’s me.

What was the first job you had? I actually worked as a page in a library! A- pages basically just kinda like, shelve books, check books out; it’s one of the chillest jobs I’ve ever had, one of my favourites, and my dad always had a lovely dad joke for it: ‘you’re working as a page, when do you get promoted to a book?’

How tall are you? I usually say 5ft 10, but I think I’m trying to be a little more realistic with myself. And I’m probably 5ft 9 and a half. *zooms in on his face, staring into the camera* I’m holding onto that half a foot for all dear life.

DROP THE SKIN ROUTINE PLEASE! This is very sweet, uh, I, *laughs nervously*, uh, I use Curology? They’re very nice. Umm, just... different kinds of lotion, I guess. (I suppose I should write down what I do lol)

Can we get a FALSEHOOD? *is standing* *clears throat* *points upwards from his eyeline* FALSEHOOD!

Do you have a boyfriend if not are you planning on dating soon? I do not, uh, dating is kinda difficult right now midst COVID, you know, kinda tough... love... in the time of Corona... umm, but, you know, option’s open.

When was your first kiss? I’m sure I’ve answered this somewhere, it was in high school, I might have been 15 or 16. It was with a girl. *Shakes head* And all I can remember is hitting teeth. A lot.

Can we get a super super vague hint about the new Asides episode? Alright, I’m getting ready to end the Q&A, so this, you know, if you’ve made it so far you deserve this super vague answer, umm... it includes a side that was not in the last episode. (This isn’t much, I apologise lol)

Thomas: And that is it for this evening! Thank you so much, you guys, for watching. I know some of you are still over in Europe watching and it’s like 4 in the morning, and I need to go to bed so thank you all so much for your questions - I gotta do this more often ‘cause I really enjoy it. Love you guys, gals, and non-binary pals. Peace out!

#edit: if you want to see the video(s) then please feel free to ask and i’ll try to send it to you! thanks so much #WOAH #This took me literaly hours to write up #probably 5 or so hours #i've been at it all day #anyhow tags!#thomas sanders #sanders sides #tss #tssides #ts roman #ts patton #ts logan #ts janus #ts remus #ts virgil #ts #if there's any corrections i need to make please tell me since i'm too tired to re-read

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snowdice · 4 years

Text

Goblin Brain Study Session Fic 1 [Day 54]

Because I don’t want to just have walls of text for my Goblin Brain Study Session posts, I’m separating them by days. If you want to read the previous chapters, click the links below. Chapter 21 and what’s done of chapter 22 is under the cut.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 My Master Post

See this post for more details and feel free to send me asks to keep me going! It’s been a lot of fun so far! I will reblog this post with the story as I write them today. Also, if you’re interesting, don’t forget that I am constantly updating the timeline as I write. :)

I have a zoom meeting in about an hour. Not sure if it will take long because it’s just supposed to be an organization meeting, but the time slot is for 2 hours. So... I’m not sure if there will be a random 2 hour break in this or not... But, anyway, time for Janus to murder his Virgil’s dad.

Chapter 21

Emile’s car, of course, did not have a built-in button that would let him into the bases outer gates like Remy’s would have. Instead, Remy had to get out of the car and put his face in front of the security camera. He waved and someone must have seen and recognized him because the gate swung open to let them through.

Remy climbed back into the car and Emile drove up towards what appeared to be an abandoned factory.

“Since you’re not an agent they’ll want us to go inside the shell building instead of down to the parking garage for security,” Remy told him.

Emile had never actually been to the base. He usually met with Logan at another location or sometimes Emile’s office and he met any patients in his office as well. Thus, he had absolutely no idea what parking garage he was talking about or where on Earth it could be, but he could figure out where Remy must want him to go because there was only one building in sight.

He drove down the driveway towards what looked like the main entrance.

“Weird,” Remy said as Emile pulled up in front of it. “There’s another car here.” They exchanged a glance.

Remy mumbled something that sounded like “damned kid,” under his breath. Then they were both scrambling to get out of the car the next moment. Remy went ahead of Emile because he knew more about this place and also Emile would not be able to stop him.

The door had been left slightly ajar and Emile could hear voices as they approached.

Emile heard Virgil’s voice (and thank god Remy was right about where he’d been going) say “you know my dad?”

An unfamiliar voice responded with a shocked. “Remy’s dead?” which was right when Remy made it to the door.

Without missing a beat, Remy threw open the door and said, “Quit telling everyone I’m dead!” Now Emile loved a good animated movie reference usually, but today he couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

There were a few seconds of silence before the one figure he didn’t recognize finished the quote by saying, “Sometimes I can still hear his voice.”

“Dad?” Virgil asked sounding all types of vulnerable and confused.

“Kid,” Remy said, “you are the bane of my existence. I’m dead for 5 minutes and you skip town?”

Emile watched Virgil’s face as he quickly adjusted to the fact that his father was not in fact dead, but simply an emotionally constipated idiot with a flair for dramatics. He narrowed his eyes.

“Yeah, and where have you been, old man?”

“Running after you once the wrist tracker said you’d booked it 50 miles away by the time I knew you were missing! Which then stopped tracking.”

“Yeah, well I threw it out a window because I thought you were dead and I’m not stupid.”

“Well your lack of stupidity has made my life a living hell for the past few hours.”

“Right back at you not-dead dad.”

Remy snorted a bit. “Come here pipsqueak. Your old man deserves a hug after you nearly gave him a heart attack.” Virgil still looked a bit sullen but went in for the hug anyway.

Virgil caught sight of Emile over Remy’s shoulder and drew back from the hug. “Uncle Emile,” he said, sounding relieved. “I tried to call you.”

Emile turned to glare at Remy.

“Oof,” Remy said. “Yeah, that one may have been my bad too.”

“I,” Logan interjected. By the look on his face, Emile could tell that his willingness to let Remy and Virgil have a moment was wearing thin, “also tried to call him.”

Remy just shrugged. “Yeah, well, boss, someone drilled it into my head not to give out secret critical information on unsecured lines and I am definitely critical.”

Logan gave him an unimpressed look and Remy shrugged and winked at him after a moment. He dug the flash drive he’d stolen out of his pocket and tossed it at Logan. “Oh, and also this.”

Logan caught it and raised an eyebrow at it. “What is this?”

“Enough information to want to kill me for it,” he paused. “Of course, that’s not a high bar considering she tried to kill me before I stole it.”

Logan put the flash drive in his chest pocket. “I’ll decide if I’m going to kill you after I look at what’s on this.”

“Fair enough,” Remy agreed.

“So, you’re a secret agent?” Virgil asked.

“Yep,” Remy confirmed. Virgil looked over at Emile.

“Don’t look at me,” Emile said. “I’m just a run of the mill psychiatrist.”

“Who gives therapy to secret agents,” Remy pointed out.

“Even secret agents need therapy sometimes,” Emile said, “and I already knew about the organization.”

Virgil turned back to his dad. “I’m mad at you,” he said.

“Ah,” Remy said. “Yeah…”

“Teach me to shoot a gun, and I’ll forgive you.”

“NO,” both Emile and the man he didn’t know said at one.

“Trust me,” the other man continued. “He doesn’t need to learn how to use a gun. He does just fine with a knife.”

Remy considered Virgil suspiciously for a few seconds. “What did you do, you little shit?”

“Remy,” the other man chastised.

“He’s heard a lot worse,” Remy waved him off. The other man frowned at him, but Remy just turned back to Virgil. “Now, what did you do?”

“I needed a ride,” said Virgil.

“What about a knife?”

“The knife… helped me get a ride.”

“Did you kidnap Patton at knife point?” Remy asked. Virgil just shrugged. “Kid!”

“And you allowed that to happen?” Logan asked, Emile presumed, Patton.

“He wasn’t exactly scary,” Patton said.

Virgil looked almost affronted. “I was terrifying!”

“Sure, you were kiddo,” Patton said. Virgil pouted at him.

“From what I understand, he also incapacitated one of Nelson’s men with pepper spray,” Logan interjected. He eyed Virgil. “We should have a conversation at some point in the future.”

“Logan,” Patton chided. “He’s 15.”

“I’m aware of his age,” Logan said.

Virgil looked at him. “Would you teach me how to use a gun?”

“Hey, if anyone is going to teach my child how to use a gun, it’s me,” Remy insisted.

“No one is teaching him how to use a gun,” Emile said. “He doesn’t even have his driver’s license yet.”

“If I agree to take drivers ed… then I can get a gun?” Virgil asked.

“Maybe,” Remy said.

“No!” Emile exclaimed.

“Okay, but Janus is not allowed to teach me to drive. He’s the one who told me the gas pedal was the break on that golf cart. I don’t want to crash another vehicle into a body of water.”

“Wow,” a new voice said from the door. Emile looked over to see a group of damp people walk into the building. Emile did not recognize four of them, but he did recognize the fifth. The speaker turned to Janus. “You must be cursed.”

A woman in the group turned to Logan. “We found your kids,” she said.

Chapter 22

33113

Janus did not respond to Roman’s quip about the car. Instead, he shoved past Roman the second he heard the boy’s voice. Roman recognized the kid immediately from the pictures he’d been sent along with his mission directives.

“Virgil,” Janus said, crossing the room to get to his little brother without regard to anything else. “Thank god. Are you alright?” He grabbed his face and titled it as though to look for injuries. Nothing about what Roman had learned about Janus in the past few hours would have prepared him for the way he descended directly into mother-hen mode, cupping the boy’s face with delicate fingers.

He was even less prepared for when Virgil shoved his hands away with an eye roll and a “I’m fine, Janus,” and Janus immediately started to cry.

Janus pulled Virgil into a hug, and Roman winced in sympathy for Janus’s injured ribs when the kid hugged him back tightly. They should really get that checked out as soon as the two of them had their moment. “I’ve been worried sick about you,” he said, voice all types of wrecked. The past few hours of worry that Janus had kept careful hold of lashed out suddenly, and it was even more than Roman had anticipated. “I showed up to the house, and you were gone, and the window was broken.” Virgil was getting a bit wobbly lipped himself, and Roman couldn’t exactly blame him with how gutted Janus sounded. “Where did you go? How did you get here? How did you know to come here? Did Logan send someone else after you?”

“Dad let the name slip,” Virgil explained, “and Mom sent someone to pick me up, but I’d already accidently heard that she’d killed him with the radio Dad keeps in his room. So, I really didn’t want to go with the man, and he was mean especially when I said no.” His voice cracked a bit as he spoke and he too started crying. “I didn’t know where to go or what to do. At first, I just wanted to get out of the city so Mom couldn’t find me. Once I was out, I decided to try to get here because dad said he worked with the owner, and no one was answering their phones.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Janus said. “That was my fault. I broke my phone. I should have thought about you wanting to call me.” He pulled back to kiss Virgil ever so gently on the forehead.

“Hey, what gives,” another man said, and Roman blinked because that was Remy Gates and Remy was definitely supposed to be dead. “I was dead, and I didn’t even get that much of a heartfelt reunion.” Janus seemed to freeze for a moment and then turned to him.

#study break stories #janus sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #creativitwins #patton sanders #virgil sanders #platonic moxiety #emile picani #remy sanders #logan sanders #kidnapping #murder mentioned #guns #car crash

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