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disenchantedif · 4 months

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Sharing Viktor's whole story as a New Year's gift! If you'd like to support me and my work and read the rest of the Disenchanting New Year stories, check out my Patreon.

Disenchanting New Year 2/12; Viktor

“This is already stressing me out,” Viktor sighs, his eyes darting around at all the traffic as you lounge in the passenger seat, “Why did mom think this was a good idea?”

“Because it’ll hopefully be fun once we get there,” You point out, “And they got us a really nice hotel, so the party will probably be cool.”

“I don’t know why they did that,” He mutters, “I don’t even want to imagine how much a hotel with a view of the Square cost on New Year’s Eve.”

“I think they’re still celebrating,” You say, leaning over to nudge his shoulder, “Remember when we finally told them we were dating and your mom made us a cake, like, not even an hour later?”

“And my dad brought out one of the vintage bottles,” Viktor says, mystified as if he still couldn’t quite believe it had happened, “I almost thought the world was ending.”

“Just enjoy it,” You advise, “They’re happy for you. Us.”

He reaches out, taking your hand and placing it on his thigh. You squeeze the muscle there, making him smile over at you, the early morning sun lighting up his face.

The traffic is thick as you both make the trek from Catskill to New York City. It’s a two-ish hour drive that isn’t honestly that bad with good company and some music. New Year’s is one of the busiest nights around here, which is apparent as cars swarm the streets and people pack the sidewalks.

Your hotel has complimentary parking, and it’s a lucky thing. You don’t think at this point you’d be able to find much available without having pre-reserved it. Viktor grabs both your overnight bags and heads for the front desk to check in. You take the time to wander around the lobby, looking at all the fancy contemporary decor and the fine champagne.

“Come on,” Viktor’s fingers graze over your arm as he returns to your side, his eyes soft, “Elevator is this way.”

You hear Viktor gasp a little when he finally walks into the room, dumping your bags on the king bed. One wall is all window, giving you quite a lovely view. You can see most of Times Square from how high up your room is, the people milling about below practically specks.

A note from the hotel sits on the dresser with a complimentary bottle of wine and a few chocolates. You pop one in your mouth, tossing your bags onto one of the chairs to clear the bed.

“We have hours before the partying starts,” Viktor says, “You can get a nap in if you want.”

You smirk, extending a hand as you scoot back onto the bed, “I need my pillow.”

He smiles indulgently, sliding his shoes off before taking your hand. You move closer as he wraps an arm around your waist, tucking you into his chest. It’s easy to fall asleep, and you don’t even realize you have until he’s shaking you awake. It’s dark outside now, you realize. It would be, at least, if not for all the lights and commotion in the streets below.

“The music started a little bit ago,” Viktor says quietly, “I was going to wake you up sooner but you looked so comfortable.”

You groan, stretching slightly as you sit up. You glance over, taking in the view of Viktor’s profile shining with the revelry below.

“Were you wanting to go up to the bar for the party?” He asks, leaning back against the headboard.

“Why not?” You ask, sliding your shoes back on, “We paid for the experience. Well, your parents did, I guess.”

It’s crowded when you reach the roof. This close to midnight has people already drunk and stumbling, so you two find a nice spot along the railing. The couches are comfortable as you sit and stare out at the skyline. The ball is a lot smaller than it looks on TV, you realize.

“Guess it’s all about perspective,” Viktor mutters, “It looks tiny but I read it’s actually twelve feet tall and weighs almost twelve thousand pounds.”

Time passes quickly on the roof; it’s chilly this high up, so you’re practically laying in Viktor’s arms once again. He goes and gets drinks at one point, and the glasses are so dainty and delicate you can tell he worries about shattering them.

As the ten minute to midnight mark is reached, people are humming with excitement as more and more gather around the railing. You scoot closer into Viktor’s side, letting an older woman sit down on the other end of the couch.

Eventually the countdown starts, and you chant the numbers down in unison with everyone else.

“Happy New Year’s,” Viktor whispers just for you as everyone else shouts it out.

He leans in at the same time as you, his hand cradling your cheek as your lips meet. You sway in closer, like he has some kind of magnetic field pulling you in. He tastes like expensive champagne and smoke and fire, his sharp teeth kept carefully away from snagging your lips. You hear people cooing and awwing around you, but you feel no embarrassment. He pulls back to breathe, his face still inches away from your own. His eyes, mostly blue in the low light, look only at you.

“To many more?” You say, lacing your fingers through with his.

“So many.” He agrees, his lips curling up as he pecks you on the cheek.

It doesn’t take long before you both tire of the noise and the packed crowd, so you head back down to your room not long after midnight. You’re too tired for anything else, but the slow kiss you share in bed leaves you burning for more. You have a whole year to worry about that, and many more to come.

#disenchantedif #viktor orlov

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chocsra · 8 months

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"A Waste of a Lovely Night, right?"

15! Chuuya x reader

Based off the song A Lovely Night because La La Land 😭🫶

Implied fem! reader

Content: swearing, being teenagers, classy romance, fluff, oneshot, mafia! reader, rivals to lovers?, pre-relationship, ooc? chuuya

Sorry for any grammar mistakes!

You were supposed to be basking in the evenings breeze, free from the loud screaming in one of the Port Mafia's luxurious parties; letting the wind lift your styled hair and fancy dress. Yet you find yourself standing like a solider under the night's sky, 'what the fuck' written all over your face.

There stood next to you, the former King of the Sheep; the king that claimed not to be the king everyone says he was. He was a smaller boy with orange hair about the same age as you, only recently joining the Port Mafia. His name was Chuuya Nakahara, you didn't seem to like him very much, and neither did he.

He always boasted and was blatantly arrogant because of his ability; gravity manipulation. The kid never stopped yapping and especially yelling; he and the Demon Prodigy made a scary but annoying team. It was always filled with complications, surface hatred and care; nothing you'd see in a regular friendship.

And you weren't sure why Chuuya didn't like you either, because you mostly stayed your own way in the mafia. Not your fault you're just good at what you do. Maybe it was the scowl on your face everytime he shouted at something so miniscule, or perhaps the snicker that pulled from your throat whenever you overheard the tall bandaged boy make fun of his height.

"What a sight," the boy smirked, his alluring blue eyes illuminating under the moonlight. He had his gloved hands stuffed in the pockets of his tailored suit, intaking the beauty of the city's skyline. You turn to look at him with predictability, eyes running across his sharp features and piercing gaze. He looked back at you, his gaze shifting towards your pearly white heels, then your frilled black dress; monotone enough to be considered mafia fashion. "too bad you're here." Chuuya's smirk disapated as he looked down at the concrete floor.

"Leave if you're so bothered then." You retort with a scoff, the redhead only looked at you with a cocked brow and turned to slowly walk away from you. "Nah." He replied, you knit your brows in response. Chuuya was right, the view was beautiful. The sun was nearly gone, city lights were starting to turn on, and the ocean below the hill you both stood on reflected the bright moonlight. You almost cursed at the swirling sky for granting such a sight to him; a cute, romantic couple would for sure enjoy this.

"Then don't complain." You put your hands on your hips and leaned forward with a scowl, making the boy chuckle stiffly in response. "Chill, I'm just saying.. the view is way too nice to be seen by us." he sighed, tapping his leather shoe on the concrete. "What a waste." Chuuya clicked his tongue; you got out of your position and stood straight, looking to the side, "I guess." you murmur, you two seemed to have the same thoughts. "Yeah, no offense, but you're just not my type." Chuuya sighed, kicking a rock softly as his hands were stuffed in his pockets. "Was that really necessary?" you scoff, folding your arms over your chest. The teenager chuckled and nodded.

"Well if you're gonna be like that, I'll say it first: you're not my type either, who even wears those rat ass fedoras these days?" you looked to the side, snickering a little. The boy adjusted his raven fedora, a light blush tinting his cheeks. "Don't come for the hat, dude." he mutters, brushing off some dirt off his black suit; he seemed to care a lot about his looks.

"Yeah, yeah," you laugh, watching him as he starts to slowly pace around the hill. "Actually, you're right. This would be nice for somebody who appreciates romantic scenery." You add on, looking over to the beautiful sea, Chuuya takes a seat on a wodden bench in the corner of your eye. "Oh yeah?" he inquires completely uninterested as he pulls out his phone.

"Mhm, just not with you." You say with a snicker, walking over to the boy scrolling on his phone, manspreading annoyingly in his black slacks. "Wow." he deadpans at your insult, ticking you off a little. "So you agree?" Chuuya asks, azure eyes finally gazing up to meet yours, you nod in agreement. "That's right." You smile begrudgingly. "What a waste of a lovely night." You heaved a sigh as you take a seat next to him, using your palm to steady yourself atop the wood; instead feeling fabric brushing under your fingers.

You looked over suspiciously, seeing your fingers tangled over the redheads. You both swat your hands away with pink spreading all over your cheeks. The boy's once bored eyes widened in surprise, looking into your shocked ones; he clutched onto his phone with his other gloved hand for dear life.

"Shit-"

Shit.

#Spotify #bsd #bungou stray dogs #15 chuuya #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #bsd x reader #15 light novel bsd

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jwonsociety · 1 year

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another year with you ♡

yang jungwon x gn!reader est. relationship | fluff | 1.0k | no warnings!

a/n: happy new year everyone!! here's to a great 2023 🥂

You weren't sure why you allowed yourself to get dragged to this party.

Actually, that's a lie. You knew exactly why this happened. A few hours prior, Jungwon had suggested that you two go to a New Year's celebration hosted by one of his close friends. "I know parties aren't really your thing," he'd said, "but it'll be fun, I promise!" Once he had punctuated his plea by batting his infuriatingly adorable eyelashes, you knew there was no way in the world you could've declined.

Your boyfriend was right, after all. The party was a lot of fun. You spent the night laughing with friends you hadn't seen in a while and being thoroughly entertained by Jungwon and Sunghoon's abstract rendition of Born This Way by Lady Gaga during karaoke. The couple hundred videos you had of it in your camera roll were certainly proof of that.

So, yes, you were having a great time. The only issue was that midnight was in approximately one minute, and your boyfriend was nowhere to be found.

Clearly, he couldn't have gone far -- Heeseung's apartment wasn't terribly large -- but the mass of people gathering to watch the countdown on TV was making it hard to find him. Excited chatter filled the room as well as the thrum of music blasting from the stereo. You tried standing on your tiptoes in order to pick him out in the crowd but were unsuccessful in your efforts. In search of assistance, you turned to the girl standing to your left.

"Wonyoung," you asked, raising your voice in order to be heard over the commotion. "Have you seen Jungwon?"

She furrowed her brows pensively. "I think I saw him near the kitchen? Not entirely sure, though."

You nodded. "Thank you!"

She supplied you with an encouraging thumbs up. "Go find your man!"

Steered by Wonyoung's directions, you ventured towards the kitchen -- a task which turned out to require some serious evasive maneuvers. You ducked under rogue elbows, awkwardly shimmied in between flirting partygoers, and cringed when one particularly sweaty man brushed up against you. A nervous glance at the TV revealed that now only 30 seconds remained until January 1st.

Once you reached your destination, your eyes scanned your surroundings. The room was obscured by darkness, illuminated only by the sporadic flash of the nearby television. Where was he? Worry began to creep into your mind. Suddenly, the room filled with everyone's voices shouting in unison, causing you to startle.

"Ten!"

Shit. Your heartbeat began to quicken and a girl wearing light-up sunglasses pushed past you.

"Nine!"

You made it to an uncrowded spot by the window. Its glass stretched from the floor to the ceiling and offered a view overlooking the city. Lights pulsed across the skyline like a giant heartbeat.

"Eight!"

You glanced back out into the mass of the party. Somehow, Sunoo had ended up on Niki's shoulders.

"Sev--"

"Y/n!"

Your eyes widened at the familiar voice. Whirling around, your gaze landed on a boy clad in a fuzzy white sweater, chestnut brown hair falling onto his face in disheveled strands. A wide grin stretched across your face. Jungwon.

"Six!"

He grabbed your hand, leaning in close so that his mouth was right next to your hear. "I've been looking everywhere for you, y/nnie."

"Five!"

"Not my fault you disappeared," you giggled.

"Four!"

He pulled away so that you two were face to face. Fuck. He was gorgeous like a sky painted pink by a sunset -- even though you had seen it a million times, it was still just as marvelous as the first.

"Three!"

Jungwon looked at you, eyes twinkling. "Would you do me the honor--"

"Two!"

"--of being my New Year's kiss?"

"One!"

You had never nodded so eagerly in your life.

"Happy New Year!"

In one gentle motion, Jungwon placed his left hand on your waist and the other cupped your cheek, pulling you in. The moment your lips met his, the deafening cheers of your friends faded into blissful obscurity. The only sound that filled your ears was the roar of your heart as you leaned into his touch. His grasp was soft on your hips, holding you close as if to ensure that you wouldn't be separated from him again. You grinned into the kiss, hands snaking up his neck before settling in his silky hair. His cologne smelled sweet and warm and you reveled in the way it completely took over your senses. Greedily, you never wanted his lips to part from yours.

But, much to your disappointment, Jungwon lingered only for a few more moments before pulling away, his eyes settling on yours. "Happy new year, baby."

"Happy new year," you replied, voice breathless. "I was worried I wouldn't find you."

The corner of Jungwon's mouth quirked up. "I was worried about that too. There's a lot of people here, you know."

Your face flushed as you remembered that yes, in fact, there were a lot of people here, and they all definitely just saw you kiss your boyfriend. As embarrassed as that would normally make you feel, at this moment you really couldn't seem to care. Not when Jungwon was staring at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world. His dark eyes were like their own universe, teeming with stars dazzling with supernovas. They gleamed with a sort of fondness that made your heart burst. Out of all the boys on this Earth, this one was yours. And you were undoubtedly his.

"Got any New Year's resolutions?" you asked, absentmindedly combing your fingers through his hair. You relished the way he leaned into the touch like he was completely spellbound by you.

"Just one."

You tilted your head. "And that is...?"

He softly dragged his thumb across your cheek, moving in to close the distance between the two of you. When he spoke, his breath ghosted warmly against your lips.

"To spend another amazing year with you, my love."

Midnight had come and gone, yet Jungwon pulled you in for another kiss anyways.

#enhypen #yang jungwon #jungwon x y/n #jungwon x reader #gn!reader #enhypen oneshots #enhypen x reader #enhypen drabbles #jungwon fluff #fluff #domestic fluff #jungwon oneshots

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bokutooooo · 3 months

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Dream Ride PT 4 ᰔᩚ

warnings: strong language! violence (very little)

The drive was quiet, I’m not sure why but I was trying to avoid starting any conversation. “You gonna buy a new car soon? Since you finished the last one”

I let out a small laugh “I just finished Nissan Skyline GT-R, don’t get me wrong I liked working on it but that was a lot.” he just smiled and went back to looking at the road. Tonight was pretty quiet in the city, well quiet for Tokyo at least.

We pulled up to the convenience store Sean and Neela arriving a minute later.

“I think I’m just gonna get a Gatorade and some chips, what about you” Neela and I were just walking up and down some aisles while Sean and Han waited outside. “I’m not sure, kind of craving a slushy right now, or a Redbull I need to study tonight and I definitely don’t have the energy for it” we were walking to the cash register when DK and Morimoto stopped stopped in front of us.

“Y/n! my favourite slut. Who are you screwing now?” Me and Morimoto hooked up here and there for a few months but after I cut things off he got upset and now I guess I’m a slut for it. “Oh shut up Morimoto you’re just mad she stopped seeing you, get over it” it never really felt good being called a slut by the guy you used to be friends with never mind fuck. “Neela where’ve you been? You were supposed to come over tonight.”well shit, they probably saw Sean out front but I’m hoping they didn’t.

“Change of plans me and Y/n are hanging out” DK was annoying but not stupid he knows Neela and Sean are “hanging out”. “Just leave us alone DK we’re just grabbing snacks than leaving” I don’t even know why I bothered asking, why would he listen to me “this has nothing to do with you Y/n, why don’t you go screw Han”.

Great “oh? Han? that’s new don’t you think he’s a bit old for you? Or is that just the daddy issues.” I haven’t intended to tell Morimoto about my family problems but a couple of times I had went over upset about it and told him some things I obviously shouldn’t have.”Fuck you Mori” I shoved through them pulling Neela with me to the cash trying to check out as quick as possible. “Where you going huh? Why don’t you come over” I just wanted to leave.

we were speed walking down the street to where Han and Sean were parked, Morimoto and DK following close behind “Fuck off Mori! go home!” I could see Han’s back. God I wanted Han to beat the shit out of him.

“Oh come on! Don’t you wanna come home with me” I could just hear the grin on Morimoto face. Han must’ve heard the shouting because he was quick to turn around Sean closely behind and heading straight for Morimoto.

“What happened!? Are you alright?!” Why couldn’t they just leave us alone, we wanted nothing to do with them. “They’re just being assholes! Won’t leave us alone.”

“Alright just go in the car, we’ll talk to them” even though Neela came with Sean, I pulled her into the backseat of Han’s car and patiently waited for him to tell us they were gone.

HAN’s POV

“Fuck off Morimoto, nobody wants any problems so why start them.”

“Just curious.. are you fuckin’ er? Just so you know she’s slept with all of Tokyo, have fun with your sloppy seconds.”

god what a fucking prick. “Fuck off Morimoto go home, and not that it’s any of your business but I’m not sleeping with her. Now go home”

I turn around and walk to the car, I mean who does the is asshole think he is.

“Hey you guys alright? Sorry you had to deal with those two.” Y/n and Neela were sitting in the backseat obviously scared “Yeah we’re fine, he’s just such a dick we were just buying snacks when they randomly showed up and started following us around.” I felt bad, Y/n didn’t deserve this bullshit Morimoto was just a dick.

Y/N’s POV

Han was driving me home, I’m sure he could tell I was tired and upset “Sorry about tonight, don’t let the shit Morimoto says get to you”

“Yeah for sure” I know it’s not Han’s fault but I’m just so angry and frustrated right now I can’t even think. Luckily we stop in front of my house and I’m quick to get out “Thanks for the ride Han, see you later”

“Wait Y/n! Are you sure you’re okay? Wanna talk about it?” I sighed “I’m fine just tired trust me, have a goodnight.”

SORRH FOR THE LATE POST I TRIED TO MAKE IT AS LONG AS I COULD. Hope you enjoyed! Feel free to DM me suggestions or requests!

#tokyo drift #x reader #cars #drifting #fast and furious #han lue x reader #movie #street racing #sung kang #writeblr

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austinsmutler · 11 months

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EEK i’m so happy you answered the request so i’m sending another one🤯🤯))

Austin! Elvis going to a press conference and seeing reader who is a famous singer. they grew up in tupelo but instead of going to memphis, reader was big in New York. After finally meeting again, they become as good of friends as they used to be. elvis begins harboring feelings for reader again?

during this press conference, reader gets a lot of “who’s your s/o” or “are you married yet” questions. Elvis can see the visible discomfort and sadness from the reader so he decides to step in. He asks for different questions and holds her hand under the table in a way to comfort them? at the end of the conference, elvis kisses reader and says some cheesy stuff like “for the next conference, you can answer yes to all the boyfriend stuff”

thank you so much EEK

Anon, did we just become best friends? I think we did. Thanks so much for this ask, and keep 'em coming! This one was such a cute idea, and so fun to write.

Thinking About You - Austin!Elvis x Reader - 3,900 Words

What you’ll like: Protective Elvis, 70s Austin!Elvis, BDE Elvis, Elvis stands up for reader, second-chance romance between old friends

Warnings: Period-typical misogyny (in SPADES)

Masterlist | Requests are currently open (Please tell me everything you want!)

The press conference wasn't until tomorrow, but the hotel was already packed. Just take care of business. That was the only thing Elvis could think through all the noise, the shouting reporters and camera flashes.

But he had an evening to prepare for the worst of it.

He’d been first to arrive at the hotel, But he was only one of the big names up for an interview. The other artist and the conference moderator were arriving tomorrow. He didn’t even know who they were- hadn’t looked at the conference program or really anything to do with the press event. He just knew it was about music, that the Colonel was trying to set up a collaboration between Elvis and this other artist. The Colonel said it was vital to make an appearance. So here he was, appearing.

Answering a few questions (“I’m so excited for the conference, we have a real talented musician coming out tonight and I can’t wait to meet ‘em”) he made a few excuses (“My manager’s calling me, sorry honey”) and went up to his hotel room. A penthouse suite that was big enough to feel empty.

Graceland might have been a mansion, but Elvis liked to keep it full of family, friends, and music. This was the worst part of being on the road, Elvis thought as he pulled back the curtain to look at the New York skyline. The city was beautiful, but compact; crowded and cold. The Memphis Mafia were crashing on another floor entirely, exhausted from the day of traveling. This floor was reserved for VIPs only.

Elvis wandered around his suite: a small kitchen area with fully-stocked cupboards catered to his tastes, a large bed with thick covers of purple satin and velvet, gold trimmings on the walls. Floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked half the city, the black roads dotted with yellow cabs and the gray sky above.

“Although it's always crowded,” Elvis sang to himself softly, smiling down at the streets below, “You still can find some room… For broken-hearted lovers to cry there in their gloom…”

He shrugged the emptiness away, deciding to stroll along the floor instead of hanging there like a ghost in the gloom. The VIP lounge had a fully-staffed bar and a private kitchen, all fully-stocked with anything he could hope to order.

“Whiskey and coke.” Elvis sat at the empty bar, surveying the green velvet booths. From this angle, there was a view of the brownish-grey Hudson river, just beginning to glow orange as the sun set over New York City.

The bartender poured the drink just as the door to the lounge opened. Elvis turned in time to see a woman taking reluctant strides into the empty room, hair perfectly-coiffed, eyes darting around the room, only to freeze on him. His fingers tightened on his glass as he recognised who it was.

You.

** ** ** **

“Elvis Presley,” A smile broke over your face, “It’s been a while, huh?”

Your heart hammered in your chest as Elvis got up, drink forgotten on the bar, and gave you a hug. Almost a decade since you last saw each other, but his arms hadn’t changed a bit.

“Wow, look at you.” Elvis pulled back, looking you up and down. It was hard not to feel self-conscious as he drank you in. You wore your best New-York-casual outfit. It glittered like the city lights with every movement, the egg-yolk orange sunset haloing you and Elvis as everything else seemed to melt away.

You were glad you’d come dressed to impress- granted, that was due to the vultures outside with their cameras. Press conferences weren’t your thing, but your manager had insisted on coming here.

Then you’d seen Elvis’ name on the program, heard about a possible collaboration, and your mind was set.

“You’re not so bad yourself, E.P.” You grinned, using the old nickname everyone had called him in high school. Elvis returned the smile with his now-famous lip curl. He wore a red button-up that rose high on his neck, black flares and shiny boots that added to his already-considerable height.

“C’mon, let me get you a drink.” Elvis ushered you to the bar with one hand on your upper back. A respectful touch, but one that sent electricity sparking up your whole body. You fought it away with a shiver, which Elvis caught. “Are you cold? I can ask them to check the thermostat.”

“No, I’m fine, thanks.” You grinned. Protective as ever, after all this time. “I’d ask what you’ve been up to since moving to Memphis, but I think there’s not a soul in America who doesn’t know that.”

He laughed, “You could say I’m a modest success.”

“You must be proud.” You smiled, ordering a gin and tonic. Anything to loosen up under the way he looked at you, blue eyes focused on nothing else.

Elvis shrugged. “I always wanted to make music, and I’ve been doing just that. Rock ‘n Roll, Gospel, Rockabilly, Country. I’ve done a little of everything at this point.” He sipped his drink. “What about you? I heard you were doing well, but I haven’t heard from you since…”

“High school?” You could still remember the last time you’d seen each other: a tearful goodbye as Elvis went on tour and you went to college, certain never to meet again. “Well, you know I was supposed to go to college here, but I actually dropped out. Realized medicine wasn’t for me.”

You smiled at the memories of that simpler time, when you had no idea how the music industry worked. “My first album didn’t do too bad, if I do say so myself. I’m not exactly touring all 50 states, but I do alright for a lil girl from Tupelo.”

“I’ve seen you on magazines. I almost didn’t recognize you at all the first time, when you did that cover for Modern Woman…” He trailed off, slack-jawed.

“Well,” You chuckled, “They slap a lot of makeup on me. I use my pseudonym, and I never talk about my personal life. As far as anyone knows, I was born in New York at the ripe old age of eighteen.”

“I have your album at home.” Elvis murmured, looking down at his drink. Were his cheeks lightly pink, or was that the light? You couldn’t tell for sure. “S’nice. Your voice- I’ve never forgotten it. Always thought that record sounded just like you.”

“Wonder why.” You laughed. “It’s so good to see you again, E.P.”

“You have no idea.” The smile on his face was happy, but not entirely. Sadness echoed in his eyes for a minute- if you didn’t know him so well, you might not have caught it. You pursed your lips but didn’t ask.

Even after years apart, conversation flowed between the two of you all-too-easily. Eventually the two of you moved from the bar into a booth, still sitting side-by-side instead of across from each other. It was as if there were an unspoken agreement between the two of you: no more distance. A decade was more than enough.

“You never told me you wanted to be a singer.” Elvis coked an eyebrow at you. “Any other secrets I should know about?”

You shook your head with a grin. “I didn’t know myself, to be honest. You taught me how to play guitar, and when I moved to New York I had nobody to talk to, so I spent all my time in my dorm, playing until my fingers bled.”

You showed him your calloused fingers, the sure mark of a musician. They matched his perfectly.

“Anyway, one night my roommate pretty much forced me to go out with them to this bar, and they were having an open mic. I didn’t want to do it at first, but my roommate was like ‘You’ll keep me up all night playing, but when you have a real audience you’re suddenly shy? Come on!’ So she shoved me up and I played some Big Mama Thornton. Started with Up Above My Head, then Ball n Chain, Hound Dog... They didn’t let me off the stage till dawn.”

You smiled at the memory. The crowd, the encouragement when all you’d felt before was fear, everything about being a musician pulled you in. Almost everything.

“The rest is history. Thanks for those guitar lessons, by the way.” You nudged him with your elbow. “You could really make a career out of this music thing.”

He laughed. By now the sun had long since set, and Elvis’ face was perfectly framed in the purple neon lights of the lounge, making him look dark and mysterious. Masculine and sexy. You squeezed your thighs together under the table, trying to fight the more inconvenient memories away. That would hurt too much.

The last time Elvis had kissed you was the day he left for tour. He left first, leaving your hometown empty. Letters had hurt too much to write, phone calls became too strained and distant, so you’d agreed to stop. But there were no hard feelings- you’d always understood each other, and that hadn’t changed, even though everything else had.

But here you were. Older, established artists, with separate lives that parallelled perfectly. When Elvis’ hand brushed over yours, you didn’t pull away. He shot you a shy smile- the same he’d had when he asked you out to prom all those years ago. Young, naive, vulnerable. Some things never change.

You stayed in the VIP lounge, talking about life. The music you both enjoyed now, experiences with other celebrities (you’d made an infamous movie with Marlon Brando, leading to a lot of unfounded rumors). Eventually you got to ask how things were back in Memphis. You hadn’t visited in years.

“Well, we’ll have to change that.” Elvis gave you that curled-lip smile, the one that melted every heart in America- but it had touched yours first. A spark of pride flamed in your chest, but you squashed it down.

“Is that an invitation?”

There was his hand again, fingers warm on yours.

“You come to Graceland whenever you feel like it. Just rock up, I don’t mind.” Elvis chuckled. “When they ask, tell security at the gate your name is Blue Suede Shoes. They’ll know you’re alright.”

Your heart fluttered. “Elvis Presley, you can’t just go giving anyone and everyone your secret passwords.”

“You aren’t just anyone.”

You did your best to ignore the gleam in his eye. You’d probably just imagined it anyway. So much had changed- too much- and yet he was still the same man you’d loved all those years ago.

Loved. Suddenly none of those feelings felt past-tense.

“I should go to bed.” You pulled away, ignoring the flash of hurt in his eyes. “You should too, conference starts early tomorrow.”

“I don’t sleep much these days anyway.” Elvis offered a weak smile. “Can I walk you to your door?”

You stood on shaky legs- how many gin and tonics had you ordered?

“If you like.”

He frowned at your cool tone, but nodded. When you stumbled in your heels, he watched as you kicked them off without ceremony, padding along the luxurious, carpeted corridor in bare feet.

“Remember when we’d drive down to the creek, in summer?” He spoke softly, and your pace slowed. “You wore those shorts your Momma hated.”

“You loved ‘em.”

“Wonder what she’d say to those shoes.”

You shared a chuckle- while Elvis’ family maintained traditional Southern values, they also had a rebelliousness your family didn’t understand. Your mother went to special pains to ensure you kept your shoulders covered at all times, never touched makeup or booze, never wore a skirt north of your knees.

The hotel room door loomed over the two of you, ornate and inviting.

“Well, goodnight.” You turned to go, but Elvis’ fingers wrapped around your wrist, pulling you close. You looked up at his eyes, clear blue and inches from yours. His breath fanned hot across your face. He hesitated for a moment before wrapping his arms around you, tucking your head beneath his chin.

“It’s been good to catch up, darlin’.”

He was still standing there, easygoing smile on his lips, when you locked the hotel door behind you.

** ** ** **

Sleep didn’t come for you that night, and by the time sunlight streamed in through the ornate silk curtains you were kicking yourself for letting Elvis back into your head. The press were ruthless, ready to take any crumb of what you could give them and spin it into a national headline. You needed to choose your words carefully, to be ahead of whatever questions they could ask, but you weren’t.

You put on a white suit with sharp shoulders and golden embroidery down the sleeves. It made you feel like a queen, but it didn’t take away any of the grogginess. You placed dark aviator glasses over your eyes and headed out with a sigh.

“Excuse me?” You manager, Joey, ripped them from your face the minute he saw you. “We want them to see your face, sweetheart.”

They were about to announce names in the next room, the moderator taking initial questions from reporters. Your heart thumped so loud it drowned out every other noise.

“The cameras flash really bright in there. I’ll look worse if I’m constantly blinking the lights out of my eyes.”

“Why do you think people buy your music?” Joey said with an exasperated sigh. “You’ve got a unique sound, sure…”

He gripped your chin and you fought the urge to pull away. “But your face? There’s a reason we call that the moneymaker.”

“Is there a problem here?” Suddenly a large presence was behind you, and Joey released your chin so he could take two steps back. When you turned, Elvis was glowering at the other man.

“No problem!” You squeaked. The situation with your manager was… standard, from what you could tell. Other female singers went through it all the time. “Joey was just giving me a… pep talk, before we get started.”

Elvis quirked an eyebrow, but his shoulders relaxed a little. “You’ll do great. You’re the queen of New York blues.”

Those two sentences filled you with pride, and your heart slowed, just a little. Elvis studied your face like he was trying to read your mind, and it was all you could do not to blush under those blue eyes.

Then someone called his name, and he disappeared through the curtains to greet the crowd. There was only one rule at the press conference: each performer would have the spotlight, on their own, for ten minutes. Elvis’ manager swung it so he was on stage all by himself for the first ten minutes- even if you wanted to steal the spotlight, it would be impossible. Smart.

His solo time was over in a flash though. Your name was called and Joey all-but pushed you out in front of the sharks.

The flashes instantly blinded you, and you almost stumbled on your way to the table, but you sat down without a hitch. Step one, check.

“Howdy.” You smiled into the microphone, prompting another roar from the crowd. Then the questions began.

“When are we going to see another album from the queen of New York Blues?”

“Keep an ear out. My new single will be out next week, and an album not long after.”

“Your last album had a whole lot of love songs, can you tell us what - or who - your inspiration was?”

The question would have made you stutter, but with a glance to the moderator, you knew you were on your own.

Then a warm hand found yours under the table. You could feel the cool metal of his signet rings, and it relaxed you. Elvis.

“Inspiration is a funny thing for any artist.” You managed to keep your voice steady. Almost friendly. “Blues comes from the South: work songs, field songs, church music, folk and pop all coming together. It’s full of pain and love. It just so happens that when I write a song, I draw more from love.”

Your fingers dug into your knees under the table as you realized your mistake. Too specific. It gives them too much of an in.

“So is it safe to say you’re in love?”

“With my music.” You said with a firm smile. “Every Friday I put on my red shoes and dance the blues, gentlemen.”

A chuckle spread through the crowd, but one reporter wasn’t ready to drop it. “Are you currently seeing any men?”

“Yes, a whole lot of them. Right in front of me.” Another laugh from the crowd, Elvis’ hand gave you a reassuring squeeze under the table before withdrawing. When you chanced a glance from the corner of your eye, he was smirking.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Why, are you interested?” Your chuckle was a little high-pitched, forced. You could keep your cool well enough, but this was the part of the job you hated: the scrutiny of everything personal. It wasn’t enough to put your soul into your art, people wanted a piece of everything else too.

“Just interested in the truth.” The reporter smiled, but it was more of a sneer. “Who are you seeing?”

“Nobody.” Eloquent answers hadn’t worked, maybe short ones would.

“Dating around?”

“No.” You shifted in your seat.

“What do you have to say to the rumors about your secret marriage?”

You rolled your eyes. “I starred in one movie with Marlon Brando. As a background character. We never even spoke.”

“Is that a hint of bitterness there?” A laugh- at your expense- broke through the crowd. You forced a smile.

“Well-”

“Could we get some questions about her music, please?” Elvis leaned forward with a pointed gleam in his eyes. “C’mon, this is the queen of New York Blues here, fellas.”

He glared at the moderator, who checked his watch. “Actually, it’s time to open up the floor to questions for both artists. Who would like to begin?”

The next few hours went by in a blaze of questions- mostly for Elvis, but a few about your upcoming album and collaborations. If any reporters asked personal questions, you deflected them- or Elvis glared at the reporter until they decided to change tactic.

By the time the event was finally over, you just wanted to go back up to your hotel room and collapse in bed. Maybe cry. Definitely cry. Something about giving away so much of yourself at once felt like being ripped to shreds, even if it was your job to feed the frenzy.

“What were you thinking?” Joey said as he walked you to the elevator. He put on an insulting falsetto, “‘Oh, I’m not seeing nobody’, ‘No, I don’t date’- what was that? We need the fans to think you’re available, not a nun.”

“Yes sir.” Irritation knit your eyebrows together, and Joey pointed at your face.

“And that. What have I told you about smiling? People want to see you as their happy girlfriend, not their miserable old crone of a wife.”

“I’ll get it right next time, Joey.” Your smile was all teeth. “They seemed excited about my next album.”

“Humph.” He grunted as you reached the elevator, you stepping inside while he hung in the doorway. “I’m going to be taking follow-up questions. I’ll try to sow some actual intrigue around your personal life, see what I can do to salvage this.”

He took your aviators out of his pocket and tossed them at your feet. “You forgot these.”

A growl interrupted the moment before you could think of a reply.

“You gonna get in that thing or what?” A low voice drawled from behind Joey, who turned to see Elvis glowering at him for the second time that day.

“Not at all, Mr Presley. Fantastic job today, by the way.”

“Hmm.” Elvis dismissed the man with a wave of his hand that left no room for discussion.

Once the elevator doors closed, he knelt to pick up your sunglasses. “You drop these?”

“Um. Yeah.” You blinked back tears, pasting on a smile. “Thanks, E.P.”

People want to see their happy girlfriend, not a miserable crone.

Joey was a good manager. He could book you in anywhere- all the bars and clubs and even a few theatres, which was almost unheard of for a Blues artist, much less a female one. But the price you paid for that - aside from 40% of your royalties - was being ground into the dirt after every performance, musical or otherwise. You knew he enjoyed it, got a thrill out of tearing his performers down after seeing them built up. But there was nobody better in the business.

“You could do better than him.” Elvis said as you rode the elevator to the penthouse.

“Who, Joey?”

“I know it’s not my place, but you’d really be better off with a player like Brando.”

“Me and Joey?” You laughed. “We’re not a couple. He’s my manager- just my manager. I wasn’t lying about being single.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, clamping a hand over your face. “But I can’t believe they asked about Brando. When I heard that rumor, I never thought they’d actually say it to my face.”

“Unprepared paps.” Elvis mumbled with a roll of his eyes. “Always ask stupid questions.”

“I hate them.” You spoke without thinking. It felt good. “Every time they ask me anything, it always goes the same way. Who am I dating? What does my non-existent boyfriend think of the album? When am I getting married? If I wanted to answer those questions I’d call my Momma."

Elvis smiled at his shoes, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. The elevator pinged and the doors opened on your floor. You both got out, but didn’t make a move. His room was on the right, yours on the left.

"It’s not like anyone’s interested, anyway.” You'd meant it as a joke, a parting word, but Elvis stopped you before you could turn around.

Before you could open your mouth, his lips were on yours, hands cupping your face gently. Like you were something precious. He was the only man who’d ever touched you so reverently, like he was lucky to be so close to you.

The kiss was soft, but hungry. Before you knew it, Elvis had you backed against the wall, his hands on your hips as he devoured your lips until you had to break apart to breathe.

“Consider me interested.” Elvis breathed, thumb stroking over the small of your back.

“E-” His name turned into a gasp as Elvis’ lips found your neck, finding the sweet spot where your neck met your shoulder, as easily as he had when you were teens in the back of his truck. He remembers everything, doesn’t he?

“Next time they ask,” Elvis kissed just below your ear, “You can answer yes to all those questions."

He pulled back to look in your eyes.

“Please.” He said, even though he hadn’t phrased it as a question.

You nodded, leaning up for another kiss. “I forgot what it’s like.”

He looked at you curiously.

“You. Being close to you. E.P, I’ve never stopped thinking about you. I know it’s only been a day, but you still make me feel… safe.”

His arms tightened around you. “I should’ve called you more, on that first tour. I was an idiot, darlin’. I hope you can forgive me.”

“Kiss me again. I’ll consider it.”

#elvis x reader #austin butler fanfic #austin!elvis x reader #austin!elvis x y/n #austin!elvis imagine #elvis imagine #elvis fanfic #protective elvis #protective austin!elvis #70s elvis #fluff

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softlyspector · 2 years

Note

Okay I know you’re on a top gun:triple frontier kick but like baseball game+ Marc Spector. I love baseball so getting to share that with Marc would be so fun

a/n: ask and you shall receive:

aka marc takes you home to chicago for a cubs game. (marc spector x reader, jake lockley x reader, implied steven grant x reader)

~1.4k

"You didn't have to bring me all the way here for a baseball game," you say, squeezing Marc's arm where you have a hand cupped around his bicep.

Marc smiles at you, expertly pulling you through the crowds milling around outside the gates to Wrigley Field. "Well, we were in the area."

"We really weren't Marc," you tease. "I know Jake is pissed we didn't just go to a Mets game."

"Chicago isn't that far from New York, and London is far from both. So it doesn't matter," he informs you. "Besides this my hometown. This is my team, baby."

And he had promised to take you to a Cubs game once, not just a baseball game. And he's making good on that promise. A Mets game wouldn't have cut it.

You hum under your breath, nodding as you fit yourself more snugly under his arm that's slung across your shoulders. You're well aware you're in Marc's hometown. You know lots of Marc's memories of home aren't good ones, but some of them are and he's determined to show everything good about his home to you, to share those parts of himself and his past with you.

He'd introduced you to so many hole in the wall restaurants that he used to be a regular at, told you stories of childhood and teenage exploits, pointed out things that have changed since he lived there.

You visited the synagogue he'd frequented growing up.

His expression had shifted just a little as he'd guided you down a street lined with brick buildings, paved with cobblestones, tiny mom and pop shops on either side.

Marc's eyes had fastened to a particular house, his gaze lingering for just a bit too long to be a casual.

You had squeezed his hand and pulled him along, smiling at him gently, asking a question to distract him from the fact that he was not ready to tell you he was leading you past the house he'd grown up in.

"Sure is, Spector," you say now, pressing your fingers into the flesh of his forearm, digging your nail against the vein that travels up his arm, "Doesn't mean Jake is going to be happy about this," you tease.

"No," he agrees, "Jake is definitely pissed." Marc's brow furrows and he rolls his eyes, looking back to you with an exasperated expression at whatever Jake had probably just cursed at Marc. "Tell him there's nothin' to worry about."

You can imagine Jake's protective energy, the storm looming and ready to snap free at the first sign of trouble. You think he isn't so much pissed about returning to Chicago because he's a Mets fan, but because it's the site of so much trauma for Marc.

"It's okay, Jake, I got him," you say, letting a trace of protective heat tip into your voice.

You squeeze Marc's hand when he smiles at you, rolling his eyes at you too. You reach up and tangle your fingers with his against your shoulder as you hand your tickets over at the front of the line and are allowed through the gates and into the stadium.

"C'mon," Marc says, still grinning at you, casual and happy. "Wanna get a beer?"

"It's okay Marc, you can just tell me if you want to buy a foam finger," you snark but let him pull you along all the same.

He lifts a brow at you, leading you to stand in a lined filled with overeager fans. "You can just ask if you want one, honey."

Once you have beers and snacks in hand, Marc leaving you in line for a few moments to buy you a jersey at a souvenir shop which you gamely pull on over your t-shirt, you're led toward the stands and get your first glimpse of the field.

"Wow," you breathe, looking over the green, the stands, the city skyline in the distance. The stadium is breathtaking, filled with a zing of energy that makes your blood spark with excitement. Music mingles with the chatter of thousands of voices waiting for the start of the game.

"Steven just said the same thing," Marc laughs, looking genuinely thrilled to be able to impress both of you with something. "Have you ever been to a game before?"

"No," you dig your elbow into his ribs a little. "And you know that, show off." You watch the fading sun for a moment, Marc digging the tickets out of his pocket so you can find your seats. "What's Steven saying?"

The air is sweet, clean, the smell of buttered popcorn and roasting pecans occasionally drifting by on the breeze that carries over you. You close your eyes, listen to the chatter, feel the warm summer air against your skin, the heat of Marc's body leaning carefully into yours.

"The usual shit," Marc says, taking your hand to lead you down the steps that cut through the bleachers. "How beautiful you look, how amazing the sunset looks, asking questions about the game."

You chuckle and let yourself be pulled along to your seats. According to Marc they're the best seats in the house aside from box seats - and you have to agree they are.

If only because you get to witness Marc Spector get incredibly worked up over a baseball game, his baseball cap on backwards. If only because you get to watch him smile and shout and be uninhibitedly happy. If only because you get to listen to him excitedly explain different things about the game to you, reminding you just a little bit of Steven with anything Egypt related.

You kiss him in the middle of a sentence, and when you pull back, he just keeps talking.

You think his ears might turn just a bit red.

It's during the seventh-inning stretch that you look over and find Jake looking back at you instead of Marc.

"Jake," you say. "Hey, baby."

You glance around, wondering if Jake was just being Jake by showing up at an expected time or if something caused him to front. "Is-,"

"Everything's okay," he tells you, his body turned towards yours as he reaches up to pull off Marc's hat, bending the bill in his hands when he settles it in his lap. "Hey mi vida, got somethin' to say to ya."

"Oh yeah?" You ask as the crowd takes up singing a startling bad rendition of take me out to the ball game. "And what's that?"

He shrugs and picks up your hand, glaring at a passing spectator that almost drops his beer on you. "Jake," you say, trying to avoid him cussing the guy out. "What is it?"

"Marc - he's making good memories with you today," Jake says, turning to peer into your eyes with his familiar intensity, angling your crossed legs toward him with a broad palm against your knee. "And that's real good."

Your heart gives a painful thump.

"He told me, Jake," you say carefully. "Well, Steven had to tell me some of it. About - about his family. His childhood." You pause, and take both of Jake's hands even though he tries to pull away. "I wasn't going to let anything happen. I'm here to help you protect them now."

"And you're doin' a good fuckin' job, honey," he tells you, patting your hands, bringing your hand to his mouth for a suave kiss against your knuckles.

You smile and press you other hand to the back of his neck, tugging at a dark curl, "You're doing a good job too."

Jake shifts, the praise he isn't used to making him roll his shoulders, clearly discomforted in a way that makes you grin and pull at his hair again.

"I'm gonna let him back out, before he gets too pissed," Jake says gruffly, "It's his thing. But don't think I'm not taking you to a fuckin' Mets game, corazón. Pizza after."

"Of course, Jake," you smile. "And it’s definitely not a competition, right?"

Jake scoffs and leans forward to kiss you, "I'd have ta feel like it's a fuckin' challenge first."

And before you get a chance to respond his eyes roll back slightly, and Marc is back. A scowl pulling over his face. "It's definitely going to be a challenge, Lockley," Marc says as you laugh.

He grins back at you and cups his hands against your cheeks, eyes searching yours for a moment, "Thank you, baby. For coming here with me." His voice is earnest and quiet and soft.

And then he's kissing you, gentle and sweet, his thumbs carefully tracking back and forth against your skin. You reach up to circle your fingers around his wrists, trying not to let the tears building in the corners of your eyes spill out. You'd do anything, for all of them. This was nothing.

You don't know it, but you've just made it onto the jumbotron kiss cam.

#marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x you #jake lockley x you #jake lockley #marc spector #steven grant #steven grant x reader #moon knight #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fanfiction

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cassieuncaged · 2 months

Text

Night Out (A Mortal Kombat Oneshot)

Summary: Nyx and Alex go out for a night out, away from the Black Dragon.

TW: shenanigans, light violence, bleeding, suggestiveness, mention of tattoos, language (etc.)

WC: 3.4 K

A/N: Thank you to the amazing @chadillacboseman for letting me use Alex for this totally fun oneshot of Nyx actually making a friend and finally allowing someone to get to know her (sort of). It's just a fun outing mostly and little bit of trouble because this is the gruesome twosome we're dealing with here :)

Other's OC's Mentioned:

Echo (@roofgeese)

Tigue (@mintspider)

Ombra (@theelderhazelnut)

Kate (@quantum-lover)

Thanks for letting me borrow your babies!

Taglist: @roofgeese, @chadillacboseman, @theelderhazelnut, @quantum-lover, @elderglocks, @galaxycunt, @voidika, @spacestephh

Lights on the rooftop flickered, cigarette smoke hanging in a filmy haze. The night was black, starless except for the skyline of L.A. If that even counted. Nyx expelled smoke from her painted lips, thinking of the city and her crummy little apartment crammed above a Thai food restaurant. At least that meant unlimited helpings of pho and noodles to get her through sleepless nights.

The door creaked on its hinges before slamming shut with a thud. Rubber soles smacked against loose asphalt. Nyx felt her jaw tighten, suppressing a scream as she felt the pressure of company forced upon her. Nostrils flared, fat plumes of smoke exuding in silent aggression.

“What up, Elvira.” Alex yawned, nursing a swollen jaw with a frozen flank steak. She had no idea where it came from and didn’t really want an explanation. “Surprised you’re still here.”

“Doing Kano’s dirty work doesn’t leave me with a lot of time for a budding social life.” Burgundy eyes rolled, contact slipping enough to reveal a sliver of blue. Alex didn’t seem to notice. “Don’t you have another fight?”

“Got paid to throw it,” he shrugged, setting the steak on the ledge to pull a hoodie over his plain t-shirt. “Took a pretty nasty hit to the jaw. Bit the inside of my cheek.”

He tapped the bloated side of his face, blood soaked gauze exposed when his lips were cracked open.

“That explains it then,” Nyx smirked, flicking her cigarette off down below. He sounded like his tongue was too fat for his mouth.

“That’s littering,” he lisped with a chuckle, earning an eye roll, “Red irises tonight.”

“Yeah. So?” she snapped, crossing her arms over a leather clad chest.

“Just making small talk.” He laughed again, wincing at the throbbing pain in his jaw. “Which you are great at by the way.”

“Dickhead,” Nyx groused, eyes focusing on the waning sliver of moon.

“I’d make a jab too but something tells me you’d sock me in the other cheek.”

“Just like Jesus.” She actually cracked a smile, tipping her head in his direction. Alex hand never noticed until then how long her nose was, silhouette prominent against sprawling darkness.

“Exactly.” he nodded firmly, watching as she rested her arms across the ledge. Alex did the same. “Except I can’t turn water into wine.”

“Bummer.” that dry timbre returned, pale fingers knotted in a fist, nails lacquered black.

Of course.

Nyx was as plainly predictable as she was capricious. A mall goth pushing what everyone assumed was thirty, based on interests and pop culture references. Alex had garnered that she’d watched the Price Is Right when she was home sick from school and loved Gerard Way. Both were slips on her part but he could be disarming considering the regulars who frequented the Black Dragon. She wasn’t completely inscrutable like Echo.

“What’s your poison? You don’t seem like a cabernet type.” He pronounced the word incorrectly.

“Cabernet.” She corrected, lazily. He didn’t mind the habit of hers. It bothered the shit out of Kabal and Kano. “And I don’t drink. Not anymore.”

“Alcoholic?” he giggled, trying to be quippy and fresh. Keep the mood light. It wasn’t his best idea.

“Recovering actually. Prefer the Devil’s Lettuce these days. Maybe a bit of Molly if I go to a club.” This was absolutely shocking. He felt like he was discovering virgin land. No one else had ever pushed this far and been admitted. He’d expected a sweetheart like Kate would have been able to crack this nut but apparently it was Alex who was the excavator of this social ‘dig’. “Good way to pick up chicks.”

“You go out?” he was flabbergasted, scratching at the tag at the neck of his t-shirt. “I thought the rumors about you going home to a ferret were true.”

“Who the fuck knows about that?” she turned completely, black lips agape, piercings gleaming in the moonlight. A septum and an eyebrow stud. Not to mention a fading scar decorating one eye. He’d never studied her like a bug under a microscope before.

“Kabal. Says your pillow talk leaves something to be desired.” He shrugged, half smile plastered across a tan face. Black brows quirked. If Nyx didn’t know any better, she’d say he was handsome. A dope, but handsome nonetheless.

“Fuck a guy once and he can’t stop talking about your ferret.” Those dark eyes rolled, in annoyance, small hands flying up to smooth bi-colored hair.

“That sounds like a double entendre.”

“Well, it’s not.”

“What’s it named?” he was genuinely curious, shocked by their conversation’s progression. Any other time she’d briskly tell him to ‘fuck off’.

“Her name is Ghost.” she added softly, “She’s all I have left.”

A heavy silence lingered as Nyx fished in her pockets for fingerless leather gloves. Pulling them over pallid digits. She was getting ready to leave. Alex wasn’t exactly expecting a goodbye but was wholly shocked when she cocked her head and said:

“Wanna go out and paint the town black?”

……

Muscular arms wrapped around Nyx’s middle as the Ducati zipped through traffic. She wasn’t used to a passenger but loved the chance to show off. Even though she wore the only helmet; hopefully Alex wouldn’t go careening off into the street, head splitting like a watermelon.

She liked the guy and that would be a tragedy.

So the woman carefully glided between vehicles, sliding through a few yellow lights before turning onto Sunset. Neon lights blinded them, theaters wedged between many palm trees in concrete prisons. She hated the nightlife splendor, only partaking in a few clubs to find someone to occasionally warm her bed. There was never company, a passenger wrapped around her gut, clenching tighter at every stop light.

“You want In ‘n Out?” she slid the visor back, turning so Alex could hear her. She knew he was a glutton for carbs but only got a sharp headshake in response.

“Nah,” his voice was muffled beneath his white fanged mask, dark eyes sparkling with childlike glee. “Let’s find a strip club around here. Those places have the best wings.”

“Really?” she asked, fingers tapping on the leather handles of the bike, eyes flitting back to the fiery red light. “Didn’t take you for the strip club type.”

“What can I say,” he stretched his fingers across her leather clad jacket, catching a slight spasm. “Holy shit! Are you ticklish? The Princess of Darkness is a secret softyyyy-”

His words lingered like a comic book character’s speech bubble left hanging in the air, tires screeching when the light turned green. Stark white hair covered dark eyes like a blindfold as Nyx weaved in and out of cars. A chorus of honks chided them, a track of burnt rubber tattooed onto the asphalt.

The distant Hollywood Hills looked like mountainous peaks, light pollution adding a supernatural austere. Nyx enjoyed how the city came alive at night, sprawling miles of pink and blue lights spreading out like a network of veins. They were nestled in the belly of the breathing beast, the same one that housed the parking lot she wickedly turned into. Alex held on for dear life, jostled off the seat before she slid into an empty spot.

“That was kickass,” he proclaimed, pulling his mask off and slicking wild hair back into its ponytail. “You ever watch Akira?”

“Hell yeah,” she added, voice muffled beneath the helmet before prying it off. Black and white was fully revealed in a waterfall, space buns slightly squished. “Always wanted to recreate that slide. Figured it’d make me a badass.”

“Puh-lease.” Dark chocolate eyes rolled, tan skin appearing golden beneath flashing neon lights. The man had the body of a heart throb housing the personality of a puppy. He was like a cute kid brother she was growing protective of. “You say that like you aren’t already.”

“Thanks,” black lips pursed for a moment as gloved fingers sat the helmet atop the vinyl seat. Both turned to gawk at the neon sign flashing above them. It read Sunset Girls in flamingo pink, featuring the silhouette of a woman dancing when the light flickered. “You wanna go in?”

“Fuck yeah,” Alex exclaimed, pulling a pair of Wayfarers from his pocket and sliding them on. Nyx snorted; he looked ridiculous wearing sunglasses and sporting a purpling bruise on his jaw. One arm was tossed across her slender shoulders as he steered them both towards the door.

……

The place wasn’t a dive, but it sure as hell wasn’t classy either. Blue and purple lights painted the stage in the same indigo as an aquarium paired with the odiferous scent of cheap perfume and sweat.

Nyx had secured a small table towards the back while Alex combed through a rather sizeable buffet, sunglasses pushed atop his head. Def Leppard’s Animal throbbed through the sound system while a woman with a curtain of bottle blonde hair snapped a sequin bikini off.

Black lips curled in amusement; the establishment was so painfully cliched, right down to the schlubby sleazes roaring in amusement and throwing crumpled dollars onto the lighted floor. Taking a sip of a weakly mixed Bloody Mary, red contacts found her buddy for the evening ambling over with an abundantly filled plate.

“Here!” The food was plopped on the table, one side being presented as an offering. “They even had crab rangoons. You like those?”

“Not usually at a nudie bar, but I’ll bite.” Alex only smiled politely, not completely hearing sardonic words buried beneath the hair rock. Picking up the fried packet of dough, Nyx carefully tore it open with her front teeth. The filling was actually quite delicious as she began to chew, watching Alex destroy a pile of wings, “Holy shit, this is amazing!”

“Best part about these places is the food!” He used one hand to magnify his voice as soon as the song ended.

“Dude,” a man a few tables over chimed in, “You know there’s naked chicks here, right?”

“Drizzle them in cheese and jalapeños like the nachos at the buffet and then we’ll talk.”

Nyx practically choked on her drink, watching in amusement as the stranger grinned awkwardly, earning a genuine thumbs up from Alex before Xtina’s Dirrty was queued next.

“You’re alright.” She settled leather clad arms on the table before playfully socking the man in the shoulder.

“Kano should get you to fight,” he snickered, playfully rubbing his arm, “You could smash someone’s skull with that right hook.”

“Shut up,” her eyes rolled before quick fingers snuck another rangoon from his plate.

“Come on,” he teased, “sharpen it up and you’d fit right into the line up with Tigue and Ombra.”

“Don’t forget about Kate.” She warned; the woman could fry them all to a crisp but Nyx had a soft spot for her.

“I always thought you didn’t give a shit about us at the club. Like in a ‘too cool for school’, edgy rebel sort of way.”

“I don’t like to get attached to anyone in this business,” her gaze dropped to the table, fingers aimlessly braiding straw wrappers together. “It’s depressing.”

“Yeah,” he nodded knowingly, face cast in a shade of blue as he chewed. “But so is being alone. Besides, it’s not like any of us at the Black Dragon are saints; we can take care of ourselves.”

Before she could respond, there was a commotion from the private rooms behind them. Both of them immediately turned when a woman screamed:

“Get your hands off me, scumbag.”

No one else could hear anything over the music, leaving them to Nancy Drew the situation. Nyx slinked from her seat, leading the way as Alex wiped sauce sticky fingers on his sweatpants. The ‘private rooms’ were only alcoves hidden by velvet curtains, offering little privacy. There was another squeal from the closest one, followed by a smack. Nyx eyed her compatriot, silently directing him to take the other side.

“I paid for this, I’ll do what I want.”

Taking the lead, Alex slid in first, hands proudly resting on his hips when Nyx bolted past the thick , purple curtain.

“Not if we have anything to say about it!” He announced jubilantly, confounding the showgirl from squabbling with her sleazy patron. She moved to cover herself with a decorative cushion.

“What are you, Superman?” Nyx screwed up her pale features with disgust. Alex broke character, hands thrown up in surrender.

“Whaddya want? I’m trying to be heroic!” he declared, pounding his chest with one fist. The dancer flipped dark curls over one shoulder, dropping the cushion to reveal bare breasts. Both tried to stop their eyes from dropping immediately.

“I don’t a hero,” her green eyes glowed in the dim light, red lips open with a huff, “I need my manager to remove this fucking creep.”

“Hey, I paid extra!” The man roared, sporting slicked back hair and a bowling shirt. “If I wanna touch your tits, I will.”

“Listen, Tony Soprano,” it was Alex’s turn to roll his eyes, cross his arms across a maroon hoodie. “Everyone knows you get to look, not touch.”

“Who the hell are you two? Her guardian angels?” His beady eyes narrowed, paunchy face drenched in sweat. The man was astoundingly repulsive.

“No,” Nyx admitted coolly, kicking the heel of one boot forward before slickly pulling a kunai from the heel, “Just a couple shadows that you’re going to forget. Along with this woman. You’re gonna go home to your sad little house and jerk off like everyone else.”

“Or what?” His eyes were on the weapon, watching with the others as she brought the heavy object to dark lips before sticking out a pink tongue. Bringing the blade to soft skin, Nyx carefully brought the sharp edge across the edge of her tongue, releasing a shallow rivulet of blood. The tip flitted to the edges of pointed incisors, giving her the visage of a vampire. She tossed the kunai upwards before catching it.

“Do you really want to find out?” Her voice was huskier, dark as a thick syrupy bourbon with a bite to it. The man shook his head before scrabbling past the curtain and out of their sight. Black lips jutted forward as she sucked on her tongue, swiftly pocketing the knife before management got involved.

“Holy shit.” Alex gawked, along with the dancer who seemed not to mind their company. “That was awesome.”

“Yeah,” dark curls bounced as she nodded, “Thought we were going to have to call the cops. But you’re a bit of a freak. I appreciate it.”

“No problem. Sorry to bother you. The two began to peel the curtain open when the woman spoke again.

“Wait!” she fell back onto the red velvet bench. “I have fifteen minutes left before we need to vacate. Either of you want a dance? The other can get a free drink at the bar. For your troubles.”

Leather clad fingers clapped a broad shoulder, as Nyx leaned in to jokingly whisper:

“Go get her, tiger. I’m going to claim my boozy reward.”

……

Lucky’s was a grungy tattoo parlor on the edge of Hollywood Boulevard, sandwiched between a dry cleaner’s and a gated pawn shop. It was filled with a couple artists who worked on the occasional celebrity, sometimes after awards shows down at the Dolby Theater.

“You sure you both want skulls?” Ernie asked dutifully, scrawny as his partner Billy was pudgy.

“Yeah!” Alex spun in a swivel chair as Nyx extended a bare wrist. “They’ll be different. I want flames and she wants snakes.”

“Maybe like an ouroboros through the skull's eyes?” she added as Ernie sketched a design.

“You want it eating its tail or some shit?” a bushy brow arched upwards before she nodded her head. “To each their fucking own.”

“Fuck yeah!” Alex jeered with joy, spinning again. All the posters displaying flash prints bled together as he rode his high from dissipating liquor and a free lap dance. “Tonight is stellar.”

“You a couple?” Billy grumbled from behind his own sketch pad, expelling a huff from his nostrils.

“Nah,” Nyx piped up, suddenly animated, “He’s my baby brother. Wanted to get a tattoo with his big sis.”

“Heh,” Ernie exclaimed, revealing his sketch with fanfare. “Don’t look anything alike.”

“Different dads,” Alex added ruefully, winking at Nyx when she threw a sheath of black and white hair over one shoulder. “Genetics are weird, man.”

“Hell, yeah.” Ernie, jested, awaiting for her approval of his design. “Would you believe Bill and I were cousins?”

“No shit?” Alex played along, finally stilling in his seat. Then the tattooer threw his head back, cackling with amusement.

“I’m fucking with you. Just like you’re fucking with me.” he giggled a little more playfully, “Not that I give a shit. One lady came in here back in February, wearing this fancy ballgown saying she just won a fucking Oscar.”

“Didn’t she have it with her?” Nyx asked flatly, less than impressed while Alex’s eyes ballooned wide.

“Can spot a fake a mile away.” Ernie seemed prideful, leaning forward to plaster the outline onto her arm, “Probably foil covered and filled with chocolate.”

“Probably,” she parroted, watching as he hopped to surprisingly lithe feet, grabbing a pair of latex gloves and fresh needles. It was going to fucking sting but if she weren’t ready to feel something again.

……

Alex picked at the gauze covering the soft skin of his forearm, shadow of a flaming skull winking beneath the sheer material. Blinking away the bright lights of the burger joint, he hissed as one finger traced the decorative wound. Nyx bit into a juicy sandwich, relishing in the tanginess of pink meat.

“Okay?” Her mouth was full, half masticated on full display.

“They not have manners wherever the hell you're from?” he chuckled, popping a fry between his lips as she clamped her jaw shut and roughly swallowed. “I’m fine. Takes more than a few needles to bother me. How’s yours?”

“Alright,” she patted the leather covered span of her wrist, where a snake threaded it’s way through a cracked skull’s open mouth. “Not my first rodeo. Have four others.”

“No shit.” Another long fry was swirled in a pool of ketchup. “What else you got?”

“Ghostface, a candy heart that says ‘Bite Me’, a bat on a tombstone. And a daisy.” her gaze dropped to her half eaten burger.

“Not to get all Sesame Street on you, but one of these things is not like the other.” Alex leaned forward, balancing his jaw in an upturned palm. “I mean, you don’t have to share, but I’ll never tell your secrets.”

“Cross your heart and hope to die?”

“Stick a needle in my eye.” A warm smile split across his face, the beginning of five o’clock shadow decorating his chin.

“It’s for my mom. It was her favorite.” Red eyes dropped to the red formica table, moisture gathering in the corners.

“That’s a nice memorial.” Silence settled between them, the comfortable kind that found old friends enjoying each other’s company. Alex continued to eat his fries as mellow rock music played through a crackling radio. It was either John Mellencamp or Bryan Adams, but what was the difference?

The sound of meat sizzled from the kitchen as patrons continued to filter in despite the clock that ticked well past midnight. Other night owls passed by the plexiglass windows, cigarettes hanging from their lips. That was normally what Nyx did after completing a job, wandering the streets and paying it cool, giving herself a few alibis.

But there were no jobs tonight. Just company.

“Virginia.” she blurted suddenly. “That’s wherever the hell I’m from.”

“Oh,” dark eyes widened to saucers again, realizing that a dangerous wolf had allowed him to pet her snout, teeth no longer bared. “Thanks for trusting me with that.”

“I don’t trust a lot of people.” she nodded, black lipstick starting to fade and reveal pale pink while matte powder bled away to reveal a stray smattering of freckles. The mask was slipping. “But you’re proving to be trustworthy.”

“Don’t hear that a lot.” his eyes grew to the size of saucers, chocolatey and inviting as ever. Nyx felt her contact slip again. “Thanks.”

She grinned, this time authentic. Her cheeks warmed at the moment of intimacy, something she hadn’t experienced since leaving home. Noah used to make her blush all the damn time, reminding her what a good sister she was. Compliments always turned her tomato red, like she didn’t really deserve it.

“Your eyes are pretty by the way. Blue like the ocean.” he mirrored her grin, even wider than before.

“Thanks,” she relayed once more. Maybe they were friends. Maybe friendship wasn’t that bad.

#fanfiction #mortal kombat fanfiction #nyx and alex #platonic otp #gruesome twosome #oc: nyx #oc: alex #friends ocs #thanks for letting me borrow him tara!#your the best 💕#mk alex #mk nyx

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officialparentofadrien · 1 year

Text

𝑻𝒓𝒊𝒑 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒊𝒈 𝑨𝒑𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑨𝒌𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒊 𝑺𝒆𝒊𝒋𝒖𝒓𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

read part 1 here! the second part of the mini scenario for my lovely and fellow sei lover @wsknbfanaccnt

Warnings: mentions of eating a lot

(Listening to Welcome To New York by Taylor Swift)

Well, there are two ways actually. You could've gone first class or private jet. Either way, you're travelling in high class and he's gonna make sure you're comfortable all the way through.

Once landing in New York, you bet that the hotel you're staying at is one of the best in the city. You know like Five Star Hotel, Grandiose Halls all that.

So average flights from Tokyo to New York take 12 hours.. let's say your flight left at 12pm so you'll be arriving at midnight.

As soon as you arrived at the Hotel, of course, you slept because duh? Jet Lag.

So first day in NYC will probably start with morning cuddles.

You'll be waking up in a fluffy bed that's facing the window that shows you the New York skyline with your precious boyfriend sleeping peacefully beside you for once. Usually, Seijuro wakes up first whenever you two sleep together, so it's rare for you to see a peaceful and sleeping Akashi Seijuro.

...for a short while because he opens his eyes a few minutes after you opened yours. (you almost had a heart attack)

"Jesus Christ, Sei..." You laugh lightly after his eyes suddenly open, lightly pushing him away. (He slept facing you so)

Seijuro gives you a small laugh in return, pressing a kiss to your forehead in apology.

"Forgive me, love." He says, his arm still holding you close.

After that, you two eat breakfast at the restaurant downstairs before you head on out to see the sights.

He insisted on renting a car but you said New York would be much more fun to explore on foot.

Seijuro was amused when you suddenly whipped out a well-decorated (Like highlighters, calligraphy and stickers) bucket list and started to walk around.

You guys ate a LOT of street food. You know those super yummy appetizing food you see on Pinterest when you search "New York Street Food"? Yeah, you ate a LOT of those.

Aside from eating, you took lots of pictures in different places.

You even played with a few dogs in Central Park and found it really funny when you saw Seijuro struggling with a dog that refuses to sit. (It's canon. He dislikes disobedient dogs) so you can just imagine your usually proper lover arguing with a puppy.

Obviously, the trip won't be complete without stopping by Liberty Island. Seijuro took almost all your pictures with that soft, fond smile on his face but you managed to convince him to take a picture WITH you a few times.

"I feel awkward in that picture," you say as you swiped on your phone, reviewing all the pictures you've taken.

Seijuro chuckled, brushing your hair away from your face. "Nonsense. You look beautiful," he says as he presses a loving kiss to your cheek.

(so so GODDAMN IN LOVE WITH THIS MAN)

You guys probably visited lots of museums too. You even joked once saying that he's a beautiful piece of art.

"That art is so pretty, Let me take a picture of it." "Love, the painting is over there." "I wasn't talking about the painting silly."

You guys had multiple back-and-forths of those in multiple museums that you visited.

He took a candid of you while you guys were in time square and it's now his wallpaper.

You did the same thing to him except you guys were at the Empire State Building while he was admiring the view.

Overall, this is the best date and trip you've ever had. For now, because he'll probably think of a way to top this trip.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

#knb #kuroko no basket #akashiseijuro #the basketball which kuroko plays #akashi seijuro #akashi seijuro x gn reader #akashi seijuro prompts #akashi fluff #akashi seijuurou #akashi x reader #akashi x y/n #generation of miracles #generation of miracles x reader #gom x reader

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sensitiveheartless · 8 months

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🎶, 🍆, 🎯

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

I do! I have tons of playlists for different fics, as well as ones that are just instrumentals for when I really need to focus. I have one that is basically just “for sad scenes in the rain”, I have one for the Skyline pigeon fic which does in fact have the song “Skyline Pigeon” in it as well as a bunch of Neighbor Totoro songs, I have a pretty giant one for the Howl AU…etc lololol as for what song I’ve been playing a lot recently…uhhh I have to check actually let’s see:

Ok so for the Howl AU, while I’m working on the epilogue and such, I’ve been listening to “Patience gets us nowhere fast” by Capital Cities, as well as “When can I see you again” by Owl City.

Also just as a general skk song: “No Lullaby” by Siames!

Oh, and less as something for a specific character and more just cause I like the song: “Loving You” by Cannons :D (I know that was more than one song but I like music alskdjfj)

🍆 Do you write the spicy stuffs? If so, what’s your most popular nsfw fic?

…Ok so I have written a singular spicy stuffs, but I posted it on anonymous because a), I know at least some minors follow me and I didn’t want to inadvertently encourage anyone to read content they aren’t ready for (speaking as someone who had too much internet access as a kid and got exposed to certain things way too early), and b), I have an irl friend who may stumble across this account at some point and if they see that fic in particular then I will die a little on the inside.

So I won’t be linking it here, but if any of y’all are adults and want me to link it to you in a DM then I wouldn’t mind, just keep in mind that I am not a particularly adept spiceologist (seriously no clue what I’m doing, that fic is mostly an excuse to mess around and experiment with character stuff in a really low-stakes premise), and also the fic spawned from a “hey wouldn’t it be funny if” thought I had, which then grew a character study around what is still essentially just a goof.

Also of course y’all can probably find it on your own, I don’t think it’d be that hard lol — but if you are a minor please do not talk to me about the fic, I would be extremely uncomfortable.

(I would offer to make a sfw version but unfortunately the nsfw is baked into the stupid premise jskdkdjfhf) (…actually some parts of it are kind of a sillier version of the Skyline Pigeon fic so I guess I am working on a more serious and sfw version of it)

All that said, this (sfw) bit from it still makes me laugh, so here:

🎯 Have any of your readers accurately guessed major plot points? Care to share which?

Just about everyone who knew the plot of Howl’s Moving Castle before reading the Howl AU (and even some people who didn’t!) guessed what the twists were going to be before the ~grand reveals~ (although fewer people caught on to the Oda reveal, I think in part cause that one was more based on the HMC book rather than the movie) and I was honestly expecting that going into it lol —

I felt like trying to make it shocking would be less fun than the readers being able to accurately piece everything together for themselves. I loved seeing people commenting “OH MY GOSH THAT’S WHAT’S HAPPENING” as they went through the chapters, because it meant they were thinking over all the clues! And that they cared about the story enough to do that! And even though most people knew what the “twists” were going to be, they still seemed excited to see how everything was going to pan out, so I had a great time :D

Ah, also, to be more specific cause I just realized I was being vague (spoiler warning lol): just about everyone knew that Chuuya was Starlight, most people guessed Rimbaud was the scarecrow, and I saw a handful of people figure out Oda before that reveal happened, too!

#ask box #ask game #senhart's writing #senhart rambles

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coffeeandcalligraphy · 2 months

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After death | Lost Gods

He looks at the skyline ahead of him, its famous shapes that tourists gape at like they’re observing a gorilla in an enclosure. It’s all grey to him, not just because of the looming storm but because the grids of buildings and lights have become boring in a way that seems fatal—this city is a dead thing on earth, he doesn’t care what anyone says. It’s all post-mortem—the blinking traffic lights, shafts of sunlight interrupted by high-rises, yellow taxis honking, honking, honking, like they’re shouting a prayer. He feels sort of like that too, caught in kitschy after death.

A little Harrison art <3 !! And an excerpt from the opening of Lost Gods!

4 years ago today I finished writing his very first solo novel, Moth Work, & I’m kind of in awe of how far we’ve come in that short time… 4 novels & 2 novellas narrated by this man who’s a little embarrassing and a whole lot profound (but you didn’t hear that from me!). A few more thoughts under the cut, but here’s a little note I made myself in 2020, the only note I’ve ever made after finishing a book (possibly because finishing this one changed my life a little).

TW for mentions of: mental illness, trauma in the mental health system, internalized homophobia

Technically I finished Moth Work at 2:34AM because I lived on the west coast at the time lol.

I don’t usually celebrate or remember the anniversaries of finishing books. But I wanted to celebrate this one because a) it’s Leap Day & I haven’t been able to commemorate what I was doing during the last one for 4 years, & b) because finishing MW was such a significant accomplishment!

I started MW in January of 2019 because I was struggling emotionally. At the time, I was racing to figure out “what was wrong with me” before flying across the country for uni in the summer (SPOILER I WAS JUST AUTISTIC LMAO), which led to a lot of stressful and traumatizing appointments with doctors. I desperately needed a book to cheer me up but a different one from my WIP at the time, especially because in 2018, I’d both discovered my voice and become really afraid of messing it up!

I also was taking a religion class at the time that was emotionally difficult for me because I felt reallyyyy alone and especially isolated in my queerness that I’d been hiding for a couple years at that point (& that I literally would not talk about at all, not even to people I trusted). When it became very clear I needed an outlet to explore my feelings (of being “unhelpable,” internalized homophobia, a general sense of aloneness/isolation) the decision of what I was going to write became pretty clear.

I’d written 3 stories in Harrison’s POV that predated MW starting in late 2018 (they were also my first explorations in third person present tense, which fun fact, I only tried in his POV because I’ve always written my notes ideas in that POV/tense combo, even when I only wrote first person!). I hadn’t written in a different POV character’s head beside’s Reeve’s since 2016, so it felt natural that the second character I felt closest to (Harrison!!!) could be a narrator. Funnily at this time Lonan was my favourite so I’m actually surprised I did not choose him but can we imagine how different things would be if I had???

I started Moth Work in my notes app (ICONIC) on January 16th 2019 at 11:37pm! The first chapter came pretty quickly, is actually quite non-linear for a bit, and was overall a lot of fun to write. I’d planned for the project to maybe be a short story or at the most a novella (does this sound familiar), nothing very long and definitely not a novel. I believe the goal word count was 5k which is so funny bc that’s exactly how Changing States & Lost Gods started!!!

And then the project stagnated, it wasn’t something I’d planned to write seriously, and I didn’t pick it back up until August of that year when my therapist at the time suggested I try to complete a “reach goal” as I was reaching Crisis and I guess I was so done with everything going on in my life that I was like okay fine!!!! I will write Moth Work as a novel!!!!

This book literally flew with me across the country… I wrote a lot of it late at night in my dorm with all the lights off after a long day on campus. I wrote a lot of it in my intro to sociology lecture LMAO. I wrote a lot of it on my phone. It was the first project (no literally) where I intentionally explored queerness, especially my own feelings as a (sort of?) catholic at the time. I explored atheism a lot! Something I needed to process my own feelings about faith & God. I explored what it’s like to be this completely unhelpable person because you’ve decided there’s no possible way to help yourself anymore (hiiii Lonan). I also explored (a bit like a premonition), what it’s like to care deeply for someone you can’t help (but that you very badly want to help).

And I almost didn’t finish the book! The imposter syndrome and insecurity went crazyyy when writing Moth Work. I didn’t feel like I was writing the First Person Retrospective Flowery Literary Fiction I’d deemed as the only possible “good writing.” (Still LOVE but I really was struggling seeing a very minor style shift, which is funnily much closer to my writing now than when I was writing the “best” way.) I deleted so much from this book. I couldn’t look at it. I was so embarrassed by it!! I made ultimatums with it!! I edited it so much but still couldn’t stand it! It was literally the safest space I had and I could barely be there a lot of the time!!!

SOOOO this is why I’m very proud of me for finishing it lol & while I would typically have celebrated the anniversary idk, in 2021, bc it didn’t exist until this year it felt apt to sit with those feelings now. I’m really proud of 17-year-old Rachel who was undiagnosed autistic & convinced I was a lost cause, who was sooo afraid of being queer I could only think of that through Lonan (& sometimes still do thx king 🫡) who literallyyyyy wrote a masterpiece in my collection that contains some of my best work (even if I only realized that 4 years later) & that’s been the start of EVERYTHING!

This is so much more than a book or an anniversary!! Somehow I made it through all the things I didn’t think were possible and now have written 2 books & 3 (writing the fourth) novellas allllll in this world. AND 2 additional novels in his POV!! Also thank you baby Rachel for Jeremiah. Like hello!!!! This is the only place I felt safe to be myself when I couldn’t be with anyone else! And there’s something priceless about that…

And it’s all bc of Harrison!!! Whoever I saw in that man in 2019… girl thank you!! Can’t explain what it’s like to grow with that character (who is sooo much more than that to me). Never would I have predicted where I am now. And IMO, that’s all thanks to him so ily fictional man in my head, this is soooo his day LOL.

& if you were here since the first MW update & made it this far… I MUST KNOW!!!!

#art #GETTING GUSHY UNDER THE CUT I COULDN’T HELP IT #tl;dr ily harrison #also everyone weigh in - what’s he listening to?????#IM THINKING OF READING SOME OF MW FROM THE PRINTED COPY #AT THE STREAM TOMORROW!!! SO COME!!!!#CELEBRATE THE DAY!!! YAYY!!!

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mycovenofchaos · 3 months

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Hey it's Peanut!

Someone asked about Evan's party days, and here is a reading about it. I asked for three cards for his younger party days, and I asked 3 cards to see how he is at parties now lol. Also. I asked about LiLo heh.

How was he at parties in his youth? 3 cards

9 of Pentacles: material success, reaping the fruits of your labor. Nouveau-riche, even. I call it the 'young money' card. Evan made it into Hollywood at a pretty young age. It's safe to say he is the first in his family to achieve this type of wealth that young. The figure in the card is a young, peroxide blonde woman, dressed in a classic Hollywood style; I can't help but think it's Emma, born into Hollywood by older actors. The pentagram-pentacles behind her look like awards, or even like the Stars on Hollywood Blvd in LA. Wow. This card is literally telling us that our boy was young, rich, and famous, dating a young starlet-nepobaby in fucking Hollywood of all places. Life was good, trust me lmao.

3 of Cups: Yup. Socializing. Social gatherings and crowded places. Everyone is holding a drink. I'm tasting bubbly drinks as I'm writing this lol; champagne? beer? Social butterfly energy. Party Boy. Man, I can't stop thinking about the pictures of drunk-high Evan at Coachella with Emma and their friends, that's what the card illustration looks like, like a retro-filtered Instagram selfie with your friends. This card is also the card of threesomes, or at least attracting many partners at the same time. I am not getting any cheating vibes, so don't start panicking. But I feel like when he was single he would absolutely have fun lmao.

8 of cups: leaving behind what doesn't serve him. Whatever it was, it felt empty. Change of heart, change of path. The picture shows a man walking away from 8 empty cups. The perspective and the colors of the illustration literally make it look like 8 empty wine cups on a coffee table, a man walking away into the city, the sky is mostly dark but the sun is about to rise behind the city skyline. This card feels like leaving, for the last time, an after hours in someone's living room, and you are walking home to go to bed when other's are starting their day. He has had all the meaningless drunk-high conversations there is to have. He has had all the drinks, been at all the right parties, and after-parties, but nothing fulfilled him. This is so interesting.

How is he at parties now? 3 cards

6 of cups: Innocence. Playing. Going back to what you know. Ah. This is refreshing. I think Evan prefers gatherings centered around games, activity, or generally any "pure" type of fun. This gives me amusement parcs, mini-golf, board and card games, renting a chalet in nature with friends or family. I am also getting the peace and familiarity of going back home. Spending time with childhood friends and siblings.

The Empress: Nurturing energy. All about fulfilling the senses. This makes me believe his social life is more about the quality of the experience. Going to cultural events like concerts or theater plays. High-brow fashion. Good wine. Good food, either home cooked by a loving strong mother, or at an expensive restaurant. Fancy drinks with good company. I don't know why but I can see him and his friends stretching back, grunting, and rubbing their bloated bellies LMAO. He is a foodie, after all. Also, this card has a strong female energy, so aside from his mother being a strong presence in his social life (as in, he spends a lot of time with her), it also indicates sensuality, flirting, sex appeal, and mature sexuality. He is probably having fun, like a single man would, but our man is being a gentleman about it.

The Fool: Leap of faith. Naivete. Ah, I love the fool here. Evan feels like wherever he is right now in his social life, he feels like it is a fresh sart. This is a stark comparison with the 8 of cups that we saw above. Nice. Evan feels good about his choices. He is optimistic and has a childlike enthusiasm about life. He trusts this new era of his life, and he is welcoming it with open arms. This is a place where he feels he can flourish. The only advice is to keep one foot on the ground.

I shuffled the deck to get a last card for his party days and Judgement jumped out. Yeah. Self-reflection, getting what you deserve, lessons learned from mistakes. I think this is the card that bridges the 8 of cups with The Fool. Evan went through a Party Boy era, Emma played a principal role in it. Including fame and money. Then he decided to leave that life behind. Now he is much more content with family time, friends, play, and good food lol.

SO!!!!! ABOUT LILO

I pulled 3 cards as well, asking "what should we know about Evan and Lindsay Lohan?"

8 of Wands: Things happening fast and out of the blue. Sudden communication. Whirlwind of activities. Meeting at a party where everything is crazy. Lively. Lots of movement. I see lots of flashing lights. The 8 of wands is also about communication out of the blue, so I feel like Evan got invited last minute at a party and it all happened very fast. It was clearly a one night stand and neither of them had any hopes it would last longer. It was a one -time deal. Quick and dirty, since wands are about fire energy hehe.

Knight of Wands: Again. Fast-moving Knight who is here for a good time, not a long time. Fire energy. Evan was just looking to get his dick wet. Period. Lmao.

Knight of Pentacles: Interesting. This is a young masculine man with lots of potential who is methodical about his progress. He may seem stagnant, but he is planning ahead. Slow progress is better than half assed quick success. This card combined with the Knight of Wands tells me there is a chance Evan saw himself, for a brief moment, as the heartthrob that everyone else saw him as, so why not try and sleep with THE Lindsay Lohan? He felt good about himself, and that confidence came from his success. He was a young Hollywood star taking what was in front of him. Again, I feel like he was a gentle man about it.

To recap; Evan definitely had a party phase, Emma was at the center of it, and he was taking advantage all that fame and money can give you at a young age. That party era was great but he’s had enough of that, and now Evan cherishes active and wholesome moments with friends and family. The quality of the experience is much more important to him. That change in lifestyle came from a lot self reflection. His one night stand with Lindsay Lohan was just that; a night stand at a party

😂😂😂 omg I loved this reading!!! Seriously!!! I can totally see Evan exactly like that!!!

Thank you, my party girl Peanut!!! 🥹🥳

✨ A gentle reminder: tarot is for fun and we should always take everything with a grain of salt and be opened to all the possibilities! ✨

#evan peters #evanpeters #evanpeterstarotreading #tarot reading #peanutreading

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notmaplemable · 2 years

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Ghosts of Summer: Prelude: Jaune decides to take a quick stop at Patch before continuing to Vale and finds this Hot redhead walking around looking sad which is strange as no one seems to notice her. Welp Better go say hi and see what's wrong like Mama Arc always said to.

Ghosts Of Summer 12: Pining On The Stem

Patch, one of Vale's safer frontier settlements. Though one could argue it wasn't really on the frontier. Being as close to the city of Vale as it was. Jaune could have seen the city's skyline from where he was standing, if he weren't busy depositing his breakfast into the sea surrounding Patch.

As it turned out, traveling by ferry with motion sickness was not a fun experience. He'd almost thrown up on a blond guy making his way off the ferry, but luckily he avoided soiling anyone's shoes. This time at least.

Once Jaune had finished feeding the fish and making sure nobody had stolen his bag he looked to Vale. Leaning on the dock railing. His mother had given him an address on Patch. Apparently one of her old friends from Beacon lived on the island. She'd said that he'd maybe be able to help Jaune be a bit more prepared, and something about a cute daughter.

But before Jaune could figure out his mother's matchmaking scheme he was distracted. By a woman standing just a few feet from him staring out into the sea with a solemn look on her face.

She looked to be in her mid twenties, and fairly short. With dark brown hair that transitioned into red. And she liked to wear black. With a black blouse, skirt, and black and white corset. Though her most striking feature would be her silver eyes. Jaune had to admit she was quite pretty.

And by the looks of it she was having a rather bad day. So Jaune decided to do what his mother had always told him to do. Help out a friend, or at least a potential friend. So he walked up to his silvered eyed friend to be.

"Hello! Umm, do you need any help? Or to talk to someone?" He said, it didn't seem like she heard him though. Maybe she was just that deep in thought, or was trying to ignore the random guy trying to talk to her. "I know I'm just a stranger, but my mom says strangers are just friends you haven't met yet. And I wouldn't want to leave a friend crying on a random pier."

She seemed to hear him this time. Chuckling a bit to herself, but still not turning to him. "That sounds like something Blanche would say."

"Oh do you know Blanche Arc? Because if you do that's my mom." He said smiling. If he was right it and this woman did know his mom maybe it would help break the ice a bit, but she didn't answer at first. Just turning and staring at Jaune with a look of surprise replacing her previous solemnity.

"You can hear me?" She said with hope in her voice.

"Yeah? I can see you too. Do people usually have trouble hearing you?"

"Nobodies been able to see or hear me since I died."

"Since you died?" It was at this point that Jaune noticed a few things. First being that this woman was slightly translucent. Second being that she was floating. And third being that the wind wasn't moving her hair. Yep, Jaune was talking to a ghost.

(Lot more description than usual with this one, and a bit of a different style than I usually use on here. Hopefully it turned out well. Tune it next time when Jaune and Summer go to the address that Jaune's mother gave him.)

#rwby #summer is a ghost au #jaune arc #summer rose #summer is missing something

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umichenginabroad · 9 days

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Madrid Week 11: Basque-ing in Nature

Hola a todxs! Niko here, back again with week 11 (writing this during week 12 oops [I had a huge databases project that I grinded on all of last week, expect a double blog week soon]) of studying abroad in Madrid!! I’ve got a little over a month and a half left in Madrid. Near the beginning of the semester, I mentioned a VSauce video about time that I enjoyed a lot. Recently in my culture class, we discussed the same concepts. Upon reflection, I think that I’m experiencing time in an incredibly ideal way.

What do I mean? Time flies by fast. It feels like weeks go by in the blink of an eye. Last week, what seems like yesterday, it was March, and now we’re already halfway through April. Time flies when you’re having fun, and I think that much is true. I’m having a blast, experiencing a new world every week, and as a consequence, I’m not thinking about time as it passes. It doesn’t drag; It goes by quickly.

But I’m still in lecture every week. And two of my classes (the engineering ones) are oftentimes unbearably boring. I feel time pass when I’m sitting in those chairs waiting for the time to go home. My life during the week is simple: go to class, cook meals, go to cafes to study. But on the weekends, I’m traveling across Spain and Europe, meeting new people, partying, the list goes on. So it’s kind of like a long-short time sandwich. I get to experience time dragging on in the moment, and I also get to experience it flying by. And, because the exciting experiences happen regularly and frequently, weekends fill up huge blocks in my memories that make it feel like I’ve been here for years. I would say that “it feels like just yesterday that I stepped foot off the plane” but no, it really doesn’t. It feels like an eternity ago, truly.

So, I’m kind of milking time for nearly all that it’s worth, which I think is a W. We’ve only got so much of it in this life. Anyways, there goes my bi-monthly rant on time. Hopefully it didn’t drag on too much. Or hopefully it did. Or both. 🙂

Anyways, last weekend, I learned a very important lesson. Two of my roommates (Eli, Max) and a close friend (Jack) rented a car (#JeepTrailhawk) and took a trip up to Northern Spain (Please don't mind the terribly cheesy title), splitting our time between Basque cities and Spain’s best national park. The lesson? As much as I love cities — incredible amalgamations of culture, humanity and energy — I’ll never experience the same type of awe and amazement looking out over a skyline as I do gazing upon a range of staggeringly huge snow capped mountains. Let’s talk about the trip:

Gatzetelugatxwho?

We set out from Madrid late Thursday evening. After a short-lived yet intense fiasco with google maps sending us in a couple of loops around Madrid after someone (the driver) (Max) missed a couple of turns, we were on the highway headed North. We had about 4 hours of driving until we reached Bilbao, where we had rented an Airbnb for the night. It was a pretty drive — Madrid is surrounded by a beautiful Sierra not even 30 minutes outside of the center. We arrived at our Airbnb (which was situated in a weird liminal space-ish neighborhood) and crashed, ready to tackle the morning task: Gatztelugatxe.

Huh? Yes, I was as confused as you probably are the first time I read that word. Especially the tx, which is pronounced as ch in Euskera, the mysterious language of the Basque people that has no known origin or connection to any modern tongue. It looks and sounds weird, and in the Basque country you’ll see it everywhere. It almost feels like it could have been spoken in some far off kingdom in Game of Thrones.

Speaking of, we went to Dragonstone, AKA Gatztelugatxe. Shout out whoever the location scout was for those scenes, because they absolutely killed it. The site was beautiful, and I think the pictures will speak for themselves.

After that, we drove a few more hours to San Sebastian and explored. The energy was incredible. Sunny weather, beautiful city side beach, Burnt Basque cheesecake, calming sunset and delicious food (pintxos = tapas in Euskera!). There’s not much more that I can say other than the fact that simply walking around and taking it all in was an absolute joy.

We proceeded to drive 4 hours west that evening to our second stop of the weekend: Picos de Europa national park (driving quickly through Bilbao, which has a really cool modern architectural style). We arrived at our Airbnb in the pitch black around 12 am, stumbled our way inside, cooked a comically oversized dinner (1.5 kg of pasta is too much for 4 people btw) and prepared for our big hike the next day.

The Hike

We woke up bright and early (it was like 10am) Saturday morning, ready for the 7.5 mile, 3000 foot climb ahead of us. I’d done a 13 miler with a similar increase in elevation once before in the Texan desert (Marufo Vega trail in Big Bend, highly recommend), so I wasn’t too concerned with the difficulty — only with whether we picked a worthwhile trail. I was silly for underestimating “Lon - Río Burón - Peña de Mañimoco”.

We started by driving into a tiny town in the national park, parking on the side of the road and setting off into a dirt trail that winded shallowly up the mountain. At this point, I was unimpressed. Most of our view of the mountain ahead of us was blocked by trees, and the path felt too well kept to be the basis of the true rugged backcountry experience I desired. Jokingly, we pointed to the top of the mountain we were hiking towards when we got to a clearing, asking damn, wouldn’t it be crazy if we went up there.

Yeah, it would have been crazy, but I guess 3000 feet is not to be underestimated, especially if you start at 1000. The paved trail split off into a smaller one once we broke through the treeline, which split off into a gravel shoot winding up the ridge of the mountain we had joked about a mile or two earlier. The wind started picking up, threatening to throw us off the mountain at any second as we climbed higher and higher (it was seriously intense wind. Jumping up, we actually caught a little extra airtime).

Each switchback revealed a view of the mountain and the valley below that was more stunning than the last. We passed through a huge diversity of different terrains, each so distinct they felt like Minecraft biomes stitched together. We even happened upon a herd of domesticated cows (which we were terrified of passing out of fear that they would attempt to butt us off the face of the mountain... we thought they were wild at first). At one point, we came across a meadow that looked like it came straight out of a studio Ghibli movie. We quite literally frolicked in the grass as another hiker (the only other person we saw on the trail) watched us from behind a tree, hiding from the wind. We talked to that guy later, we called him the Wind Wizard.

On this hike, I felt something reminiscent of the feeling I got as a 6 year old playing imagination games in the basement of my childhood home — unashamedly wide-eyed excitement. Looking out over the Picos de Europa (literally, the peaks of Europe) I couldn’t help but smile. This is the feeling I mentioned at the beginning of this blog that I think I can only experience whilst totally immersed in nature. At its core, it’s rooted in mindfulness and gratitude for the present moment -- something that I try to practice as much as possible in my everyday life.

However, the reason this trip ended up being one of my favorites I’ve taken so far wasn’t just for the things that I saw — it was for the people that I spent it with. As much as I enjoy the independence and exploration of solo-traveling, I think that experiencing new things with trusted friends will almost always be more enjoyable. Being rooted in that feeling of wonder with others makes it feel more exciting, more significant, more real — both while it’s happening, and in the memories that stay with us forever.

We finished the hike with a steep decline down the mountain and ended up back at the car, where we drove into the larger town and got some drinks at a local cafe (where they had original craft beers on tap, and where I tasted the best Vermouth I've ever had). We left our airbnb early the next morning, but not before buying a block of cheese from the local Queseria (which was also absolutely fire). En fin, this was one of the most beautiful and rewarding hikes I've ever done, rivaled only by the aforementioned Marufo Vega. I think we chose well!

So, my key takeaways from this trip? Nature is awesome, and so is experiencing it (and life in general) with other people. At the end of the day, we’re just really smart animals who evolved (in nature) to be biased towards social behavior, so I guess that makes sense (#evolutionarypsychology?). I’ll be in the Bay Area this summer for an internship, and I’m really excited to go backpacking over the weekends in all of the epic nature that surrounds the area, meeting new people along the way.

Here's the itinerary list for this week's trip:

Basque Country Google Maps List

That’s all for this week’s blog! As always, check out the picture descriptions for a little more info. Thank you all very much for reading, and I’ll see y’all next week 🙂

Adios,

Niko Economos

Aerospace Engineering

Universidad Carlos III de Madrid

Madrid, Spain

[email protected]

#UmichEnginAbroad #IPEUC3M #NikoEconomos #IPEWinter24 #Spain

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moonstruck-writing · 1 year

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Title: Sheltered Winter Pairing: Tsuzuru Minagi x reader | A3! Rating: Teen C/Ws: gender-neutral reader, domestic fluff, established relationship, flustered Tsuzuru, Christmas fluff, they all enjoy teasing Tsuzuru Requested by @emilycollins00 <;3 Summary: Christmas arrives right after Tsuzuru and you have started dating, and Kazunari decides it’s the best time to invite you to spend time at Mankai – without Tsuzuroon knowing. Word count: 3k A/N: I hope you can enjoy this as a belated present for Reyes, Emi! I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope you have just as much fun (if not more) reading it <3

Also, Christmas is used here in a general way, it doesn’t have to be the 25th.

Fog clung to the walls of buildings, blurring the skyline of the city. It was cold, but it was a good type of cold. It was Christmas, when it seems that winter isn’t so harsh, and the lights accentuate the beauty of the season. You tried to snuggle further into the scarf around your neck, but it wasn’t enough. Even then, the thought of your destination kept you warm somehow.

You were going to see Tsuzuru. And not just that, but you were going to spend Christmas with him. It felt like a dream, and you felt giddy and excited. It hadn’t passed that much time since you had last seen each other but seeing him in those circumstances felt extra special. Specifically, because you had only begun dating recently. That contributed to the feeling of walking inside a dream. You couldn’t quite believe it, but you knew that soon it would all feel real. The wide smile that spread on your face couldn’t be covered by the scarf.

Receiving the invitation to spend Christmas at Mankai had surprised you, since it came from Kazunari, but you hadn’t thought much about it. You had known him for a long time since you had friends in common, but it hadn’t been until you went to see one of the plays he starred in, that you met Tsuzuru. For some reason, Kazunari had insisted on introducing you and your friends to all the members of Mankai that were present, and that’s when you found out Tsuzuru wasn’t just an actor, but that he wrote the scripts for the plays too. You chatted with him a bit, and soon enough you two connected through your passion for writing and reading. It could’ve been a one-time thing, meeting a kindred spirit and then parting, but it was not. Tsuzuru texted you the title of a book he had mentioned to you – thanks to Kazunari for being the bridge that once again connected you, this time technologically – and you entered Tsuzuru’s world.

And that world came with every single member of Mankai.

You had spent countless times backstage, congratulating the troupe on their plays, and Tsuzuru on the script. You had even spent evenings at the dorms, hanging out with Kazunari and some of the others. But now, it was different.

Now you were spending time at Mankai as Tsuzuru’s partner. Not just a friend, but so much more.

As you approached the dorms, you wondered if you should text Tsuzuru or simply ring the bell. You weren’t sure who would open it, and as much as you wanted to think you were on good terms with many of his fellow actors, you still weren’t as comfortable as you would’ve liked. So you opted for the safer option.

<Tsuzu, I’m at the door.>

It wasn’t long until a message popped on your screen.

You looked around, trying to figure out if there was supposed to be more than one door to the dorms, even if you had always gotten inside through the one you were standing on.

<You’re at the dorms?>

<Yes, I was coming today, don’t you remember?>

You saw his status change from typing to online and then change again. It made your stomach act up.

Meanwhile, Tsuzuru seemed to have started an impromptu gymnastics session. He jumped from the chair he was sitting on, typed and deleted a million questions, and ultimately decided to rush to the bathroom to check his appearance before opening the door.

He had no idea why you were there, but couldn’t bring himself to ask in the end. Had it been his mistake? Had you two made plans beforehand? Because of the way you had phrased it, it didn’t seem you had simply decided to surprise him.

He combed his hair a few times and straightened his hoodie, and then the butterflies appeared. He was going to see you. You were there.

When he opened the door, you greeted him with a smile and a shiver.

“I’m so sorry, you must be so cold, come in quickly.” He instinctively reached for your arm, pulling you inside. The contact lit a fire inside you, melting the cold that was biting at your skin.

“So, what were you doing?” You asked while taking off your shoes.

“Oh, just seeing what new plays were happing around. Fieldwork.” He put his hands inside his hoodie’s pocket and looked at you from behind.

“You want to go see some plays?”

“Yeah, I figured I can also study scriptwriting by seeing the actual performances, not just reading scripts and books.” He shrugged, even if you couldn’t see it. “Want to come with?”

You turned around and flashed him a wide smile. Tsuzuru couldn’t even hear your answer from the waves your reaction had created in him.

“Ah! You’re here!” Kazunari’s voice echoed in the entrance.

Tsuzuru turned around, facing Kazunari. It didn’t take long for him to put two and two together. Tsuzuru sighed, unable to do anything else. But instead of feeling defeated by Kazunari’s ideas, he felt grateful. You were here now.

“You can leave your things in Tsuzuroon’s room.” Kazunari addressed you. “You haven’t seen it yet if I’m not mistaken. And I’m sure you’re extra hyped for it.”

“Hey!” Tsuzuru couldn’t help but grumble. His room was a mess and there was no way he wanted you to see that. Kazunari should’ve given him a heads-up at least!

“Honestly, I do want to see your room.” You looked at Tsuzuru, standing up and finally properly entering the dorms. He didn’t really have any other options. Tsuzuru sighed again, closing his eyes.

“Okay, but just give me a couple of minutes.”

“Ohh, is there something you want to hide, Tsuzuroon?”

The glare Tsuzuru shot him petrified Kazunari. It wasn’t the first time he joked around with him, but it was the first time he saw him reacting in such a way.

“I’ll keep y/n company until you come back, so no need to worry!”

“That’s exactly what I’m worried about.”

You laughed and Tsuzuru’s face seemed to soften a little.

“I’ll come back quickly.” He searched for any signs of discomfort in your eyes, but he only found calmness. Once he disappeared down the corridor, you sat down on the sofa next to Kazunari.

“So it was your idea.” You looked at Kazunari, and he quickly understood what you meant.

“I wanted to WOW Tsuzuroon. You know the word vacay doesn’t really exist in his vocabulary.” There was nothing you could say to that, even if you knew he could’ve gone about other ways with the plan. “And you haven’t been here in a while.”

“Yeah, since before we started dating,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. “Have you missed m—”

“You’re dating?” Kazunari interrupted you, chuckling to himself. “Man, I did all this to bring you closer!” He leaned further into the sofa, bringing his hands behind his head. “You didn’t need my help at all, did ya?”

You felt a needle pinching at your stomach. It had only been recently that you two started going out together, that’s why…

“I should’ve picked up on the clues, though. Tsuzuroon has been casually mentioning you every now and then.” Kazunari’s words calmed down the dark spiral that had begun forming in your head. “He also–”

“Okay,” Tsuzuru’s voice could be heard from the corridor. “You can come now.”

“We’ll leave this convo for another time.” Kazunari winked at you, and you giggled. He had managed to distract you and now you were more relaxed than before. You were glad you had a friend like him.

You quickly followed Tsuzuru to his room, glad that you hadn’t taken off your coat yet. You could see your breath as you crossed the courtyard. He turned around a couple of times while walking you there, and you exchanged smiles. You felt giddy.

“Masumi isn’t here now, so you can relax.” He said while closing the door after you.

You remembered him from the plays.

“He’s away visiting his family for the holidays?” You asked while removing your coat and scarf. Tsuzuru promptly took them from you and placed them on top of his coats on the hanger on his side of the room.

“He’s out with Izumi and some of the other guys that haven’t gone back home.” You started casually looking around the room and walked closer to his desk to see the books that were piling up there. There, something surprised you.

“You printed this picture!” You pointed at the photograph hanging from his wall, among quotes from plays and novels.

It was a picture of you two, smiling bashfully at the camera. It had been the first selfie you had taken together, and it showed. But you adored that picture.

“Yeah,” Tsuzuru bridged the distance between you two. “Omi was going to print some photographs and I asked him to print this one for me.” Tsuzuru stared at the picture in an attempt to calm his nerves. Having you in his room was doing things to him. Then, his eyes accidentally roamed over his shelves. “Oh! I need to give you your gift.” He picked up a package wrapped in gift wrapping from above. “I can’t believe I almost forgot.” He giggled, and you felt the urge to hug him. Even if you hadn’t talked about it, you two had bought a gift for the other. You felt comforted by the connection that action proved.

Tsuzuru offered the gift to you, and you two sat down on his bed. It was heavy and sturdy like a book, and you didn’t waste any time, quickly tearing the paper.

“What!” You gasped without peeling your eyes from the cover. “It’s the book adaptation of that series!” You looked at Tsuzuru, surprise, awe and confusion all mixing on your face.

“You looked so happy talking about that series, that I thought…” He smiled looking into your eyes.

“I love it!” You hugged him impulsively, trying to show your emotions. He hugged you back, the book you were holding with one hand still between you. “Ah! I also have something for you.” You let go of him, put down the book and went to your coat, searching the pockets. “Here.” You walked back to the bed, offering him the small gift.

He smiled widely, unable to contain his joy. When he finally ripped the paper and opened the small box, his smile widened even more.

“Wow, I—” he looked at you, speechless.

“Do you like it?”

“Of course I do! It’s wonderful.” He looked back at the box in his hands, containing the bracelet you had chosen. It was a thin chain with a small metallic quill. “Can you put it on for me?” You took it from the box, and he pulled his sleeve back, offering you his wrist. When you finished tying it for him, he quickly interlaced his fingers with yours, preventing you from pulling away. “Thank you.”

“I’m glad you like it. I thought it could maybe offer you some support while you write.” You squeezed his hand, emphasizing your point. “And I love your gift, I can’t wait to start reading it.”

“I’m glad.” Tsuzuru’s features softened, and you felt his fingertips running over your knuckles. “Although I don’t want you going home any time soon, so that’ll have to wait.” A playful smile appeared on his lips, and you slowly leaned forward until you were only a few inches apart. He also leaned in, and you joined in a sweet peck.

A kiss that was soon interrupted by the loud sound of furniture being dragged around in another room. It startled you and you pulled away. Embarrassed by your reaction, you looked away, trying to hide your expression from Tsuzuru.

“Are you hungry? I can make us something quick to eat.” He left the box and torn wrapping paper to the side and stood up, tugging your hand.

“Oh, I’m fine, thank you.” You looked at him again.

“Let’s get something to drink, then.”

You stood up and made to let go of his hand, but he didn’t. He kept holding your hand while leaving his room, walking down the corridor to the kitchen. It made you nervous, shy and excited all at once, but more than anything it filled your heart with warmth.

“Oh, hello there.” When you reached the kitchen, a voice greeted you.

“Azuma, I thought you said work got busier during this season.” Tsuzuru looked slightly taken aback.

“Is that your way of telling me I’m not welcome?” He giggled, looking at your intertwined hands. “And who is the kindred soul?”

You had seen Azuma before in the Winter Troupe’s plays, but you had never actually spoken to him, so you quickly introduced yourself.

“Nice to meet you. I hope to be seeing you around here more often.” He gave you a smooth smile, and you wondered how many people had succumbed to that charm.

“I can make us some milkshakes if you want?” Tsuzuru let go of your hand and turned around to face you, to gain back some of the privacy that had been lost due to Azuma’s presence.

“I see you’re trying to show off here.” But his presence wasn’t something that could be forgotten so easily.

“Wha—, no, I’m not!” Tsuzuru quickly looked over at you. “Okay, maybe a little bit…” He owned up to it, surprising you.

“Nothing to be ashamed of, Tsuzuru.” He continued teasing, finding enjoyment in seeing how nervous the usually stoic writer could get. “I can also see why this is the first time I’ve met y/n. You don’t want anyone else taking them away from you, huh?”

“Azuma!” Tsuzuru blushed furiously. He felt humiliated and uncool, exactly the opposite of what he wanted to show you. He only dared to look at you for a second, in which meeting your intense gaze didn’t help to calm him down. To try to distract himself, Tsuzuru went to the cupboards and started taking out a couple of mugs. “I can make us some hot chocolate or coffee or something.”

“I’d love a hot chocolate, but it hasn’t been that long since I had lunch,” you hesitated out loud.

“How about making it a milkshake?”

“Make it three,” Azuma quickly added.

“What were you in the kitchen for?” Tsuzuru sighed, suggesting that he should make his own drink, but he still took out another mug from the cupboard.

“You make a great reluctant big brother, Tsuzuru.” Azuma observed him with a placid smile. You decided to move away to not be a bother to Tsuzuru and sat down next to Azuma. “Do you have siblings, y/n?”

That’s how the questions started – where did you met each other, did you see their plays, what was your favourite – while Tsuzuru worked on making the best milkshakes he remembered from one of his part-time jobs. You started feeling comfortable and wondered if there would be more days like this one in the future. Days where you spend time with Tsuzuru at home, and time seems to slow down.

After giving the whipped cream on top the final touch with some ground cinnamon, he handed you the beverages and sat down. You were all savoring your drinks when Azuma decided to stop drinking.

“What do you like about Tsuzuru?”

Sitting beside you, he seemed to choke on the milkshake and coughed a couple of times.

“Enough!” He was still whipping his mouth with a napkin when he reprimanded Azuma.

“Okay, okay, I’m leaving.” He raised his hands in momentary defeat, then took the mug and stood up. “Y/n can tell you alone.” Azuma winked, finally getting out of the kitchen. Tsuzuru sighed, wanting to dig a hole to get inside. First Kazunari and now Azuma… things weren’t going how he would’ve wanted them to. You hadn’t been dating for long, and he worried that he could do something to make you lose interest. He felt extremely clumsy and out of practice – when was the last time he had tried to impress anyone?

Maybe when he had written the first play for Mankai? But what he wanted to show you went far beyond that. He didn’t want you to just think of him as a good enough scriptwriter – he wanted so much more. And it was scary.

You slurped the last drops of your drink and the sound brought Tsuzuru back to reality.

“This was soooo good.” You licked your lips mindlessly, trying to get every last drop of flavor you could. “To be honest, I am impressed.”

He felt a flush of heat travel from his chest to his face. He eyed the hand you had rested on top of the table and moved his hand closer until your pinkies were touching. But before he could do something else, another person entered the kitchen.

“Oh, hello y/n, it’s been a while.” Tsumugi was carrying the watering can in one hand. He needed to use the sink since the hose in the back garden wasn’t working properly at that moment.

“How are the plants doing?” You had spoken to him when Kazunari and Tsuzuru first invited you to the dorms. Kazunari had insisted on giving you a tour of the place, and you had found him gardening.

“They’re doing well, but I see now it’s a shame I didn’t plant any mistletoe,” Tsumugi said while looking between you and Tsuzuru. “Although I am sure you don’t need it.”

That’s all it took for the both of you to get flustered. Tsumugi finished filling the watering can and turned the tap off, seemingly oblivious to the state he was going to leave you in.

“Feel free to visit the garden any time,” he said as a goodbye. When he left, you finally felt you could breathe again. Was it so obvious now that you were dating?

“Sorry about that, they’re all really… an interesting bunch.” Tsuzuru took the chance to take your hand between his.

“Yeah, I kind of had an inkling they’d be like that, Tsuzu.” You saw the worried look in his eyes and tried to reassure him. You were actually having a lot of fun being there with him.

“Hearing you say my name like that… makes me all warm and fuzzy.” The blush that had spread over his cheeks after Tsumugi’s comment intensified now, filling your heart with love.

You leaned your head on Tsuzuru’s shoulder and allowed him to play with the hand he had between his. Meanwhile, you basked in his heat.

Maybe some other resident of Mankai would come soon to interrupt you, but for now, that moment was yours.

I hope you enjoyed this, interactions and constructive feedback are highly appreciated <3

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