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crackedpumpkin · 1 year

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|| ᴏʙʟɪᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴘᴛ. ꜰᴏᴜʀ || 2k12! ᴅᴏɴɴɪᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ||

a/n: Hello hello, and welcome to the final part of Oblivious! :) It's very delayed and a teensy bit rushed, and I apologise for that. I've been so busy with work, studying, and planning for my trip to Korea that I've been neglecting some of my writing lately. I'm currently backlogging chapters for various fics, so my good friend @theblindhag(Hey I know this is super last minute but can you help me out lol)) can help me post them when I'm overseas!

Thank you guys for loving this mini-series I continued from kite-anon's initial request. Kite anon, if you're seeing this, look at the legacy you've left behind lololol :) Enjoy!

[ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

“What do you think?”

You do a quick spin in the knee-length sundress you’ve just tried on, April humming in thought before giving you a thumbs up and a wide smile. You grin in response, giving yourself a glance over in the mirror.

“Do you think he’ll like it?”

“He’d be an idiot.” April snorts, dismissing your concerns with a simple wave of her hand. You giggle at her remark, doing one last twirl before nodding with a satisfied smile. You like the design and might even dare say that you look relatively pretty.

You pay for the dress, leaving the store with a quick thanks to the staff who assisted you both earlier. “I guess this was a successful hangout,” April says, handing you your shopping bag with the dress inside, transferring her own into her left hand so it won’t bump against your legs while the both of you walk.

“So, who’s this guy you’re going on a date with?” April hums with a teasing glint in her eyes. You hit her shoulder lightly with a playful scoff.

“I see, so this was all so you could get the details outta me.”

“Can’t help it if I'm curious.” She shrugs nonchalantly in response. “So? Who’s the lucky guy?”

“...Josh…”

“Which one? We have too many in our school. I swear, it’s like a plague.” She mutters.

You hesitate. “Josh Curtis.”

She gasps. “From Chemistry class?”

You nod with a sheepish smile, her wide eyes drawing a chuckle out of you. “I heard that he had a crush on someone in our class. Turns out it was you!” She gives you an impressed nod.

You laugh, pink tinting your cheeks as you shake your head. “I’m probably not them. I barely even speak to him.” You spot a cafe up ahead, relieved by a change in subject. “Didn’t you say you were craving a croissant? I’m starving. Let’s eat!”

April lets it slide with a raised brow and knowing smile, following you inside the quiet cafe. You order a latte and sandwich for yourself, along with a croissant and Diet Coke for April. You insist on paying since April took time out of her schedule to help you shop for your date.

You both sit in a secluded corner of the cafe, your phone vibrating in your pocket. You grab it, confused when you see the black screen. Ah. You reach into your pocket again, pulling out the T-Phone and answering the call without looking.

“What’s crackin’?”

“Not much, just wondering when you were gonna come over and pick up your jacket before your date.”

You pause, speechless, when you realise it’s Donnie on the other end. You fumble for words, April watching your visibly stressed state with an amused grin. Ever since that day when you had asked to go back to how the both of you were before, he had resumed as if nothing had happened.

Sometimes you catch the little forlorn glances he gives you, brushing it off as guilt for not accepting your feelings. It was a little off-putting, though, how quickly Donnie had adapted to it. Sure, you’re the one who suggested pretending as if the whole heartbreak thing never happened, but he was getting over it quicker than you expected.

You frown slightly. He could’ve at least pretended to be affected.

“My jacket?”

“Yeah, I helped you wash it. Getting the tomato stain out was a little hard, but I figured something out.”

You huff with a thankful smile, running your fingers through your hair. “Thanks, Don. You didn’t have to.” You say gratefully.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s no problem,” He replies with a chuckle. You feel your heart stutter ever-so-slightly, ignoring the sensation. It’s nothing to think about.

“I’ll swing by in a while, just gotta get ready for tonight’s date.” You glance at the clock, relieved when you realise there’s more than enough time to prepare. The server comes with the food you’ve ordered, and you thank him quickly before taking a sip of your latte.

“Alright, see ya then!” He hangs up promptly after his cheerful goodbye, and you lower the phone once the monotonous dial tone reaches your ears.

“So, how’s it going with you and Donnie?”

You choke on your coffee, coughing as you process the sudden question. April hands you some tissues, gently patting your back as she waits for your response. Your coughs finally subside, looking back up once you pull yourself together.

“It’s going fine. We’re back to being friends now.” You say calmly. Well, as calm as you can be after choking on your drink.

“Are you happy?”

You flinch. You hesitate, looking down at your cup and nibbling on your lip as you think of how to respond. It’s not that you aren’t happy. You had Donnie back as a friend and recently hung out with the rest of the boys. You even had a date!

So why do you feel like something’s missing?

You shake your head, ridding yourself of such thoughts.

You’re happy.

You are.

You have to be, right?

“I am,” You reply confidently, though the hint of uncertainty in your words says otherwise.

“Okay then,” She begins to eat her croissant. You smirk, an idea forming in your mind for some payback. You take another casual sip of your latte, setting it down and readying your ammunition.

“So, I heard that Jones asked you out in the hallway.”

You grin as she chokes.

— — — — — — — — —

“What’s crackin’?” You greet Mikey with a fist bump as he skates past you, making your way to Donnie’s lab after Mikey hollers his greetings in response.

You pause for a moment, taking a deep breath before you push the lab doors open. You hate how you still have to do that every single time, nervousness crawling around in your stomach like a worm about to consume its very first apple.

Donnie turns around, about to greet you, before his jaw goes slack, lips parted as he stares at you. You flush, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before subtly checking for any dirt on the dress you had bought. Was your makeup smudged? You’re pretty sure it isn’t.

You straighten your back, coming to your senses. Why were you even concerned about what Donnie thought? You’re happy with how you look.

You do a quick spin with a confident smile. “What do you think?”

As if your voice snaps Donnie out of his daze, he clears his throat, averting his gaze and nodding. “I-it looks good. You look good.” He stutters slightly, shifting to grab your jacket.

You take it with a grateful smile. You hear him swallow thickly when your eyes meet, taking the jacket from his hands.

It couldn’t be…could it?

Nah, it’s probably nothing.

“Thanks for all the flashcards, Donnie,” You add, pulling out the stack of conversation starters from your purse and handing them back to him. He takes it from you with a simple nod and grin, seemingly having composed himself.

“I hope you have fun on your date. Make sure you get back safe and stay away from the trouble hotspots that I warned you about. Call me if you need anything, and if it gets chilly, make sure you wear your jacket. If he tries to pull anything, just let me know, and he’ll never see the light of day again. Do you have enough money for the cab fare, just in case-”

“I’ll be fine, Donnie.” You cut him off with a laugh. “If anything happens, you’ll be the first I’ll call,” You promise with a playful wink.

“No,” He sighs, shaking his head. “I’ll accompany you there from the rooftops, just in case.”

— — — — — — — — —

The walk to the cinema is quiet.

You cast a glance at Donnie, who’s walking beside you, eyes skimming over the way the skin between his eyes furrows as his lips purse into a slight frown. You lick your dry lips, glancing back down at your hands.

“So,” You try to break the silence, tilting your head with a smile. “How’s it going?”

“Mmhm.”

“You good?”

“Mmhm.”

“You want some pineapple pizza?”

“Mmhm.”

You stop in your tracks. Donnie doesn’t notice, too engrossed in his thoughts. You prop your hands on your hips, brows furrowed in growing concern for your friend. “I got attacked by a Kraang last night.”

“Mmhm,” He hums again but pauses, rapidly blinking once he processes your words. “You got attacked by the Kraang?” His voice is filled with disbelief, hurrying back over to you and gently taking your wrists. He lifts them with worry, checking your arms for any bruises or scrapes.

You watch him for a moment, slowly placing your hands back down. He looks back at you with an uncertain gaze, breath stuttering when you look up at him with glitter-dusted eyelids, the subtle shimmer making the colour of your eyes pop.

You chuckle. “No, silly. You just looked so distracted. I figured this would be the only way to snap you out of it.” You spot the cinema up ahead and quicken your pace, wanting to avoid whatever awkwardness this entire exchange is.

“Well, I’ll update you on what happens,” You say, hands grazing the cool metal of the fire escape’s railings. You risk a look at him, only to find that he’s already staring.

Neither of you looks away.

The beep of your phone signals a message, serving as a medium for you to snap out of whatever the hell this staring contest is. You clear your throat, checking your phone to see a message from your date for tonight.

“Well, looks like I gotta go.”

You begin to walk down the stairs, but you’re stopped by a hand grasping your elbow. You turn back, looking into conflicted auburn brown eyes. You raise your brows, waiting for Donnie to speak first.

“I- uh,” He stammers, eyes darting all over the place. His hands are clammy, and you could easily tug your arm away from him.

But you choose not to, waiting patiently in silence.

He’s scrambling for words to form a coherent sentence, and the corner of your lips tugs up into an amused smirk. If you didn’t know better, you’d have assumed that he’s trying to confess to you or something along those lines.

But there’s no way, obviously.

“It’s nothing.” he finally says, meeting your gaze with a newfound resolve. You’re surprised by the sudden change in attitude, your arm falling to your side when he lets go. You’re…oddly disappointed.

“Okay…” Your steps are unsure, casting another look over your shoulder every few steps, almost as if you’re waiting for him to call you back – to stop you. Once you’re at the bottom, however, you look back up at the shadowed figure on the rooftop, watching him turn and leave the way you came.

Your heart grows heavier with each step away, glancing back into the empty alleyway before taking a deep breath and standing upright, rolling your shoulders back. You couldn’t have a date like this. It’d be disrespectful. You enter the cinema, looking around for Josh.

“Hey,” You greet Josh with a warm smile, walking up to the blonde head of hair you spot easily in the crowd. He moves away from the wall he’s leaning against, sliding his phone into his jacket pocket.

“Hey,” He grins, handing you a small bouquet of flowers. It looked clumsy, the ribbon slightly messy. It looked handmade. His eyes are anxious, seeking yours for some form of validation.

“Josh…” It’s too sweet of him, really. Your heart melts at the flush on his cheeks, accepting the flowers with a bashful smile. You take a moment to admire them, fingers brushing against the delicate petals. You look back at him, realising he’d dressed up for today.

He coughs, adjusting the collar of his shirt with a nervous smile. “Shall we?” He offers his arm out to you. You glance back at the entrance, your smile faltering when you remember Donnie’s gone. However, those thoughts are banished from your mind with a quick shake of your head.

You take Josh’s arm, and the both of you chat away as you walk to the theatre hall where the movie’s showing. The date is relatively peaceful, and you find yourself enjoying every moment. Josh is sweet, kind, and everything you could ever want.

But he’s not Donnie.

That in itself is enough to bring on a crushing weight on your chest, finding it hard to continue brushing off the wistful glances and goofy smiles Josh sends your way. Finally, the date ends where it began, having made casual conversation in the cafe next to the cinema’s entrance.

Now’s the hardest part.

“Josh…Listen,” You’re caught off guard when he smiles, eyes hinting at the fact that he knows what’s about to be said. His hand rubs the back of his neck, a soft chuckle falling from his lips.

Honest and sincere blue eyes meet yours, and the words die in your throat. But he nods, a silent encouragement for you to continue. God, how could you do this to someone so sweet?

“I’m sorry,” You start, cheeks burning in shame. “I really appreciate everything you’ve done, and I really hope we can continue to be friends still… Would that be okay…?”

He’s silent for a moment. “Sure. I’d like that.” He replies breathlessly, though his words are resigned. Your heart feels as if it’s torn in two, but he catches your eyes, smiling lightheartedly. “He must really be something, huh.”

“Yeah.” You manage a nod.

“Well, I hope everything works out for you. You can keep the flowers, by the way.” He gestures at the bouquet you’ve placed on the table. “They made you smile, and I’m happy enough with that.”

If you didn’t already feel horrible for turning down a gentleman like him, you definitely feel awful now. “Thank you. I enjoyed today.”

He stands up, hands in his pockets as he flashes you a grin.

“No problem.”

— — — — — — — — —

He wants to stop you. To tell you never to go near this ‘Josh’ guy ever again.

He pauses, steps slowing to a halt when he sees you smiling at something the attractive boy beside you quips.

This is wrong.

You didn’t have a thing for blue eyes. You preferred earthy tones. You preferred him.

Donnie watches you wave goodbye, walking past the alleyway he’s hiding in. You’re a few steps away from passing it. His heart stings in his chest, sucking in a harsh breath through his teeth with a wince.

You’re about to leave.

He feels nauseous. His stomach lurches slightly, the sensation enough to make him feel horrible. He didn’t understand why he felt this way, only that he was sure he’d lose you forever if he let you go now.

He doesn’t know what overcomes him, vaguely registering hurried steps, his arms reaching out to you. You turn at that exact moment, catching a glimpse of him in the corner of your eyes before he sees his hand wrap around your wrist.

You’re tugged back, falling into Donnie’s arms as your back presses against his plastron. Your breath hitches in your chest at the sudden contact. You don’t dare to look behind you.

You’re scared of what you’ll see.

You feel him inhale shakily, his warm breath sending tingles down your spine. His fingers curl around your wrist, holding it firmly. His touch is electrifying, but you dare not break the silence.

Your cheeks warm when he moves to wrap his arms around you, holding you flush against him. You can’t take it anymore; you’re sure your face is the exact colour of the traffic light only a few feet away.

You part your lips, afraid to let even a single word slip past them. Maybe your voice will come out shaky. You swallow thickly, willing your heart to stop beating so goddamn loudly in your chest. You hesitate.

“Donnie?”

— — — — — — — — —

tags:

@cowabunga101

@urfavarab

@mellytumbles

@etherealyblue

@shakeyourtrees

@theblindhag

@mikavoltron

@creat0r-cat

@gingerdraw-blog

#tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2012 x reader #tmnt 2012 x you #tmnt 2012 x y/n #donnie x reader #donnie x you #donnie x y/n #2012 donnie x reader #2012 donnie x you #2012 donnie x y/n #x reader #tmnt x reader

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camphorror · 11 days

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ok so hello people of tumblr. who wants to know what happened since i last regularly posted here????

i became friends with this girl at work i was loooowkey crushing on, we became too close way too quickly. she confided in me a month and a half into out friendship how she had a crush on a***d which caused her a sexuality crisis bc she was convinced she was gay until then. i felt weird but loved her too much to let something silly like this ruin the friendship. he started hanging out with us, i felt real fucking baaaaaad. life situations led me into telling a***d i liked him for ages. he said we're too good friends to ruin it, we're beyond that point! if i had said something earlier then maybe! then i found out he liked her!!! but he decided because of me he would stop talking to her!! i was living thru insanity bc of it. then me and him spent a month and a half being friends but also more than friends? but also "it's just good friends it's nothing romantic bc i said i don't feel the same i don't wanna ruin it you're one of the utmost important people in my life up there with my childhood friends blahblah" and we cuddled and hugged every time we met, texted every day after work until late at night, went thru a kissing/making out one evening after drinking a lot of alcohol drama. he initiated all of this!!! always!! i was in this weird grey area and thought everything is Fine because i know it's not a good idea

then almost a month ago he decided to ask her out! he didn't tell me in advance (despite the fact i told him if you ever choose to act about your feelings just say so). she did not tell me about it despite me being transparent with her all along, and despite telling me she thinks friendship is more important than all of this. so this went on for a week and a half, without me being told, whilst i was feeling weird asf and convincing myself i'm going crazy because of my anxiety bc everything was Normal. and then i found out thursday march 28th (haha a month ago exactly.. what a coincidence) because we were together and he said he can't wait for a "right time" like she wanted to. all of life collapsed from the feeling of betrayal from and anger at both of them. first i hated her, now i realised i hate him because he was at fault for all this messed up shit and took zero responsibility the one time we talked. i gave 2 of them chances to talk as some closure and we haven't spoken since. i truly hate him and think he's a shit person.

took a whole week off work after that first happened. was depressed at home. one day i decided to dress nicely and go meet my friend who just came back from abroad at the city of christ..... told her everything. then she took me to see a cool hostel i'd like bc it's in an ancient building. guy who works there studied with us but i didn't remember him lol. we talked & had wine then i got tipsy i overshared everything. he was the most charming and cute person i met.... (& a proper proper leftist too). we spent 3 hours there with him despite my friend wanting to kill me bc that WASN'T the plan. he was overly friendly, had a very interesting vibe.. esp abt the situation... then he told me how he's going abroad the next day and perhaps is gonna break up with his ldr gf... we sat together whilst my friend was in another room/on the side on her phone (I APOLOGISED PROFOUNDLY) and he even showed me pics of him from the gym... my biggest regret is when we left, had food with my friend and just got on the bus, he texted me on ig that i should come back to say bye again.. i didnt... then he came back from abroad last week and sort of said if i got the time i should come visit.. so of ci did lol but the Vibe was gone (as like... he didnt break up with the gf and therefore there was no vibe & i was fine with it lol). he asked me if i want him to teach me how to fight and i said yeah so besides updating him again on my woes we also literally fought with each other which was fucking fun. like he was properly teaching me what to do in a fight. i'm still feeling sore (that was 2 days ago) he is so cool and i wanna be his friend now that i am not cr*shing on him...

besides that life is still grim and i am going back to work in a day and gonna have to see those 2 people who ruined my life again aaaaand i know my mental health will take a dive. what do you even do when this shit happens

#txt #now i can be gone for another 6 months and update again i guess

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mynameisrobiniamadumbass · 10 months

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Hi hi! Gushing annon from earlier but no longer an annon.

This has been such a wonderful ride thank you for all of it. The ending feels so so fair and earned for the characters.

For the life series especially the ending of this fic being so brutal and gradually wearing down everyone’s hope the ending you made felt like they still won. I was so happy for them at the end of it and I was fully prepared for a tragedy.

I love comparing Scott’s deaths. He dies in the cold both times, but he keeps his eyes open for his second one and is restrained down by enemies. His last image is his sworn enemy and he wants to make sure his death is emotionally tough for him. Compared to his final death where he feels safe enough to close his eyes and his last image is his husband, the person he actually devoted his life too. He’s still semi held down but in more of a hug it’s so gentle and comforting. And this time Scott’s death is a massive relief to everyone there as opposed to a new stressor.

And Scott and Jimmy are still allowed to be stubborn in the end. The game wants a singular winner and they outright refuse to give them one. They still die but they die with as much agency as they can have in their situation. Which is sweet and so very in character for them.

Anyways sorry for the dump of text I just love when authors author. Thank you for writing, thank you for posting, thank you, thank you, thank you.

"sorry for the dump of text" they say as i cry tears of joy

never apologise for dumping an analysis in my inbox dude it is The Feeling Ever it is the reason that authors like me love to author

i have thought from the beginning that there was no way in hell this story would end with anything other than a proper end to the game (but not quite). it was never gonna end with them breaking the borders, but they were always going to wish it would.

the ending itself was always going to be some variation of what it was, but i didn't decide the specific details until quite late in the story. either way they were never going to fight each other and they were always going to be last.

as for the two deaths analysis, i am very impressed with it because most of those parallels were not exactly intentional but they also kinda were???? i'm gonna leave it at that because it's more fun if i just don't tell you :3

thank you for reading, thank you for sending this, people like you are genuinely the reason i post anything.

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mrs-march-ahs · 3 years

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how the evans would act when they have a crush on u ^^

How The Evans Act When They Have A Crush On You & How They React When You Tell Them You Like Them Too

Award for the longest title goes tooooo... me!

JAMES SUCKS BUT I MAKE UP FOR IT BY DOING BOTH KYLE’S AND A DETAILED KIT

Two other requests-

Could I please request how the Evans would react to their best friend (reader) admitting they're in love with them?

Heyo! I’m not sure how this would go but how would the Evan’s react to a nervous/insecure reader confessing to them?

-I hope this is satisfactory, even though I don’t think it’s what you two wanted<3

Enjoy! :)

Tate

-Would always just be interested in you

-Wanting to help you, watch you, talk to you, just constantly be around you

-But he’d also be insecure whether he was annoying you, so occasionally he would make himself invisible and just watch you

-Whatever hobbies you had, he’d love to watch you do them, paint, draw, write, play games

-If you played any instrument he would love to lay on your bed and listen to you, no matter how good or bad you were

-He would leave little sweet messages on the chalkboard and leave little post-it notes for you to find

-They would have fun little facts about birds or other trivial stuff but you would find them cute

-The occasional fact about something romantic, like ‘Every time you kiss somebody, your heart beat increases by 10-15 beats per minute’

-He might go a little far and leave a message like ‘Your dress looked pretty’, which you would find creepy since you didn’t know Tate was a ghost

Kit

-He thought of ways to tell you how he felt but because it seemed like your family was gonna live in the murder house for a while, cause you were all settling in well, he didn’t want to risk losing his friendship with you, since you were the only ghost with whom he really got along

-You walked down to the basement and said his name in a sing song voice, “Tateeeee”, “Come out come out wherever you are!”

-He showed up and you asked him if he wanted to go out on a real date

-He was obviously nervous, because you didn’t know yet that he was a ghost, but when he hesitated and you looked upset, he said yes right away

-You ran up and hugged him and kissed him on the cheek, making him blush and laugh, and whilst you were at school, he got some things ready and got candles and a table cover so make your kitchen look like a restaurant

-He ordered McDonalds delivery and got your chicken nuggets under a serving platter for effect

- “We are dining on, nuggets of the chicken”

-Although you were a little disappointed and wanted to go out on a real date with him, you found his effort cute

-He definitely played footsie with you under the table the whole date

-Definitely walked you to your room

- “Well… this is me…”

- “Just wanted to make sure you got home safe”

-Kissed you

oh my god I got so carried away

-You would first meet Kit when you first come and move to Massachusetts

-One day you want to venture out and get an taxi to go to town, only a few minutes later to realise you don’t have your wallet

-You awkwardly tell the driver that if takes you back home quickly, you can get money and you will pay him right away

-But since Boston men aren’t usually so sweet, he just kicks you out, leaving you to wander the motorway alone late at night, far away from your home and hoping to quickly find somewhere to go

-Eventually you stumble upon a gas station, and as you walk up, a hand appearing on your shoulder makes you automatically turn around and push whoever touched you to the ground

-The man in blue uniform gets up slowly with his hands up defensively, “Hey hey, didn’t mean to startle ya, miss”

-You apologise, feeling stupid for this kind of encounter, but he doesn’t seem to mind as much as you’d think

- “It’s always nice to see a woman able to protect herself”, he smiles

-He offers to drive you home, and you thank him dearly, explaining to him that you don’t have a car yet, having only just moved here

-He offers to take you to buy one, knowing an awful lot about cars, and to convince you further, tells you that any man working in a car salon will try to sell a single lady a piece of junk for a high price

-You agree, thinking that the offer is sweet, and he takes you to buy yourself a car, to make the date even more fun, Kit tells you to pretend you’re an old married couple

- “Miss Walka over here needs a car, good Sir”

-At some point while looking at cars, Kit holds your hand and you don’t even notice

-He negotiates a good deal with the salesman, and you get a car together

- “Your husband just got you an awfully good deal, Madam, he’s a man who deserves a good meal and a cold beer if I’ve ever seen one”, the salesman laughs, signing the last of the papers before handing Kit the keys to your car. “Oh, he’ll get more than that”, you say to tease Kit, before smiling at him sweetly. Kit blinks at you, before turning back to the salesman and shaking his hand. As the two of you walk away, Kit looks at you in disbelief, the thought of your dirty words clearly plastered in his mind. “Did ya mean what you said back there?”. He says, as he opens the car door for you. “Whatever do you mean?”, you act stupid. “I was just pretending to be your wife, Mr Walka”

-When he has a crush on you, he gives you sooo many compliments

-Little dirty innuendos

-Would definitely call you and talk to you late night on the phone until one of you fell asleep (house phone if they had them)

-He’s the kind of person to tell you that he got a visit from a cute dog earlier at the gas station and it made him think of you

Kyle

-Every time you go to get gas from Kit, he gives you only a little amount, so you have a reason to keep coming back

-One time when you go get gas from him, you forget your wallet again, and he teases you about it

-He lets you off and pays for your gas

- “I owe you, Mr Walka”

- “How about a date?”

-You smile at how confident he is, and nod excitedly, having been waiting for him to ask you for a while now

-Kit winks at you and waves as you drive off, completely melted inside about finally getting his girl

-Even though he’s always confident, he’s still a little shy and awkward around you when he sees you in class

-If all of his friends are in a class messing around, throwing stuff, being loud, and you walk it, he tells everybody to shut up because there’s a lady present

- “Hey careful, make sure you don’t throw it at her”

-It’s not until he sees you at a huge party, that he’s confident enough to go up to you

-Even though he’s more than happy to flirt, he’s just not confident enough to do that last step and ask you out somewhere

-He’ll bring you a drink and talk and flirt with you, and you’ll definitely get the hint

-He slowly lifts his arm up and stretches it over you, trying to do the classic yawn move, hoping you won’t notice or mind. You look over at him and narrow your eyes in fake suspicion.

- “Didn’t you come here with a movie star? Surely you get handsome men bringing you drinks all the time?”, he says, motioning to the drink in your hand.

“You calling yourself handsome?��, you tease him. Kyle laughs a breathy awkward laugh and nods. “Well yeah”

-When you do ask him for a date, he insists that he take the initiative to plan what you two do

-Clearly wanting to make a good first impression, he’d take you somewhere interesting

-Aquarium, in which he’ll make up clearly fake facts about the fish just to make you laugh

-Bowling, just so he can tease you about how much you suck

-Mini golf, so, even though you know how to play, he can wrap his arms around you and help you put

-And if he does take you to the movies, you aren’t spending a dime

-He’ll also wrap his arm around you not-so subtly

Franken Kyle

“Whatcha doin there, hm?”. Kyle leans into your ear and whispers.

“Just in case you get scared, you can cuddle up to me”

“Kyle we’re watching the Lego movie”

Jimmy

-You’re a witch at the academy, and with Kyle’s very slow progress to getting better, both Zoe and Madison are getting slightly tired of having to constantly take care of him

-But you don’t mind, finding his Frankenstein state cute

-Whenever he stumbles into the kitchen by himself you always help him make food

-If he’s ever struggling with anything, he usually comes to you, knowing you’re the most patient out of them all

-Then, one night, all the teens in the academy go to a party, while you lay in bed

-But when the rain starts to get really heavy and the first thunder growls, Kyle rushes into your room, before slowly knowing and peaking his head out, clearly scared

-You let him come and lay with you, rubbing his back to calm him down

-Although no real words are spoken, it’s from that moment that you decide to take on all responsibilities relating to Kyle, the good and the bad

-He’s admired you from afar for a very long time, ever since the first time you joined the circus

-You were incredibly flexible, and always showing off to everyone and practicing on stage

-He would always come and watch you practice, cheering you on more than anybody else

-You called Jimmy ‘my cheerleader’

-It made him blush every time

-Amazon Eve always told him to just ask you for dinner, but the only thing that stopped him was the thought that you wouldn’t want to go out and be seen with a freak like him, especially since your body looked so normal that you didn’t have to hide anything

-Eve and Paul reminded Jimmy that it’s him who’s always the most confident in going out into the real world, and he mustn’t be scared

-When they all plan to go to a diner together, as a protest to being shunned from society, you find his leadership charming and happily go with them

-Even though you all get kicked out, you calm Jimmy down and take care of him when his dad beats him up

James

-You wipe the scars on his face and tell him how brave you think he is

- Trying to gain confidence, you take a deep breath before making the move. “Maybe the two of us should go to that diner”. Jimmy looks up at you, as if he expects you to keep talking. When the nerves hit you all at once, you begin rambling. “You know cause if the two of us go and they’re okay with that then maybe we can start going with the others one by one, and then you know we’ll ease our way back into society and stuff”. You laugh a breathy laugh, but Jimmy says nothing. With every silent second passing, your heart begins to break. But luckily for you, Jimmy speaks up. “Wait, are you asking me out? Like… on a date? To the diner?”. “What if I were?”, you quietly reply. He smiles wide and pulls you closer to him, “I’d love that”.

-James is definitely the least subtle

-Constantly giving you compliments, kisses and gifts

-Opening every door for you and listening very carefully to everything you say

-He doesn’t want you to even think about another man, so he overwhelms you with every way he can show you he likes you

-I can imagine him organising a big ball or event at the hotel just so the two of you can dress up and go together

-He is also the most confident out of them all, although he is a softie around you, he has no trouble asking you anything he wants to you

-He’ll kiss your hand a lot and you’ll eventually get the hint

Kai

- “I would be most delighted if we were to make our relationship more official, and vow fully loyalty to one another”

-You agree and he is over the moon

-Once the two of you are in a relationship, the compliments, kisses and gifts don’t stop

-He will give you your space without him, but when the two of you are in the same room together, he treats your precious time together as if it’s sacred

-He will approximately 43 seconds into your relationship begin planning how he’s gonna kill you

-You can tell Kai likes you when he’s harsher on you than he is on other members of the cult

-He’ll be pissed at you for being a distraction for him

-He’ll definitely tell you when he’s impressed with you, when you murdered somebody or helped him plan something

-Even though he definitely would not want it

-If you proved to be smarter than him in any aspect, he’d be furious

-You’d be sat on his sofa while he’s talking to you about having to kill Sally because she’s getting in the way of him winning city council

- “Samuels looked at where she lives, and it has no back doors, no nothing, it’ll be impossible to get in her house without smashing windows and causing attention”

“Why don’t you get Ally to go to her first? If Meadow convinces her to go to Sally to talk about the cult, then the front door will be open”. Kai looks at you with angry eyebrows. “We’ll sit in the car and wait for a few seconds, she’ll let Ally in, won’t lock the door straight after her, and then let them talk for a minute before we just walk right in”

-His ego won’t let him take suggestions from somebody below him, so even though he wants to be proud of you for being smart, he’s mad

-He’ll sit for hooours trying to think of any other solution he physically can think of, to not go with what you suggested

-Around the cult, he’d treat you like everybody else though

- “Y/N’s idea was brilliant, Ally just walked in and they walked straight to sit down, she didn’t lock the door”

-He’d praise you to encourage you to think of ideas, which he would later be mad that you have

━━━━━━♡♤♡━━━━━━

-You’d find out how he felt about you during pinky power

-After being suspicious that he may have feelings for you for a while, you realised this is the only way to truly find out how he feels without him trying to manipulate you

-He’d ask you about something deep, and you’d latch on after he finishes a sentence to ask him your question

- “I have a question for you”

“Go ahead”

“How do you feel about me?”

Kai stays silent and continues to look you in the eye, taken aback by the question but not wanting to show it.

“When you’re with me, how do you feel?”

“I think you have real potential, you’re strong-”

“I’m not asking the Divine Ruler, I’m asking Kai, Kai Anderson”

He takes a deep breath before unintentionally breaking eye contact for a few seconds to think. You wait anxiously for the answer, and with every second passing you know what it will be.

“You’re special”, he starts, looking you in the eye again. “You’re valuable to the group, and to me. And I think you’d be a great… mother”. The last catches you off guard, not expecting Kai to be a family man or to think about this with you.

“You… you want me to… have your children?”

“I think our children would be indestructible, strong, powerful, decisive. They would be the seed of the better future”. Although it was a little forward for somebody you’ve never even kissed, you were beyond flattered, knowing how specific Kai is with traits in people.

“Let’s make a baby”, Kai says.

“Whoa whoa”, you laugh and unlink your pinky with his. “We’re not even dating, Kai”

“Why date if children is the ultimate purpose?”

“Then don’t look at is as dating… look at it… as getting to know the mother of your future children”

-Kai would love this and you’d soon end up dating

-And have like 6 kids

@milly-louise @amourtentiaa @kitwalker02 @tatestripedsweater @therenlover @maria-akira @tatesimper @thxc0untessesgl0ve @mossybank @ahsxual @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess @mrs-march-ahs-biggest-fan @kitwalkerangel @kitisagoldenretrieverboy @darlingkitt @blackbat2020@elaineygrace @kaiandersonskoolaid @undeadcortez @whiiiiplaaaaash

As usual, if you wanted to be added or taken away, dm me or comment!! I won’t mind! <3

1K notes · View notes

silverhallow · 2 years

Note

I saw this in a previous Ask you received, but could you pretty please write something about Benedict throwing hands at a ball when he sees someone being mean to Sophie, social norms be damned

I’m gonna post this as a drabble on Ao3 shortly but I couldn’t resist…

So here is Benedict hearing one of the other gentleman from that night talking about his wife…

it’s under the cut cause it’s a little over 2k

(yes I know technically not a drabble 😂😂😂😂 I got carried away… shock)

Benedict should have known it was too good to be true. The ball was going far too well, everyone so far had loved Sophie, the new Mrs Bridgerton was a delight and as he walked around the room with Eloise, whilst Sophie was dancing with the Duke of Hastings, he was revelling in people’s nice words and compliments about his wife.

They had stuck to a simple story, a version of the truth, that he had met Sophie in the country, that she was the daughter of a cousin of the Late Earl of Penwood, hence the family resemblance.

It had been at a local assembly they had met, fell in love, and married. Their courtship was conducted via letters, and when he visited the country. When people had asked about her family they had lied and said her parents died a few years earlier and she had been staying with a family friend.

People didn’t pay much further into that. Daphne and Violet had been very careful as to who they invited to the end of the season ball, the party that was celebrating Benedict and Sophie’s marriage and Benedict had not expected to run into any of them here.

Benedict and Anthony had paid Mr Phillip Cavender a visit the day Benedict got engaged to Sophie and they had made it very clear, that he was not to say a word, that he was not to breath in Sophie’s direction, that he wasn’t to even suggest that he knew her and where he knew her from otherwise they would have him dragged through the mud for his behaviour that night.

Cavender had been too terrified to do anything but nod and agree. Despite outward appearance’s he wasn’t stupid. With the Bridgerton’s and the Duke of Hasting’s most likely to be involved, he would be ruined and the scandal it would cause him… well it was easier to shut up and as he was still desperately pursuing Cressida Cowper, he agreed.

What Benedict had not banked on… was one of the other two belligerent drunk idiots from that night.

Eloise had been taken to dance by an Earl, quite unable to work out why she could not, she had agreed, reluctantly and Benedict was stood with his sister-in-law watching as Sophie was now dancing with Anthony. Kate had asked to sit this one out, having already danced once with Benedict, when Sophie was dancing with Colin, it was when they heard it.

“I know her”, it was a greasy, oily voice and Benedict knew it well… it was the man, if you could call him that… who had, had his hands all over Sophie “I’d recognise them tits anywhere”

“Benedict…” came Kate’s warning voice but it was too late, Benedict had seen red, not caring about public decency, behaviour or that this was his sister’s home, he whirred around.

“I beg your pardon” he said, his voice as cold as ice, his glare hot with fury as he glared at the man.

Heasley flinched, realising who it was in front of him, but drew himself up to his tallest height, which was still a good five inches shorter than Benedict “You married the housemaid” he said sneering. His voice was quiet enough than no one would clear but it cut through Benedict.

“Excuse me but that is my wife” Benedict practically roared. “And you will do well to treat her with some respect”

Heasley snorted “respect? God she must be excellent in bed…” his words were cut off by Benedict grabbing him by the throat

“Benedict!” Kate said, rushing to his side.

“You will apologise!” Benedict said his hand still on the man’s throat as he spluttered and gasped.

“I… I…” he stammered unable to say anything.

Anthony and Sophie had heard the commotion as they danced and had started making their way over when Benedict’s hand had shot out and grabbed the mans’ throat and Sophie had gasped running over, Anthony hot on his heels, Simon coming after them as well.

Daphne who was pregnant stayed where she was but there was enough of a commotion that everyone was looking over now.

Sophie ran over “Benedict, what are you… OH MY” she gasped as her eyes locked on who it was, and she went instantly pale

“Benedict! Unhand him!” Anthony said putting his hand on his brother’s arm. “We are in PUBLIC” he hissed.

“This… vermin” he spat, as he released Heasley who dropped to the floor gasping “was there that night”

“Oh god… oh god” Sophie was gasping, her heart going a million miles an hour.

Anthony turned to his wife “take Sophie away from this… please, take her to the drawing room and get a brandy” he said to his wife who nodded, looking down at the spluttering man.

Violet was making her way over, seeing the paleness of her daughter in law, the fury in her son’s eye, she knew something had happened but seeing Anthony and Simon seemingly had it under control rushed to her two daughters’ in law and led them out of the room, ignoring the whispers that were rushing around the room.

Simon grabbed Heasley by the jacket and hauled him to his feet “what happened?” he said, his eyes on Benedict.

“I heard comments… about my wife… and her… assets” he said, trying to find the words that were diplomatic, whilst ignoring the rage that beat in his ears, the fury pounding against his ears, trying to ignore the urge to demand satisfaction, to challenge the scum to a dual, or a boxing match to beat him to a bloody pulp.

He had expected comments about his wife’s faux background, but this… this would not be born.

Anthony turned furious eyes on the man who was rubbing his throat “you’re insane” the man croaked at him “all of you”

“That is my sister-in-law you are talking about” Anthony said, his tone every inch the aristocratic Viscount that he was,

“And mine” Simon said, pulling himself to his fullest height “and this is my home” he said furious.

Heasley finally had the sense to pale “I beg your pardon your grace, I did not mean to disrespect your home”

“No? Only my sister-in-law” Simon said menacingly.

Benedict was flexing his fists again and growled.

“You will leave this moment” Anthony said

Heasley scoffed “I did not think you would encourage your brother to marry a servant”

Benedict lost it, again, and he launched himself forward, only for Anthony to grab him “Benedict!” he said at his brother, furiously “either get hold of your temper or go see your wife” he said, his tone stern as he jerked his head around, there was still an audience.

This entire thing was going to end up in Whistledown, he just knew it. Benedict growled.

Simon turned to Heasley “I am assuming you have not spoken to your friend Mr Cavender in the last few weeks…”

Heasley paled again.

“You have two options here” Anthony said, his eyes flashing furiously

“One, leave immediately, never speak of this again, you have never met Mrs Bridgerton before and you will retain your place in London Society, outside of any of our presence of course”

“Or?” Heasley asked a little belligerently.

“Or we will make it known that you did in fact know Mrs Bridgerton and that you, like your friend, and other friend… attempted to rape her… in front of witnesses…”

Heasley paled.

“How long do you think your reputation will last… and how long do you think Miss Green will remain interested in you…” Simon said with a glare that would have made the Devil himself cower.

“Oh, and you shall apologise to my brother” Anthony said .

Heasley swallowed, looked around between the three men, all towering above him menacingly, his friend he had been talking, had moved away, and legged it and he was quite alone, and everyone was watching.

He had no choice “Apologise, Bridgerton… I meant no offense” he said, Benedict glared at him knowing it was not meant “and please apologise to your wife on my behalf, clearly I have her mixed up with someone else” he said before nodding his head to the Viscount, the Duke and then Benedict before turning.

“Oh, and Heasley…and pass his same message to your friend… Fletcher was it…” Benedict said, his eyes narrowing.

Heasley nodded his head and ran from the room quickly.

Anthony turned on Benedict “the hallway… now…” before turning to Simon “can you” he said nodding his head to the crowd.

Simon nodded and moved into the crowd, to explain it was just a misunderstanding, it was nothing and that Mr Bridgerton and Mr Heasley had a minor disagreement, and Mr Heasley had mistaken Mrs Bridgerton for someone else and that they could all resume the party…

Anthony dragged his brother into the hallway “Benedict, we are in BLOODY public! What were you thinking!” he scolded his brother.

Benedict glared at his brother “I am sorry, but he was commenting on Sophie’s tits, and how he knew who she was… I saw red… realising who it was…”

“Yes and grabbing him by the throat and fighting in public is the way to deal with it. And at your own party for god’s sake!” he yelled at his brother.

Benedict ran his hand through his hair “I did not think”

“Clearly!”

“But if it was Kate… if someone had said that about Kate…” Benedict said, his own defence, a low blow but he knew it was true. He had seen Anthony fly off the handle when someone had even suggested that Kate might have been compromised.

Anthony sighed “Next time just get me… or Simon, or both of us… do not think with your fists!” he said “there are far more gentlemanly ways to get rid of cretins like him…”

“Just be grateful I didn’t challenge him” Benedict said haughtily.

“Well, you know I’d have offered to be your second” Anthony said with a chuckle.

“Thank you”

“Let’s go make sure Sophie is alright?” Anthony said, with a sigh, his voice laced with concern.

Benedict swore, having forgotten Sophie had seen one of her tormentors and ran off through Hasting’s House and threw open the door to the drawing room with a cry of “Sophie… oh my love are you alright?”

Sophie ran to him, in a decidedly unladylike manner and hugged her husband.

Violet looked at her two sons and asked Anthony “what happened?”

“It is all taken care of… he will never darken our doorway again, any of us” he said, his words directed to Sophie mostly who was clinging to her husband.

“It was agreed that he had mistaken her for someone else” Simon said as he marched into the room “the party appears to believe me, they are carrying on…” he said with a small smile.

“Are you alright?” Sophie asked Benedict

“You’re asking me if I am alright?” he said, his eyes twinkling with surprise.

“Come, let us give them a moment” Kate said “we should re-join the party or people will think things are a miss” she said.

Violet and Anthony nodded and left the room.

“Are you alright?” Sophie asked again

“I am fine now… are you?” he asked, his hand on her cheek, caressing it.

“I am. It was a shock… but I am just… I am sorry you had to deal with him” she said sadly.

“Do not apologise for him” Benedict said “he is gone now, he will never bother us again, if he values his reputation”

Sophie’s eyes looked downcast “I knew… I knew we would have…”

Benedict placed a finger over her lips “shush…” he said “you need not worry everyone else loved you, I was practically skipping around the room listening to everyone gush over how much they love you… how they think you are perfect. No one else cares… so please…” he continued, his eyes boaring into hers lovingly. “Please do not think anymore and just think, two more weeks and we will be off to My Cottage, ready for some much-desired alone time” he grinned at her, a wicked glint in his eye.

Sophie blushed “I shall try” she said.

“That is all I ask” he said leaning down and kissing her. “Now come, I wish to dance with my wife again…”

“But we have danced twice already” she said as Benedict grabbed her hand and dragged her from the room

“And I plan to dance with you at least two more times” he said “I do not care if it not de rigure… If I want to dance with my wife… I will” he said.

Sophie laughed and let herself be dragged from the room.

The following morning when the last Edition of Lady Whistledown of the season arrived, it mentioned nothing of the fight, but it did mention that Mr Bridgerton was very much in love with his new wife, and that, it was refreshing to see a man not care of social conventions to show that he loved and adored his wife…even if it could have been deemed scandalous.

And Benedict, for the first time, was pleased at his mention in Lady Whistledown.

#ash’s prompts #ash’s drabbles #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #sophie beckett #benophie #anthony bridgerton #kate sharma #benedict x sophie

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biisexualemma · 3 years

Text

blood. klaus mikaelson

word count: 2159

warnings: mention of blood and tiny bit of swearing

requested: nope

plot: you and klaus butt heads until you.. don’t

a/n: this has been sitting around for ages, i wrote it months and months ago but i really like it and hopefully you do to! i have so many imagines already written (for everyone except oscar i’m afraid which is why the requests take so long) and waiting to be posted! so will probs be posting quite a bit for the time being. anyway, hope u enjoy!

masterlist

"oh," you stopped. your eyes followed from his head to his toes, you'd never seen so much blood. klaus stopped before he could bump into you. he wasn't expecting to see you before he'd cleaned himself up. his mouth opened as if he was going to say something, but nothing came out.

"hey," you mumbled, trying to ease any tension.

you hadn't seen klaus since you argued a couple hours ago. you were living with the mikaelson's while you were in town, you had known them for a pretty long time, they were always very accommodating whenever you needed it. you first met in mystic falls when you were young, and caught up with the salvatores. klaus had taken a liking to you, and you became fast friends despite his gruesome reputation.

but since he uprooted his family to new orleans, you didn't see him as much as you wanted to.

you'd been arguing about nothing. you'd be out late the night before with kol drinking, and you had an unfortunate encounter with another vampire. kol handled of course, but not before you received some bumps and bruises. but you were fine, you didn't think it was a big enough deal to tell klaus. but he did, apparently. he was pretty mad at you when you tried to argue it was none of his business whether you were safe or not. and klaus stormed out and you hadn't seen him since.

you knew klaus liked to let off a little steam, but he looked like he'd been up to much worse.

he didn't look so angry anymore, he looked tired.

"is—is that your blood?" your head tilted slightly. you almost wanted it to be his blood, because you certainly didn't want it to be anyone else's. you weren't scared of klaus, he'd never done anything to warrant you being scared of him. you'd heard stories, mainly from damon and stefan, but you never really paid attention. klaus was nice to you, so it didn't matter to you how he used to behave.

klaus glanced down at his hands, soaked in blood, along with his shirt and his neck and his face. "no," he gulped. "this happens to be the blood of your enemies."

your furrowed your brows. "my enemies? i don't think i have any enemies."

"that man," klaus spoke again. "the one that tried to harm you just last night. he was a part of a bigger group, preying on drunk, human girls. i took care of them."

your mouth hung open slightly. klaus looked away, he couldn't bear another argument with you about his murderous tendencies or his uncontrollable temper. he was sick of you looking at him like that, like he had two heads.

"oh," you were confused. klaus was mad at you the last time you saw him, and now he comes home telling you he's taken care of your enemies. "uh— i guess they deserved what they got."

klaus nodded. "if you don't mind, love, i'm going to clean myself up," he motioned to move past you, and you stepped out of his way, your mind was all over the place.

"wait," you grabbed his hand before he walked away. you quickly pulled away when he turned around, noticing the blood transferred now onto your fingers. you always hated the smell of blood. you pushed the thought aside. "are you still mad at me?"

he furrowed his brows. "no," he shook his head. "it wasn't your fault. those men were pigs."

you nodded, recalling what had occurred with the man the night before. you'd only lost kol for a split second. "right," you felt a twinge where the cut on your temple lay, your mind wandered. klaus noticed your lack of concentration.

"i was mad at myself," he admitted. his eyes were locked on you, boring into you. "i try to keep you safe. and you got hurt."

you shook your head, adjusting your attention to klaus's face again. "you weren't to know," you shrugged. you noticed klaus's eyes drifting from your eyes, to the cut on your forehead. you lifted your hand and touched the sore, scrunching up your nose a little. "it's not even that bad," you shrugged. klaus wasn't comforted by any of this though. "kol found me before things got too messed up."

"my stupid little brother should never have left your side," klaus snapped.

"klaus, come on," you pleaded. you couldn't get into this with him again. you couldn't handle him when he was angry, he was unreasonable. "if it wasn't for your stupid little brother i'd probably be dead in an alleyway somewhere—"

"enough," he stopped you.

"i'm just saying," you sighed, getting nowhere once again with klaus. he was so stubborn and angry all the time. "maybe you should just go take a shower."

his jaw clenched, taking one last look at you before turning away again and heading to take a shower as you suggested.

—

you knocked gently. "hey," pushing the door open that led to his bedroom, you saw him sat in his armchair, a drink in his hand. "sorry to interrupt."

he shook his head. "you're not," he gulped what was left in his glass, before standing to meet you at his door. "what?" he frowned when you looked down at your feet. "what's wrong?"

"nothing," you shook your head quickly after hearing the urgency in his voice. you ran your fingers through your hair, pulling at the ends like you did when you were uncomfortable. "i just wanted to apologise."

"apologise?" he repeated. "to me?"

"yes— obviously to you," your eyes met with his. he looked calmer than he had done in a while. you sighed. "i was being rude earlier, and i never thanked you for looking out for me."

klaus glanced away for a second. "you don't need to explain yourself to me."

"i know. but still," you shrugged. "i'm sorry."

he paused before he answered again. "don't be. we both spoke without thinking."

you nodded. you wanted to tell him. you weren't sure whether it was the way he was looking at you, or how he'd behaved in the past twenty four hours, or if it was just you overthinking again. you opened your mouth to speak but thought against it. you didn't want to open a can of worms. if klaus wanted to cross that bridge with you, you were sure he would've done it already.

"ok," you mumbled instead of what you really wanted to say. you took a step back. "i'm gonna go now."

"you sure?" klaus wore a slight smile. he always knew when you were holding your tongue. but this time, it was better for the both of you if you held your tongue. "you sure you don't want to confess your undying love for me while we're at it?" he was joking, but it still caught you off guard. clearly your face showed it. "kidding, love."

you let out a strained bout of laughter, taking a couple steps further back so you could leave his room. "good one," was all you could think of to say. "see ya'," you turned to leave quickly before this got any more uncomfortable, but when you did, klaus was standing in front of you again. startled, you hit his chest. "i hate it when you speed around like that."

"what just happened?" he queried, his eyebrows furrowed with a small confused smile on his lips. you tried to walk around him but he stopped you. his hand touched your waist and you pulled away. he frowned.

"i don't wanna talk about it right now," you admitted.

"wait," he pleaded, standing in your way when you tried to move around him again. he really didn't understand half the things you did. he wanted you to be able to talk to him. "is this because of that joke?"

"leave it alone, klaus," you huffed.

of course you had feelings for him. it was impossible not to. but he definitely didn't need to know about it. you two were good as friends, and if he'd ever felt the same way towards you he surely would've said something before now. so there was no need to get into it with him. it would only mess things up.

"what? did you actually want to confess your undying love for me? it was a joke, love," he let out a short laugh, confused by the way you were acting so suddenly towards him. then the thought occurred to him. "oh."

"yeah," you looked away from him for a second, sighing when he backed up. he hadn't expected this from you. you knew he would react like this, which is exactly why you hadn't planned on telling him.

"oh," he repeated.

"hey," you frowned, shaking your head. "don't worry about it. i know you're a loner type and i also know you don't feel that way about me. so, don't worry," it killed you to say it but you knew it was true. you told yourself the same thing every time you felt yourself feel things for him. it was your way of talking yourself out of it. though it hadn't worked so far.

"wait— i—" it was the first time you'd actually seen klaus speechless. he really had no clue. "you fancy me?" he let out a choked laugh.

"alright," you scoffed. "no need to be mean about it," you really couldn't see what he was thinking. he looked like a mixture of emotions.

"no," he shook his head. "i always thought you indifferent," he wore a teasing smile on his lips now, one you'd seen many times before. "i always thought you had a thing for my little brother."

"kol?" you frowned, letting out a small laugh. "ew, no."

"interesting," he was trying to process it. you continued to wear a frown, you didn't know where he was going with any of this.

"i'm gonna go before you make fun of me anymore," you moved around him, but he grabbed your wrist before you got far. you groaned. "klaus, what? you've had your fun with it, but it's really just mean to tease me about it."

he shook his head with that same small smile. "i've always fancied you, love.”

your face softened, klaus melted watching you react to his words. your hands fell to your side. "don't tease me."

"i promise you, i'm not."

"what?" you stated, rather than questioning. you shook your head. it was your turn to be stunned now. you never expected this from him. you dreamt of him feeling this same, but you'd always convinced yourself he never would. "i never thought you'd feel the same. klaus, your the most self-isolating person i've ever met. you could've hinted something to me so i'd know."

"sorry," he snorted. "i thought murdering a group of men for bothering you was hint enough."

you opened your mouth but closed it again quickly. "yeah," you nodded. "i guess you're right. i just didn't see it."

"are we all up to speed now?" he checked. you smiled softly, nodding.

"i guess so," you didn't know how to act now.

"good. can i kiss you now?" you nodded, freezing once klaus wasted no time in stepping closer to you. his hands cupped your face, his lips pressing to yours. you gasped softly, your hands moving to his shirt, you fisted the material and pulled him closer to you, deepening the kiss. he backed you up until you hit a wall, his hands moving to either side of your head. you moaned softly, your hands moving to his shoulders, gripping them tight to hold yourself up.

finally you pulled away to catch a breath, klaus moving his lips to your neck, where he peppered you with kisses. your chest was moving up and down pretty fast, the smile on your face growing.

you ran your fingers through his hair. "i wish i'd slipped up sooner, holy shit," you laughed, his face moving back up to yours and kissing your lips once more sweetly.

he hummed contently, a smirk on his lips. you took him all in. "i could get used to this."

"you," his hands slipped onto your waist, pinning you against the wall. "are beautiful," his fingers slipping under your shirt, running across your skin. "i don't think i've met anyone who puts up with me quite like you do."

you laughed, rolling your eyes. "yeah, you're kind of a handful," he squeezed your sides, causing you to squeal. he laughed, enjoying this side of you so much more already.

"watch it," he teased.

"kidding," you muttered, you leaned forward slightly, your lips almost touching his. "i wouldn't have you any other way."

klaus was in disbelief that someone could be so perfect. you knew him inside and out and you were still completely here for him. he loved you for it.

687 notes · View notes

helloalycia · 3 years

Text

my happy ending [one] // kara danvers

summary: your crush from work decides to make a move, but she keeps putting off telling you something that you don't realise is actually really important

warning/s: none

author's note: i'm still working on a bunch of stuff but here's some old stuff to tide you over as i do. this is part one to a two-parter! enjoy :)

part two | masterlist

I sketched out some designs at my desk, ideas for some new Instagram and Twitter marketing CatCo we were planning to do. I was in charge of social media marketing at CatCo Worldwide, so things like this were routine at work. What wasn't routine was the cute blonde, Kara, AKA Cat Grant's assistant, approaching my desk with a chirpy smile on her lips.

"Hey, Y/N," she greeted, before setting down a coffee cup in front of me.

I smiled automatically, Kara's presence instantly affecting my mood in a positive way. I glanced at the cup and quirked an eyebrow.

"Hey, Kara. Is this for me?"

She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose adorably. "I was picking up Miss Grant's order and I remembered you said you loved the chocolate orange hot chocolates Noonan's do. So, I got you one."

I felt my cheeks heat up. "Oh, wow, er, thank you. You didn't have to do that."

She shrugged, and I was sure she looked as flustered as I felt. "No biggie."

I took a sip of the hot chocolate and smiled at how good it was, but mostly because of who got it me.

"So, what are you doing?" she asked, walking around my desk and sitting at the edge. She glanced at my sketches and added, "Is that the new fashion post for our social media accounts? They look amazing!"

"Just some sketches, but eventually they will be," I said, before nodding. "And thanks. I just need the photos so I know what I'm working with. Gotta ask the new guy, James... you met him yet?"

Kara nodded. "Yeah, I just bumped into him earlier."

"Can you believe he knows Superman?" I asked with disbelief. "How awesome is that?"

She smiled with amusement. "Extremely awesome."

"Keira!"

Kara lost her smile when Miss Grant called for her, before looking to me apologetically. "I should–"

"It's cool," I said, nodding for her to leave before Miss Grant tracked her down. "Thanks again for the drink."

Kara flashed me a smile. "Anytime. See you later."

I watched her walk away, waving as she glanced over her shoulder. I found myself biting my lip to contain my own smile, feeling butterflies in my stomach.

Kara Danvers, assistant to Cat Grant.

Ever since she began working here, I found myself crushing on the blonde and her cute mannerisms. We were friends, occasionally hanging out outside of work and doing things together. But that's all it was, sadly. I knew she was friends with Winn – best friends, I think – and I also knew that the tech guy was practically in love with her. I didn't know him as well as I knew her, but I knew enough to not want to get in between the two of them. So, Kara Danvers remained a silly little crush.

I got back to my sketches, managing to draft up some mock-ups on Photoshop before my day ended. I was more tired than I thought that evening, ending up falling asleep earlier than usual. Which meant that I missed the biggest news in National City yet – a mystery woman saving a plane from crashing, possibly a new superhero.

I woke up the next morning to a million and one calls and texts from colleagues at CatCo, all expecting me to get on social media to post about this mystery woman. By the time I got to work that morning, I was caught up with everything and in awe at this new superhero we had. It was pretty darn awesome!

The amazement I felt however was short lived, as Cat was all over me when I got to the office, claiming I should have been on top of our social media coverage as soon as it happened. Apparently me falling asleep wasn't a valid enough point to miss it, so I was put to work instantly, working with the photography and marketing department to find some sort of coverage on this mystery hero.

As I was lining up some posts with the limited images available of this hero, I felt a presence stop by my desk and saw it was Kara.

"Morning," she greeted, before glancing at my computer. "Oh, so you heard?"

I chuckled. "Kind of hard not to. It's everywhere." I nodded to the many TVs around the office that were playing reruns of the news coverage from last night.

"Pretty cool, right?" she asked, a smile tugging at her lips.

"Very, but it also means I now have a lot of work to do, especially because I fell asleep when all of this went down," I said, jokingly. "Cat has been all over me about this all morning."

Kara laughed and it was literally the best thing I'd heard all day.

"So, I was actually hoping I could tell you something," she said, an excited smile on her face as she met my eyes.

I felt a little flustered under her gaze and found myself distracting myself with my computer screen momentarily.

"I actually have a lot of things to do right now,” I said regretfully. “Maybe later?”

Her smile faded as she nodded. "Right, no, yeah, that's totally fine. Sorry."

"No, no, don't apologise," I said instantly, feeling a little bad. "I just– if I don't get this done, Cat will kill me."

"I got it, you do this, it's cool," she said reassuringly, offering me a small smile.

"Sorry," I tried, a little sad that there was nothing I could do. I really needed to get this done, despite wanting to spend some more time with Kara.

"It's fine, good luck," she said, giving me a grin and thumbs up before leaving.

I sighed, before getting back to work. Unfortunately, it was a few hours before I could get away from my desk, and I managed to track down Kara at her own desk, remembering she wanted to tell me something.

"Hey," I said, earning her attention.

She looked up from her notebook, smiling when she saw me. "Hey, you manage to get that content done?"

"Just about," I said, before offering a small smile. "Sorry again for blowing you off."

She waved her hand dismissively. "It's fine, honestly."

"I'm free now though," I said optimistically. "Maybe we could grab an early lunch? You can talk to me then?"

Kara pushed a strand of hair behind her ear as she nodded slowly. "That sounds nice actually, yeah."

I felt a little relieved when she agreed. "Great. Well, I'll let you get your things and meet you by the elevator?"

She pursed her lips, suppressing a smile. "You got it."

We ended up getting lunch, as agreed, and it was nice to make it up to her. Though, I never really noticed that she never ended up telling me whatever it was that she wanted to tell me. I was so distracted by how smoothly our lunch was going that I forgot to ask her about it. Maybe if I'd asked, she might have told me the truth. Or she might have made something up and lied. I guess I would never know.

–

Did somebody say tiny umbrella drinks? #gottalovethetinyumbrellas #CatCoFoundation [image here]

I sent yet another tweet and picture out from CatCo's Twitter account, watching as it instantly got responses from everyone. I was at an event that Cat was throwing for all CatCo employees plus special guests. It was an event to raise money for Cat's foundation – a charity for children's hospitals in National City. My job was to live-tweet the heck out of the event, hoping to boost donations online.

It was a formal event, so I was comfortably dressed in some high-waisted pants and a silk blouse, it being my best attempt at 'formal' clothes.

The event wasn't too bad. There was free food and drinks, plus I got to hang out with some of my friends from work whilst doing the bare minimum. I just wasn't an evening person, I guess.

"Hey, stranger," a voice startled me, and I turned around, surprised to see Kara Danvers stood there.

I hadn't seen much of Kara in the past few months, despite working with her. She always seemed to be caught up with Winn, and she'd gotten quite close with the not-so-new guy, James Olsen. I wasn't stalking her or anything, but I began to notice when I would try to make plans with her like we used to – little things like grabbing coffee or going to watch a film after work – and she would decline or have plans already. Then I'd see her constantly being surrounded by Winn and James, so I figured she'd just made new friends.

"Kara," I breathed out, smiling as I took in her appearance. "Hey."

I hadn't seen her at all this evening and I was sure she just showed up because I definitely would have noticed how good she looked in that fitted red dress of hers.

"You look really nice," she said, looking me up and down before meeting my eyes.

"Thanks," I said, hoping my cheeks didn't look as warm as they felt. "So do you. You liking the event?"

Kara looked around, nodding. "It's beautiful."

"You did a good job," I said, giving her a knowing smile. "I know you planned it."

"This was all Cat, I just–"

"Kara, everybody knows you plan the events around here," I told her with a chuckle. "It's okay."

She smiled to herself, looking down. "Right." It went quiet for a moment before she looked up and said, "Do you want to dance?"

I was a little taken aback by her confidence, but nonetheless, I found myself nodding. She smiled as she held out her hand. I took it, feeling goosebumps from how soft her hands were.

She led me to the dance-floor, stopping and resting a hand on my waist, the other holding my hand. I nervously rested an arm on her shoulder as I focused on swaying to the music playing rather than stepping on her toes.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in a while," she said after a moment. I looked up and saw her blue eyes staring right through me.

"Well, we've both been busy," I attempted to give a reason.

She shook her head, smiling apologetically. "No, it's not that... it's my fault. I've been hanging out with James and Winn so much lately that I've been neglecting you."

I laughed a little awkwardly. "Kara, it's okay. You don't need to feel bad for having other friends. I mean, you don't have any obligations to me. They're your best friends. Of course you're gonna hang out with them."

She pursed her lips and I admittedly felt nervous as she stared at me, her expression unreadable. She was a little taller than me which didn't help with me trying to keep my emotions in check. She was extremely close to me as we swayed to the music and I could just about focus on it as she continued to stare at me.

"What if I want to have obligations to you?" she asked, and I almost thought she was joking until I realised that she wasn't.

I wanted to understand what she meant, but I didn't get to ask because she leaned forward and closed the gap between us with her lips. I was surprised at her boldness, pinning Kara for the shy type. Nonetheless, I returned the kiss, melting into her embrace and warmth.

We pulled apart soon enough, myself a little flustered from the kiss. My lips were still tingling as she met my eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"I hope that was okay," she muttered.

I nodded slowly, still surprised. "Yeah, it was."

My stomach was doing somersaults as I mirrored her smile; the gala was merely a blur in the background as I realised Kara Danvers had just kissed me. I definitely wouldn't have thought she felt something for me other than friendship.

"I'm assuming you want this to go somewhere," I said, a little stupidly.

She laughed melodiously as she nodded, intertwining her fingers in mine. "That's the plan, yes. But actually, er..."

"Second thoughts already?" I joked, though inside I was genuinely believing she might be second-guessing her decision, judging from her sudden change of facial expression.

"No, no," she said, shaking her head. "It's just, I feel like we should talk first. I have to tell you something. Before this goes any further."

She sounded quite affected by whatever it was, so I nodded, losing my smile for a moment.

"Of course, you can tell me whatever you need to," I reassured her, giving her hand a little squeeze. "Do you want to talk now or after?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but tilted her head to the side as she grew distracted. I waited patiently, expecting her to snap back into reality, but she seemed caught up with something else.

"Kara? You okay?" I asked, growing a little concerned.

"What? Yeah, sorry," she said, shaking her head before meeting my eyes with apologetic ones. "I'm sorry, I have to go for a minute. I just realised I have to check on the desserts for the party."

"Oh, okay." I nodded, giving her a small smile. "You can tell me whatever it is afterwards then?"

She smiled, nodding. "Yeah. I'll be back after, I swear."

I believed her and watched as she let go of my hand, already in a rush to leave. I wondered what was so time-sensitive about desserts, but decided not to question it as I realised the very obvious and surprising fact that Kara liked me.

As she turned to leave, she quickly turned back to me and moved forward, pressing a haste kiss to my cheek. My face heated up as she flashed me a beautiful smile, before moving to leave.

Just danced with the most beautiful girl in the room #CatCoFoundation

I looked up and saw Kara by the door, about to leave, but she stopped when her phone vibrated. After glancing at the screen, she paused and a wide smile graced her lips. Her eyes lifted and she gave me a knowing look before disappearing. I found myself smiling like an idiot the rest of the night.

I guess I should have realised, once again, that Kara never ended up telling me whatever it was that she wanted to tell me. I was so caught up in the fact that she returned my feelings that I never remembered to ask her what it was that she wanted to say. Maybe if I'd remembered, things would have ended up a little differently.

–

Kara and I went on some dates, our relationship blossoming naturally. It was the best thing to happen to me at the time – finding someone who I thought truly understood me, and vice versa. We had inside jokes, an 'our song', a favourite restaurant we frequented; we were happy and it was amazing. I was really falling for her. I thought she was perfect. Nothing could change that, I thought. She was everything I wanted.

"What are you thinking about in that pretty little head of yours?" Kara asked, tilting her head to look at me.

It was moments like this when I was in awe of her beauty, inside and out. She was comfortable, with her hair tied in a loose ponytail and her face makeup-free. Her glasses were balanced on her nose as she stared at me with an easygoing smile and sparkling eyes. I felt a sudden overwhelming flood of love for her as she waited for me to reply.

"I'm in love with you," I blurted out uncontrollably.

She raised her eyebrows slightly, mouth agape as she realised what I said.

"I'm sorry," I said, shaking my head. "That was random. And weird. Too soon, right? I freaked you out. I'm sorry."

Kara blinked several times, straightening up as she shook her head. "No, it's not, it's..." I watched her with anticipation, as she found her words. "It's fine. It's... I feel the same way."

It was my turn to be surprised now. I raised my eyebrows, a smile forming on my lips. "You do?"

Kara pursed her lips, eyes flickering up to meet mine. "Yeah."

I breathed out. "I'm really happy to hear that, especially because I thought I freaked you out, but like, I feel like something is bothering you, Kara."

Resting a hand on hers, I squeezed it gently. She offered me a small, troubled smile and I wondered what was occupying her thoughts.

"I trust you," she said gently. "I do. I love you. And I... I want you to know that I think what we have is amazing. I've never been happier."

"This sounds like a breakup," I joked, chuckling nervously. She wouldn't break up with me right after saying 'I love you', right?

"No, no, it's not!" she reassured immediately, taking any doubt from my mind. She leaned forward and cupped my cheek gently. "I'm not breaking up with you, silly."

"Good to know," I said playfully, resting my hand on hers and moving it to my lips, kissing it softly. "What is it though? What's on your mind? You can tell me anything you know."

She nodded. "I know... I can. I will. Now."

I stayed quiet, watching as she had some inner conflict going on. What was bothering her so much?

"I want to say that I–"

But she was cut off by her phone ringing. She rolled her eyes and I offered her an approving smile as she reached to answer it.

"Alex, hey, what's up?"

I sat back, keeping ahold of Kara's hand as she listened to Alex on the phone.

"Are you sure?" Kara said, concern in her voice.

I wondered what was going on, as the blonde was scrunching her brows together with worry. Her hand slipped from mine as she stood up, pacing.

"Okay, I'll be there now," she finished, before hanging up.

"Hey, that sounded serious, is everything okay?" I asked, standing up, too.

Kara nodded, already in the process of grabbing her things. "Yeah, sorry, it's just some family stuff with Alex. I should get going and help her out." She stopped moving and turned to face me, a distracted frown on her face. "I'm sorry. I know we were supposed to spend the evening together and I wanted to tell you something, but–"

"It's fine, Kara, you can just tell me another time," I cut her off, moving forward and rubbing her arm gently. "I hope everything is okay with Alex. I'll just see you at work tomorrow, yeah?"

Kara smiled tightly, nodding. "You're too understanding. It's annoyingly admirable."

I chuckled, stepping forward and pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. She had a few inches on me, so I had to step on my tip toes to reach, but seeing the little smile appear on her lips when I did made it worth it.

"Don't get stressed about whatever it is you wanna tell me," I added, meeting her eyes. "I'm sure it'll be fine. I love you and I'm really lucky to have you in my life. I don't think anything will ruin that. Just... remember that, okay?"

Kara nodded, her eyes flickering to the floor. "Thank you, Y/N."

"I'll leave you to it," I said, moving away to grab my coat and put on my shoes. "Good luck with whatever is up, and see you tomorrow."

As I was about to leave, her voice called out, "I love you, too."

I smiled widely at her before leaving, feeling lightweight because of all the love that was bubbling around inside of me. Once again, Kara managed to distract me from the fact that she had something big to tell me, as when I followed up the next day, she assured me that she just wanted me to know that she sometimes moved too fast in relationships and she didn't want me to feel like I was being rushed.

I believed her, blinded by what I thought was my happy ending, and that was that.

#kara danvers x you #kara danvers #kara danvers x reader #kara danvers imagine #supergirl #supergirl imagine #supergirl x reader #melissa benoist

172 notes · View notes

lsholland · 3 years

Text

𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄 (𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈 - "𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠?"

Word count: 3.7k

tw: addictions (alcohol, drugs), swearing, disease, murder...

genre: psychological thriller / suspense / drama

Synopsis: Tom Holland is Hollywood's #1 celebrity and is adored all around the world. But this rise to fame hasn't been easy for him. With fame comes his own demons: addiction issues, a relationship that's about to end and...he doesn't know it yet, but he's about to kill an innocent woman. How is he going to get through it?

You can also read it on Wattpad.

Reblogs and comments are appreciated :)

"Tom! Tom!!! TOM!!!" shouts a woman in a black hoodie among a hysterical crowd of young boys and girls trying to get this man's attention. "PLEASE!!! I love you so much" her voice crackles, she's sobbing in despair.

He stops walking and stands right in front of her, a sharpie pen between his fingers and an unnatural grin on his face. Even though these people claim they love him, he's tired of them. It's something with the drama, the screams, and the perpetual inconsideration that drains his energy. His straight face says it all, if only they weren't obsessed with his looks, he'd be pleased to spend time with them. But he knows he's just an object of their fantasies. He forces a smile, or something close to it, and accepts to take a picture with her. He stands next to her, his arms in his back, his fingers intertwined and shakily holding the pen, glancing at the camera lens, lost in his thoughts. His body is present in the moment, but his mind is thousands of kilometres away in the universe that is his brain.

And she's so happy to finally have that precious picture that her smile shows all her impeccable teeth; she's sweating and rapidly breathing and laughing with the same high-pitched voice as everyone else; she's just a typical fangirl. All her friends gather around her and whisper as if they were hiding a secret from an alien.

And onto the next one. Same hysteria, same cry for help, miserable for his attention. She hands him a picture of him in a Spider-Man suit and asks for an autograph while she's filming the scene with her brand-new iPhone.

It has to do with the way they treat him. The way they pretend he doesn't notice their weird behaviour. The way they simply believe he's not a human being. That he must be good-looking, happy, nice, and funny all the time.

"We've gotta go" says his assistant as he presses his shoulder with his hand. Tom looks at him with relief and closes his eyes for a second. He lets out a sigh as a soft smile appears on his angelic face.

"A'ight, I'm sorry guys" he apologises, but that's not enough. Many of them start crying and push through the thin barrier to get a hold of him; like monsters that haven't been fed, like addicts when you can't provide their usual dose of drugs. They look so disappointed and hopeless; leaving now would reduce all his efforts to dust. Keeping a good image and reputation is the key. He doesn't want to be hated.

Guilt rushes through him like a thrill; he glances at his watch and gulps. He gives them another 5 minutes for pictures, autographs, and hugs. Even if he's late. Even if he's going to miss his interview. Because he owes his success to them; or at least he thinks he does.

And when he goes into the back seat of this huge black SUV with no registration plate, he slams the door shut and . . . Peace. Finally, the moment he's been waiting for. The pressure leaves his body like a bubble burst. He sighs and relaxes his muscles, his head falling back on the seat. His eyes are closed; he doesn't say a word for the whole ride. His time alone is so rare and valued.

And when they arrive in front of that gigantic building to pass this final interview, Tom prepares to show his usual bright smile and pretends he's happy. Nobody notices what's hidden in his gaze. But his eyes are telling the truth. His eyes show how hopeless he is. But nobody dares looking into his soul. They only see the superficial layer, the mask he puts on every day. Because nobody knows who he is. Nobody cares about him.

It's so much simpler to ignore sadness in other people. We just tend to believe only good moments are worth sharing. We just pretend we're happy all the time because that's what everyone else does. And why would he show his sadness anyway? He has it all: a girlfriend, loads of money, a caring family, success . . . What can he be sad about?

The interview is done, Tom is in the car, cruising in the city. He's finally going home after a long, tiring, and stressful day.

He unlocks his phone and checks his text messages. They're plain and all related to his fame or his work. All his conversations are so self-centred. What are his plans? What does he like? And what's his opinion on this subject? He, he, him, him, again and again!

He's so tired and wants to be entertained. This empty space laying in his heart and brain becomes bigger and bigger. It's become harder to ignore it, especially when he's alone like tonight. Besides, he's too used to entertain others that he almost forgets what it's like to be passive and watch people do things. As if the world revolved around him.

Here we go. Instagram. The most toxic of all social media platforms. He scrolls through pictures of his friends. The famous ones on red carpets or photoshoots; the anonymous ones a drink in their hands. They're all so superficial. All the same. And the algorithm showing him pictures fans have taken of him earlier today . . . Icing on the cake. Why would he watch this? He doesn't need it. But he decides to read what the fans say, because he's curious. Or because he's obsessed with what people think of him. He needs to be known, loved, remembered, at the centre of attention – adored. He wouldn't need to sell his soul to the devil because it's already in him, and he's now paying the price of this sin.

The fans he met earlier, who were so happy to finally see their idol, were bullying him on social media. They aren't even aware of it. All these people objectifying him, posting pictures of his family – invading his privacy – and saying he can't 'write' or 'walk' or do anything properly because he's just human. They say they are joking except it's not funny. Tom's feelings are hurt, again. He should have written 'you're' instead of 'your', he should have noticed there was a hole in the grass and not trip . . . These images are roaming in his brain like a car's spinning wheels when you brake at 60 miles per hour; the pressure of the tyres scratching your mind, and the intrusive thoughts that can't be stopped like the wheel. Ever. And you eventually hit the wall.

He glances at the rear-view mirror and see his driver focused on the traffic lights. He glances around to make sure no paparazzi is watching and takes a flask out of his back pocket. His trembling hands poorly hold it, but he needs to drink something to feel better; to feel energised. He spills his boose on the leather seats and sighs with annoyance. Grabbing his hoodie feels like lifting the weight of the world; he manages to wipe it off and savours the sweet taste of vodka. Just one sip can't hurt.

That's how you know it's too late.

"Do you really need it?" says the assistant in the front passenger seat who caught him.

"It's just a drink" Tom replies instantly, frowning his eyebrows.

"I'm just worried about you, you know" he adds as he turns around and looks at him in his eyes.

"There's nothing to worry about," Tom mumbles as he feels relaxed "I can stop if I want to."

"If you say so . . ."

And even the people surrounding him day and night aren't trying to help him. Everyone's aware he's slowly getting addicted and is wasting his potential, everyone but the fans. Everyone pretends to love him, but nobody truly cares. They're just after his money, power, and fame . . .

It's like watching him tiptoeing on the deck's edge of a ferry and being shocked when he eventually falls off in the unforgiving cold, dark sea.

He smiles when the car stops in front of his London house. That's the only place where he feels like he can truly be himself. Or the last of it. After all, who is he really? Spider-Man? An actor that pleases 13-year-old girls? A failure? An impostor? Or no one at all?

What happened to the young boy who was excited about everything and anything? What happened to the one who used to laugh more than he'd breathe?

He is torn. He can't love anymore. He's had many girlfriends, each one more famous and beautiful than the last, but they couldn't bring him back to life. He truly loved them though. He felt good with them and always thought they were a match until he messed up. Making up a behaviour so they'd leave him because he's not strong enough to quit. Because he is just like this. A kid who can't handle success.

He currently has a girlfriend. Everyone loves her. He thinks she's too good for him though. Too beautiful, too clever, and maybe too famous. He feels like she's achieving much more than he is and that scares him. He can't even make love to her without feeling like he's not worth it. So, he ignores her calls, takes days to reply to a text, becomes cold as stone, distant, and unstable. This is how cowards break up. But she holds on to him.

Once he gets home, he sits on his couch and starts watching TV. His stomach is empty; he hasn't eaten all day but the only thing he wants is to drink more. It's like a voice in his brain that takes control of his body. He sees everything but can't do anything about it. The smell, the thirst, the mind that can't think of anything else. His hands are shaking, breathing becomes uneasy, he's uncomfortable in his own skin; he's a stranger to himself until he drinks. He's desperately waiting for someone to help him. But they're all too busy with their own problems.

He tries to drink from his flask, but it is empty.

He groans. "One more isn't gonna hurt" he whispers to himself as he walks towards the kitchen area. He opens the fridge and grabs a cold one.

And another one.

And another one . . .

The saddest thing about the situation is that he truly believes in his excuses. He doesn't realise he desperately needs help.

Now, the fridge is empty. But he still doesn't feel it. He doesn't feel the uninhibited state he wants to reach. He's still a victim of his thoughts; the sadness, the anger, the feeling of being trapped in a never-ending game.

He glances at his 80,000 dollars Rolex and decides it's time for him to go to a bar. He grabs his phone and calls his assistant. No answer. He calls his second assistant then. No answer.

"It's only 2AM, come on!" he grunts.

Only?

He thinks for barely a second and grabs his keys and gets into his car. There's a night bar in Kingston that he absolutely loves, and he knows he's always welcome there.

As a celebrity he's obviously welcome everywhere. But he noticed the way people looked at him with pity when he spent an entire night drinking without speaking to anyone. Alone in his thoughts that only he knows. It's different there, the barmaid usually talks to him and entertains him. And she just doesn't care he's famous, which is rare nowadays.

He's been caught drunk driving many times, but he was always released without a word because he's so famous. As if all the police officers have daughters who worship him.

Maybe his problem is thinking he's above all. He who used to be so humble, kind, and generous.

He parks in front of the venue, but the lights are off. He rolls down the window and squints to read the paper sticked to the door.

The bar is closed for annual leave.

"Fuck it!" he shouts. He checks on his phone if another bar is open tonight. Miss Jackson is. It's not the bar he usually spends his time in, but the beers are good and it's not too crowded for him. He absolutely wants to avoid fans tonight.

Most of them are underage, it's dangerous for him. One mistake and he'd become a paedophile. That's why he swore to himself to never do anything with a fan, no matter how hot they are. It's harder to respect this rule when he's drunk though.

"Let's go then" he says in a lazy way, the alcohol slowly taking control of him.

His eyes are red, everything he sees is blurred. He can't keep his thoughts straight.

He starts the car and puts some music to lighten his mood. He needs this to feel better. If something bad happens while he's drunk it ruins his mood. And when this happens . . . he starts having very dark thoughts. The kind of thoughts you better keep to yourself if you don't want people to be scared for you. Where your life is on the line, and you don't care about tomorrow because you just want to stop it . . . The sadness; the anxiety; the constant fears. Because the only moment you feel happy is when you sleep, as if you were dead. Tom feels like this all the time, and he hides it well.

But now he's focusing on the moment. The boose allows him to feel better. He listens to this pop song and its energy is spreading in his body. He's pushed by the music; the excitement and adrenaline take control over his body. He's ready to go.

He quickly backs up the car. He's so excited to go to the bar to finally drink some more and—

BOOM! His car abruptly stops, it sounds like a crash. An alarm is wailing, echoing in Tom's ears, making him feel dizzy. The shock was so intense he hit his face against the airbag of his steering wheel leaving his skin half-burnt. He passes out.

Tom startles as he wakes up, "what the fuck just happened?" he hisses. He stays still giving time to his brain to proceed the information and checks his rear-view camera. It's been disconnected.

He jumps out of his car and checks what happened. He collided with another vehicle. A much smaller car with a crushed bumper. Tom's car is damaged as well, but he doesn't care, he walks over the small Fiat 500 and scans the surroundings. His heart is pounding; air isn't traveling down to his lungs. He suffocates as if he were trapped in a cage down the ocean. He doesn't control his shaking fingers rubbing against his sweating forehead. His lips are parting, gasping for air, while his eyes are wide open looking straight to the ground.

For a second, he realises that he can be in big trouble if anyone knows about this. This can be enough to be fired by the Marvel Studios and ruin his entire career, his life. No one wants a drunk superstar to ruin a movie's reputation.

He hesitates. He wants to run away. He faintly grabs his head in his weak hands and is heavily panting. He can taste iron on the tip of his tongue. He rubs his forearm against his mouth and feels wobbly at the sight of his own blood.

What is he going to do? Has someone seen what happened? And if he leaves, what happens to the unconscious person in the car? But if he helps them, what guarantees him he's not going to be prosecuted? And lose it all? But what if he leaves and this person dies? What if they die and someone knows he killed them? Each scenario is getting worse and worse.

There's only one viable option for him.

"Hey, are you alright?" he says as he approaches the fuming car.

He glances around, but the street is empty. That's the reason why he usually loves this place; because it's so quiet.

"Are—Are you okay there?" he stutters.

He opens the door and see blood. Dark, thick, red blood. An unconscious woman with blood all over her face is lying on the steering wheel. Her car is so old there is no airbag. The shock must've been tough for her. She might even have a brain injury.

Tom places his hand on this woman's neck to check if her heart is still beating. It's weak. She needs help or she'll die because of his stupidity, because he's a drunk who can't even check his surroundings before backing up his car. Poor woman whose life is on pause for his mistake. She'll die because of him.

He dials 999 on his cell phone and repeats what he's going to say once someone picks up the phone.

"There's a woman—she's injured! Car accident!" he cries. He doesn't even try to make sentences; he just wants this to be over. "Please come quickly"

"What's your name, sir?"

His body is wavering, tears are streaming down his face – it's absolute chaos in his mind. He can't tell his name; he'd rather die than publicly suffer from the consequences of his actions. He needs to fly away; he needs to escape from this nightmare. He needs to leave, and now.

He hangs up in a hurry. No one can know he is drunk, and he almost killed someone. He walks back to his SUV and catches one last glimpse of this woman's body before closing the door and driving away.

As soon as he leaves, he regrets his decision, but sticks to it anyway. His soul is crying for him to go back there and help this dying life, but his cowardice tells him to hide and wait until this is over. He's reaching his lowest point, and the only person he wants to see now is his mum. When she holds him in her arms, the weight of his problems is bearable; he can even feel relaxed. And he wishes she'd be able to do it tonight. But it would kill her to know what monstrosity her son just did . . .

He's home, all alone. It's been a few hours since the incident happened, and Tom can't think of anything else. This woman's face, her blood all over the windshield, her crushed car.

Why didn't she see him? Why was she driving so fast in an empty street at night? So many questions roam in Tom's brain, it's slowly eating him alive.

He's sobering up as the morning lights glow on his face. It's already 6AM and he hasn't slept at all. He watches himself in his bathroom mirror and only see dark circles, pale skin, and the features of a monster. The broken blood vessels in the white of his eyes give him an evil aspect. He raises his arm and see the pink burnt skin, another scar for life. How on earth could he leave a dying woman?

He doesn't only feel remorse; he doesn't recognise himself. He's lost and wonders what happened in his life to be so miserable he considers his career more important than someone else's life.

He firmly rubs his face with the palms of his hands and takes off his clothes in a simple sweep. He crawls onto his bed and covers his body with a weighted blanket. He's almost trying to forget he exists when he squeezes his eyes shut and stops breathing until his lungs pressure him to open his mouth. Nature has done a wonderful job preventing us from suffocating on purpose. What a bummer for Tom; he would be dead already if he could just stop breathing . . .

He takes his phone, his only friend and his worst enemy, and checks the local news. Maybe they've mentioned the accident and he'll be able to know what happened to his woman. Not many articles have been published since last night. He keeps scrolling until he finds what he's been looking for.

25-year-old in coma after accident in Southeast London, fugitive remains unfound

Tom's heart skips a beat; this article must be about her. For a second, he apprehends and hesitates to read the article. But his guilty mind needs to know everything about what happened since he deserted.

As he reads the article, he gently places his hand over his mouth to stop him from crying out loud. The woman was so heavily injured they needed to put her under artificial coma to keep her alive. She was on her way to meet her dying husband, in the same hospital she's at now.

Such an emotional shock inflicts a profound pain to Tom's heart. He sobs in silence and passes out due to sleep deprivation. He's finally at peace; no thought, no nightmare. His mind is off, and his body is fully regenerating. His brain is solely focused on keeping his body alive. His soul is resting for a few hours until his cell phone starts ringing.

Tom wakes up with a start and answers his phone without checking who's on the line.

"Tom, what are you doing? I've been knocking at your door for the past 10 minutes," shouts his brother "what happened to your car? Dude what are you doing? You've gotta get ready for GQ!"

"Wh—What?" he mumbles.

His brother knocks at the door. Tom gets off his bed and walks down the stairs with difficulty. When he opens the door, the lights blind him, it's too sunny outside. He'd rather stay inside for a few more hours.

His brother checks him out and sighs. "Have you been drinking? The photoshoot is in less than an hour and you look like shit"

Tom remains silent, trying to process the information.

"And what happened to your car, man?"

And here it is. Every memory comes back in his mind like fireworks and his feet are failing, he can barely stand still. He grabs his brother by his shoulder and holds him tight in his arms. He's the only one who can really help him feel better. He wants to tell him everything that happened, but he can't admit he's got a problem.

He's lost.

* * *

Thank you so much for reading! What do you think so far of the story? Tom is in a very bad situation, I wonder how he's going to get through it?

Please like this post to be in the taglist.

#tom holland #tom holland series #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fic #tom holland fiction #tom holland imagines

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stephspurs · 3 years

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A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction - BONUS MOMENTS

Surprise!!! I'm back with a select few bonus #bamelia moments!! I just couldn't let the love story of Ben and Amelia die, I hope you don't mind. Love Always, Steph xx

PSA: To all new readers, you don't have to read the series (link below) to understand this, however it would help so that you can understand the preconceived emotions behind the chapter!

Champions Again | di nuovo campioni

warnings; none word count; 1865 writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. link to fic masterlist here

They had done it, again. The Chelsea boys were lifting their second team trophy for the year, they had just won the Supercup. This was Amelia’s first competition final with the Premier League giants and if she had her way, this wouldn't be last. She was beginning to get addicted to the feeling of winning, of proving to every little girl out there and every sexist male she had ever come across, that anything boys can do, girls can do better. She was letting her results speak for themselves, she was making history and there was nothing that could bring her down from the ninth cloud she was currently riding.

As proud as she was over her own achievements, she was equally as proud of her friends. Whilst she wasn’t part of their Champions League victory, she knew that this moment was just as special to the team that just loved to win. The scenes before her were ones she hoped she would never forget - the look on Jorgi’s face as he lifted his third trophy of the last few months, the crinkles beside Mason’s eyes as he grinned at the camera that was desperate to capture every moment of the evening, the tinge of pink on the apples of Ben’s cheeks as he stood with his hands on his hips while he watched Amelia give her first post-match tactical analysis to the Sky Sports reporter - proud that she was his girl. These were the moments that made Amelia forget all of the hard times, or rather made her realise that all of the hard times were worth it to see her friends, her team, her man smile.

With every great victory comes an even greater after party, and even though the Super Cup final coincided with the start of the season, the boys still believed that they deserved an afterparty to celebrate. Captain Cesar Azpilicueta had kindly offered the grounds of his Surrey home to host the bunch of rowdy boys, and their onslaught on mates and partners on the Sunday afternoon between the Super Cup final and the first match of the Premier League 21/22 season. Whilst they were under strict instruction from the higher powers of Chelsea Football Club (namely; Thomas Tuchel) to keep the drinking to a minimum and to keep themselves out of trouble, the boys were allowed to be boys for one more night.

______________________________________________________________

“Benj, what are you wearing? I don’t know if I should wear a sundress or denim shorts! Please, I need help!” I shouted out to Ben who was currently somewhere in his large house.

“Why would my outfit be able to help you with that decision” I could hear his voice getting closer, his footsteps getting louder as he began to ascend the stairs up to the main bedroom that I had slowly started to take over in the last couple months.

“An opinion is all I’m after - stop being cheeky mate” I shoot back at him as I begin to stand up from my place in front of his wardrobe. It was still his wardrobe, he hadn’t asked me to move in yet so it was still technically his even if it was half full with my clothes. As I got to my feet, I turned to see him leaning in the doorway with his arms and ankles crossed over each other. Wearing a tee shirt and some denim shorts himself with a cap covering his ungelled hair - a request from me because it was much easier for me to run my hands through if it wasn’t laden with gel...and because it gave me an excuse to push it out of his face whenever I felt like it (which was often).

“I wouldn’t mind if you stayed in that outfit to be fair, however, that would also mean we would be skipping this afterparty altogether and be spending the afternoon celebrating in an entirely different manner” He states staring at me while I’m currently standing with my hands on my hips, staring at the shorts and tank top combo I have laid out on his bed - again, his bed not ours - he hasn’t asked me to move in yet so it was technically his even if it did have the new bed sheets I purchased a couple weeks back with the matching throw cushions on it. The barely-there outfit that I was currently sporting and that had him licking his lips as he pushed himself off of the doorway to walk to me and wrap his arms around my body from behind was a bralette and a pair of his Chelsea shorts.

“Ok sorted, you’re in denim shorts so I’m going to wear mine too. Done ok move get off me I need to change or we’re going to be late” I exclaimed as I pushed him off me with my hips. A bad move? Absolutely not. I got to feel all of him against me and remind him of what he gets to come home to every evening, if he choses.

“Wow what's the rush now Mils? Why are you walking around like you’ve got ants in your pants?” He questioned as he tightened his grip on me and turned me so I was facing him, looking up into his curious baby blues.

“And don’t say nothing, I’ve picked up on all of your tells already” He further questioned as he could see the wheels begin to turn behind my eyes, desperate to come up with an excuse to mask my jitters so I wouldn’t have to tell him the truth.

“I regret ever letting you become friends with Fede, he’s spilling all of my secrets...Ok fine. I’m nervous to see Jack. I haven’t seen him since...ya’know and I haven't spoken to him since I gave him a telling off before international break and Ben I promise you I haven't thought about him once but I’m still worried that there's unresolved anger there from him and I don’t want to get into it again just when we’re getting back into the groove of us and it’ll impact your friendsh-” my rambling was cut off by his lips, which were simultaneously reminding me to breathe between my words and leaving me breathless at the same time. He always did have a way with his lips, the power they held over me was unmatched by anything.

“Calm down love, I promise it’ll be okay. Jack and I have had it out already, a long chat on international duties which may have only been prompted because Mase and Dec locked us in the kit room after our first session, sorted it all out.” Ben reassured me as he began to rub his thumbs over my cheeks and his hands held both sides of my face.

“I do know he wants to apologise to you though - so don’t be surprised if he tries to do that early on in the evening. You know just how awkward he can be so he’ll probably spring it on you before you’ve even put your bag down.”

“Oh great, I’m gonna need to do a couple shots before we leave the house - you’re good to drive right?” I said as I walked from his grasp and down the stairs to grab the bottle of vodka for some good old fashioned dutch courage.

______________________________________________________________

Ben was right about Jack, he had approached the couple only moments after they had arrived at Azpi’s house. Amelia had spotted him making his way towards them so she began to walk in a different direction to Ben, stretching their interlocked hands and letting him go as she mumbled something about needing to put her bag down. Ben really knew both of them too well. Jack gave Ben a hug hello, still in the grovelling stage of repairing their friendship.

“Hey bro, how’s it goin?” Jack spoke as he pulled away from Ben.

“Yeah bro all’s good with me, how are you? Congrats on the move again, million dollar geez you are, aren’t ya? Don’t forget me when you're mingling with Messi in a couple years” Ben joked back with the boy who has been literally a brother to him for the last few years.

“Ahhh you’re jokin me, could never forget a brother could I? We’re basically blood at this point I reckon. Where’d Mils run off ta?” Jack questioned with his arm around Ben’s neck, both of the boys looking out into the garden for the girl in question.

“Right here super Jack” Amelia spoke from behind them. During their brief discussion, Amelia had put her bag down and ran inside to grab herself a drink before walking out to face the music of Jack’s apology. Overhearing how lighthearted he was with Ben, coupled with the reassurance that Ben had provided her earlier in the evening plus the two or three vodka shots she had downed in their kitchen before coming to the afterparty had meant that she left her worries at the door.

“Mils, darlin', you already know what's coming but I truly am sorry...to both of ya ya’know. Benny, we’ve already had it out and it took me ages to get over that black eye but please believe me when I tell ya I am so sorry for treating you that way Amelia. From the bottom of my heart, I am sorry and I regret nothing more than how I made you feel.” Jack could feel himself getting teary whilst thinking about how he made the girl feel, how he made his best mate and chosen brother feel, how he really put a spanner in the works of their blossoming relationship.

“Jack, I’m not going to say it was ok because it wasn't. But it wasn’t just your fault, I also played a part in it that has me cursing myself every day for ruining things with Benj. I forgive you, Jacky.” Amelia spoke while reaching up and wrapping her arms around Jack’s neck to give him one of her signature squeezy hugs, to truly convey that she was moving on from their tumultuous past and hoped that he could stop beating himself up over it and do the same.

Jack had left the couple to return to the table and grab himself a refill of his drink. Ben’s arm had found its natural position around Amelia’s shoulders as they both stood there looking out at their friends. However, Ben was looking down at Amelia. Without missing a beat and keeping her eyes focused out on the yard, Amelia spoke only loud enough for Ben to hear.

“So, you gave Jack a black eye over me huh? That’s hot”

Amelia took a few steps forward before turning to look at the expression on Ben’s face as she continued to walk away from him, backwards. The slight shock turned into a full on smirk as he walked towards her eager to close the gap between them with a kiss. He knew she loved him with her whole heart, but he hoped that she would understand just how much he loved her right back.

The Proposal | la proposta

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kim-ruzek · 2 years

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It's my wonderful Cíara's ( @fighterkimburgess ) birthday today and if there's one thing anyone should know about me it's that birthdays are my Thing. Any day that brought any of the important people to me into the world is a day worthy of celebrations.

My plans started months ago-- about a month into our friendship, I think. That was when I first thought, since I was writing, that I should write something for whenever Cíara's birthday is.

It was, I think, June when I began my list of "Things Cíara Loves"-- a list that has now completely taken over the page in my writing notebook, full of all the things they love, all in anticipation for birthday gifts.

Y'all, I had Plans. I was gonna do so much. At the very least I had distilled it down to three fic gifts: the main fic, a fic idea that incorporated as much of what they love as possible. the secondary fic, which was gonna be me buckling down and actually finishing one of the many ideas I had that I keep teasing them with. And the third fic, a burgwater Soulmate au.

I ended up only doing the third one. I wrote it first so I could focus on the others, but alas, life got in the way. I got sick and ill and injured and grumpy and depressed and I can't even believe that I could happily write 4k words in one day earlier. And as I said birthdays are my Thing, so when November came by and I still was nowhere near getting better, I was completely devastated. And I mean devasted-- I'm not ashamed to admit there were tears, because I had plans!!! It's a day of celebrating the most incredible person ever and I wanted to give them gifts-- wanted to write fics just dedicated to them, fics that had our friendship, our memories, our bond, our braincell and love woven throughout them, winded around the words and forming the very foundation of what the fics are.

And then I realized that it didn't matter. Because I have published 23 fics since April 22nd 2021 and all of them are dedicated to Cíara. I attribute my ability to write to having the most amazing cheerleader, for having Cíara be my person, and encourage and indulge my silliness and tell me my ideas are worth hearing-- even when they're the most daft crack ideas ever.

It doesn't matter that I haven't managed to write much of the fics I wanted, and was unable to create a fic just for Cíara because all the fics that have come before are innately that-- and because all the fics that are to come will be.

Cíara, I'm sorry I wasn't able to do more. And I know you'll tell me to stop apologising and I will because my brain always listens to you. This is your gift, it's nothing original and nothing I haven't said before, but this is a day to celebrate you and so it only makes sense to celebrate who you are and celebrate the phenomenal incredible effect you have had on me and my life.

And so here I will do this. By breaking down my fics and saying how they wouldn't exist if it wasn't for you. This is gonna be long, so for everyone's sake, I'll put it under a cut but I had to make y'all listen to me ramble on because my Cíara is incredible and talented and amazing and kind and so sweet and I love them so much and everyone needs to know that.

Like Clockwork: I will always always adore this fic, it has a very special space in my heart. The reaction it got... For my first fic for this fandom, it was incredible and was what kept me writing. And it never would've seen the light if it wasn't for Cíara. I was shy about writing for this fandom but they encouraged me and was there for me to send a few snippets to when I was so unsure at my rusty writing. And then they were there when it was late at night and anxious about what I had written, telling me to leave it for the night, that it'll feel better in the morning-- and they were right. And they were there making vague excited screaming posts about the snippets I had posted, making me feel excited and confident in showing the world my creation. And then there's what they said after the read it, those words will always stay in my head and never fail to make me cry because they loved it. They truly loved it-- so much they reread it.

Wreck my plans, that's my man: I love all my fics, but I'm not sure I'll ever feel this special feeling about another fic again. It's my go to read fic of mine, and the fic I strive to replicate in all my other fics. It came from a ridiculous idea, after I had to battle a moth out of my bedroom at night.

Cíara reacted to the idea with enthusiasm and screaming, something they'll end up doing again and again.

I'm an indecisive person and I had a few ideas of how to take this and they were so important for this, because they helped me make decisions such as when to set it, and if Adam should be on the sofa or coffee table (... And suggested the table break).

I was so sure I couldn't write humour but they encouraged me and cheered me on and laughed at every funny snippet I sent them and because of that-- one of my favourite most reread fics were born.

Girl Code Duty: This fic was essentially born in our dms. From us talking about how much Roman sucks to how poor Sylvie for having to had slept with him. And I talked about how I had a joking idea of Sylvie saving Kim from making the same mistake made, something that was met with screams of do it.

I didn't think I could write Sylvie but they encouraged me. I didn't think I could write a friendship fic but they cheerleaded me. They gave me the confidence to be confident-- this fic was the first fic in years I wrote that fast.

And they let me steal fifty two minutes from their fic, something that is now so canon for us.

Self preservation only lasts so long: This is a fic I only wrote bc I was inspired after finishing girl code duty. Before I met Cíara the thought of impulsively writing this and so quickly... It would've been impossible. But Cíara gave me my confidence back, and their cheerleading helped feed my motivation and having them there? To send snippets too? To feed on their excitement? I probably never would've finished this if I didn't have them.

And of course, this is a fic I wrote because I wanted to elicit certain emotions in Cíara. I think the very first of my many fics to do so.

Contentedness: this fic.... The creation of the idea was made in our dms, Cíara helping to feed the little seed this idea was, and our talks created some of the most iconic dialogue-- Trudy calling Ally her granddaughter for the very first time.

That's one reason this fic has Cíara weaved throughout it but honestly? It's not the main one. This fic was like pulling nails to write and I hated what I created except for a few lines for so long.

Not Cíara, though. Cíara LOVES this fic. In fact when I did everything I could to forget about it, Cíara was there showing it the love it deserves. Never did they hesitate to not rave about it, to a degree that baffled me because I truly believed it was crap.

And because of this, I reread it and... I saw exactly what they had seen. I now ADORE this fic and that's all because of Cíara.

All the ways a heart can break: This fic took my blood, sweat and tears. It took ages to write, getting dubbed the Angsty Adam fic. Cíara ADORED this idea, and they got one of the most emotional snippets before I had to take a break from it, and I honest respect the fact they didn't kill me for that.

As you all know, Cíara is an angst monster and this fic was my love letter to their monster. I wanted to make Cíara proud of this angst, I wanted to make them cry and feel ever so satisfyied when they got to the ending. And that's what I kept in my head as motivation to finish, all while having them scream whenever I mentioned the fic. And I love them so much for that.

The world is brighter now you're here: This is an idea I had when I was first watching cpd. And it was an idea I wanted to make Cíara soft at-- the amount of times I stopped myself mentioning this headcanon to them, wanting them to hear it through this fic. This is just one example of why I say that, primarily, yeah I write for me, but also for Cíara. Also, fun fact, I wrote most of this at night, while talking to Cíara in our dms.

To build a home, let us share our past There are ideas I get that's like,,,, I can see why Cíara yells DO IT when I tell them about it. And then there's these lil ideas that I would totally understand if they were like eh about. But why Cíara is so incredible is because they tell me that these lil ideas are just important to nurture and put out there as much as those incredible ideas. And I wrote this when I was very ugh about writing and they encouraged me to just write, to try, and supported me as I did so.

Secret kisses: a prompt given to me by the wonderful Cíara, and yet again, another fic I wrote because I wanted Cíara to go all soft and gooey inside

Something's gone terribly wrong: oh this fic. This bloody fic. I think this is probably the best work I've ever done and it so has Cíara weaved throughout it. Because it was just a funny idea I came up with in march, combined with an absolutely ridiculous one I came up with when I was drunk and Cíara.... Cíara encouraged me whole heartedly to write this, telling me that the world needs this. And oh I'm so glad they did.

And they helped me come up with things, such as the voicemail, and the title of the fic.

This was also the fic that confirmed the Braincell, because without any hints or clues, Cíara guessed that Bob would have something to do with it.

And finally,,, this fic is the best example of why they're so important to me. Of why I write with them in mind. Because we're so similar and... Everything I wrote in this I loved. But if it wasn't for Cíara, I might not have included stuff because I thought it was too self indulgent or that no one but me would like it. But I knew Cíara would and they told me over and over again to be self indulgent if that's what I wanted be.

And I'll never be able to thank you as much as you deserve for that, Cíara.

They fuck you up, your mum and dad: I never thought I'd write a publish a svu fic. It's a thought that made me so nervous but... Cíara and I would scream about svu. And I watched as Cíara posted svu fics and watched as they said they got a good reception.

And honestly? Cíara just gives me such confidence in myself. And gives me one more person apart from myself to always be there, cheering me on. They didn't know I wrote this because I wrote it so quickly and it was a surprise. I wasn't sure if I'd post, I just needed to get it out-- but I knew I'd share it with Cíara, if not the world, and I can't express exactly how much that helped me be motivated to get it down.

And ofc, without even knowing anything, Cíara managed to help me come up with the most perfect title.

The ache in you, put in by the ache in me: Surprising Cíara with my fics and watching as they descend into their Feels has fast became one of my most favourite things ever and their reaction to this will always stay in my mind. And then there's the fact that when I first thought of doing this soulmate au for Burzek, they told me to do it, encouraging despite the ridiculousness.

Family we chose: one bts shot, one day and one Cíara screaming DO IT and this fic was created. I don't tend to do spec fics but with Cíara's reaction and the Feels I had... My motivation and creativity was unstoppable and yet again, everything I wrote, I wrote being so excited to see their reaction.

Sometimes you just don't know the answer: Cíara didn't know this fic was coming, and I still get giggling when I remember her REESE message when I posted it, after being silent for most of the day. Those reactions make writing,,, well, they make writing worth it.

Messy, chaotic perfection: Well this was a fic that is full of Cíara vibes because it was wrote *for* Cíara. They weren't too good and I just needed to bring some joy to their day. And thus this was born.

Iris: This only exists because of Cíara. I had a dream about Adam singing, got a hankering for a karaoke fic and Cíara helped me brainstorm this. It was only meant to be a funny light-hearted thing, but well, I'm me.

How to make a marriage work: this exists because of Cíara because of our chats, and their critical thinking about Voight and the fact that I knew it wouldn't have a very big audience but I still wrote it because I knew they'd enjoy it, and honestly, that's enough for me.

The moment I can breathe: yet another fic written for Cíara because they are amazing and the thought of not appreciating them is just an impossible thing for me. The softness in this fic was only able to be there because their friendship makes me happy and my heart content even when things feel wrong.

Girl Crush: Posting smut for this fandom? That was such a nerve wracking experience, but Cíara was there to support and encourage me and their reactions to the few snippets I gave them... It honestly spurred me on.

She drew in her first breathe out of what love meant: Without Cíara supporting my love for Ally and their own love for her, I don't think i would've wrote this, that I would think it's a little pointless bc all it is is a fluff piece but I know to be confident and proud in those ideas because of them, now.

Life's strange sense of humour: This has Cíara written all over. The definition of crack taken seriously.... Do I really need to explain exactly why our love and friendship is woven into the foundation of this fic?

To conclude: Cíara, I absolutely adore the socks off you. You're amazing, funny, supportive, sweet and lovely and I'm so thankful and appreciative of you being in my life and the light and joy you bring to it. I honestly can't put into words exactly how much I utterly love and adore you, because whenever I try, I just end up crying instead.

Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you for being in my life, thank you for not thinking I'm weird, thank you for supporting me through not just my writing but my health problems, thank you for being strong and brave in your own struggles, thank you for letting me be there for you, just.... Thank you for messaging me, thank you for writing Fearless, the fic that meant I screamed in tags, the fic that meant you messaged me for the very first time.

Finally, thank you for being you.

And I mean it: all my fics-- from those already here, to those to come, and to the ones not yet even a whisper of a thought in my head-- are dedicated to you, because you are my partner, my writing buddy, my best friend.

And I look forward to spending many many birthdays celebrating your existence, because our friendship? It's forever and always. 💖

#Ree rambles on about Cíara bc Cíara is amazing #Cíara tag #make cíara feel loved ✔️#happy birthday my wonderful Cíara!!!!!!#I'd apologize for flooding everyone's dash with this but... that would be a lie #bc Cíara deserves this

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thomaslightwoodenthusiast · 3 years

Text

hey you guys, here is a little something i’ve been working on! it’s going to be quite long so apologies, but i am going to eventually post it on wattpad too! enjoy!

(this piece revolves around thomastair, but is NOT thomastair only. they are going to be the main theme, but i don’t like writing pieces only on a ship. also it’s gonna be good anyways bc it has drunk and pining charles at one point)

A NOTE: i realised there is a problem. if i wrote the entire thing in a tumblr post, it will be far too long. but it also isn’t long enough for a work. i have decided i will upload in different parts. please let me know if after reading this you are still interested! if not, that’s fine and i’ll probably post it to wattpad lol. but i haven’t written in a while now and i am scared it’s not as good lol. anyways here u go

enjoy!

desc: in which christopher decides that everyone needs a pick me up after recent events, and concludes that the best way to do so is to hold a talent show at the institute. what could possibly happen?

———————————

Alastair scrunched up yet another ball of paper and threw it atop the ever increasing pile beside his desk. He had been trying for days- no, weeks now, to write a letter to Thomas. Despite feeling that he did the right thing in walking away, he could not scratch the feeling that he had hurt him. He wanted at least to apologise, and to let him know he believed it was the best decision for them both.

But was it? Alastair could not lie to himself. He did not feel as good as he thought he would. I’m doing this for his sake, he thought. He is more important to me than I will ever be to myself.

“So, what do you think?”

Alastair looked up. He’d almost forgotten about the ‘Talent Show’ Christopher Lightwood was arranging at the Institute. He was actually considering turning up to prove the point that he was not going to accept Matthew’s ill treatment of him, but he had little energy and currently could not be bothered to waste time on him. He knew that Cordelia was going. She and Lucie had chosen to audition together. They were going to act out a scene from ‘The Beautiful Cordelia’, with Lucie as Cordelia and his sister as one of her many lovers Lucie provided her with.

She was wearing his clothes.

“I think you look utterly mad. In a pleasant way, of course.” It was true. Cordelia looked amazing in his clothes. Not as good as he did, but a close second.

“Thank you, oh cheerful brother of mine. Are you quite alright? There is a rather large pile of paper beside you. Not to mention you look as if your eyes have cried the tears of the earth’s oceans,” she replied. There was the usual sibling tone of mockery in her voice, but also a tone of genuine concern. Alastair looked at himself in the window and realised Cordelia was right; he must have been crying, though he had no recollection of doing so.

“I am fine. Go and have fun. You deserve to, after this gargantuan mess.”

“Alastair, I am not stupid. I know when you are hurting. And what’s that on your desk?” she asked. Before he could stop her, Cordelia had made her way across the room and grabbed the piece of paper sitting in front of him. Alastair had not realised it, but he had written a few of his earlier thoughts on the page.

Cordelia frowned as she read out loud, “‘He is more important to me than I will ever be to myself.’ Alastair, I swear on all of the angels if this is about Ch-“

“It isn’t! It isn’t. I...well I suppose it’s just thoughts. Feelings.”

Cordelia was not having it. “If it’s not about him, who is it about?”

“Well, if you want a clue, his friend is the reason I cannot be at all bothered to attend tonight.”

Cordelia thought, and there was a long pause. She furrowed her brow. She seemed to be remembering something. “It’s not...is it Thomas?”

Alastair closed his eyes, as if the name pained him. “How did you guess?”

Cordelia had to admit; she wasn’t entirely sure. But a few observations she’d made over the past months had made her think. She remembered the time on the bridge when Thomas refused to show his tattoo- until Alastair had asked to see it. The time at Anna’s, when she had asked everyone what names they would want and Thomas had quietly admitted he would want only one, never saying who.

The time she and her brother had been speaking with Charles, only for her to notice Thomas had been staring at them.

“I don’t know. Sisterly instincts, I suppose. Do you want to tell me about it? Actually, no, hold on. I will not give you the option. You bottle up far too much, Alastair. Please, pray tell me, what this is about?”

Alastair sat for a moment, unsure where to start. “You remember the day, don’t you? When I defended Thomas in the Sanctuary? It starts long before that; but I fear if I tell it all you may miss out on your night. I had said that I followed him because you were fond of him. That was...” He trailed off. The words were not leaving his mouth. Cordelia smiled sympathetically. “It was only part of the truth. I came to find that I myself was indeed...quite fond of him. And I was afraid that if he went out alone with a murderer on the loose, something would happen. I couldn’t bear the thought of it being my fault; I have done enough damage. When I saw him being arrested I panicked and did the only rational thing I could think of.”

Cordelia raised her eyebrow. “Follow him the whole way to the Sanctuary risking getting caught by the Inquisitor, then further increase your risk of getting caught by sneaking into the Institute and hiding until you were needed?”

“What can I say?” her brother replied, seeming distant. “You do...odd things, when you care about someone.”

“Alastair, you risked your own safety doing what you did as well. I do not know what on earth I would do if something had happened to you without my knowledge.”

“My dear Layla. When one’s heart is so encompassed with love for another, rationality is quite frankly defenestrated.”

“What exactly does ‘defenestrated’ mean?”

“Thrown out the window,” Alastair replied, matter-of-factly. Cordelia moved towards the door of his room, realising she had to leave soon. “I only want to ask one more question. Is Thomas aware of your feelings for him?”

Alastair laughed to himself. “Quite. In fact, in the Sanctuary, I discovered that being held in confinement with someone who is as handsome as he is kind can result in interesting outcomes.”

Cordelia mocked a gasp. “Alastair Esfandiyār Carstairs, did you spend that whole night-“

“Ah ah! An honourable man does not kiss and tell.”

Cordelia’s eyes widened. “YOU KI-“

“Fine! Quieten down, lest mother is given a heart attack! Look, what happened is staying between us only. But I can tell you this; we did have a long conversation, in which he told me that he liked men. He also told me how he had figured that out; turns out that it was essentially me. I was quite shocked, because I thought he was referring to our school days when he mentioned feelings for me. I was, however, promptly proven wrong, shall we say.”

Cordelia’s face burst into a grin, before she sensed there was something else to the story. “Wait. What happened? What did you tell him?”

“You must understand, Layla, I really do care for him. But his friends- they hate me. Matthew cannot even be in the same room as me without hurling an insult. I cannot be with him; it is too complicated. I do not want to break that poor boy’s heart again, not after the Academy. I told him what I just told you, though I fear my last statement may have been too late. The letter you have in your hand and the paper you see on the floor are all my attempts at an apology. I just...walked away. Left him there. If only I had the chance to apologise to Matthew, this could have been different. But he will not accept it. He will not stop hounding me with comments, and I feel as though I can never stop being fifteen years old. I know I deserve better, but it can be tiring to fight when all your life you’ve been at war with yourself.”

Cordelia made a decision in that moment. She looked at Alastair and observed the similarities in how he and Thomas had been acting. Thomas looked a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, only to have one twice as heavy dropped on again. Alastair seemed even more quiet than usual. “You are coming with me. I don’t care when you turn up, you are turning up. I will ensure there is a piano nearby so that you can demonstrate your own incredible talent. If Matthew makes a jab at you, I will take care of it. If these rules are not met, you will be cut to pieces with Cortana. See you there,” she said, concluding her speech and leaving. Alastair watched as she left the house. He felt inspired by what she had said. He realised something within himself, too.

I cannot run from my past, but I cannot be forced to stay in it either. I am worth more than that.

And I’ll take any opportunity possible to make sure Matthew knows I refuse to take it anymore.

#shadowhunters #the shadowhunter chronicles #chain of iron #lgbtq #queer #cordelia carstairs #alastair and cordelia #alastair carstairs #the last hours #chain of gold #thomas lightwood #christopher lightwood #james herondale #matthew fairchild #will herondale #lucie herondale #thomastair #alastair x thomas

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avewritesmr · 3 years

Note

can you do "i care about you, okay? I mean that.” with ten? thank you 💞

Prompt: “I care about you, okay? I mean that.”

Word count: 1574 words

Pairing: Ten x Male!Reader

Group: NCT

Genre: Angst/Fluff

A/N: I really loved this prompt, Thank you for requesting and I hope you like it, sorry it took so long to post. 💖

A/N2: he is so gorgeous I swear to god 😳

Ten’s knee injury had always been a sensitive topic, he mostly liked to ignore that it was a thing that he had to deal with. Of course when it started acting up and gave him trouble or caused him pain he had to acknowledge it but as the years had gone by the probability of this had decreased a lot.

Over the course of the last year Ten had gotten lucky because the pain would only increase in times when he wasn’t actively promoting a comeback or filming. So while it still hurt and was frustrating at least he didn’t have to sit out performances or work through the pain.

He remembers having this conversation with Taeyong once, Taeyong had told him that it was fine, the reason he had group mates was so they could cover for him, but Ten felt at his lowest when he had to sit out on promotions, he felt useless and truly hated himself when he had to leave the work and performing to someone else.

y/n his boyfriend was good support to fall back on, the older always reassured him and Ten was getting better at dealing with his injury and the emotions that it brought on with y/n’s help.

Getting better didn’t mean he wasn’t going to hide from his boyfriend that his knee was killing him and had been killing him for days now.

Instead Ten did the completely logical thing of going to practice, on his own, at night, when there would be few staff around and he could try to work through the pain with no one around.

He had successfully managed to work through 2 hours of non-stop dancing without his knee causing any huge issues. It was basically the calm before the storm because at midnight exactly Ten’s knee buckled and his body made hard contact with the floor.

He laid there panting and out of breathe and in so much pain. It took him almost 10 minutes before he was able to pull himself up onto his feet and limp over to his bag that he had left in the corner of the dance room.

Carefully sliding down with the help of the wall he sat down next to his bag and reached for his phone.

There was no way he was going to be able to get home on his own, he doubted he’d be able to make it to the practice room door on his own.

He weighed his options, he could call Johnny or Kun or any of the other members and they’d come help him, but that meant an immediate hospital trip and the last thing Ten wanted was to go to a hospital for his knee again.

He couldn’t call any of the managers because then he wouldn’t hear the end of it for the next few years and friends be it from other groups or people he just knew outside the industry would probably be busy or too far to come help.

That left y/n, it was a Tuesday night and y/n would probably still be awake working on a report or something even though it was after midnight now. He also wouldn’t make Ten do anything he wouldn’t want to do.

He would have preferred not to let his boyfriend know about this whole situation but he really was the only option Ten had and he kind of needed the comfort of having his boyfriend with him.

He clicked on y/n’s name illuminated on his phone screen and held the phone up to his ear, the phone only rang once before it was answered.

“Ten, is something wrong?”

Ten winced, great he made the older worried, and he hadn’t even thought how worried he would make the older calling him at midnight.

“yeah, hyung, I need you to pick me up please. I am at the dance studio, the one i brought you to last week.” Damn it, why did his voice sound like that, all wobbly and unsure and weak?

There is a long pause on the other side, Ten can hear shuffling and a door being opened, “Okay, i’ll be there in 10 minutes, do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”

“No hyung, i’ll be fine, you can hang up.” liar he doesn’t want the older to hang up, but he also doesn’t want the older to get into a car accident.

“Okay, i’ll see you in a couple minutes, take care of yourself.” Ten mutters a small bye in response and the line goes dead.

Great, now he made his boyfriend worried, his knee feels like it is being repeatedly stabbed with a burning knife and his head is pounding from his fall earlier. Ten is basically the most pathetic person to have existed in the history of mankind, stupid and stubborn and so so so reckless and dumb.

Ten is seriously considering banging his head against the wall behind him to try and knock some sense into his brain when the practice room door opens and a tired looking y/n walks in. He’s wearing black pants and a white button down, work clothes, he must have gotten home late and he must be tired and stupid Ten just gave him more work to do.

Ten gets so distracted by his guilt he doesn’t notice y/n kneeling down in front of him until the older pulls his chin up so he can look at his face.

“What happened?” now Ten is gonna have to spill, great really great.

“My knee hurt and I fell while I was doing a spin and I think I might have hit my head when I fell.” y/n is looking at him with a hard look, and Ten can feel the anger in the older male for just a second before his eyes soften and he sighs.

“You don’t want me to take you to the hospital?” Ten doesn’t even have to really answer, y/n is already grabbing his bag for him slinging it over his shoulder.

Ten is about to ask for help walking, he doesn’t want to be too much of a burden. y/n doesn’t let him ask, he just carefully slides an arm under his knees and wraps his other arm around Ten’s shoulders and he’s hoisting him up.

Ten makes a noise of surprise but quickly wraps his arms around y/n’s neck.

“How long has your knee been hurting?” Ten winces at the question even though he knew he would be asked it the moment he pressed the call button.

“I think three days, not that long hyung.” Ten thinks that the last phrase will help ease the tension but instead he feel y/n’s shoulders tense under his hands.

“Long enough, do you have a headache? you said you hit your head.”

“Not really, it hurt a little after I hit it but the pain’s mostly gone now.” y/n looks down at him, as if checking he is telling the truth and then nods.

They make it out to y/n’s car without any problems, and y/n gets him into the passenger seat and buckles him up and gets into the driver seat and backs out of the driveway and onto the street without a single word.

y/n stays so silent that minutes into the ride Ten falls asleep.

When he wakes up again y/n is carefully placing him down on the living room couch.

He can’t imagine that it’s easy for someone as tall as y/n to be bending down that low especially not when he’s carrying someone else and he feels very sorry to be putting the older through so much.

After putting him down y/n sits on the ground next to the couch looking at Ten.

Ten wasn’t going to cry, like absolutely not even an option, except he felt tears pooling in his eyes and blood rushing to his ears and he felt so so bad and his knee really was hurting.

The moment the first few tears escaped, y/n’s hand was pushing his hair away from his forehead and the older was hugging him.

“I am sorry I make you go through so much,” Ten mumbled, he felt like if he talked any louder his crying might turn into ugly sobbing, “I just wanted to prove to myself that it wasn’t that bad, I am so sorry, hyung.”

y/n’s arms tightened around him, “Don’t apologise.”

Ten sobbed because this man was so understanding and he felt safe here and like it didn’t matter what kind of pain he was facing.

“I care about you, okay? I mean that.” Ten heard y/n mumble into his neck after a few minutes and Ten nodded because he knew the older cared and he could feel how much the older cared and that honestly made things so much easier for him.

y/n pulled away from him when his sobbing had started to calm down.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, but your knee looks really bad and we definitely need to go to a hospital, and no, whining until I say we won’t go is not allowed.”

Ten smiled lightly, he’d go to the hospital if only to make y/n’s night a little more liveable, also the kisses he’d get if he pouted after the trip to the hospital had nothing to do with him agreeing, get your facts straight.

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missorgana · 3 years

Text

lucky accidents

pairing: geralt/jaskier

fandom: the witcher (tv)

rating: teen and up

word count: 2408

warning: swearing, alcohol

summary: Jaskier's dog runs away. He might have to sneak into a random house to get her. Needless to say, it's going to be an interesting night. (modern au, teacher jaskier, single dad geralt)

(a ridiculous meet-cute(slash ugly??) and geraskier being chaotic as a very late birthday present for the queen Sabrina / @poirot my love!!! really really hope you like this fic babeee 💖 and thank you my ride or die Cat / @inafaithforgotten for beta reading for me, saved my ass once more MWAH 💕✨ enjoy!!)

read on ao3

Out of all the ridiculously stupid and awfully humiliating things Jaskier’s done in his life, this has got to take the cake.

Granted it isn’t completely his fault. Promise.

It’s rather Buttercup’s fault, his darling beloved cocker spaniel, who’s decided to pay a visit to a random house’s garden, and house, right in the middle of their perfectly fine 2am walk, thank you very much.

Curse her loveable face. He supposes she gets her curiosity and recklessness from himself, really.

And in the end, what can Jaskier do other than try to find a way in?

It’s taken him three months to get her rid of that habit of eating just about everything dropped on the floor (his local vet probably hates him), so he’d be damned if he’s gonna lose his baby to a stranger.

Maybe he’s way past sleep deprived right now. Maybe he’s had a couple of rums in his coffee. Maybe he has no fucking idea what he’s doing.

But, oh, what a perfect time for an adventure!

Okay, if he was in his right state of mind at this point, he’d probably stopped in his tracks and realised there’s a perfectly sensible way of solving this problem, involving a fucking door bell.

Alas, as mentioned earlier, embarrassing.

Whether it’s the daunting scenario of disturbing someone’s beauty sleep or the judgement a stranger might lay upon him from having a dog who doesn’t listen to him that scares him the most, Jaskier isn’t really sure.

So, here he is.

It took a little less than an hour for him to decide his plan of action, after about ten minutes of frantic searching, ten minutes of dawning realisation, and the rest a frantic panic staring at the god forsaken house.

Ultimately, Jaskier climbs over what he assumes is the gate to the backyard. Remember, definitely not sober right now.

It’s moments like these that leave him wondering how he ever landed his teaching job, but he prays to whatever gods might be up there that this doesn’t end up with him losing it. He’s too fucking passionate about that school and those kids to let it go.

But fuck! He wants his dog back!

Jaskier lands in the backyard, right to his assumption, and well, now that he’s officially trespassing on private property, he can’t really chicken out.

Luckily, a window is propped open for his convenience. It’s an extremely hot summer night, as the last two weeks proved, so he’s in no way surprised.

And a plastic chair and table-set to jump from, wonderful!

Don’t think about the illegality of all this too much. Jaskier’s trying his best.

At least, he proves that to himself climbing in, surprising himself in how quiet he can be. Even dodging a potted plant on the window sill, he sets his foot on wooden floor, huh, those years of ballet did pay off after all.

And, yes, he took his shoes off beforehand, duh, he’s not an idiot.

But soon enough, well… uh, let’s say that’s as far as Jaskier’s plan went. Now he’s officially breaking into a home , and he’s standing as if glued in place, staring at the living room that looks stuck in a forgotten century.

Focus!

He ponders on calling her name, or rather, whispering, but Buttercup’s familiar, frantic running footsteps get ahead of him.

“Buttercup!” he whispers, willing his voice as stern as possible for the troublemaker, “Come on, girl!”

Shakes are heard, more padding of feet, and his baby comes running along from what looks like the kitchen. He’s, like, 50% sure, it’s dark and the rum is making the world a little crooked.

Thank heavens she hasn’t broken anything.

And thank heavens he’s in time to shush her before the inevitable bark comes. She looks so clueless, but so happy with her big twinkling eyes, it’s a bit annoying.

She’s in deep, deep trouble for this. Can’t get out of this that easy. Nope.

Jaskier’s gonna scold her anyway, but right now, relief washes over him more than anything else. Entry succeeded, goal obtained, now it’s time for his exit.

To be honest, not really something he planned, either. But surely the way in works the other way around too, right?

See, that’s the funny thing, because it’s not his happy pup smashing anything in her spontaneous adventure, no, it’s when he heads back for the window the crash happens. Or, well, he thinks it’s the way for the window, the general direction at least, but Jaskier’s hip meets with a table, and he’s pretty sure a lamp’s involved in the fall.

That really hurt, thanks for asking.

But instead of fleeing the scene even faster, like any sensible person would do, he’s frozen half-standing, half-leaning against the windowsill, as light switches on in a room down the hall, and a voice calls, “Dad?”

Shit . Why is Jaskier drunk doing this? Why is he doing this at all?

Buttercup tilts her head at him and he’s none the wiser. He really does try to move, but then she’s running off again and he can’t even get to chase after her before a high pitched scream meets his eardrums.

He’s caught.

Yep, he’s so caught, because he’s an idiot who didn’t jump out the window when he should, and soon enough he’s being hit over the head with a slipper. Best night ever.

Jaskier becomes a bit of a flailing mess of limbs, attempting to dodge without much success while Buttercup starts barking excitedly somewhere in the other room. He even throws out a couple of “Ow!”s, because, seriously, that slipper hurts, what the fuck?

He can’t exactly blame his attacker, of course. In fact, very much the reaction he’d have himself. Still, he’s rather glad the hits come to a halt when the room is suddenly illuminated, the lamp he pushed over staring at him in offense.

The gruff voice from the hallway surprises him, when it says, “Princess?”

However, he’s a little more than shocked right now, because once Jaskier blinks himself to clear vision, he sees a young girl in front of him he in no way expected to meet today. Tonight. Whatever.

Ciri, one of his students, is clutching a blue slipper, used as a weapon only seconds ago, to her chest while staring at him with teacup wide eyes.

Well, this just got a hell of a lot more embarrassing.

And when Jaskier averts his eyes from the blonde girl, a giant blonde man who he can only assume is Ciri’s father, with arms that he’s pretty sure could snap him in half like a twig, is staring with a similar shocked expression, face twisted to a frown.

Why, oh, why in the name of all that is sacred and good, is the first thought jumping into Jaskier’s mind how he’d let those arms do all sorts of things to him.

You absolute goddamn clown. His brain’s too busy scolding him to say anything, but turns out he doesn’t need to since his pup jumps his student happily, because she doesn’t understand the situation at all and just found new friends in her post-midnight scavenger hunt.

He thinks he might’ve hit a new low at this point.

However, Ciri frees him of her father’s scrutinizing eyes for a minute, as she giggles in excitement, and now looks up at Jaskier with such a huge grin her cheeks are bound to hurt, “Mr. Jaskier!”

Okay. Okay, out of all the homes he could’ve possibly intruded in, this definitely isn’t a worse case scenario. Luck, maybe?

Not that he feels particularly lucky looking back at the man watching the scene, looking rather, uh, furious, which is understandable.

“You know this man?” he questions his daughter before Jaskier even gets time to consider his options, and the young girl looks back with an eager nod.

He himself is pretty much frozen in place.

Kind of fearing the brick wall of a man will murder him on the spot if he even moves an inch. Practically already killing him with his eyes only. Embarrassingly enough, he finds that even more attractive. Think with your head , idiot.

Meanwhile, Ciri’s face is painted with brief confusion, “My music teacher, dad! Didn’t you listen when I told you? Mr. Jaskier’s classes are my favorite.”

The girl seats herself on the floor and scratches Buttercup behind the ears, who seems to finally have used up all her energy for the day.

Ciri maintains her excitement, though, while looking painfully disappointed at her father. The man instantly reacts, it seems, because the glare vanishes into thin air, his stance less volatile, his expression almost… soft?

That word doesn’t exactly fit the blonde man, but it makes Jaskier feel a lot of ways. Man, is he drunk or just horny at this point?

“Of course I did.” his student’s father tells her, still eyeing him warily while apologising, “That doesn’t explain what your teacher is doing in our house, princess. At night.”

Jaskier wants to fucking die.

He tries to stammer something out, it takes, uh, a while, only landing on, “My dog.”

The blonde man frowns again.

Ciri still has zero judgement in her eyes, God bless her, and he laughs nervously in the attempt to elaborate, “Buttercup here, she, uh, ran away from me. In here. Didn’t wanna wake ya. Sorry.”

And Jaskier shakes his head at himself like it’s second nature. Well, sort of is. If you knew all the stupid shit he accidently gets himself into, you wouldn’t be surprised.

Luckily, his (favorite) student just giggles when Buttercup licks her hand, and her father seems degrees less inclined to call the cops, so that’s good. Ciri even asks him if she can give the pup a treat, and Jaskier can’t exactly say no to that, can he?

Buttercup’s clearly in love with her now, it’s adorable.

Which is why it makes him feel like a bit of an asshole when he clears his throat and tells the duo it’s probably time for him to make his exit. Ciri’s heart might as well have just shattered in pieces in front of him.

But he’s just still pretty terrified of her father’s rather menacing figure. Note to self to not be present at that parent-teacher conference.

The eye candy, though.

Focus on not getting arrested, Jaskier!

Ultimately, she looks to her dad and stands up hesitantly, her and the pup looking at each other like they’re being torn apart for eternity, and then directs her pleading eyes back to him, “Could I walk her sometime, Mr. Jaskier? Please ?”

His student drags out the word almost to the point where she loses her breath, and Jaskier can’t help his chuckle. Thankfully, her dad gives him a look of approval.

“Sure thing, kid.”

In return, he gets his second scare of the day when Ciri screeches again, only for a few seconds when she probably remembers it’s the dead of the night, and jumps for a hug. Bless her heart, but he can’t help still feeling utterly embarrassed.

Jaskier pats her back before she lets go and her father ushers her to her room, and the yell “Goodnight!” is way too endearing, although it was most likely more directed to his pup than himself, fair enough.

Well, then. He finds himself standing around awkwardly, nervously still not moving until said giant of a man crosses his arms and gets Jaskier out of his own head.

“Ah, well, that’ll be my leave then.” he says, looking everywhere else than the person in front of him, scratching his neck.

It’s almost obvious he’s getting a cold shoulder until the deep voice speaks again, “Make sure to use the door this time.”

Yup, he deserves that.

To be honest, Jaskier can’t quite believe he’s… uh, survived this. Better not jinx it, though.

“I, sir, uh,” he starts, holding out a hand for Buttercup to follow along, “I cannot stress how sorry I am for this. Seriously. If you tell my superiors about this, I’ll understand, uhm, I guess I just want to let you know I thoroughly enjoyed teaching your daughter.”

And the blonde is frighteningly silent once more, though he lifts one eyebrow, whatever the hell that means.

At last, a sigh.

“Well, I hope you’ll continue.” are the words coming next, shocking enough, Jaskier almost thinks he’s sound-hallucinating, or something, “Apology accepted. Nobody’s hurt, and Cirilla seems to like you quite a lot.”

He honestly can’t help but smile, in relief more than anything else. Buttercup barks once, and the man glances down. “And your dog, too.”

Is- is that a smile? Jaskier can’t really tell, because it looks oddly out of place with, well, everything else about him. Not that he doesn’t like what he’s seeing.

The not-so-scary-anymore man even opens the door for him, gosh, he does like his men with good manners!

Maybe, possibly, he really needs to sober up. Or eat something, now that he thinks about it.

“Then, adieu!” he offers with a little flourish of his hand, but while the pup’s already running eagerly out into the rose bushes, the blonde man stops him in his tracks with, “I suppose you’d like my number.”

There’s that familiar awkwardness again! Jaskier realises this when all he can do is gape like a moron, but honestly, those might be the most surprising out of this whole evening. That says a lot.

He finds himself stammering, “Uhm, uh, pardon?”

The giant’s already writing it down on a fucking post-it note. “So you don’t have to use the window when Ciri’s going to walk her new friend over there.”

Jaskier blinks, “Ah!” Of course, what else? He’s bordering on a thin line to delusion, truly, “Obviously.”

“Obviously.” he repeats back, and Jaskier pockets the note hilariously quickly himself.

Good, good, don’t humiliate yourself even more now. He guesses he can be thankful he’s just sober enough to not try one of those… horrendous pick-up lines of his.

Guess the eye candy will be enough.

He gives the blonde a nod at last, taking his final leave after a way too strange night, but not before the man forms that almost-smile, pretty sure it’s a smile, again (good God, did he just check out his ass, or has Jaskier officially lost it?) and says, “Name’s Geralt, by the way.”

Jaskier nearly chokes on his own breath.

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sheerbeautyreigns · 3 years

Text

DESIRE

Part 27

"Cry all you want. Nobody can hear you..."

Warning - contains rape

The sound of Drew’s alarm woke Paul the next morning. It was 7am. “Sorry, sorry.” Drew apologised, grabbing his phone. He turned it off. “What time’s your flight?” Paul asked rubbing his eyes. “Eleven. I can’t be fucked travelling today but duty calls.”

“I hear ya.” Paul agreed “What time do you want to be at the airport for?”

“Maybe 9? Is it OK if I jump in the shower?” He asked sitting up. “Knock yourself out.” Paul responded, eyeing his ass as he got out of the bed. Drew looked back smiling, eyeing Joe who was still sound asleep. “Always sleeping.”

Paul turned around in the bed and snuggled into Joe, causing him to stir. His eyes fluttered open. “Wha, what time is it?”

“It’s 7am. I need to leave Drew to the airport soon.” Paul told him, circling a strand of hair rested on his bare chest. “He’s leaving already?” Joe was awake now. “Fraid so. Did you enjoy last night?”

“It was fun. Guess I shouldn’t have gotten so worked up about it yesterday huh?” Joe said turning to face him. “I told you that you just need to trust me. You looked like you were really in your element last night.”

Joe pondered for a moment. “It’s weird, I just didn’t know what to expect when you first mentioned Drew last week but he’s…It’s easy with him.”

“You gel with him.” Paul affirmed leading Joe shrugged, “I guess.” Paul stroked his cheek and smiled. “Think we can do this again?”

“I don’t see why not.” Paul smiled leaning in to kiss him. He sat up and got out of the bed. “I’m gonna freshen up and get ready to leave. Why don’t you make us some coffee?” he suggested. “OK,” Joe stretched and dragged himself out of the bed, slipping into his black Armani boxers while Paul went off to the second bathroom. He always liked a long hot shower first thing.

Joe went about making their drinks and brought them back upstairs. Drew was wandering around with a towel wrapped around his waist when Joe entered. “Morning,” The Scot smiled adjusting the towel. His statuesque body glistened with beads of water that fell from his wet hair. “Sleep well?”

“Too good,” Joe set the tray aside. “Where’s Paul?” Drew asked quietly. “He”s having a shower-” Joe started as Drew grew closer.

“Thank fuck,” He said taking Joe in his arms and kissing him softly. Joe was instantly hard. “I don’t want you to go.” Joe looked at him with those gorgeous brown eyes. “I wish I didn’t either but I’ve got a few things to sort at home. Has Paul said if he”ll see you this coming week?”

“Nothing yet but I’ll find out.” Joe hesitantly moved away only to have Drew pull him in again. “Not yet,” He kissed him again, this time more passionately. Joe immediately pulled away, upon hearing the bathroom door close. Paul was coming. Drew turned his attention to his suitcase nearby and Joe grabbed his coffee.

“Thanks baby,” Paul smiled drying himself off, before grabbing his coffee. Joe retreated to the bed and put his knees up, trying to conceal his hard on. He watched in silence as both men made small talk while getting ready. He didn’t know when he would next see Drew this way so he wanted to soak it in. Part of him hated that Paul had set this up. He never realised how good it would be with him. Before he knew it, they were leaving. Joe threw on Paul’s bathrobe and went downstairs to say goodbye. “Keep me posted.” Drew said lowly as he hugged Joe goodbye. “I will.” Joe promised. He waved them off and went back upstairs to run a bath. It was just what he needed to relax after last night’s events and wondered what Paul had in mind over the next two days.

Joe was rinsing out the suds in the bath when he heard the key turn in the front door. Paul wasn’t away as long as he thought he would be. He could hear him coming upstairs.

“Hey.” He said entering the bedroom. “I’m in here.” Joe called from the en-suite. “Good, still not dressed.” Paul smirked, disrobing the black bathrobe that Joe had thrown on minutes earlier. He steadied himself against the sink as Paul pulled him against his body, kissing him hard. Joe pulled away, raising his hand to his mouth. “What was that for?” He licked his bottom lip, tasting blood.” Paul smiled darkly. “A reminder. You belong to me, understand?”

“What’s going on? I thought-” Joe was confused. Paul pulled the robe off him and dropped it to the ground. “Turn around.”

“Wha-?” Joe tried to ask. “Do as I say.” Paul ordered him, a serious look on his eyes. “No. What”s going on?” Joe defied, staring into his eyes only to be slapped hard across the cheek. He spun around, falling onto the sink. Before he could get his bearings, Paul was already undoing his trousers. Joe spat a mouthful of blood into the sink below. His head felt like it was spinning. Paul pulled his arms behind his back and pulled out a set of handcuffs from his pocket. He had clearly planned this. Joe tried to fight him off the moment he heard the clink of the metal.

“No, please,” He cried as Paul forced his body down on the counter top, which was being covered in droplets of his blood. “Shut up!” Paul roared twisting his arm. Hastily he managed to cuff his hands behind his back. “You think I didn’t know? You and Drew????”

“Please, there’s nothing-” Joe let out, struggling as Paul dragged him into the bedroom where he forced him onto the bed face down. “I’ll fucking show you who you belong to.” Paul growled, slipping out of his trousers and boxers. He squeezed the lube onto his hand, pulled his hips up towards his cock and quickly rubbed Joe entrance. This was more for his own benefit than Joe’s. “Please don’t do this! There’s nothing going on I swear-” The young man pleaded again, straining his head to the side. Tears were streaming down his cheeks now. He cried out again as Paul’s cock penetrated him roughly. “Cry all you want. Nobody can hear you! In fact, the more you cry, the harder I get.” He warned. Paul fucked him hard, over and over as Joe struggled against him, crying into the sheets below. He begged for him to stop but he would not let up, telling him that he’s wanted to fuck him like this for so long and that he brought it on himself. He felt so sick to his stomach as Paul came hard in his ass calling him a “filthy little slut.”

When he withdrew, he let Joe fall onto the bed, leaving him there cuffed as he went into the bathroom to wash his hands. When he returned to the room a few minutes later, he stood a distance from the bed, taking in Joe shuddering, defenseless body, curled up as much as he could. He could see the redness around his wrists from where he was struggling against the cuffs, the bruises on his ass from the flogger and the redness of his opening itself. He could feel his heart ready to explode in his chest, hearing his quiet sobbing and sniffling into the sheets. He stood there for a few more minutes, savouring the sight. He knew he was fucked up and nothing would change that. He noticed that the sobbing stopped, as did the shuddering.

Hesitantly he walked around the bed to see his face. The room was silent. He sweeped the damp strands away, swallowing hard. Joe eyelids were half closed. He didn’t know what this was. Had he reached subspace again or had he blacked out in another way? Quickly, he grabbed his trousers from the ground and fished the key out of the pocket. He undid the cuffs, letting Joe arms fall limply at his sides. Paul rolled him onto his back. He could see the traces of blood on his mouth as well as his reddened cheek. His heart sank knowing he had gone too far this time. Paul cradled him in his arms. “Baby,” He coaxed him “Come on baby,” Slowly he started coming around. His eyes squinting, trying to adjust to the light. He looked like he was in a daze.

As Paul came into view, he started to pull away. “It’s OK, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Fuck you, lemme go!” Joe spat, breaking out of his grip. He grimaced in pain as he sat up in the bed. “You’re hurting. I’m gonna help you.” Paul leaned forward grabbing his arm as Joe got off the bed. “Don’t touch me!” Joe looked like he would knock him out. Paul let go. “OK, OK I’m sorry, I fucked up.” He said putting his hands up. He watched as Joe went about gathering his belongings, limping in pain, hastily getting dressed. “You really pissed me off! What was I supposed to do?” Paul followed him around trying to explain. “You fucking raped me!” Joe roared. “Baby I’m sorry, I was so angry. Please I love you!”

“It’s too late! I’m done with this fucking mess!” Joe went into the bathroom to retrieve his toiletry bag at the sink. He paused, seeing his blood in the sink. His heart was thumping. It was then that he caught his reflection in the mirror. There was still blood on his bottom lip and there was slight swelling in his reddened cheek.

“At least stay until I can get you fixed up. You can’t leave looking like that.” Joe caved at the sink seeing what a mess he was. He buried his head in his hands and started sobbing. Paul gingerly approached him from behind and placed his hand on his back. “I’m so sorry baby, if I could take it back…” Joe was too upset to even fight him off. Paul pulled him into a comforting hug. He sobbed into the material of his t-shirt. “I love you so much. I don’t want to lose you.” He said stroking his hair. “Let me fix you up.”

#roman reigns #tribal chief #wwe #fanfiction #d/s #drew mcintyre #slashfiction #slash

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inglourious-imagines · 4 years

Text

Missing Piece (Andrew "Ack Ack" Haldane)

Requested by: @wardley10

Summary: The end of the war is here. You are waiting for your boyfriend Andrew but the knock on your door isn't him. The upcoming events are gonna take quite a turn.

Author's Note: I really don't know how I feel about this one... I apologise for the beginning but I think you can say already that I'm a sucker for angst. Also sorry for not posting lately, I was on a vacation but don't worry. Jules is back on her shit!

Taglist: @alienoresimagines @floydtab @eugenesmorphine @real-fans @meteora-fc @not-john-watsons-blog @band-of-brothers-cz @tealaquinn @ok-roemanov @mrseasycompany @punkgeekchic @wexhappyxfew @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @rarmiitage @hihosilvers @mavysnavy @easynix

"Those who escaped hell, however, never talk about it, and nothing much bothers them after that."

Y/N kept on visiting the train station for one week straight. Every single day, she was sitting on a wooden bench - from the early morning until the last train left - waiting for her fiancé who was supposed to come back to her from the hell in Pacific.

But no one came.

Soldiers who got off the trains seemed so unfamiliar, and it only added to her grief seeing them reunite with their friends, family, lovers.

Her Andy was still out there. Y/N refused to believe any other possible variants. But her hope and excitment from the end of the war quickly fell off.

The engagement ring was shining in the light of the lamp as she was trying to read her favourite book. Across from her on the table there was a framed photo of her and her fiancé laughing together on a blanket in the middle of a poppy field. It was taken by their friend Eddie just a moment after she said 'yes' to Andy's proposal.

Y/N was left with painful memories.

She just flipped another paper of the book when a bell rang. Her heart skipped a beat. She threw the book on the couch and rushed to the front door. A vase fell behind her and crashed on the ground but she couldn't care less.

Y/N opened the door and in all his glory was standing not her fiancé but his best friend, Eddie Jones.

Her heart sung even deeper and a single tear rolled down her cheek. It was too much for her to bear.

Edward smiled warmly at her and embraced her in a long tight hug that said more than a million of words could. Y/N was quietly sobbing into his shoulder not being able to move.

•••

It's been another week from the first Eddie's visit and he's been stopping by to keep an eye on her ever since. Y/N was grateful that she had him by her side but every time she looked at the former soldier, her Andy was there. Edward reminded her of the prewar relationship she and Andrew shared so much, she had to excuse herself sometimes during their conversation.

Eddie told her about the time how he got wounded and was taken to hospital where he stayed until the end of the war. When his friends from K Company, Eugene Sledge and Snafu Shelton, put him on a stretcher it was the last time he saw Andrew Haldane. He hadn't heard a word about him since then. Eddie's heart broke when he said those words to Y/N who already looked like a ghost. He would do anything to see her smile like she used to before the war. Little did he know that this grin was taken with Andy.

•••

Edward left Y/N's house half an hour ago and she was just baking a cake when she heard a car on the road and then how it stopped in front of her front door. Y/N glanced out of the window and saw two young men dressed in uniforms. She wasn't quite sure what to think of it.

"May I help you somehow, gentlemen?" Y/N asked once she walked out of the house while wiping her hands in an apron. Her voice was weak and her eyes empty.

The taller one approached her and blocked her view from the other soldier who was trying to do something in the car. "My name's Eugene Sledge, miss, and that guy back there is Merriel Shelton. Our captain Andrew Haldane ordered us to pay you a visit after the war."

No sooner had he said those words than the apron fell out of her hands. The red-headed soldier was grinning from ear to ear, it didn't look like he's missing his lost officer and a very dear friend. Y/N was confused and hurt beyond words.

"Could you please do me a favour, miss?" Eugene asked looking at her with so much sympathy and kindness in his eyes.

Y/N nodded slowly not entirely sure about what's going on at the moment but she did as she was asked.

"Why is that pretty young lady standing there alone?" a way too familiar voice spoke up out of the blue and Y/N felt like she has a heart attack. In front of her, in his Marine uniform with scratches all over his body and a big grin on his face, was standing in the sunlight Andrew Haldane.

"Oh God," Y/N breathed out blinking a few times to make sure she's not hallucinating. He was really here.

"Do I get a kiss for coming back?" Andrew smiled sweetly spreading his arms for her. Y/N's eyes began to water and she ran to him hugging him tightly.

"You scared me so damn much." she cried kissing him desperately. Tears were running down her cheeks but the sparkle that was missing came back. It was her again. Andrew Haldane completed her like no one else could.

Y/N placed little wet kisses all over his face while Andy was pulling her closer to him even though there was no place left.

"I'm sorry. They didn't want me to leave the hospital earlier." he explained taking her face in his hands gently to force her to look at him. At this point, a single tear rolled down his cheek but his face was lightened by his typical smile.

"I'm never letting you go, you hear me? I can't live without you." Y/N whispered as she kissed him one more time. She put everything she'd felt during the last two weeks - loss, grieve, pain, love, hope. They were together again.

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