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utilitycaster · 3 months

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The narrative of D&D

Fantasy High Junior Year has made its exploration of the tropes, mechanics, and structures of D&D readily apparent, perhaps even more so than the earlier two seasons. This is unsurprising for a show in which the characters are, in-universe, extremely aware of their mechanics and indeed in a high school intended to develop them. And yet, while Brennan Lee Mulligan pokes at these structures, the story still rests squarely within them.

This is not accidental; in longer form narratives (and Fantasy High as an overall story certainly is one, though each individual season exists in a strange no-man's land of campaign length) there is a distinctive pattern to the D&D narrative, one that is outright stated in the player's handbook. D&D is a progressive advancement game; characters grow in power and in sociopolitical import as they level up. They begin, even at level 1, as exceptional people (no commoner stats for them) and are destined by the fact that they are in a D&D game for greatness. There are things D&D supports well; travel, social interaction, one-time skill use, and combat. There are things it does poorly, notably downtime and stories that are not built along the lines of heroic fantasy.

I think this is a value neutral statement, in that I think that trying to avoid playing D&D while playing D&D is a futile exercise; your character will become more powerful while playing it and the only way to avoid gaining this power is to play a different game. I also think that while D&D has the potential to comment on our world from a new perspective, as most speculative fiction does, and is certainly not without flaws, that conversation is one for a later date. The structure exists; like it or not, it exists. There are other games to play that support other stories.

Fantasy High is direct in its engagement: characters are aware of their classes. They learn about the conventions thereof in their high school coursework, and must justify their multiclassing, both with their current level of power in their base class as well as with what they have done (both narrative and mechanical justifications). The antagonists of Junior Year are the Rat Grinders, explicitly commenting on Experience vs. Milestone leveling; several characters provide an eye into such D&D player tropes as min-maxxing and focusing on RP vs only on the game and mechanical elements. The Seven, set in the same world, operates on a similar premise; the party risks being broken up because half are still in high school and they would not survive a split of that level. Adventurers at the Aguefort Academy must adventure, and both the humor and deconstruction come from the juxtaposition of the conventions of D&D with the typical life of a high school student. The characters do level up; they do become more recognizable; they do have to save the world, repeatedly.

A somewhat subtler deconstruction comes in the form of NADDPod's first campaign, or as it was introduced, The Campaign after the Campaign. As envisioned by Brian Murphy (a player in Fantasy High; it is perhaps relevant that the two shows both began production around the same time), the world in which it is set is grappling with the aftermath of the "campaign" of the three legendary heroes Alanis, Thiala, and Ulfgar, who had slain Asmodeus, among other feats. While this ended a war, it set off several crucial events. Most centrally to the story of NADDPod, Thiala, disillusioned with her role as the healer, broke her worship of Pelor and used the heart of Asmodeus to ascend to godhood; she would eventually become the final antagonist of the campaign. However, the death of Asmodeus also set off a power vacuum in Hell. NADDPod's third campaign is set two centuries after the first, and the new legendary heroes (the Band of Boobs of the first campaign) have been dealing with the aftermath of an extraplanar war of the gods; Mothership, the main antagonist, arose in Thiala's wake. This is all typical actions leading to consequences, but the idea that the butterfly that flapped its wings was the resentment of someone having to play the cleric is notable (and is directly contrasted by Emily Axford's Bahumia characters, who openly embrace healing and support casting, breaking Thiala's cycle while cleaning up her mess.) But NADDPod too is heroic fantasy, even with the science fantasy elements present in the second season, and even slots nicely into the PHB tiers.

Critical Role does not, per se, strive to deconstruct in the same way (though Matt Mercer does provide some direct retorts to Forgotten Realms lore, particularly that of drow). But like NADDPod, the consequences of past campaigns influence subsequent ones. Campaign 1 is very easily recognizable as a classic "gain influence and power" story, and while Campaign 2's heroes the Mighty Nein retain a refreshingly low profile throughout the story, it does still progress in a typical way, though in a rather more self-directed manner.

Campaign 3 is interesting, in that it initially deviates from some of the more classic tropes of early D&D, but ultimately succumbs (to its benefit, in my opinion) to the inertia of the heroic fantasy arc. Bells Hells do not work their way up from level 1 or 2 taking on odd jobs; they begin the campaign by joining up with a benevolent patron, and several party members have pre-existing powerful connections. They receive the use of a skyship by episode 22 and level 6 (something even Vox Machina considered having to steal at level 13) and inherit it not long after. And yet: despite this, and a pivotal set piece of the apogee solstice in which a comparatively low level party plays a part among many factions, following a brief split the campaign begins to run on more familiar tracks. For all the early privileges the team enjoyed and the theological debates they engaged in, they ultimately find themselves in a position identical to that of the archetypal Vox Machina: facing an evil wizard who, after a rushed solstice ritual mid-campaign, only partially unsealed a long-imprisoned ancient deity of manipulation and destruction and now wishes to finish the job. One must assume Delilah Briarwood is appreciating the parallels from within Laudna's psyche.

Worlds Beyond Number is a player on the scene to watch out for, especially because Mulligan has shown himself to enjoy playing with these tropes and his players are all immensely knowledgeable and experienced players (and in Aabria Iyengar's case, DMs) themselves. Rather like Bells Hells, two of its three characters are coming in already in storied positions, despite being level 2, and it will be interesting to see if it bucks the trend. I don't think it needs to. I think there's plenty of variety to be had within this subgenre, and I think a quiet pushing at the boundaries is frequently more effective than full-scale subverstion. But should that be the plan, it will take a lot of work; even with immense awareness of the path D&D sets forth it seems DMs - and players - tend to stay on it.

#i gotta make a separate like. website-based blog for shit like this i'm basically writing articles for free (which. they'd still be free)#cr tag #d20 tag #naddpod tag #wbn tag #i'd been thinking of this since fhjy got really into it and some joking around about c1 vs. c3 parallels motivated me to finally write it #anyway! hope you like it.#also i killed a very hilarious darling here expect a shitpost soon probably

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its-time-to-write · 7 months

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i hold it like a grudge - ch. 1

okayyy so I’m completely done with this fic! I’m editing my posts now, and I’m not sure if it’ll all get done tonight. Definitely tomorrow. Here’s the first chapter, hope you enjoy!

table of contents you have everything (you still want more)

To say you were blindsided would be a gross understatement.

You were metaphorically slapped in the face so hard that you feel like you have a broken neck due to whiplash.

Your boyfriend had been away for the week with his football team, and you hadn’t been able to go with him. So you’d done what any WAG would do and watched the match on his giant telly, all decked out in pale blue.

Life with Jamie Tartt as your boyfriend was great. You’d been dating since secondary school while he was in the academy. It was strange to go from chicken shop dates to meals that cost more than your rent. He’d promised to pay for your uni fees which was a godsend because there was no way you’d be able to afford it on your own. You both had a whole future planned together.

Which is why you’re shocked to see Jamie’s name in the papers, followed by the name Keeley Jones.

And a picture of them kissing.

You aren’t even googling him when you find out. You’re out for groceries of all things, groceries for his welcome-home dinner in a day and a half. His name catches your eye so you stop to smile at him before you realize what you’re looking at.

The world goes fuzzy, your gaze locked on their lips.

In a single moment, your world has been tilted completely on its head.

You find yourself in Jamie’s too-large flat, staring at your phone, willing yourself to press the green call button.

You take a shallow breath and hold the phone up to your ear. It rings once, twice, almost to the point where it’ll go to voicemail, but then you hear Jamie say, “What?”

“What?” you reply, “what do you mean, what? I should be the one asking you that? What the fuck are you doing kissing an instagram model??”

Jamie snorts and says four words that cause your heart to drop like a stone.

“We’re broken up, babe.”

Your breath is coming in too fast and too shallow. “When were you going to tell me that we fucking broke up? And don’t call me babe!” you choke out.

Jamie says, “Thought it were implied,” in a dismissive voice. It’s foreign to you. He’s never spoke to you- to anyone like this before.

“Right, okay, yeah, makes total sense. I find out we’ve broken up after seeing you in the papers with another girl,” you retort.

“Glad it’s finally clicking,” Jamie says. It’s strange how much he can hurt you, even through the phone.

A voice calls him in the background, a voice you presume belongs to Keeley Jones, and then there’s silence. He’s hung up.

You stare at your phone for a long, long time.

—

All you can think about is what you did wrong. You comb Jamie’s flat for anything that belongs to you, shove it into your car, and drive back to your own, too-small too-crowded flat.

You wonder if you were too clingy as you carefully fold up every Man City kit. You think it’s possible you weren’t affectionate enough as you stack every polaroid photo. You wonder if maybe it has to do with your physical appearance as you hunt for scissors and some matches.

You try to make yourself not care as you burn the photos and cut up the shirts.

Your hands linger over a maroon away kit. It was always your favorite, and for a moment you consider keeping it.

Then you remember Jamie saying, glad it’s finally clicking as though you never meant anything, so you grab the scissors and cut it into shreds.

—

Uni is out of the question. There is absolutely no way you’re going to be able to afford it so you start two full-time jobs.

Every day feels like a struggle to breathe. You get out of bed and tell yourself I can do this as you get ready for work and tighten your budget. The drowning feeling never quite goes away, but the months pass all the same.

You’re grateful that although you don’t save a lot of money, you’re able to pay your bills on time. Your flatmates generally leave you alone when you’re home, but you’ve found ice cream in the freezer with your name on it that you know you didn’t buy. They’ll place a blanket over you every time you fall asleep on the couch, and fervently ban all Manchester City merchandise from entering the flat.

Breakthrough comes in the form of a gift.

A literal gift, and one you’re giving, not receiving.

It’s a set of earrings for a friend, hoops with her name set around them. She wears them to work exactly once, and the next thing you know, orders are pouring in.

It’s enough that you quit one job, then the next, then hire both flatmates to help you in the evenings. Pretty soon, there’s an opportunity for you to open a small shop in a part of London. You get a larger flat (all to yourself!) and before long, Manchester blue no longer haunts you.

—

The bell above the door rings, signifying a customer.

“Hi, you okay?” you say from behind the counter. You turn around and lock eyes with Keeley Jones, followed by Jamie Tartt.

Just breathe.

Jamie looks spooked, well, he looks spooked to you. Not sure if anyone else would know his expressions well enough to catch the shock cross his face. Keeley smiles brightly, and you can see that same adoring look you used to have. Maybe a little muted, she’s more mature than you were, so she probably understands her role in this relationship. Enjoy it while you can, get out before it hurts.

You can’t think about it now so before Jamie can ruin anything more you decide to play dumb and fucking introduce yourself as though your ex-boyfriend and the woman he shagged behind your back aren’t in your safe space that you created to escape him.

Keeley didn’t know, you remind yourself, except at this point it’s more of a prayer of faith hingeing on Jamie’s apparent selfish nature. There’s a good chance he didn’t mention you, a far cry from the boy who used to follow you grocery shopping because he liked to be with you (and so he could slip his card in the register before you had a chance to protest).

“Hi, I’m Keeley,” she says with a smile. “This one’s Jamie, but you’ll be hearing more about him I’m sure. He’s a footballer on loan to AFC Richmond, and he’s fucking brilliant on the pitch.”

You copy her smile. “How can I help you?”

“I saw your earrings on instagram, and I absolutely had to get some. Then when we moved here, I wanted to see your shop! And this one said he’d get them for me, isn’t that sweet?”

Keeley wraps herself around Jamie’s arm, oblivious to the way he can’t figure out how to react.

He settles on a nod and a grunt, so you pull out different hoop sizes and letter fonts, and get to work.

She settles on gold, with tiny letters spelling Keeley.

“They’ll be ready for pickup in three days,” you say, ushering them out the door.

Keeley hasn’t stopped smiling this whole time and in contrast, Jamie hasn’t stopped frowning, but they’ve made their purchase and are headed down the street.

The moment they’re well and truly gone, you pull out your phone and Google, Jamie Tartt richmond. The top results are all about his loan from City to AFC Richmond, your Richmond; your escape is no longer an escape. It’s only a matter of time before his face is plastered all around town. The thought of it turns your stomach.

But there’s no way you’ll ever see him.

So you get through your day like normal, head back home, and play too-loud music through your headphones as you cook dinner. By the time it’s ready, you’re dancing to Islands in the Stream with all worries about Jamie firmly banished from your mind.

table of contents

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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delcakoo · 1 year

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i choose you! ˚ᘒ ˖˚𓈒 n.rk

SUMMARY ! at last, your journey begins on route 1 with your first pokemon by your side.. and your pesky neighbor who somehow angers a flock of pidgeys enough to chase the both of you back to where you started. but don’t worry, riki will be there to protect you.. probably!

PAIRING ! pokemontrainer!niki x gn!reader

WC ! 3.7k

GENRE ! pokemon au (dont need to know that much to understand) frenemies to lovers, fluff <3

WARNINGS ! riki’s nickname for you is dummy, mentions of scraped knews/elbows, bandaged wounds, blood, being attacked by birds

a/n: this has been in my drafts since january cuz i only wrote it for the pokemon nostalgia and im kinda iffy abt it.. i tried to clean it up tho so hope u all enjoy!

ding dong! ding dong! dingdongdingdongdingdongdingdo—

you practically yank your front door off the wall in vexation, the ringing in your ears dissipating the moment your annoying neighbour comes into view. he has a cheeky grin plastered across his pale face as his finger drops from your doorbell, shoving into his short’s pockets mischievously.

he tilts his head, and his black wavy hair bounces along animatedly. “ready to go, dummy?”

you’ve had the misfortune (or fortune) of being glued to nishimura riki’s side since birth.

you were the same age, yet it felt more like you were babysitting than hanging out with a friend during most of the time spent with him. your neighbor was the definition of a dork; an impulsive idiot with no sense of limits or rules that you’d constantly have to take control of before he did something stupid (though, there was no harm in letting it happen and relishing in the entertainment every so often). in fact, you could dare him to lick the sidewalk in exchange for a single oran berry, and he’d do it without hesitation.

reckless or not, you couldn’t deny your vast soft spot for the raven haired boy, considering he’s grown up with you and all.

but today, riki’s grin and visible excitement shockingly held a valid reason.

“hell yeah,” you reply with a smirk, gripping your backpack tighter once you descend down the front porch.

riki’s arm finds its way around your shoulder, smile growing as he stares down at you. “can you believe it, y/n? today’s really the day.”

you chuckle and nod. “yup, all those years at the academy will finally pay off.”

at least, it would for you; it was a miracle riki even graduated, noting that he still didn’t even know what would beat a dark type pokemon if one were to jump in front of him now.

“wonder what type of pokemon our starters will be,” he ponders. “i hope mine’s a dragon!”

“eh.. i think a bug type suits you better.”

in reply, he violently pinches your arm. “ay, ‘bet you’ll get a poison type with that attitude.”

while the bantering continues, the sliding door to your town’s lab eventually parts for the both of you. the high ceiling building was filled with all sorts of strange machines and metal tubes, and it was rather quiet besides the occasional sounds of pokemon chirping and playing in the distance. you vageuly remember being here once before on a field trip, as well as the memory of riki almost releasing a wild pokemon from it’s enclosure and getting your whole academy banned.

ah, good times.

as you trail inside, you feel something enclosed around your hand and carefully lace through your fingers. you glance down to investigate, brows furrowing at the sight of riki’s hand clasping yours tightly.

“..what are you doing?” you mutter with warm cheeks.

he shrugs. “this is a big moment, so i felt like holding your hand.” riki didn’t seem phased nor flustered at all, swinging your intertwined hands back and forth. it wasn’t too surprising for him to initiate physical touch, yet for whatever reason something as simple as hand holding was making a strange feeling erupt in your stomach.

though before you could question him further, a feeble voice echoed blaringly through the laboratory. “my my, what do we have here?”

and in walks who you remember as professor bonsai, icy white lab coat nearly touching the ground as her frail fingers reach up to adjust her green glasses. you recall the old woman visiting the academy once or twice, and it was easy to tell she knew a whole lot more about pokemon than any of your teachers or trainers just by how she spoke of them.

to his disappointment, you quickly rip your hand from your neighbour’s, bowing politely. “professor bonsai, it’s an honor!” you exclaim with enthusiasm. riki quickly bows too, following you closely.

the woman’s lips raise, scanning you up and down. “ah, i remember you. y/n, correct?” you quickly nod, smiling. when the professor looks over to riki, her welcoming expression drops, wrinkles deepening unpleasantly. “and you..”

riki’s eyes widened, scratching his neck nervously. he seems to have made a bad first impression with the woman in the past, and you couldn’t say you were surprised in the slightest. “uh, hi again.. professor.”

“lord arceus.. ” she mumbles disapprovingly before clearing her throat. “alright then, both of you this way.”

with that, the old lady turns, walking away and leaving you and riki to exchange worried glances.

“she definitely hates me,” riki whispers as you follow her through the lab.

you raise a judging brow, pinching his side. “probably for good reason. i bet you played some stupid prank on her at the academy or something.”

comically, his eyes widen. “how’d you know?”

as you open your mouth to reply with ‘because you’re riki’, the professor stops, gesturing to a small table under a bright light behind her.

“here we are, i assume you’ve already had the lecture of what it means to have your first pokemon?”

you nod, while riki watches dumbly. “yes professor.”

“then, you may pick one,” she states.

instantly, you freeze up.

there lay three shining red pokeballs, each in their own little capsules on display to the two of you.

that’s when it hit you that this was fully happening. the moment you’ve been waiting for since your first day at the academy; the day you’d get your first pokemon — your partner for life.

you glance over at riki.

when it came to your childhood friend, it felt like you already had a partner for life, as cheesy as it sounded.

you shake your head, riki would tease the hell out of me if i said that out loud.

while you were in deep thought, riki had already walked closer to the three mystery pokeballs, ever so carefully grabbing the middle one.

he glances over to the professor, who’s studying his actions sternly. “do i just- can i..?”

“go ahead,” she deadpans.

you watch in awe as riki throws the pokeball in front of him, red light flowing out of it before a small, turtle like creature with a single sapling coming out of its head plops onto the ground. it was mostly a pale green with a hint of yellow on it’s chin and feet, and a small brown shell adorned it’s smooth back.

“oh my god, it’s so cute,” you squeak in awe, rushing over to pet the pokemon’s shell. riki grins, quickly kneeling next to you to do the same. you fail to notice how every so often, his gaze bounces over to thoroughly take in your beaming expression rather than the little creature before him.

“that one is turtwig,” professor bonsai informs. “he’s a grass type, and the shell on his back is made from soil, which hardens when he drinks water.”

when riki scratches under turtwig’s neck, the creature chirps in delight, leaning into his touch more than yours. “guess i’ll have to buy lots of water,” riki declares, “i’ll choose him.”

without another moment of hesitation, he picks up the small pokemon, holding it in his arms happily. turtwig wiggles around, licking riki’s fingers and making the boy giggle cutely.

you gaze at them in desire, impatience rushing through you. riki observes as you pace over to the remaining two pokeballs, hesitantly taking the left one. the ball feels stable in your grasp, so shiny that you could make out your reflection reflecting onto the red lid. “pick a good one, dummy,” he cheers you on cheekily.

you roll your eyes in fake annoyance, still smirking as you gently throw the ball before you. rather unceremoniously, a small blue penguin flops out of the ball, face planting right onto the hard floor with an ugly chirp.

professor bonsai sighs, and riki bursts into a mean cackle. meanwhile you gasp, rushing over to help the pokemon up and into your embrace. “poor thing, are you okay? i’m sorry, i must’ve thrown it too hard.”

in response, the penguin puffs out its chest stubbornly, yet its expression screams that it’s embarrassed. the creature’s tiny yellow beak was slightly in a pout, and it took everything in you to not boop it fondly.

professor bonsai rubs her forehead. “that’s piplup, her species is rather clumsy yet very prideful. she has a hard time accepting food from humans and bonding with trainers that try to get close to her — and as you can see, she puffs out her chest whenever she falls down, which is quite often due to her poor walking abilities.”

contrary to the woman’s words, piplup seemed to enjoy your presence, peering up at you in satisfaction as you rubbed her tummy. however, when riki walks over to pet her as well, there was nothing to prepare him for when she decides to rudely peck his hand.

riki jumps back, nearly dropping turtwig. “ow!” he whines, and you swear you see the professor snicker proudly in the background.

“that’s what you get for laughing at her,” you declare, sticking your tongue out teasingly. piplup, who was now completely relaxed in your hold, sticks her small tongue out as well, making you burst into laughter. “if it’s okay, i’ll gladly take her, professor.”

she nods, nudging her glasses up with the tip of her finger. “very well then. do you both know where to go from here?”

“yeah,” “no,” you and riki blurt in sync.

unsurprised, you roll your eyes. “don’t worry, i have him under control.” with piplup sitting carefully on your shoulder, you grab riki’s forearm, quickly leading him out. “thank you professor, we’ll be sure to repay you!”

———

“i wanna be the very best, that no one ever was! dun dun du-dun, to catch them is my real test, to train th—ow!” riki pauses his serenading, cradling the arm that you’d pinched rudely.

“shut up, i’m trying to read this useless piece of shit,” you bark. “seriously who drew this thing? even you could make a better map than this!”

it’s quiet for a moment as the four of you continue wandering to who knows where, piplup fast asleep on your shoulder while riki and turtwig searched around cluelessly. there were freakishly large trees surrounding every mile of land, and lots of patches with wild grass that you both made sure to steer clear of; the last thing you needed was to fight wild pokemon before you could even buy pokeballs at the next town.

originally, you suspected that going from the lab to route one would be a piece of cake, but clearly not everything could go perfect in a day. unless you were reading it wrong (which you probably were), your map sent you in repetitive circles — and of course, the boy next to you didn’t provide much support.

abruptly, turtwig lets out a small chirp of his name minutes later, gesturing backwards with a prompt nod. riki follows his pokemon’s guide, eyes widening a fraction. “hey dummy, we’re looking for route one.. right?” he suddenly inquires, tapping your shoulder.

you roll your eyes, “yes, i told you that like an hour ago—“ you finally look up from your map and follow the boy’s gaze, jaw hanging off your face when you see a giant, obnoxious white sign reading ‘route 1’ on it.

you feel your eye twitch in annoyance. you were supposed to be on map duty while he kept an eye out for the destinations you read off. “you’ve got to be kidding me! riki, you were supposed to be looking for that humongous thing right in the middle of the forest for the past hour, are you blind?”

“i don’t know, turtwig didn’t see it either! i was just.. excited,” he defends.

how on earth am i supposed to survive with this idiot? you huff, folding up the map and throwing it into your backpack’s side pocket. next to you, riki has a small, discouraged pout on his lips, walking with his head slightly down.

his posture makes your eyes soften, guilt rushing through you as you reach up to pat his shoulder gently. “it’s okay, ki. sorry for yelling,” you apologise quietly.

riki kicks a rock into the air out of impulse, and you watch as it rockets all the way into a near patch of grass with no mercy. “nah, i deserved it anyway.”

then, an angry squak rips from the grass in front of you, right where riki had booted that stone.

you grip his shoulder in concentration, patting piplup awake with your other hand. “riki..”

“no y/n, seriously,” he insists, “i really do need to start focusing. we’ve only just left and..”

while he blabbers, you’re busy witnessing a raging flock of pidgeys fly up from the tall grass, furiously glaring down at the two of you.

“riki!” you holler, yanking him by his backpack. piplup is chirping frantically, holding on tightly as you grab riki’s hand and pull him behind while you sprint for your life.

the wavy haired boy has barely processed anything; nearly tripping on his own sneakers. when he looks back and realises the situation, riki’s eyes double in size comically. one pidgey hurls a small whirlwind right at him, and he narrowly dodges out of the way milliseconds prior with the help of turtwig’s warning chirp. “holy shit! what the hell do those ugly pigeons want!?”

“that rock you kicked must’ve hit one of them!” you scream your reply, anxiously feeling the birds getting closer. they were all scowling aggressively, clearly not up to discuss or show mercy.

just as you prepare to speed up even more, you feel the warmth of your neighbour’s hand get pulled away as a strong, angry gust yanks you away and down to the ground, piplup rolling off your back in the process and leaving riki screeching to a halt. your elbows and knees burn from scraping against the dirt, and the spinning in your head emits a groan from your lips.

nonetheless, you turn yourself onto your back in determination, sitting up on your palms again achingly. “get out of here!” you order riki, “me and piplup can deal with it.” the blue penguin chirps in agreement as she gets up herself, stretching her tiny arms and puffing up her chest again in an attempt of intimidation.

the pidgeys have almost caught up to the both of you, yet riki refrained from standing down; instead rushing to stand in front of you defensively. “no y/n, i have to do something helpful today,” he snaps. “turtwig, use razor leaf!”

riki spoke confidently as if he’s done this a million times before, yet it wouldn’t be a surprise to anyone that this encounter was both of your first ever real battles.

your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets at his command. “what— but— riki no! grass types are unaffective against flying types, we learned this in—“

it was too late — turtwig had already jumped in front of you in obedience to his owner, throwing an attack at the brown creatures with an angry howl.

but just as you’d explained, the normally sharp leaves had barely any effect on the pidgeys, only infuriating them further as they grouped together to summon another giant whirlwind at you.

right as the tornado spins towards you, you feel riki rush over and wrap his body around you protectively, shielding you for whatever’s to come. his arms felt surprisingly sturdy and warm, opposing the powerful body of wind firing your way.

at the same time, a new voice breaks the silence of your accepted defeat. “watch out, you two!”

you feel riki squeeze you tighter just before everything turns black.

———

it takes you a couple tries until your eyes fully open. the peaceful silence keeps you calm as you slowly but surely wake up, taking in the white hospital room accompanied with a quiet beep of a monitor next to you.

at your awakening, piplup coos in greeting from the pillow beside you. “hey cutie,” you greet with a smile, patting your pokemon’s head affectionately.

“oh, thought you were talking to me.”

you quickly turn over to your other side to see a dishevelled riki in a bed of his own, raven hair sticking up in all directions and a blue hospital gown adorning his figure. he has a couple bandages wrapped around his arms, and your chest tightens when you see slight hints of blood seeping through then.

at his words, you sigh. it amazed you how your neighbour managed to joke around even in a situation like this. “how’re you feeling?” you ask with worry.

riki looks away, staring up at the white ceiling emotionlessly. “useless, stupid, a failure.” you frown further. “besides that, just peachy.”

“it was just a mistake—“

“i’ve made enough of those, don’t you think?” he snaps, now completely turned on his other side to avoid eye contact. “and that time it wasn’t just another fuck up, y/n. you could’ve got hurt.”

your brows furrow, mind flashing back to how hard riki tried to protect you throughout the entire attack, no matter if he was endangered in the process. “and what about you, ki? sure, you messed up, but instead of running away like some people would, you tried your hardest to fix it and take responsibility.” the boy remains motionless, breathing slowly against his white pillow. “even when those pidgey’s nearly swept us off into a damn tornado, you still tried to protect me instead of yourself for some stupid reason.”

he scoffs. “c’mon y/n, you know damn well what that reason is.”

“what? no i d—“

“i care about you, like, a lot. i fucking like you, dummy.” at last, riki sits back up to face you, casually smoothing his hair down as if he’d just commented on the weather or what he had for breakfast. the boy scoffs as you freeze, rendered speechless with your lips parted dumbly. “geez, you’re acting like this is new information,” he deadpans.

in his head, you’d always known of his little-not-so-little crush, but just decided to stay quiet in hopes of not breaking his heart — which he secretly appreciated, even if it was the complete wrong approach to take.

meanwhile, you were spiralling. riki, as in nishimura riki — your idiotic neighbour, lifelong childhood friend, the boy who didn’t know that grass pokemon are useless against flying ones — liked you?

suddenly, you feel a demanding peck on your arm, which happens to be piplup sending you a ‘stop sitting there uselessly before something flies into your mouth’ glare.

you gulp, making hesitant eye contact with him. “i- i really didn’t know, how- when?” you exclaim desperately.

before your answers could be retrieved, the hospital room’s door is pulled open, revealing a handsome young male with jet black hair and sunglasses. a varsity jacket covers his built figure, along with a navy backpack thrown over his left shoulder. his features and demeanour were all extremely sharp and intimidating, which you suppose matches the charmeleon that follows close behind him.

the boy removes his eyewear, surveying you up and down before doing the same to riki and releasing an amused chuckle. “finally. you newbies were out all night.”

riki grunts. “who are you?”

“call me jay, the one who saved your asses.” he explains, leaning up against the wall with crossed arms. “which reminds me, you little dorks owe me big time. took me and my buddy here lot’s of energy turning those pidgeys into dinner.” his tone was too difficult to read to assume he was kidding around, no matter how aggressively charmeleon growled in agreement.

you and riki shared a disbelieving look while jay lets out a yawn, completely unaffected by your lack of response. “y’know, i wouldn’t mind a cash reward too.”

“sorry for the trouble, and thank you,” you gulp. “i had some in my bag i think, you can—“

another round of laughter cuts you off. “i’m playing with you guys, it’s all good. how about you repay me by accepting the poor guy’s confession? i heard there’s a great first date spot up in sandgem town.” riki’s eyes widen at that, an embarrassing tint of red reaching his ears at the idea of the older male listening in on the past few minutes.

relievingly, a doctor shows up moments later. “sir, i’m sorry to interrupt, but we need to check on these patients in a minute.”

before his fortunate departure, jay sends one more glance between the both of you, winking at riki and leaving a teasing salute behind.

it was awkwardly silent once he was gone.

until once again, piplup delivers a gentle but demanding peck to your arm, snapping you out of your daze. you swallow in determination, attempting to build your confidence as you sit further up in bed. “riki, i—“

“it’s okay,” the male swiftly intervenes, “you don’t have to say anything, i already know you don’t—“

“riki!”

he flinches slightly at your raise in volume, sending you a bewildered glare. “what?!”

“geez, i like you too, idiot.” you get a blank stare in response for a good minute, which only comes to an end once a proud, approving chirp from piplup snaps him out of it. riki swallows, clearly not prepared for such an outcome judging by his hands that fidget with each other endearingly.

“oh,” he replies uselessly, ignoring the headbutt turtwig punishes him with moments after.

of course that was all he had to say.

you roll your eyes, hopping off your bed to begin searching through your backpack. it’d be better to simply change the subject if he’s going to react like this, isn’t it?

“jay mentioned something about sandgem being the next town, and that only means one thing. we’re all the way back in twinleaf. so i guess we’ll have to—“ when you look up from the map, you freeze at the view of riki standing in front of you, holding a look in his eye that differs from any one that he’s given you previously. he reaches for the map and places it gently on the bed, taking another step closer to your figure.

your breath immediately hitches. despite the messiest bed-head imaginable, bloody bandages, and his outfit being nothing but an unappealing hospital gown, your best friend never failed to look good, and it was about time you pointed it out. “y/n, do you mean it?”

you didn’t need to ask to understand what he meant. “yeah.. do you?”

before you knew it, your jaw was being cupped ever so softly by his palm, and when you didn’t reject his touch, riki leaned down to connect his lips with yours. it wasn’t rushed or frantic — no, your reckless best friend managed to kiss you so gently, you think he’s imagining you poof-ing into the thin air if he moved any rougher. his other hand attempts to bring you closer by the waist, but the action only results in a pained hiss due to the bandage-clad injuries decorating his skin.

pulling away reluctantly, you reach up to squeeze his shoulder while desperately attempting to hide your giddy smile. “y’know, i always imagined you’d be a messy kisser.”

riki smirks. “i can be if you want me to, dummy.”

at the sound of his nickname that you’ve annoyingly got accustomed to, you pout. “you’re really still gonna call me that?”

his lips press against yours once more, effectively shooing your pout away. “of course, you think being your boyfriend would make me change or something?”

huffing, you reach down to put the map back into your backpack, accepting defeat. “whatever, we should get out of here before the doctors come.”

“okay.. wait,” riki’s eyes brighten mischievously, immediately sending a worried expression to your face. “so.. you’ve imagined kissing me?”

shit.

“…piplup, use water gun.”

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kryptonitejelly · 2 years

Text

Flyboy (Part 5) | Jake Seresin x Reader Top Gun: Maverick - Jake Seresin x Reader Genre: romance; fluff; angst; best friends to lovers Warnings: tw: violence; tw: being hit on; tw: unwanted physical advances from some creep tw: suggestiveness (no outright smut, but nudity, touching, ass squeezing, etc - MINORS DNI) general hangman being hangman; sexual tension; general cursing; will contain mentions of a break up / previous relationship; general use of pet names; fem!reader; pining; general naval / flying inaccuracies. Length: Mini-series, chaptered - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Epilogue

Summary: Jake gets called back to TOPGUN the same time you’ve been granted a sabbatical from work. He invites you, his purely platonic best friend of years, to live with him for 6 months and you accept. Just two best friends kicking it back for 6 months in San Diego, Fightertown USA, right?

A/N: Aaaaand Part 5, before we move on to the last, and final Part 6 (and of course, the epilogue). I am super excited for Part 6 (because I literally have had the end to Part 6 written out for a while now) and the epilogue, but at the same time, I don’t want Flyboy to end :’( Work is going to be crazy in the coming week, so please be patient with me on Part 6! As usual, thank you all for your likes, comments and reblogs, so many of you are honestly so fucking sweet. I love you all, you guys have really motivated me to finish this mini-series <33 I can’t tell you how much I have enjoyed reading your comments, reblogs (esp the ones where ya’ll QUOTE????)

Also, yes, I know they aren’t a couple (but really, they are) - but just trust me please, it will all go somewhere.

Flyboy | Mini-Series Masterlist

(If you haven’t already seen them - blurbs and asks (one-shots coming soon) are also listed on the Flyboy masterlist!)

Flyboy - Part 5

PART 4 <<

Approximately 5.3k words

It is the loud ringing of an alarm, the persistent noise growing louder by the second, that pulls you from your sleep. As your mind adjusts to being awake, you recognise the alarm as Jake’s. You typically don’t wake up with Jake’s alarm, because unlike today, he usually manages to get to it immediately after the first ring.

You feel a dip in the mattress and hear a faint clatter as he shifts to swipe his phone off the bedside table. Jake silences the alarm, and you hear a quiet, barely audible sigh from him. The mattress dips for a second time as he arches his back to stretch himself out. The faint rustling of sheets follow and the trickle of cool air under the covers and the loss of warmth beside you tells you that he is about to slip out of bed for the day.

You don’t open your eyes, mind still hazed from sleep, but reach out blindly, fingers managing to curl around his forearm. You feel the muscles in his forearm flex in surprise as a response. Jake is not entirely sure if you are awake, or if this is a reflex of yours while you are asleep, and you feel the fingers from his other arm over yours, attempting to gentle uncurl your fingers from his arm.

“Don’t go.” You mumble without opening your eyes, voice soft, foggy from being half awake, but a clear indication to him that you are indeed not fully asleep. It earns you the quiet rumble of a chuckle, and fingers which skim across your face brushing hair back behind your ears as a thumb runs across your cheekbone.

“Go back to sleep.” His voice, coated with his own haze of sleep, is deeper than usual.

Jake stills, feeling your fingers loosen their hold against his arm, and your arm droop back onto the bed. He hears your breathing settle back into a steady pattern and slowly, silently, extracts himself while biting back another sigh, his second of the morning. The Navy had made Jake a morning person and waking up had not been an issue for him for years; since he had been in the Naval Academy, but the past three weeks of waking up to you had him strangely reluctant to leave you in the mornings, struggling to start his day.

Jake flicks the light switch to the bathroom on before cracking open the door. He turns, to glance back at the unmoving heap in his bed which the sliver of light from the bathroom falls on, hidden by the covers and existing within the ridiculous heap of pillows that you had moved from your bed to his, and slips into the bathroom to face his own reflection in the mirror, smiling back at him.

You wake up to a barrage of notifications on your phone.

Coyote: Why….

Fanboy: It was supposed to be fried chicken Friday :-( Fitch says to tell you he is sulking.

Rooster: Hangman told us to order chicken. It isn’t the same.

Bob: Have fun at dinner!

Payback: I’m sulking.

Tash: Dear lord, I have never seen a bunch of grown men so depressed over chicken.

Bob: But can we please have fried chicken Friday next week?

Tash: Who are you and Hangman meeting for dinner? He refuses to tell. Also, are we are still on for the beach tomorrow?

Rooster: Can we come for dinner?

Coyote: Consider my heart broken.

You find yourself equal parts amused and confused as you scroll through the individual notifications from each person. You had made fried chicken once in the almost 3 months since the group of you had been here, following the recipe you had learnt from Jake’s mother years ago during a break when you were both home from college, and it had the group floored. They had begged and wheedled for another round, which you had been reluctant to give in to, because the clean up from deep frying was always horrendous. However, after weeks of persistent pleading, you had finally succumbed and today had been designated as the long awaited fried chicken Friday.

Locating Jake’s name, you shoot off a text while still lying in bed.

Is fried chicken Friday cancelled?

Jake’s response is immediate.

J: Yes. I’m taking you out for dinner.

His response makes you smile, your heart flipping in your chest. Neither you nor Jake had discussed, or spoken more about what you both were since the beach football day, but unlike the build up between Annie’s wedding and that one fateful day, there was no longer a stretched out, building tension between you both. Instead, what existed was a mutual understanding which you both felt. You were his, and he was, undoubtedly yours. What you had both agreed on however, in words, was maintaining, or trying to maintain, the status quo with the people around you - it wasn’t hiding, just keeping what was yours, yours for a little longer.

You know that peanuts and beers at The Hard Deck does not count as dinner.

You send off your reply as a joke, only to have your phone buzz in response, Jake’s face flashing across your home screen.

“What kind of heathen do you think I am.” His voice comes across the line in an amused drawl and you can hear the sound of voices behind him fade as he walks away to find some semblance of privacy.

“The kind that brings a girl for peanuts and beers and calls it dinner.”

It earns you a bark of laughter, and you can almost picture the corners of his eyes creasing in amusement.

“I’ll be back at 6.30.”

“I’ll bring a bag for the shells.” You say, keeping your voice impassive. You can’t see across the phone line, but it makes Jake grin on the other end before he drops his voice.

“Darlin, I guarantee you that if any, you’ll only be having one type of nuts.”

You can hear the smirk tilting his lips even through the phone. It is clear that it is a joke, but you groan loudly at the incredibly bad sexualised innuendo, while making a face which Jake can hear through the line.

“God, you’re awful.” Your response only earns you a guffaw from him which rings loud and clear over the phone.

You find yourself sitting on your bed, covers intact, but devoid of any pillows, body wrapped in a towel, eyes staring into our open closet. You had moved yourself, all your pillows and a choice number of toiletries to Jake’s room and bathroom, but had kept the rest of your belongings, including your clothes, in your original room.

“Do I wear jeans?” You call out loudly, hoping that your voice manages to travel out of the door that is ajar, and down the hallway and to Jake, as you slide off the bed into a stand, to rifle through the garments hanging in your closet.

“Wear whatever you want.” You hear Jake’s voice call back and you can’t help but roll your eyes lightly.

“Do I wear a dress?” You try again, ignoring his answer. He hadn’t told you where you were both going, and you were probing, trying to get a sense of what would be an appropriate dress code. You don’t hear a response as you flick through the hangers, your mind focused on the rustle of fabric and scrape of hanger hooks against the metal pole in the closet.

“You could wear a potato sack, I’ll still take you out.” The sound of Jake’s voice in your ear, the feel of lips against your earlobe and the weight of his hands sneaking around your waist to pull you flush against his body causes you to jump in surprise.

“Are you trying to kill me.” You puff out, attempting to adopt a affronted tone, but your body betrays your words as you relax into his hold.

“Kill you?” Jake asks, in between trailing kisses down the column of your neck, and onto your bare shoulder. “Never.”

It had come as no surprise to you, because Jake had always been comfortable with physical touch with you even as friends, but being with Jake had showed you a whole new side to him, and also to himself. Whether it was running his fingers through your hair while you watched a show together, tugging you towards him before he fell asleep, having his lips on some part of you every chance his got, or subtly placing his hand on your thigh under the table whenever you were together with other people in a group - you (and he himself), had come to realise that Jake always wanted some part of you against him.

You feel his hand work his way in between the fold of your towel, dipping behind the material to come to rest on the skin of your stomach.

“Jake,” you warn, and you can feel his smile against your shoulder as his lips continue against your skin.

“What?” He asks innocently, but lets his hand dip down, grazing skin right above the waistband of your underwear. You feel his thumb swipe lazily along the front of your underwear and you shake your head slightly. Two could play at that game.

“Do that,” you say and twist in his arms. It forces him to move his head up, allowing you to plant your lips at the base of his neck to suck lightly at his skin, “and we won’t make dinner.” You tip toe, lips moving higher along his neck, the stretch of your body causing the towel around you to drop, leaving your body bare, and you in nothing but a thong.

The drop of the towel causes him to groan, allowing Jake to catch sight of you, lips against his neck, back bare, ass cheeks standing out against strip of white lace between them, in the dresser mirror across the room. He reaches his hands down, cupping your ass in his hands, as he allows your lips to continue their work against his neck, as your fingers slide along the inner waistband of his jeans.

“Keeping doing that,” he breathes out, voice slightly rough from the feeling of your lips on his neck, bare breasts, nipples hard and pressing against him, “and we definitely won’t make dinner.” He squeezes your ass cheeks in his palms, and you pull your lips away from his neck, letting your hands come to a rest on his chest. Jake looks down to meet your eyes, which are sparkling with a mischief usually seen in his own, before he feels you press a chaste kiss to his jaw.

“Can I get dressed now?” You ask, while reaching up to run a hand through his hair, causing it to fluff up slightly.

“Please.” Jake meets yours lips with his.

“But how could you have not read even one review.” You find yourself grinning from ear to ear as you shake your head ruefully.

“It said washable on the box in the picture,” he shrugs as he squeezes your hand, which he has interlaced with his, lightly as if to punctuate his point. “It also said ages 2 and up.”

“Did she make you buy a new chair?” You glance over at Jake, taking in his side profile, his outfit of a brown bomber jacket, grey tee and dark jeans making the dark blonde of his hair and green of his eyes pop even more than usual.

“She did,” he grimaces, “cost me a bloody fortune.”

“And did she throw the markers away.” You tease to which he nods, his expression as he recounts the whole situation he had been retelling - of him buying his niece ‘washable’ markers, which she had promptly used to decorate Jake’s older sister’s brand new white, designer, armchair - making you chuckle.

Jake had, true to his word, driven you both to the main city area, and brought you out for dinner. It had, undoubtedly been a nice change of pace, away from the group of aviators, and being amongst complete strangers which had allowed you both to just be yourselves, together. It had given you the freedom to tuck yourself under his arm and slide your hand into his back pocket while waiting for your table at the restaurant, allowed him the liberty to slide his fingers together with yours as you walked down the street, and raised the opportunity for him to freely press numerous kisses to your temple, forehead, lips and jaw in public over the course of the evening. The conversation between you both was the same as it had always been, circling everything and anything. Being together in other ways hadn’t changed that.

“Immediately,” he responds. You open your mouth to speak, when a tap on your shoulder interrupts.

“Excuse me, I was wondering if you both could help me and my husband with a picture?”

You both turn to find yourselves face to face with an older couple on their 50’s.

“Sure,” you respond and Jake lets go of your hand as you receive the phone from the lady. “Just against there?” You point towards her husband, who is standing in front of a small restaurant that looks old, but quaintly so.

“That would be great,” she flashes you a wide smile, before hurrying across to come to a stand beside her husband. You wait for them to position themselves, she sliding her arm around her husband’s waist, and he, his arm around her shoulders, their heads both tilted together. You raise her phone, with a count, and snap a series of photos, Jake standing behind you, his hand positioned lightly against the small of your back.

“All done,” you call out, and the older couple walks towards you. You hand her back her phone, allowing them the time to flip through the pictures, ensuring that they are satisfied.

“They are fantastic, thank you.” The couple beams at you both.

“Special day?” Jake asks, conversationally, and the older man nods.

“It’s our 30th anniversary,” he says, and throws a fond look which his wife meets with equal emotion, “we met here,” he gestures behind towards the restaurant, “30 years ago.”

“That’s impressive,” Jake returns, his words referencing to both the length of their relationship, as well as the restaurant that has remained standing, as both your gazes dart towards the restaurant before going back to the older couple.

“Well,” the older lady laughs, as she tucks her phone back into her bag, before sliding her arm through the nook of her husband’s elbow. “I’m sure you and your wife will make it to 30 years as well.”

She winks, and you feel your face heat. You open your mouth to correct her, only to find Jake sliding his hand back into yours. You turn your head towards him, only to find a smile on his lips.

“M’am,” he drawls, tipping his head at the older lady “I can’t wait.” Jake presses the back of your hand to his lips, not bothering to correct her, before throwing a glance at you, and your heart fills with a warmth, while you meet his glance in a curious wonderment. You hadn’t had any doubt that what was between you and Jake, what this was, was serious, real, despite neither of you having voiced it out - but hearing him say it out loud, not even directly, and so casually as if it were a second nature to him, had your heart doing olympic level somersaults in your chest and your brain turning into mush. You are pretty sure you’ve forgotten how to speak.

Jake feels yours eyes focused on him as he drives you both back home. He knows that you think you are being subtle about it, but given that you are lost in your thoughts, you most certainly are not.

“Sweetheart,” he says conversationally, pulling you gently out of your thoughts, “it’s rude to stare.” He reaches over with his right hand to gently squeeze your jean clad thigh, keeping his left hand and gaze on the road.

“When?” You ask him, while simultaneously letting your left hand fall onto his right. Jake flips his palm skywards, catching your fingers in his larger ones, his thumb stroking the back of your fingers lightly.

Jake knows what you are asking even without you having to use too many words; when did your feelings begin?

“Astutely, 6 months before your break up with Dan,” he starts, thumb still stroking against against the back of your fingers as he pauses, “less so since you told me you had started seeing him.” Jake turns to glance at you, as he comes to a stop at a red light. “Maybe, unknowingly, sometime around the last year of high school.”

His confession hits you hard, catches you by surprise, and Jake feels your shock through the grip of your fingers around his. He squeezes back instinctively, offering your reassurance, focusing his gaze on the front of the road as the light flashes back to green.

You stay silent, and he lets you, until the car rolls to a stop in front of another red.

“First year of college, Christmas break.” You say softly, and it’s Jake’s turn to stare at you, dumbfounded, and in complete surprise, his fingers falling lax against your hand. It’s your turn to squeeze his hand, holding it tight in yours.

He recovers, glancing at the rear review mirror, noting that there are no cars, before shifting the car’s gear into park, and jabbing on the hazard light. Jake reaches over the center console, his right hand firm, but gentle, cupping the side of your face and pulling you to him. He stares deep into your eyes, your noses bumping against each other, before he captures your lips with his. This kiss is deep, bruising, but unhurried, and you let him lead you, a sense of calm and peace washing over the both of you, the same question in his mind, mirrored in yours - why the hell, did you both wait so long?

“I’m leaving,” you call out, while pulling a chilled bottle of water from the fridge and throwing it into the bag you have slung over your shoulder. You hear the beep of a car horn and chime of your phone, signalling Phoenix's arrival to pick you up.

You are beside the door, hand on the frame, tugging on your sandals when you feel Jake’s hand on your elbow, tugging you around. He smells like a combination of aftershave and soap.

“Don’t burn,” he orders you, as he brushes his lips against yours in a quick kiss.

“You’re bossy,” you say, as you run a hand through his hair, which is still half damp from his shower. You are about to reach up to kiss again him, when Phoenix beeps the horn again, this time longer, and louder.

“Patience is not her strong suit.” Jake says, and you see him roll his eyes. You unlock the door and push down on the handle, stepping out into the sun, hand raised in a wave towards Tash whose hand is hovering above the horn, ready to beep it again.

“I’ll see you at The Hard Deck tonight. Have fun at golf with Javy and Rooster!” You call over your shoulder, managing to catch him shaking his head openly at Tash, judgement on his face. It earns him another beep of her horn, and you turn towards Tash just in time to see her flip Jake off before he shuts the door. It makes you laugh.

“He’s hot,” you hear Tash say as you both lie flat on your fronts, the last rays of the evening sun on your backs.

“He’s no Rooster though.” You tease, and she flushes pink.

“Not for me,” she deflects, as she slides her shades down the bridge of her nose, “for you.”

“I’m good Tash.” You laugh, as you turn your attention back to the book in front of you, flipping a page over.

“Come on, don’t you want a vacation fling.”

“Not particularly.”

“He’s coming,” she hisses and you look up just in time to see the man she was talking about, tanned, tall, dark sandy brown hair, approaches.

“My friends and I were going to go in there for a drink, care to join us?” He gestures to his group of 3 friends before pointing towards The Hard Deck.

“We -” Tash starts, and you cut in immediately.

“- are meeting some friends.” You smile, apologetically up at him, your own shades covering your eyes.

“Friends?” The beach stranger asks, with a small laugh, while tilting his head to a side, “or boyfriends?”

“Friends.” Tash affirms for you before you can get a word out. “How about we catch you inside.”

“Sounds good,” he flashes you both a wide smile, and thumbs up, “I’m Paul.” He says, before jogging back to his friends.

“Tash,” you start, only to have her press a finger to your lips.

“Nu-uh, I’m doing this for you, you’ll thank me.”

“You guys should come with us the next time.” Coyote tips the mug of beer to his lips.

“You can see Bradshaw make a fool of himself first hand.” Jake chimes in, tone smug and slightly mocking, his words directed at the table, from beside you, his ankle leaning casually, against yours under the table the group is seated at.

“No thanks,” Phoenix snorts as she pops a fry into her mouth. “Golf seems boring. Besides,” she dusts her hands off before propping her elbows on the table and pointing towards you, “we had an arguably more fruitful day than the lot of you.”

“Fruitful?” It’s Fanboy who asks, his head swivelling from Phoenix to you.

“Did you kill someone Trace,” Payback jokes, to a laugh from Bob.

“Little miss here,” she points at you, while wagging her eyebrows, “had the attention of Paul there.” She jabs a thumb over her shoulder in an outright manner, causing the table of aviators around you to carne their heads to stare across the room over at Paul and his friends, before she finishes her sentence “on her the entire afternoon.”

You feel Jake glance at you, brow slightly raised, but expression otherwise unreadable.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” you huff, as you take a sip of your beer.

“He was staring at her the whole afternoon,” Tash continues, much to your dismay and you can almost feel Jake bristling slightly beside you. “He introduced himself, and asked us to meet him in here.”

“I didn’t say anything, you said said yes.” You retort, shooting back at her, while you cross one leg over the other under the table to slide your foot up Jake’s calf in an attempt at reassurance.

“The. Whole. Afternoon.” Tash repeats, emphasis each words with a rap of her knuckles on the table.

“You. Are. Crazy.” You rap your knuckles against the table in imitation of her, and it earns you a round of laugher from the table, including from Tash herself. “I’m going to get another drink.” You say aloud, to no one in particular as you stand, pushing back your chair, your clear attempt at avoiding Tash’s persistent attempt to make the conversation about you and Paul.

You lean against the bar counter, catching Penny’s eye. She throws you an apologetic look, from across the hectic bar, and you shake your head, letting her know it’s fine and you’ll wait and give her a thumbs up. You twirl your card around in your fingers, tapping the plastic against the counter along with the beat of the music playing from the jukebox when you feel a hand on your shoulder, and a body close to yours, effectively caging you in against the bar counter. You want to think it Jake, but the scent of the cologne pervading your senses tells you that it’s not.

You manage to flip around, your back pressed tight against the bar counter, the edge of the wood pressing into your skin, to come face to face with Paul. The scent of alcohol hits you as he exhales, and a look at his eyes, which are glassy and unfocused, tells you that he has had too much to drink.

“Hey,” he starts, and you can hear that his speech is slurred, “what took you so long. Your friend said you guys would be in here.”

You try to side step your way out, but he leans forward, his hands grabbing onto the bar counter on either side of you, firmly trapping you.

“I need to get back to my friends.” You say, voice firm, as you cross your hands over your chest in defence.

“Sugar,” he starts, and you cringe outrightly at the term, “forget about your friends, you’re here with Paul now.” He leers openly at you, his gaze dipping below your neck, tracing its way down the sundress which you had thrown over your two piece as a cover up.

“Let me out.” You unfold your arms, to push against his shoulder, attempting to force your way out. He doesn’t budge, but chooses instead to grip your upper arm, his fingers digging into your flesh.

“Come on now,” he slurs, his fingers bruising into your skin, “why are you playing hard to get now.” He moves his other hand from the counter to run a knuckle down the side of your face, causing you to shudder openly at the contact of his skin with yours. “You and you little friend were lying on that beach the whole afternoon in those small little swimsuits.”

His words make you roll your eyes, anger rising in you.

“It’s a fucking beach Paul.” You shake your head, hitting his hand away from your face. It enrages him, and you see his eyes harden as his hand that is on your upper arm presses more firmly into your skin.

“You little-” He begins to say, and you brace yourself, ready to face him head on, when you see a familiar hand land on his shoulder. Paul stumbles backward as the hand on his shoulder yanks him away from you.

“Stay the fuck away from her.” Jake steps in front of you, putting himself between you and Paul, who has stumbled forward in attempt to regain his balance.

“Who the hell are you.” Paul spits out, but Jake doesn’t budge.

“Get the fuck out of this bar.” Jake says, and you can hear the anger burning in his tone. It’s an anger you have heard many times in your life, particularly so when you both had been young, and Jake had been alot more rash, and less collected than he was now.

“Or what?” Paul challenges, drawing himself up, to his full height, but Jake stands firm in front of you, unfazed as the taller of the two.

“Or,” Jake begins, and you hear a dangerous iciness to his tone that has started to interlace itself with his anger. You glance down, and see his fist balled tight, knuckles white. “I’ll make you sorry for ever touching my girl.” His voice is dangerous quiet, and low enough that only you, him and Paul can hear it.

You see the group of aviators now alerted to the commotion, and picking their way towards the three of you from your left, and Paul’s friends, who you decide look much more sober than he does, rushing over from your right. His friends reach him first, pulling him back just as Paul makes to raise his fist, and Rooster squares himself firmly beside Jake, the two men blocking you from view.

“Leave.” You hear Penny say, her tone cool, hard, angry as well, from behind the counter, and the bar, which has turned collectively to observe, watches, silently, as Paul’s friends drag him and themselves out the door.

“You okay?” You feel Penny’s hand on your shoulder, and Rooster’s concerned glance at you.

“I’m ok,” you say, throwing them each a smile, and Rooster nods, his gaze shifting from Jake, who has turned to face both you and Penny, his lips still pressed into a tight line, eyes still clouded with anger. Rooster tilts his head ever so slightly towards Jake, and you tip your head an inch down in a nod. You see him exchange a look with Penny, before both him and Penny back away, her back to the other side of the bar, which has once again started to bustle with noise as if nothing had happened; and Rooster, to gather the group that had managed to make their way halfway over to you, back to their corner, giving you space to deal with Jake.

“Jake.” You call his name, as you reach down to grab his fist, which is still balled up tightly and hanging by his side. He moves his gaze down to look at you, but the anger doesn’t dissipate.

“Jake,” you try again, fingers massaging against the skin of his balled up fist. “I’m fine.” You say and you see his gaze flick immediately to your arm.

“I should have punched that motherfucker.” He seethes, and you move your hand up to grab his wrist instead, squeezing firmly.

“I’m fine.” You emphasise again. You see his gaze begin to soften, and you move your hand up to his waist, your hand darting under his shirt, fingers squeezing lightly against his skin. It does the trick, and you hear a deep exhale from him as his anger begins to ebb away. “Let’s go home?” You ask, your bag already stowed away in his truck.

Jake nods, your last word pulling him back fully.

You both throw a wave at the group of aviators who have returned to their corner, receiving nods of understanding and waves in return, and you tug Jake out of the bar, your hand low and out of their sight, but your fingers interlocked loosely with his, as Jake follows behind you.

He comes to a stop in front of his truck, pausing before he unlocks the door.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner.” He says, and it makes you frown.

“Jake,” your tone is disapproving, chastising, as you reach out to slide your hands around his midsection. “I can take care of myself, and you were there plenty soon.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but you cut in with a firm “no”. There is a moment of silence, where Jake’s shoulders tense up, but you rub a hand against his back, pressing your cheek to his chest, grounding him, and he lets the tension go, choosing instead to wrap his arms around you.

You both don’t notice Penny watching with a small smile on her lips from behind the bar, looking out of the window as Jake folds into your touch and you mould yourself into him.

“Didn’t know they were together.”

Penny holds her arms over her chest as the bartender, Harry, comes to stand beside her, both watching as you both pull away from each other.

“They aren’t,” she respond, she and Harry watching as Jake says something to which you respond by punching him lightly on the shoulder, attempting to turn away, only for him to laugh before he catches you by the waist and connect his lips to yours.

“Sure looks like they are.”

Penny watches as you fall into the kiss, fully, wholly, completely, despite it being short before pulling away.

“Not officially” she says as Jake opens the door of his truck for you, letting you step up and in, before reaching over to buckle you in, both of you joking with each other, every single ounce of tension and anger from earlier gone, eyes twinkling in the faint glow of the street lamp towering overhead, “but they are.”

Penny had seen plenty of fights in The Hard Deck, and she had seen one too many involving Jake Seresin - but what she had never seen was him, or any man who threw a punch or came close in this bar, for that matter, let go of his anger as quickly as Jake had because of you

“They don’t need to be, to be, huh.” Harry asks as he slings the dishcloth in his hands over a shoulder.

“They’ve always been.” Penny mutters simply as she watches Jake shut your door and jog over to the driver’s side.

>> PART 6

Series taglist: @blue-aconite @rosiahills22 @luckyladycreator2 @britty443 @yanak324 @rule107 @fuckyeahhangman @spidey-d00d @dempy @barista-library @alexwinchester23 @shakira-sasha @bxwitched @lumenseal @obiwankenobis-lap @prettybiching @littlebadariell @actuallybarb @beaner-life-23 @coco-loco-nut @criminalyetminimal @tragzerus @alana4610 @tkmarvel-divergentbish @kilojulietsierra @imagineyneyjr r @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @ive-got-more-wit @fuzzy-panda @helloimhereforabit @meowimakellysaurusrex @t-rexs @iangiemae @shawnsthighs @cxit-writes @shanimallina87 @dempy @mell-bell @saynotononsense @justsplendidd @dont-talk-me-down @the-cranck-hobbit @blindedbyyourgrace17 @fandom-life-12 @bxwitched @indynerdgirl @hope-love-equality2 @fangirlofallthings22 @alistocats @callsign-marlie @bellamy1998 @slayry @bladed-planes @turningtoclown @double-j @shanimallina87 @chiffondaydreams @capswife

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jinwoosungs · 2 years

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{ 49 }

the hauntingly beautiful phantom.

akira kurusu x fem.reader

10 stages of love

1 - first sight

it was the start of the new year for you at shujin academy, and you were becoming curious with all the whispers about this new transfer student.

akira kurusu.

that was the name you heard being whispered throughout the hallways of shujin, everyone appearing wide eyed and nervous at the thought of meeting someone so "dangerous."

according to the rumors, he was on probation for violently beating up a grown man. that his actions were somehow connected to the mafia and that everyone should stay away from him lest they wanted to face his so-called "wrath."

foolishly enough, you almost fell for their rumors and believed your peers hadn't it been for the fact that you had already seen akira in the flesh. your friends suddenly stopped you, keeping you pinned against the walls when they whispered your name and pointed an accusing finger at the lanky boy steadily approaching.

"that's him. kurusu, the madman that's on probation for a year."

more whispered murmurs came forth from your friends' mouths, and as they spoke with fear, all you could do was stare at the boy that walked with his head down and his hands shoved deep into the pocket of his pants.

only when he met with your curious gaze did you finally get a good look at him.

with locks of messy hair the shade of a deep moonless night and eyes that appeared to hide some deep emotion within its silvery depths-

and he was beautiful, achingly beautiful with the loneliness that exuded from his form.

for a few seconds, it seemed that he was going to stop and speak to you-

yet that possibility was ripped away when your friend takes a protective hold of your arm. "back off, freak. she doesn't want anything to do with you."

you only caught a glimpse of the sudden flash in his eyes, taking note of how hurt he looked all while you were dragged away from him.

it was then that you decided you needed better and new friends.

2 - introduction

you were stalling, and you knew you were.

but really, what could you even say to him?

hey, you may not remember me, but during the first day of school, you saw me staring until my friend dragged me away. but no worries! i dropped her ass and stopped being her friend just so i could get a chance to talk to you!

nope, there was no way in hell you were doing that, even though you had ultimately decided to ghost your ex friend for being so rude to him. you knew his name, but some part of you wanted him to know your name and who you were.

something about akira captivated you, and you wanted to tear down his walls and solve all the mysteries he had to offer.

you were barely paying attention in class when your gaze landed on ryuji's form. it was strange, he was always angry and a bit jittery when he suddenly quit track, but something about him today seemed restless.

his legs kept on jumping up and down, as if desperate to get out of class and run-

but to where, you couldn't say for sure.

when class finally ended for the day, ryuji was close to bolting out of the classroom, only to be stopped by the teacher's stern voice, "sakamoto, may i have a word with you."

"dammit." you hear him whisper beneath his breath, running a hand across his hair as he slouched toward the teacher, "yeah yeah, what is it now?"

with your books collected and your bag slung over your shoulder, you ease out of the classroom only to be met with grey eyes looking deeply into you.

akira's sudden appearance in front of your classroom makes you do a double take. you awkwardly bow to him, stuttering out your name before apologizing. "back then, i'm sorry for how my friend- well, ex friend behaved when she pulled me away from you. i just wanted to tell you that i don't believe the rumors and i'd love to be your friend."

you still weren't brave enough to fully face him, but when you heard a rich chuckle coming from the hauntingly beautiful boy, you couldn't help but lift your gaze-

only to lose your breath upon seeing him smile.

he comes closer to you, almost lifting up a hand to touch at your face, only to decide against it seconds later. he drops a hand back to his side and gives you a soft smile.

"thank you, that means a lot to me."

by now, your heart was racing, becoming warm with a familiar emotion you weren't brave enough to name just yet.

however, the moment was quickly interrupted when ryuji bursts back into the scene, all too eager for something when he traps akira in a headlock. "come on man, let's go to the usual place and plan."

paying no attention to you, it was now akira who was being dragged away from you by ryuji. you could only watch and raise your hand in a wave when akira looks back to flash you an apologetic expression until you were left all alone with your thoughts.

3 - interaction

throughout the following days, you wanted to believe that you were somewhat friends with akira-

but the way he kept disappearing on you was making it difficult for you to keep up.

not only that, but it seemed as though akira's friend group was steadily increasing. you could tell that something powerful tied them all together, making akira happier as he smiled more often now.

a part of you was sad about how hard it was to get closer to akira. despite how much you wanted to, it just seemed impossible.

so imagine your surprise when it was akira that came to you.

you were about to head home for the day when akira stops you, calling out your name when he beckons you to follow him towards the school's vending machines.

"do you want to see something neat?" his eyes were alight with happiness and an eagerness you had never seen before. feeling the tiniest bit enamored with his smile, you could only nod in response when he places his shujin bag on top of the table.

widening its zipper, you gasp upon seeing a black and white colored cat appear from the bag. he had startling blue eyes and kept meowing at akira, sometimes even swatting away at his hand when he tried to pet him.

"he's so cute, i bet he's such a sweet boy." you reach out your hand to pet the cat, earning a purr from him as you scratched behind his ears, "what's his name?"

being distracted with the cat, you didn't catch akira's smile, or the way his cheeks seemed to take on a hint of pink against his pale skin the more he kept on staring at you. "his name's morgana, and he likes you."

you spent some time in akira's company, petting morgana and spoiling him with your gentle scratches in a comfortable silence.

4 - attraction

you were falling for akira.

despite how you've only known him for a handful of weeks, you couldn't deny your feeling for him any longer. your heart was aching for him, and you wanted nothing more than to get even closer to him.

one afternoon, during lunch, you decided to head over to his classroom, hoping he was still there. in your hands was a homemade bento you had made for him this morning, filled with rice and side dishes you hoped he would like.

your heart was felt thrumming against your throat, getting closer and closer to the classroom as you peeked inside-

to see akira and ann takamaki holding hands.

the sight of it makes your heart drop down to your stomach, its weight heavy as a wave of heartbreak and nausea washes over you.

akira was clearly flustered as ann said some things to him, appearing so achingly beautiful that you couldn't help but feel like such a wallflower in comparison.

you knew about ann takamaki, the gorgeous blond who actually had a modeling gig at such a young age. sure, girls badmouthed her a lot, but really you knew it was because they were so jealous of her.

and you were feeling pretty green with envy as well.

before you could witness them potentially sharing secret kisses with each other, you clutch the bento box close to your chest and turn away from them.

you refused to let any tears fall.

what right did you have, believing akira was ever yours to begin with?

5 - date

something weird was going on, and it all started spiraling when kamoshida actually interrupted the school assembly. he was a wreck, absolutely in tears when he told the whole school about his abuse to students on the volleyball team.

his admission makes you shiver, and you wondered if all the rumors were true after all.

a few weeks after akira's appearance, there have been talk about this group of vigilantes known as the phantom thieves of heart. apparently, they were able to change the hearts of their targets based off of their calling card posted on the school's bulletin boards.

the card had called out kamoshida specifically, and you thought nothing of it. believing it to be a prank as there was no way scum like kamoshida would ever change. hell, kamoshida was the sole reason why you never joined any sports and did any extracurricular activities. you were fearful that his slimy hands would somehow find a way to ruin it-

but now, the man was actually turning himself in?

did that mean the phantom thieves were real after all?

these questions kept plaguing your mind, and admittedly, you weren't paying attention when someone was calling out your name with desperation.

you were about to exit the school when a hand was felt pulling you back. your wrist was suddenly gripped by this stranger, and you were forced to turn around and face the person that had stopped you.

"akira."

he appeared out of breath, his face turning a light shade of pink when he calls out your name. "h-hey, it's been a while."

you try to shake him off of you, earning a frown from akira when you begin to lightly shove against his chest.

"stop, just let me go. wouldn't takamaki get the wrong idea if she sees you with me?"

akira's frown deepens. "what does ann have to do with this?"

it was now your turn to give him a puzzled expression, "isn't she your girlfriend? i-i mean, i saw you holding hands with her not too long ago!"

the realization that dawned on akira's face made him all the more beautiful to you, and he laughs once more. stepping closer to you, he gently runs a hand across your cheek before saying, "silly, she's not my girlfriend. uhm, that day was just practice."

he appeared sheepish then, moving his hand away from you to run them across his unruly locks. "i really wanted to make sure my hands weren't too sweaty in case i wanted to hold yours during our first date together."

the relief you felt was staggering, and you had to fight back the urge to kiss him right then and there when you accepted his offer for a date.

6 - holding hands

he takes you to a classic dinner and a movie date.

during dinner, your conversations were kept lighthearted, the subject matter being solely on you alone as you told akira all about yourself.

yet when you tried to find out anything about akira, he kept his answers clipped short, never quite meeting your gaze as he distracted himself with taking casual sips of his drink.

you figured that he was just being shy, since this was your first date together and all.

with dinner finished, akira takes care of the bill and leads you outside of the restaurant. you figured he would simply walk beside you, carrying on with the conversation casually.

so when you felt the night air hit at your skin, you weren't expecting akira to suddenly reach out to you. the touch was brief at first, his pinky simply linking together with yours as his gaze appeared shy.

you squeeze your pinky together with his for a few seconds before pulling away. akira was about to protest until he felt the palm of your hand meet with his, your fingertips lightly caressing at his skin before intertwining them together.

both of your hands were now interlocked, earning a shy smile from akira as he squeezes your hand before proceeding to walk toward the movie theater.

7 - first kiss

why did akira have to pick a horror movie?

let's just say you weren't a big fan of horror. each time something horrifying popped up on the screen, you found yourself hiding within akira's shoulder. you refused to allow such horrid imagery to haunt your daydreams and leak into your nightmares when you fell asleep at night.

akira kept holding hands with you, squeezing them here and there each time you got scared. when he leans in to whisper in your ear, he sounded genuinely apologetic. "i'm so sorry. if i had known how much you hated horror, i would have asked if you wanted to watch something different before buying the tickets."

in hindsight, yes, you should have said something to akira to prevent this from happening. but you payed no mind to the movie, solely feeling happy that you got to spend more time with him.

but now, you figured you should have said something after all.

a blood curdling scream was heard, and you were left whimpering, hiding yourself even deeper within akira's shoulder. you felt him trembling a bit before letting out a sigh.

he brushes his lips against your ear and whispers your name, "would you like me to do something to distract you?"

you cling to the front of his shirt, desperate for anything to keep you away from the scenes the movie was playing. looking at akira, you take a moment to admire his handsome face being lit up by the movie screen behind him.

he whispers your name once more before leaning in to press his lips against yours.

they were slightly chapped, but still so soft when his lips slanted against yours. you were breathless, practically drinking him in as you both tentavively tasted each other.

he tasted like coffee and the dessert you shared at dinner, making you moan when you suddenly cry out to him.

"excuse me, but if you could refrain from making out on the seats, some people are actually trying to watch this movie."

you heard someone whisper harshly from beside you, causing you and akira to break away from each other almost immediately. your cheeks felt heated as akira's own face began to light up with his own blush.

despite how embarrassed you were, you felt grateful for akira's kiss since it was all you could think about all while the horror movie continued to play.

8 - relationship

there was a sudden rift growing between you and akira.

lately, it seemed as though he were spending less and less time with you. his days were spent with catching up on schoolwork, yet every time you went to meet with him, he would either avoid you or tell you he was too busy for a date.

"i'm sorry, treasure, maybe some other time, yeah?"

when he blew you off the first few times, you thought nothing of it. it was getting close to midterms and he was probably busy with his studies.

yet when your brief weekend came, and you texted him, asking him if he wanted to meet you at your favorite cafe, he would leave you on read and not even bother to reply.

while the distance seemed to be increasing, it seemed as though akira gained even more friends, which included other girls.

nijima and okumura were suddenly added to his growing crew, both of them incredibly intelligent and lovely in their own ways that you felt your self esteem shrinking considerably.

weren't relationships supposed to be something wonderful? a compromise made between the two parties involved solely because they wanted to be together?

so why did it suddenly feel like akira wanted nothing to do with you anymore?

despite his nickname for you, with akira often referring you as his treasure, you felt as though the nickname was filled with irony.

you didn't feel cherished by akira at all.

perhaps it was due to your loneliness that you visited the phantom aficionado website, posting on their own forums with your information along with this angsty title and phrase:

completely left broken-hearted by my boyfriend. i love him so much, but i don't think he feels the same way anymore. please, if the phantom thieves of heart do exist, can they steal away my feelings for him?

9 - love

you ended up deleting your forum post the next day, berating yourself for being so stupid.

there's no way in hell they'd even recognize your pleas. in comparison to how they wanted to change the world for the better, your feelings amounted to something extremely trivial and didn't warrant their so called services.

just how selfish could you be?

you sigh, laying back in bed and looking at the ceiling. the air was still warm, and you left the window open in hopes of having some fresh air to clear your mind.

with your eyes closed, you thought about what you could do when it came to your relationship with akira. a part of you wanted to just end this heartache and break it off with him-

but the part that still loved him refused.

you were probably stupid for this, but truly you wanted to stay with him. your memories together of all the dates you shared kept repeating, painting a beautiful mesh of emotions that stemmed from your heart.

you loved akira kurusu-

even if he didn't love you.

the breeze suddenly felt stronger to you when you felt a presence in your room, causing you to sit up with a gasp.

standing in the middle of your carpeted floor was a phantom thief you had seen captured in the blurry images posted on the internet. he appeared absolutely dashing, with a beauty that displayed his playful nature.

a bird-like domino mask covers his eyes, and it was strange, but you swore that the phantom thief simply known as joker was looking at you with fondness. the ends of his cape kept rustling with his every step, coming closer to you as he held out a hand for you to take.

"w-what are you doing here?" still caught up in your heartache over akira, you could only gaze up at him in confusion, earning a rich chuckle from him-

the sound being achingly familiar to you as you shivered in response.

"is it wrong of me to want to comfort a maiden in distress?"

his deep voice oozed with confidence, and you found yourself becoming mesmerized with him. without even thinking about it, you allow joker to take your hand. yet instead of holding it, he uses it to bring you into his arms as he carried you bridal style toward your open window.

"w-wait! put me down! just where are you taking me?!"

"somewhere fun." joker simply winks at you before jumping out of your window.

you had to hold on to him for dear life, your hair whipping in the wind as he moved lithely from rooftop to rooftop. only when he reached the rooftop of the tallest building did he stop.

still refusing to let you go, joker tells you to look up, and you do so.

you were blown away, completely in awe of the night sky with the full moon shining against the darkness. it was so beautiful that you slowly felt your prior heartache and loneliness melt away.

"thank you, joker, for taking me here. it's beautiful."

"not as beautiful as you are, my treasure."

you stiffen upon hearing the familiar nickname, looking at joker to see his teeth biting at his bottom lip. you saw a light sheen of tears against his silvery grey eyes and reach out at him to push back his mask-

and be met with the face of akira kurusu.

he lets out a sob of your name, suddenly kneeling against the rooftop as he buries his face into your neck. "i'm so sorry. i didn't mean to make you feel unwanted or unloved, not when i adore you so much."

slowly, things began to click into place. like how akira and joker were one and the same, and the fact that joker was notoriously known to be the leader of the phantom thieves.

it was because of him that the world was changing, and the mere thought had you reeling with just how intense your love was for him.

delving your hands into his soft hair, you pull him away from you. you were both crying, becoming filled with emotion when you lean in to kiss one another, finally coming together after spending so much time apart.

you catch bits and pieces of akira's confession, mainly telling you how much he wanted to keep you safe and away from his double life as a phantom thief.

"but when i saw your post on the phansite forum, i knew i had been neglecting you and decided to do something about it." he frames at your face and presses a kiss against your forehead.

"i love you, my treasure. and i swear to you, i will make this right again."

10 - commitment

the days leading up to akira's arrest was filled with dread, and you were happy that he was finally safe and sound and in your arms once more.

when he had been betrayed by one of his teammates, akira had saw it coming and had a plan to escape if only for a brief moment, until they could finally put an end to shido.

by some twisted fate, it was thanks to a corrupt politician known as shido masayoshi that akira was arrested. akira had simply protected a woman from being assaulted by shido, and in his drunken state he fell against some steel beams.

in his anger, he called the cops and had akira wrongly arrested for assault.

just hearing akira's story made you upset all over again. you hated what the police did to akira and wanted desperately to protect him.

here, he lay in bed, covered up in his hoodie and a pair of sweats. despite everyone's best efforts to help with healing the cuts and bruises on his face, he still looked awful. his lip was still cut, and fresh bruises were still seen blossoming all across his form.

tears dot your vision when you lean into him, pressing butterfly kisses all across the darkened skin seen on his face. while you continued kissing away at his bruises in hopes of easing his pain, you felt akira lift up a hand to lightly brush against your back.

he had woken up upon feeling your tears land against his skin. with his hand on your face, he gently pulls you away, looking into your eyes with love.

"is my treasure crying for me?" he caresses at your skin, making you close your eyes in response as you lean into him.

"they're monsters for doing this to you, and i hate every single one of them."

akira sits up, welcoming you into his arms as he held on to you. you whisper words of love to each other and seal it with several kisses.

when you pull away, you realize akira was searching his pockets for something, appearing troubled and nervous for a few seconds before he pulled something out.

he quietly tells you to close your eyes, so he could properly give you your surprise gift. with a nod, you do so, waiting with anticipation when you feel akira take a hold of your left hand. you feel something cool slide against your ring finger and hesitantly open your eyes to see what akira had given you.

your eyes widen when you saw a lovely ring with your favorite gemstone attached to the middle. you had never received something so beautiful before in your life and was practically left breathless when akira leans in to kiss at the ring.

"we're too young for marriage, b-but still, i wanted to give you something to signify my promise to you. i love you so much, treasure, and i can't imagine spending my life with anyone else but you. my best friend, and the one person who truly gave me a chance."

you smile at akira, feeling overwhelmed with the amount of love and joy you had for him. you come together in a tangle of limbs, falling back in bed with whispered promises of forever, not caring about what the future may bring as long as you were together.

epilogue

the morning had finally came and was currently shining its rays on a pair of lovers still sleeping comfortably in bed. the sun was felt shining directly in your eyes, causing you to moan as you hid your face within your lover's bare chest.

you wanted to sleep some more, but it seemed as though he had other plans when you felt his hand gently stroke at your bare back.

"why're you up so early?"

his voice was raspy, making you shiver as you smile against his skin. letting out a yawn, you shove yourself off of him and decide that it would be much better and more fun to do this instead.

you were now straddling your husband, settling yourself across his lap as you admired his lithe and muscular body.

akira opens one eye to look at you, its silvery hues still managing to make your heart race even after all these years. crawling on top of him, you eagerly kiss him, not caring that it was morning and you had both just woken up.

you feel akira smile against your kiss, suddenly switching your positions so that you were now pressed into the bed with him hovering over you. he smiles down at you, and you felt your heart become stolen all over again as your beloved phantom thief peppered your face with sweet kisses.

it was clear now that your heart would forever be within your beloved thief's clutches-

but lucky for you, you had long stolen his heart. from the moment akira first locked gazes with yours, he knew that becoming your forever was inevitable.

a.n. - i'm so happy, i'm finally able to write a full 10 stages of love story with the boy i love the most. i love you akira kurusu, and i hope this story does justice in painting you as the soft and kind boy you always were ♡

this is currently unedited, but i hope you readers enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it ♡ i'll fix any mistakes throughout the day once this story is posted ♡

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#akira kurusu x reader #akira x reader #kurusu akira x reader #akira kurusu fluff #joker x reader #akira kurusu imagine #ren amamiya x reader #amamiya ren x reader #ren amamiya imagine #.stories

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blackfemmecharacterdependency · 5 months

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Happy Science Fiction Day: Black Women in Sci Fi

I am gonna make a masterlist for Black Women in Sci Fi, because January 2 is Science Fiction Day. But, I am still under the weather, so... you guessed it... this is a placeholder..

Starting with the Basics:

Afrofuturism | Black Women in Sci Fi | Black Women in Star Trek | Black Women in Star Wars (Shows & Movies Masterlist) | Black Women in Doctor Who | Black Women in Sci Fi | Sci Fi | Science Fiction Day (Many of these might just be the same stuff. Idk right now.) Black Women in Sci Fi Playing Women I will be expanding on this person's work someday.

Franchises

The Alien Series | Doctor Who | Star Trek: The Original Series, The Animated Series, The Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, Voyager, Discovery, Lower Decks, Picard, Strange New Worlds, | Star Wars |

Shows I've Reblogged

Movies I've Reblogged

Short Film

I Am

Definitely likely changing the way that this is set to have it be a character list like the other BFCD Masterlists, but for today, this all I got for the girlies. To be fair, it might need to be like the Monsters ones. Or, I might do a separate one that's characters later. Idk.

#Science Fiction Day #placeholder tag #January 2 #holidays and observances #BFCD Masterlist #Black Women in Sci Fi Masterlist

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isnovelman · 10 months

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Isn't Being A Wicked Woman Much Better? Side Story Chapter 17

i also upload this chapter in my YT, feel free to read there to support my effort, click👉Link

***

“I didn't expect you to get your diploma so soon.”

What a summer semester graduation!

The dean of the Academy's Faculty of Magic, my uncle, the Marquis of Wert, puts down his teacup and grinned.

He seems cold and cynical at first glance, but seeing the same face often, he knew he wasn't in a bad mood today.

“To be honest, the picture is strange for a single magician to teach the saint who saved the empire. ”

“But it is true that graduating too early according to the school rules… I thought the dean would be against it.”

“Do I not look so inflexible like your father?”

Addition adds more, but it doesn't look less.

I swallowed the hard words that came to my throat.

“Honestly, I didn't want to make an exception either, but I can't help it. Because of you, my work is almost paralyzed.”

“.....”

“I’m going to see you, and even the graduates come to the undergraduate building from time to time, and I feel like I’m going to die.”

He shakes his head with a rather troubled face.

In fact, when the academy started, it was much more serious than it is now. The formula lectures I was giving were like taking a break.

“I respect you! Lady! Sign it!”

“Call my name just once!”

“Lady! Just say one word that you will pass your graduation thesis!”

“I feel like I will be able to pass the matriculation exam after receiving the saint from afar!”

There were people who didn't listen to lectures telling me to listen, and treated me as a totem of ups and downs.

'Of course, even if you only open your eyes wildly, you close your mouth right away.'

In the past, when I appeared, everyone was busy bowing their heads and politely giving way... .

‘I don’t really want to go back to the days of a villainess, but there were definitely things I was comfortable with.'

Still, it seems that some polarizing fans were in school, It seems that he was finally able to escape from the space called the school thanks to the trouble he made to the dean and president of the Academy.

The long compulsory education period, 5 years of undergraduate life, and hard work at the academy passed like a lantern.

“… It’s too long.”

While relieving, Marquis Berthe suddenly murmured.

“What?”

“I thought you were good at teaching. If possible, I was thinking of making a teaching assistant. Because that's the fastest way to become a professor.”

'Hey, it's not too harsh, oh!'

With the creepy remark that he wanted to pamper me like a grad student, he casually pushed the cake in front of me. with a small box.

“This… .”

When I opened the box, it contained a rose-shaped brooch, and his scar trembled for a moment.

“When I see you, I think of Marien. She was the junior she wore. She was a good lecturer, so she was going to be a teaching assistant, but I don't think my younger brother would run away with her.”

“...?”

Surely, not a love triangle, but a favorite graduate student No. 1?

Having written several chijeong novels in my head, I erased the questions that came to mind. Sometimes it's better to just leave it unaware.

“Your mother was a beautiful bride to match May. Marriage, congratulations.”

“Thank you, dean.”

“What dean when you get your diploma? Call me uncle.”

Uncle...

At the name that came out a little awkwardly, he smiled softly, incomparably with the previous one.

“I’ll see you at the wedding, Deborah.”

***

Upon hearing the news of Isidor's marriage, the Marquis of Jaba Slein hurried up to the capital with her family. It was to help her nephew's wedding preparations.

In the Empire, instead of the bride bringing the dowry, the groom prepared the wedding preparations, so Isidor would have a lot to worry about.

“Originally, this kind of preparation has to be led by an adult in the family… ”

In the mind of the Marquis, the childhood image of Isidore, who was like an angel from the past, was etched in her mind. Perhaps that's why his nephew, who had to carry out all the preparations alone, felt pity for him.

But after a while, instead of sticking her tongue out in pity, she sticks it out in exasperation.

To put it bluntly, perfectionism is a long one... … .'

He is a person with a reputation for being meticulous, but his nephew is a bit more sophisticated.

'I don't think there's a way to skip something.'

Isidor, who visited the wedding venue in advance, not only looked at the seating arrangement, but also the banquet room curtain decorations, candle holders, wine glasses, carpets, and even cutlery used by guests.

“This tableware is a trendy style?”

The vassal quickly responded to Isidor's point.

“Yes. There are a lot of nobles in the capital who prefer this kind of tableware these days, so I prepared it.”

“But it’s a formal place, but you don’t feel too heavy. Also, it’s not a flower pattern that suits the season, is it?”

“I will change it right now.”

The Marquis of Vaslein approached Isidor, watching closely the number placed on the tablecloth.

“May I give you a heartfelt message to the Duke of Visconti?”

Isidor, who had even taken off his gloves and checked the texture of the tablecloth, lifted his head at his aunt's call.

“Speak at ease, Auntie.”

“Yeah, don’t be shy. It would be a headache just to sort out the guest list, but if you look at every little thing like this, your nerves won't be left behind.”

“As soon as this place, which you rented for a dinner party, became known, the empire was turned upside down. If it had been this way, Seymour's first headmaster would have been satisfied.”

“The little things make the best quality. Visconti’s invitation.”

“… The invitation left such a saying?”

“Yes, I remember.”

Seeing his nephew, who said he was only following the laws of the Visconti, to stop nagging, the Duchess of Vaslain shook her head as if she couldn't do it.

“You really remember everything.”

“aunt also has a good memory. I want you to forget about my immature childhood... .”

She often glorified Isidore as a child. Little Isidor, with rosy cheeks, dazzling blonde hair, and big eyes, was as real as her face, like an angel who had just descended from the earth.

“Isidor, when have you been immature? You grew up too early for needlessly because of your rude father.”

“I did the exact opposite because my father didn’t like it, but I look like I’m mature.”

“… Well, on the other hand, he was a perfect guy to be a teacher.”

I say it lightly now, but what the former Visconti owner, Albert Visconti did, was beyond my imagination.

As the only son was a mess, the former family's affection for the genius grandson grew and the conflict between the father and son deepened.

'It was terrible... .'

As she recalled the past, her eyes fell deeply.

***

In the long past, the Visconti Castle was always noisy due to the clamor of Bardo Visconti, the former headmaster. Even the sound of the rough waves crashing into the Alea Strait could not sweep away his shouts of force.

“There are drug dealers in the castle. Albert, are you crazy!?”

“Ah, father… !”

“Aren’t you ashamed to look at Isidor!? While you marred Visconti's impeccable prestige and defiled the stature of a noble bloodline, your son has awakened the talent of a magic swordsman! whopping! At the age of eight when you hid in an underground warehouse and stole alcohol!”

When Bardo Visconti provoked Isidor, Albert Visconti, who was trembling, suddenly bubbled like a mad dog.

“father! Where the hell is my son?”

“What?”

“I know it all. Isidore is actually my younger brother, so I'm wearing it like my own son, right?”

“this… this guy! What nonsense are you talking about now?”

“Also. If you are stabbed, you are revolting.”

Albert rubbed his eyes like a madman and teasing his tongue.

“Anyway, Olga, I’ll have to pull the girl’s hair out and let Chidogon go. I'm playing with my sister-in-law, how dare I take a sip of my behavior on the topic of an affair?! The person who will receive the huge alimony is me!! dare! Dirty bitch!”

Olga, a victim of an arranged marriage, was fed up with Albert's Visconti's chaos and divorced after giving birth to Isidor.

After the divorce, the news that she died of an illness had been heard five years ago, and Bardo Visconti could not overcome his anger and drew a decorative sword, seeing his son tarnishing the honor of the deceased.

“After hanging out with the backstreets, every time I open my mouth, the smell of stinking vibrates! I will rip off your tongue today.”

“Hey, hey!”

Albert, who drank too much and couldn't even use his sword properly, was frozen by the blood of his father, the sword master.

“You poor bastard! The spirit is not as strong as that of a ten-year-old Isidor. I don't know if you are really my son!”

Just as Bardo Visconti was fed up and was about to cut his tongue with a knife, Agat broke in and stopped them.

After staying in the Bar Slaine estate, she stopped by the Visconti Castle after a long time and had no choice but to become a flagship at the sight unfolding before her eyes.

“Agat, go away!”

“father! Isidor is watching!”

Why is it that the father slaps his brother so loudly at the place where the child sees it? Isn't it too harsh to show that young child the cruel sight of his grandfather cutting off Jea's tongue?

“Ugh! Huh”

“Albert, you just owe your sister a tongue.”

The sharp blade that had dug into his shabby lips slowly fell away.

“ugh… uh... ”

Blood cascades from Albert Visconti's long slit lips and chin.

”.....“

“Isidor! Don't stand here and go to your room.“

“Agat, you are the older sister who only looks at that child too young. My grandchildren don't even blink an eye at this. He's a bold guy like a Visconti.”

Little Isidor, who was standing loudly beyond the chaotic door, thought as he watched his father's tears, runny noses, and blood.

it's dirty.

The thick bloody smell and the smell of man's dung pee mixed together, and his nasal passages throbbed. It was tens of times more disgusting than the smell from the barn.

“Ugh...”

When I met my father's hazy eyes, I suddenly felt an insect crawling all over my body. Goosebumps rose from the forearms and the nape of the neck.

No matter how many times I wiped and wiped, the unpleasant sensation never went away. Bardo Visconti sighed briefly as he watched Isidor wiping his hands all day with an expressionless face.

“You are truly a Visconti even in this respect.”

Most of the Visconti's who ran away had a chronic tuberculosis. So Bardo Visconti was rather happy to see the child's fingertips that had been split and had blood on them.

A natural perfectionist temperament, the talent of a magic swordsman, a superhuman memory, and even the habit of raking gold by any means. Even if it was called the reincarnation of the invitation, it was not strange.

Target is 20 Likes and i will upload the next chapter if you all complete the target.

#novel #light novel #isn't being a wicked woman much better novel #isekai #reincarnation #villainess #isn't being a wicked woman much better manhwa #isn't being a wicked woman much better?#isn't Being A Wicked Woman Much Better novel translate #isn't Being A Wicked Woman Much Better novel English #isn't Being A Wicked Woman Much Better novel side Story Chapter 17 #side Story Chapter 17 #isn't Being A Wicked Woman Much Better side Story Chapter 17 #isn't Being A Wicked Woman Much Better side Story 17 #story 17 #chapter 17 #side 17

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xmencovered · 1 month

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Strange Academy: Finals Vol 1 1 Momoko Variant / Published: October 2022 / Artist: Peach Momoko

#peach momoko #magik #strange academy #strange academy finals #2020s xmen

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study-with-aura · 2 months

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Tuesday, April 9, 2024

Today went very well. I am glad that I was able to catch up on my posts during my break earlier. I am now eating my evening snack, and then I will get ready for bed before spending a bit of time with my parents until it is time for sleep.

I am not quite sure if I am a fan of statistics quite yet seeing as conditional probability took me a little longer to understand, but I do think I finally figured it out so it made sense in my brain. On the other hand, the book that I am almost done with is so good. They mentioned the father of taxonomy, who I only recently studied in Biology. Yes, I forgot his name, but it isn't important as he did a terrible thing by assigning value to a person based on their race and said that there were four races, and technically even five, and then he assigned them an order and why they were in that particular order. Apparently, that was one of the ideas behind race realism which is pseudoscience at best in which geneticists even say there is no actual scientific backing for despite how it is often displayed. Although, I am finding this out from this book, with what I know in general, I trust it. Sometimes non-fiction can be difficult to read, but when it's written like this, and because I like history, I don't want to put the book down. It's strange that I somewhat remember hearing about some of the events mentioned in the book, but I can't recall it perfectly. I was only 7 then!

Tasks Completed:

Geometry - Learned about conditional probability + practice + learned to check for independence with conditional probabilities + practice + honors work

Lit and Comp II - Reviewed Unit 23 vocabulary + read chapters 54-55 of Emma by Jane Austen and finished the novel + took quiz on Emma (12/10)

Spanish 2 - Copied and studied clothing vocabulary

Bible I - Read 1 Samuel 13-14:1-15

World History - Learned about Anne Frank + read some of Anne Frank's writings + learned about Nazi ideology

Biology with Lab - Completed virtual mystery "lab" story (14/15)

Foundations - Read more on thoroughness + took next quiz on Read Theory + read steps of Monroe's "Motivated Sequence" + read about the psychology of persuasion

Piano - 60-minute piano lesson + practiced for one hour

Khan Academy - Built into coursework

CLEP - None today

Streaming - Watched Greatest Events of World War II in Color episode 3

Duolingo - Studied for 15 minutes (Spanish, French, Chinese) + completed daily quests

Reading - Read pages 323-376 of Accountable: The True Story of a Racist Social Media Account and the Teenagers Whose Lives It Changed by Dashka Slater

Chores - Laundry

Activities of the Day:

Personal Bible Study (2 Corinthians 6)

Ballet

Pointe

Journal/Mindfulness

What I’m Grateful for Today:

I am grateful that my piano teacher was very proud of me today for having three of my pieces fully memorized and almost a fourth!

Quote of the Day:

Without music, life would be a blank to me.

-Emma, Jane Austen

🎧10 Pieces from Romeo and Juliet, Op. 75 - Sergei Prokofiev

#study blog #study inspiration #study motivation #studyblr #studyblr community #study community #study-with-aura

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saneijeijei · 7 months

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Academy of Sword and Magiс

[1\?]

Penelope and Callisto's relationship begins six months before the young woman's debut. Eckhart is in love with the Crown Prince and believes that her feelings are mutual. They meet secretly, knowing that neither the duke nor the emperor will support their relationship due to political tension inside the capital. They do not show their feelings and what they know in public, for fear of being revealed.

But after Yvonne returns, everything changes. Callisto rejects Penelope and laughs if she talks about their relationship, saying that she allegedly made them up. Heartbroken Penelope barely remembers how the debut is going, how the terrible thing happens - the poisoning of Yvonne.

The whole family blames her for this, not wanting to listen to any excuses and evidence. Left completely alone under a house ban in her room, the young woman did not know what to do when an angry Callisto came to her, wanting to avenge his new lover.

Penelope, miraculously manages to survive this meeting and escape.

Thanks to the low-ranking magic she learned, after the events of the hunting competitions, she was able to leave the capital and go to the most remote part of the empire, where she wanted to settle down and start living again, hoping that the duchy, like the Crown Prince, would not search for her anymore. They enjoying happy life with the real daughter of the Eckhart family.

But she didn't know at all how she could make money here. The jewelry and the torn dress that she was wearing, she sold for good money on the first day. But money tended to run out, and it was a bad idea to think about work when they were completely gone. Climbing into her small travel bag, Penelope found a fragment of a Mirror.

"What a useless garbage," she snorted and wanted to throw it into the swamp, as the shard began to shine brightly in her hands, showing her and the fact that she put the shard of the mirror back in the bag and went somewhere. "What the hell?"

Thinking about it, she decided not to throw it away and watch. Maybe the thing wasn't as useless as she thought it was. In the evening of the same day, after a hearty snack and going into the room she rented in a tavern, she took out a fragment and tried to make it show at least something other than a reflection again. But nothing worked. Giving up, she muttered: "Maybe I was dreaming.."

The shard shone again. Penelope looked there and saw herself creating something out of boards and fabric. Finally, she understood how it worked and figured out how to make money.

"Wizards? You mean the charlatans?" the owner of the tavern was perplexed with the guest's question. "If you need useless freeloaders, then they live on the outskirts of the city, towards Aunt Dor's farm. One of them also has such a strange sign.. With a cat? Or something similar to it."

Thanking for the information, Penelope went to the local wizard. The middle-aged man was immensely pleased with her until he realized that she was rather not his client, but just a random passerby who was unlikely to give money.

"I need a room. For divination, I see the future of people and can help them find out the truth." Penelope explained.

"A fortune teller? I hardly believe it, but if you pay rent, I will be glad to consider you a fortune teller" the man happily rubbed his hands, hoping for a promising income in his pocket from another "charlatan".

What was his surprise when the number of customers in a small fortune-teller's room became more and more every month. At first, the young woman did not charge her clients who were residents of a small town. Satisfied and especially impressionable, they told their visit to Penelope to their neighbors, and those to other neighbors from the neighboring village, spreading the story further and further.

In addition to ordinary citizens, aristocrats began to visit it, although not of the upper class, but still. From earls to viscounts. Fearing that she might be recognized, Penelope decided to furnish the room with an entourage and wear a suit that hides her eyes and hair. In it, she looked like a mystical fortune teller whose gaze is hidden from the visitor.

The fee for services grew, Penelope paid the wizard money for rent and assistance in servicing clients. A simple room has turned into a real mystical corner with incense and magical objects, one view showing that a real member of the magical world works here.

But in addition to the man, a nanny settled in the house, who looked after little Judith, who required a lot of attention and time, which Penelope did not have because of constant work and a desire to feed and provide a comfortable future.

Until one day, a strange old man comes to her for a foresighted session, asking her to tell about him and his past. Of course, she had similar clients who, due to illness, forgot where they lived or something important that they needed to remember and she did not charge them, letting them go with a pure soul to their loved ones.

But this old man was definitely not that kind of person. His past was filled with horror and death. A shard of a mirror reflecting fragments of the past into a glass ball chilled the blood in her veins. The old man, with a certain weariness and sadness in his eyes, watched his past.

"Let the Mirror show what will happen when I leave the city," he asked. "How do you know--?.." asked Penelope, frightened. "I know a lot of things, child. And I know that very soon the knight's guard will arrive here and take you to the capital. Aren't you, as one of the last representatives of the ancient magicians, afraid to be on your knees again in court for something you didn't do?" "Wh-what?.." "Ask the Mirror to show you if you think I'm lying, child. My name is Uwe, I am an elder from a small town where ancient magicians and ordinary magicians who were expelled from their lands live. I've heard a lot about your abilities and I see that you can use a fragment of an ancient magical artifact - the Mirror of Truth. This is amazing and truly an innate talent that not everyone can possess. I've come to help you. There aren't many like you and me left, but there is a place where you and your daughter will be safe. I can offer my protection and help so that you can live in peace without hiding behind all this masquerade. But we don't have much time and we need to decide right now."

Penelope looked at the flashing Mirror of Truth and clenched her hands into a fist nodded to the man. She needed to escape anyway if the imperial knights were already heading here. There's no reason for her to stay in this city. And Judith, too.

Seven years later, the empire makes a truce with the ancient magicians after a fierce struggle against Leila. In order to consolidate the alliance, the emperor and the elders sign a trade agreement on the purchase and sale, as well as participation in the cutting of precious stones for magical weapons. The Empire also creates conditions for magicians so that they can receive education and not be infringed on their rights.

In order to strengthen the established relations, an academy is being built on the territory of the empire, where both people and wizards will study in the same building in order to create a new generation that will rely on each other. Duke Eckhart's (Derrick) adopted daughter, 7-year-old Nora, and other children from aristocratic families become one of the elementary school students. Nora was a reserved but very kind child who was bullied despite the authority of her family.

The girl was taken from a shelter sponsored by the Eckhart family. Nora, who had lost her parents and was left completely alone, appreciated the duchy for sheltering her and giving her the opportunity to get an education that her own father could not have dreamed of. She was a timid and kind girl who knew that if she rebuffed her abusers, she could be worse off because of it, and not them at all. She kept silent about it and endured, pretending that she was not upset at all by the words of her peers.

Fortunately, by the beginning of the year, her roommate did not come because of family problems, so the first months of study the whole room was in her harness and no one could tell classmates how she cried, remembering all the hurtful things that other children did to her.

On one of the everyday school days, the girls called her behind the building to talk about her being too smart during math lessons. But as soon as the main offender managed to open her mouth, dirty water poured on top of her, which was used to wash the floor in the classroom. Offended girls screamed promising to take revenge on prankster until she saw who did it.

"You shouted too loudly, it prevented me from calmly preparing for the lesson," said a golden-haired girl looking out of the window with a bucket in her hands. "Oh, I'm sorry, Judith!..We're leaving!" classmates immediately ran away with a bully, apparently not wanting to get involved with a stranger.

Nora wanted to thank the savior, but Judith quickly lost interest and went back to class closing the window without saying anything. Eckhart spent the rest of the day in peace and quiet. Tired of the amount of knowledge she had gained, Nora went into her room and realized with horror that the same girl was sitting on the next bed.

"Hi, I'm Judith and I'm your roommate."

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zamoimagines · 1 year

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New Girl in Town

Chapters: 1

Word Count: 2,475

Tags: Cordelia x Reader, pure sapphic fluff, fem!reader

Summary: You moved out of state for a change of scenery, but you figured all you'd find was comfort in a new life far away from your old one. You never expected that you'd fall in love... Let alone with your neighbor that lived directly across the street from you.

A/N: This is a cute fluffy series I've been wanting to start for a while. It's been a hot minute since I've written a fic, so I hope I'm not too rusty. Hope ya'll like it <3

The rays of the morning sun pooled in from your bedroom window as the light seemed to touch every surface of your home. You stirred very gently, though when you realized what was waking you up, you smiled a little to yourself as you remembered exactly where you were.

It had always been your dream to get away from your roots and experience living somewhere completely different. Everyone you’d ever known in your hometown ended up stuck there, and you had always vowed to yourself that you wouldn’t end up the same way. Luckily for you, your dreams had become reality when the sudden opportunity to move clear out to Louisiana opened up to you. You jumped on it as quickly as you could. Before you knew it, you were moving out a week later and all of your belongings were completely settled in your new home.

Not that the house was new; On the contrary, it was a bit run down, as most historical homes in this area seemed to be. It wasn’t perfect, but it was yours. That was all that truly mattered to you.

When you had moved into town, the locals had asked you where you resided. You told them right across from the girl’s academy, and to your surprise, nearly everyone you’d met had given you a look of terror.

“You live there?! Don’t you know how dangerous that is!” One of the seniors had told you.

Another man had said, “Those girls practice devil worship! It’s unholy- Are you crazy?!”

“I heard that one of the girls set fire to the house next door. And one of the others killed an entire bus full of innocent college boys. It’s not safe there!” A local mother had said. All of their accounts seemed so far from reality that all you could do was smile, nod, and thank each person for their concern. You weren’t necessarily religious, so an eclectic all girl’s academy didn’t scare you at all. Until proven otherwise, it was just a school and you were just the woman that lived across the street.

You finally sat up in bed and stretched your arms upward, yawning and trying to regain consciousness. The move had taken much more out of you than expected. It was a good thing that you didn’t have any plans today considering your mind was a little foggy and your muscles felt completely worn out. Once you felt somewhat like a person again, you swung your feet out from your mattress and stood up to put on something comfortable for the day. Nowhere to go, nowhere to be. The only thing you’d really been sure about was that you needed coffee to function.

“Mm… Coffee.” You muttered groggily to yourself, echoing your own sleepy thoughts.

You took your time in the kitchen making a perfect cup before making your way out to your porch. As you sat down in one of the rocking chairs, the warm summer breeze gently brushed your face. You could smell all the flowers in bloom and a family of sparrows chirped happily from overhead. Taking a sip from your drink, you hummed gently to yourself as your eyes fluttered shut for a moment to enjoy this time with yourself. This place was like your own little slice of heaven.

“Mallory! Wait up, girlfriend!” A shrill, unfamiliar voice cut through your morning like a sharp knife. It was strange that it sounded as if the owner of that voice was getting closer and closer to where you were sitting. When you opened your eyes, you noticed two girls approaching your home.

“Mallory- You are walking so fast right now! How do your tiny feet do that?!” That same shrill voice said again. It was coming from a blonde woman who was slightly taller than the other. Her friend, Mallory, had slightly darker hair yet both were wearing all black. They almost looked like they were getting ready to go to a funeral.

“Cordelia is gonna be so pissed if she finds out we’re late to classes.”

“Since when do you care about being late?” Mallory asked. Her tone was much softer, warmer, even.

“Well- I… Fair point.” The blonde seemed to shut up for a moment after that. They seemed to know each other well enough to call each other out.

Mallory stopped at the first step to your porch and put on her best smile. She was beaming from ear to ear, and her friend seemed to smile much more awkwardly from behind her.

“Good morning!”

“Uh… Hi. Morning.” You said, trying to be polite but also caught off guard. You wanted to ask them both what they were doing on your property, but they seemed nice enough that they didn’t mean any potential harm.

“We live across the street! I’m Mallory, and this is my friend, Coco.”

“Sorry to bother you this early in the morning. You looked like you were having your Eat, Pray, Love moment and I told this one to leave you alone.” Coco replied with a small wave.

Before you could get a word in, Mallory cut in, “We both go to Robicheaux’s. There hasn’t been a new neighbor in a really long time from what the other girls said, let alone one that lives right across the street! So, we figured we’d come to welcome you to the neighborhood.”

“We who?” Coco chimed out, “Let’s be clear, this was all her doing. I had no personal investment in this.”

You chuckled lightly at their banter, and it only made you grin even wider. At that moment, you thought about all those people that had told you troublesome girls attended that place and they were all up to no good. Right now, all you could see were two adorable nerds trying to make a kind gesture.

“You aren’t bothering me at all,” You began, “It’s nice to meet you both. I’m Y/N. You can sit down if you’d like.”

“We really shouldn’t-“ Coco tried to say,

“We’d love to!” Mallory cut her off yet again as she made her way up onto your porch. The younger girl sat on the ledge while Coco took the chair next to you. As you opened up the conversation, the both of them explained that they’d been attending the school for a year and that everyone was lovely there despite the aspersions spread across town. They spoke of other girls they went to school with, of what was expected of them, and little anecdotes about their time there, though they never explained exactly what they were studying for.

“Today’s our first day back in session, actually,” Coco explained, “We live at Robie C’s on the off seasons too. A couple of us have become like a chic all girls family like that, which is pretty cool considering we’re all sort of outcasts where we’re all from.”

“I know the feeling. I’m so glad you all have each other.” You replied with a warm smile.

“We’ve talked so much about ourselves. Tell us about you!” Mallory suggested excitedly.

“Yeah, spill it. Why’d you come to New Orleans out of the blue?” Coco urged just as much. You laughed lightly at how intrigued they were, but you caved anyway and started to explain yourself.

“Well, I’m actually from (y/h/t). I was born and raised there, but I never really loved it. I wanted something new and something out of the ordinary since I was kind of an outcast myself back there. My real estate agent called up about an opportunity one day about a month ago, and I hopped on it the second it was offered to me and… Here I am.”

“Good for you for paving your own way. That is so big dick energy of you!” Coco complimented as she clapped her hands together in applause. Mallory clapped along with her as if to agree while all three of you laughed together about the wording. Though, Coco seemed to stop smiling altogether when she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. “Shit-” She hissed under her breath. You were confused as to why there was such a sudden change of tone, so you looked in the direction she’d glanced in.

Two new women were approaching your porch; One that looked closer in age to the girls in your company, and one who appeared to be slightly older than all of them. You couldn’t quite make them out yet, but they were very clearly getting closer. “What did I say? I knew this was gonna happen!”

“Surely she’s not gonna be that mad-” Mallory tried to reason with her companion. You were still completely out of the loop so you asked, “Wait- Who’s gonna be mad?”

“Coco St. Pierre Vanderbilt! Mallory Montgomery! What have I told you both about running off during Admissions Day?” The older woman said, staying at the edge of the porch. You still couldn’t catch a good glimpse of her quite yet, and it was even harder to see now that Coco had gotten up to block your view. “Ms. Goode, I had no part in this! It was all Mallory this time, I swear!”

“Way to throw your sister under the bus, Coco.” The other girl that accompanied the alleged ‘Ms. Goode’ retorted with a small smirk. She had straighter, darker blonde hair and a very kind smile.

“You have to believe me, Zoe! I was trying to do the right thing this time, I swear-”

“She’s right,” Mallory chimed in as she stood as well now, “It was my idea. I just wanted to welcome our new neighbor, that’s all. We were going to come right back.” Coco and Mallory both left the porch to go stand alongside their peers, and as they did so, you followed slightly behind because you were curious now. “Mallory, sweetie, that was a very kind gesture but please inform an instructor next time so we know where you are. This is the most important day of the year for the academy and you know that- Oh…”

The headmistress seemed to trail off when she saw you, and you felt much the same when you’d finally gotten to see her. Ms. Goode was so stunning that you were sure your heart was going to fly out of her chest. She had such a gentleness about her; Her golden curls rested softly against the frame of her pretty face and her deep brown eyes seemed to glitter when she gazed back at you. She was dressed in a floral, knee length dress that flowed freely around her form which seemed so different from what a normal boarding school head would wear. The look of concern she’d had completely melted away as she gave you the sweetest smile you’d ever seen before. It was a good thing that you’d been holding onto the railing of your porch considering that her very presence was making your knees weak.

“My apologies. I hope my girls haven’t disturbed your morning.” She addressed you with such a melodic tone.

“Wha- Oh! No, no, they’re fine. It was actually a nice surprise to have some visitors, and such polite ones, at that.” You assured her.

Coco, Mallory, and Zoe were all glancing at each other now with matching smirks as they watched you interact with their teacher.

“I’m relieved,” Ms. Goode said as she placed a hand on her chest, sighing as if a weight had been lifted from her, “Not many people are as kind to us here, so thank you for allowing them to your home.”

“Really, it’s no big deal,” You insisted, “You all are welcome here anytime. I’m just happy I have friendly neighbors.”

“I could say much of the same.” Ms. Goode replied. She was gazing at you with such warmth that you were sure you could get lost in her presence for hours. It was as if she couldn’t look away, her smile softening the longer you both stared back at each other and neither one of you wanted to let go of this just yet. You’d never seen anyone as beautiful as her in your entire lifetime and even though you didn’t know it yet, she was thinking the exact same thing about you.

“I uh- I don’t think I caught your name.” You said, cutting through the arising tension that was now hanging thick in the air. The older woman’s eyes lit up as she sort of laughed at herself. “Oh! Where are my manners- I’m Cordelia Goode, Headmistress at Robicheaux’s Girls Academy. And you are?”

“Y/N- Y/N Y/L/N.” As you introduced yourself, Cordelia took your hand and shook it very gently, though she didn’t seem to let go right away. She held it there as her thumb caressed over your skin as if to relish the physical connection she got to have with you in this moment.

“What a lovely name.” She said fondly. There was a sort of dreaminess in her voice that had you in some sort of trance, but the sound of giggling girls cut through that. It seemed to have caught Cordelia off guard just as much as she took her hand away. “I’m afraid I must get my girls back to the academy. Classes will be starting soon, but perhaps we will see each other again soon.”

“Sure thing. You know where to find me.”

Cordelia seemed to chuckle lightly and when you heard such a pretty sound, you realized how much her presence just seemed to shine a light on your whole morning. You hated to watch her walk away from you. There were so many things you wanted to say, to ask, to do just for her, and yet all you could do was stand there and politely wave goodbye. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Goode!” You called out as they all moved further from your porch. The headmistress glanced back in your direction and gave you the brightest smile.

“It was very nice to meet you as well, Ms. Y/L/N.” She called right back. Your name rolled right off her tongue and you swore that when she spoke it, everything felt right in the world.

Maybe the people in town were right. Perhaps that building across the street really was a school for witches. Maybe they’d come over just to put a spell on you with their magical powers. Or, maybe they were just normal women trying to be polite to the new girl in town and all of the rumors were the rambling dramatizations of paranoid, closed minded people. There was really only one thing on your mind now, and you knew that it was absolutely certain;

You couldn’t wait to see Cordelia Goode again. FIND MORE GAY SHIT HERE

#cordelia goode x reader #ahs imagine #coven imagine #cordelia x reader #sarah paulson #wlw imagine #here ya'll gooooo

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iamadequate1717 · 8 months

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The Breakups

Stede and Ed have three breakups under their belt right now: Ed initiated two of them, and Stede is currently getting blame for one of those. The finale is releasing tomorrow, so hopefully this turns into a moot point, but I'm defending Stede anyway!

Part 2: The Breakups

Note that Part 1 is here:

This 2x7 breakup is likely to be over in 2x8 (.... I say less than 24 hours to the premier and trying to act like I'm a prophet...), and with rule of three, I'm going to say that's going to be their last one. Any more Will-They-Or-Won't-They would be tedious, especially since at that point, we'd be at about one-third of the series with them "broken up," and they need to start communicating as a couple already, but this oscillation is what makes OFMD unique isn't it?

Their breakups are about them as characters: the first time, Ed leaves with Calico Jack; Ed realizes his devotion to Stede but Stede has his fears confirmed... which rolls into the second breakup (Stede doesn't have those fears resolved early enough, and Ed feels like a discarded plaything), which rolls into the third. They need to address the fears and insecurities together and not spiral out on their own. I'm guessing (and using what HBO has shown us) that Ed gets his assurances early, and hopefully, we can put an end to this internal catastrophizing so they can face the world together.

Love, the emotion, may be easy, just like breathing, but a couple is still two people with different experiences and different needs, but real life relationships take work (...I say as a happy single person...). Romcoms end with the First Kiss, fanfics end with the First Sex, but OFMD seems to be carrying us through the growing pains of the relationship. Happily Ever After isn't a magical state that is achieved once you tell each other that you love the other, but so many pieces of media treat that as the end, but OFMD is treating it as a middle. Often times, it feels like the couple is just playing musical chairs, and if they're a couple when time runs out, they're going to be a couple forever!

In S2 speculation, it was not infrequent that people were imagining that the S2 cliffhanger would be Ed and Stede laying eyes on each other for the first time with a fade to black. That isn't interesting. We don't want these two to run out the clock.

But I want to look at the breakups specifically. Let's look at 2x7. Spanish Jackie lays down the truth to Ed, but he doesn't seem to latch onto the big point: does Stede know that this regular guy, no more pirate, part isn't a phase?

"He said at the academy..." Stede was dealing with other things, and from what he saw, Ed went back to piracy. To be fair also, the Revenge doesn't do much piracy itself, so Stede hasn't seen Ed's dissatisfaction first hand. A lot of audience anger toward Stede is an audience who saw the environment 2x1 and 2x2, who saw Ed in the gravy basket, who saw Ed's bored asides with Izzy. They're treating Stede as a member of the audience rather than as a character within the story. Stede didn't see any of this. Most of his interactions with Ed was cutesy fluff. Stede knows he likes being near Ed, but they haven't spent much time talking about deeper topics.

On what Ed does with the breakup in 2x7, I'm bringing up this line from 2x4, when they briefly spoke like adults:

Ed shutting down the conversation and not letting Stede give explanations isn't fair to Stede, but it continued with the third breakup: in 2x7, Ed leaves Stede with some emotional whiplash. Stede was just having one of the best days of his life and was met with an Ed who refused to explain what was going on. When you look at what just Stede saw, it was utterly baffling! My post on that:

And then Stede insulted Ed's fish, thereby making him History's Greatest Monster, amiright?

Ed basically screams that fishermen and pirates are so different, it would be like if a mermaid and a bird tried to have a marriage. It's a self fulfilling prophecy at that point: cut Stede out completely so they have no chance to grow their lives with room for the romantic relationship. (And really, for those criticizing Stede, how do you respond correctly off the cuff to a random statement like that?)

This is devastating: Stede has completely cut himself out of his old life. He left Barbados for Ed, not for piracy. He laid out his feelings, and he made himself vulnerable to Ed. Just hours after being intimate for the first time, he's coldly told it was a mistake, and his sad face at that statement:

He doesn't run off in tears to have a breakdown like I would! He instead is reasonable with Ed: they can define their relationship however they want, but Ed cuts off any possibility of any relationship.

Stede does not know what's going on. I'm really confused what people who are "so mad!" at Stede here would expect of him, provided they only know what Stede knows in universe. Stede just wants to talk and work on their relationship together. Ed wants to start a new career, and more specifically, a life completely separate from Stede.

No, Stede doesn't respond to that pirate line, but he gave the immediate response to the part he cared about more (and likely replayed the conversation over and over in his head later with improved responses, as we do).

Stede does not run after Ed here, but why would he? He's told the audience directly that he thinks Ed is better off without him.

Lucius tells him, "Maybe the time he spent with you is the best it's ever going to get for him," and again, Stede directly tells the audience that he doesn't believe that.

This is not a man with high self esteem. Remember him being ready to be executed and being told he's the worst pirate captain ever? He thought that was fair.

Ed cuts off their relationship, and Stede thinks he deserves that, that Ed realized he was better off without Stede. So Stede lets him go.

On their breakups, the first one was short (Ed's back the same episode!), but the second happened at a season break so there was more time for fandom speculation. We all saw the theories, and a too common thread was "Will Ed forgive Stede??", and we saw the speculation that Stede should prostrate himself before Ed and beg for forgiveness, no matter how long it took. It simplifies the narrative, but is that the show we're watching and is that fair to Stede?

Stede instantly forgave Ed after choosing Calico Jack over him in front of everyone; the second breakup was longer and they had more time to do the whole negative self talk thing, but Stede still did deserve more grace, didn't he? With Season 2 (and its truncated run time!), we saw the criticisms that Ed forgave Stede too easily, but did he? They're on friendly terms, but there is still a wall.

See Ed's time in the Gravy Basket. The first three episodes were the Soup Show. It symbolized family or warmth or whatever (...I say as a robot who doesn't understand human feelings...), so it's a standout that Ed calling the soup poison is his feelings about accepting that warm domesticity, not something literal about Hornigold. He opened himself up to someone, and all he got was heartbreak and confirmation he was unlovable (and he was too scared to do anything about it).

And this is followed almost immediately by the baller line about a man being brought down in the place where he had definitely chosen Stede for the first time.

In the Gravy Basket, we had the metaphor on the feet (no shoes = death, shoes = life... there is good meta running around, but I'm too lazy to find it). Ed gains one shoe (putting him between life and death) when Stede starts to be led to his body, and Stede brings life to him (shoe shot!).

Stede is an anchor to life at this low point, but that doesn't mean that Ed completely forgives.

In Season 2, we don't have the Gloves as Metaphor with Ed anymore (half gloves when he meets Stede, no gloves at the academy, full gloves when he goes full kraken), but he still has other cues on how his feeling about Stede. We don't have the casual touches of Season 1, and everything feels "off." We're lacking in the tenderness, and Ed still is keeping his distance.

Ed and Stede have held hands this season, but not in a romantic way.

When we get to the romance, Ed doesn't put his hands on Stede's skin/hair like Stede does for him (production stills don't count!). In the third kiss, he pushes Stede's collar up as a barrier.

With what the audience was invited in for their love scene, Stede is visually more exposed and ready, and Ed is more distanced and closed off (that is NOT to say that Ed wasn't into it...).

Everything is close to what it should be, but it's not the perfect expression of love exploding across the screen. Something's off. The audience can pick up on it, and Stede, our autistic king, may subconsciously feeling it, but he is taking a lot of it at face value. (They slept together! They're a couple and an unbroken team now!)

On The Sex, is this the first time that Stede has received (verbal) concerns about his welfare in the series? He was told he was a monster, a plague, a defiler of beautiful things, and he's just been trying to live his life with no one refuting that even in a small way.

Sure, Ed said his fake heads idea didn't suck.

Sure... uh.... Ed said he wasn't a girl?

He gets some affirmation, they do something to help them feel alive almost losing each other, and he's intimate for the first time with the man he loves. Everything is going great! But everything instantly flips 180 degrees a few hours later. He's been holding it together well most of the season, even after thinking that Ed is literally dead, and y'all shouldn't judge him for a few mildly harsh words said without thinking. He feels foolish and used and heartbroken, and his bad day has just begun.

I hope I can get some thoughts up on the last part of 2x7 before the finale, but until then, here's some bonus sad face Stede during their first breakup, where Ed broke up with him in front of everyone! Everyone saw it! ("Never left" psh, likely story.)

How can you not be sad when he's sad??

We'll see what the finale does with them soon. Overall, I'm happy so far with Ed/Stede in Season 2. The rest of it... eh, Lucius/Pete is my happy spot. I'm hoping we get a good Ed/Stede payoff in the finale, and that we get to see more of their growth as a couple in Season 3 (manifesting!). It's rare that a show/movie/book/etc focused on just a romance sticks with the couple after that "finally together!" spot, and I want to see what this writing team does with that settled romance.

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #stede bonnet #stede defense #stede did nothing wrong #blackbonnet #gentlebeard

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