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writing-mlm · 4 months

Note

Hey pookie, can I please request a Damian x male reader where they're enemies/rivals to lovers? Like both of them are the top students in their college and they tried to top the other by getting a better grade and showing it off to the other?

(can I please have soft damian too? Please 🙏)

Summa Cum shut the fuck up [D.W]

Summary: Stanford was your dream and some rich kid wasn't going to stop that, but damn those party lights make him look really nice. Pairing: Damian Wayne x Male reader WC: 5.2k a/n: ngl in the first draft the roommate died and it was so left-field field I had to rewrite the whole thing

Summa Cum Lade and Valedictorian, that was the only option.

Having been your high school valedictorian, gotten into the national honor society, and taking every single AP class you could all four years just for a chance at being at the top. Over seventy applications across the U.S. and every single one had a large accepted letter attached to it. It was your moment— Stanford was yours.

You’d taken out loans for whatever your scholarships didn’t cover, like your meal plan and housing. But it didn't matter, you were prepared for anything and everything. Nothing was about to come between you and that number-one spot.

Until you saw Damian Wayne.

He lived across from you with your roommate's best friend, Jaime Reyes. But the two were painfully different and Jaime would more often than not hang out in the common area just to get away from their suffocating dorm. As such, their dorm door was painfully barren in the hallway filled with decorated doors. Not that Jaime didn’t try, it’s just Wayne would take it down as soon as he noticed. Not to mention Wayne had a thing for glaring at anyone who dared to knock on his door. Never mind that Jaime had been making friends left and right.

You didn’t care at first, why should you? Some rich kid who doesn’t want anyone to steal his valuables. It’s whatever, not like it’s going to affect you.

Until it did.

The two of you happened to have most of the same classes, being the same major and all. And at first, you didn’t pay any mind to him, he was just another one of the kids in the sea of students until the first marking period came around.

And his name was above yours.

You remembered staring at your screen, looking at the 99.7% right below the 99.8%. It was the first time since elementary school that you had come in second. It made this feeling bubble up and you nearly had a breakdown. That feeling was pure hatred. This— this stupid rich boy born with a silver spoon in his mouth was not about to take away your goal.

“Looks like you got competition,” Jaime had laughed from his dorm. You’d only heard it because you needed some fresh air before you tried to scoop your brain out.

“The gap won’t be as small next time,” Wayne replied as Jaime opened the door. The two of you made eye contact while Jaime awkwardly tried to excuse himself to the bathroom.

You’d be damned if you let some rich kid who probably bought their way in be better than you.

You spent all of your free time at the school library or in the common area at night, studying and memorizing. Homework and projects were done in record time and you absolutely used the most out-of-office hours with your professors. All of whom were confused as to why their top student was coming in without needing any actual help.

Test after test, you saw that the top two students were you and him. Your first finals were tough though. You probably averaged an hour's worth of sleep that entire week and drowned yourself in whatever textbooks or worksheets you could to prepare yourself.

“(L/n),” Wayne greeted you as the two of you were in line at the TSA. Break officially started the next day but due to your finals being done, you got to leave earlier.

“Wayne.” It’s a little surprising seeing the son of a billionaire fly commercial, let alone with Spirit Airlines but to each their own. You didn’t care enough to give it another thought. His eyes wander over you and he quietly hums. It doesn’t look like you’ve packed anything other than clothes and toiletries. And your electronics.

He isn’t stupid. He knows you’re overworking yourself to be the best in school. He knows you obsessively check over the dean's list, that you probably have an alarm to make it a point to never drop below the number one spot for the freshmen. Overall, you rank three, which you’ll take. There are smarter people than you, just not anyone in your year.

A part of him wanted to relax a bit, and make himself get a few questions wrong to ensure you remain in that number one spot. Maybe then you’ll ease up on yourself and not look like a zombie every single day. But he can’t bring himself to. It feels like pity and Damian Wayne doesn’t do pity.

Besides, he’s never had someone to go head to head with him who wasn’t almost a decade older than him. To him, this rivalry was fun. To you, it was a means to an end. You felt that deep within you, you needed to beat him. If you weren’t willing to sacrifice your time and energy for that then what was the point in high school of isolating yourself?

As the line moves up, you cover a yawn by rolling your neck. This stupid red-eye flight is worse than any final you’ve taken.

You’re beyond tired and you’re sure your expression displayed nothing but that but you were counting on that nap in the flight to fix that.

Thankfully, there’s not much of a wait as you’re at your gate less than half an hour later, checking in.

“Oh,” The man at the desk pauses as he scans your ticket. You panic a little, did you get the dates wrong? The time? The location. Shit, maybe those hours of lost sleep had gotten to you. “You’ve been upgraded from economy to first class. Enjoy your flight.” He smiles and hands you back the ticket. You thank him and take your seat, silently happy you were going to sleep in first class.

—

Returning to Stanford from winter break, you were happy to be back. You felt wasted— almost hollow not studying at home, as if nothing else mattered except studying. But your family didn’t let you get much studying in, after four months apart they missed you. A lot. And you went back to where your family was from to visit them instead of going home so you were never given a moment of

solace unless you were asleep. Your siblings and your extended family were always around you, asking you about college, how they’d seen your grades, and how exciting it was that you were in such a huge school.

It also felt a little weird without having Wayne there. In a weird sort of way, you missed glancing at his results to see if he got higher than you. To share those smug glances as you passed each other to the showers. Like it or not, he’d become a staple in your day-to-day life on campus.

You found yourself daydreaming about him being there as your family had parties and celebrations for various reasons. The holidays, your return home, and two birthdays happened in those two months you were away from campus. And they were sad to see you go for another four months.

Of course, you returned with a bunch of gifts and mementos from your family.

Wayne noticed it first, he saw you return to your dorm actually looking human. He’d gotten so used to the eyebags and the pain medications you’d take because the headaches were getting too bad, and the early signs of hand tremors you tried to shake off. A part of him was glad you were taken care of during the break, he’d seen a lot of people break down in Gotham for less and just hoped he didn’t have to deal with that at Stanford.

Maybe he just didn’t want that to happen to you.

But he doesn’t say anything.

Instead, he watches as you fall into the same pattern. And no one around you seems to give a shit that you’re basically slowly killing yourself. He resents Frankie in a way, as a roommate and a friend of yours, he has the most power in that situation to force some sense into you. Instead, he jokes and laughs at your state, unaware of how damaging it truly is.

“All that studying won’t help you much, (L/n).” Wayne says as he walks past you the second week back from break, two textbooks tucked under his arm and a cup of water in his hand. You glare at him but only for a moment before going back to reading. For some reason, you can’t really focus knowing he’s around you. Somewhere, probably watching you. Hearing him sit a table away, you check the time for the first time that night.

4:34 am

What was he doing up so late? Normally, you had the common area to yourself at this time. No one in their right mind would be awake at 4:30. Maybe he was feeling the stress of the new classes, too. Or maybe Jaime was snoring too loudly and he figured since he was awake he should study, too.

Either way, he wasn’t going to take away from your study time. He already occupied a space in your mind against your will. And that was more than enough.

Feeling a yawn crawling its way up your throat you swallow it back down and reach for your cup of energy drink mixed with coffee when you feel something hit your neck. You can’t tell what though, as the second you feel it, you’re out like a light. You do feel a hand save your head from hitting the hard table, though. But it was the last thing you remembered from that night.

—

“You’re finally awake!” Frankie, your roommate, greets you as he walks into your dorm with a slushie and cupcake in hand. You’re sitting, blinking at the floor trying to remember how you ended up in your room.

“Did I start sleepwalking?” You croak out, your mouth dry and throat tight. Frankie only grins and sits on his bed, watching as your face scrunches at the pain. “God, did you leave the window open again?” Blinking over to the window, you see it wide open and groan, throwing yourself back down to the bed.

“Wanna head down and grab lunch? It ends in like twenty,” He asks, grabbing his phone from his pocket and checking the time. “Nineteen minutes until lunch is over.” So it’s almost three. You’d slept most of the day but it was a Friday so you didn’t have any classes. You didn’t miss any classes, thank god.

Then again, you could’ve been studying.

“I’m good,” Standing up, you crack your back and sigh. Not that you’d admit it, but you needed that nap. “Gotta shower and study.” Frankie frowns, watching as you collect your stuff before leaving the dorm. As you leave, he sees Wayne exiting his room and the two of them make eye contact. He shakes his head and Wayne turns to watch as you leave before nodding to him and leaving.

Frankie frowns as he watches you leave. You’re stumbling and still trying to shake the sleep off, unaware that your left pants leg was halfway up your thigh and the right one was somehow twisted around. He grumbles and rushes to catch up to Wayne.

Half an hour later and you’re inside the library. There’s one seat you’ve always sat at and you’re glad to see it’s empty; seeing as you’d be spending most of the day there.

Setting your stuff on the table that’s pressed against the wall and diving back into where you left off the night before. It’s perfect in the library, there’s hardly anyone inside and the temperature finally isn’t bone freezing or blistering hot. Your headphones are on and there’s no one around, so you’re free of any possible distractions. Not to mention not tired after your ten-hour nap.

About twenty minutes into studying, you can feel someone behind you; staring. But it’s probably the librarian so you don’t pay it any mind and continue on with your work. The feeling stays for another minute or so, and it’s making you a little uneasy, the Liberian would’ve moved on by that point. Hell, you’ve moved on to your ten-page essay, having enough of reading from the illegal copy of the textbook you downloaded.

Maybe you should just turn around. It’s probably someone asking for the wifi password.

Another minute passed and suddenly a slight shadow was cast over your laptop. You can see the outline of the person and go to groan when Wayne sets a cup of your favorite drink and lunch down to your left. It effectively shuts you up, halting the annoyed groan you were fixing to let out.

A nice gesture from him? That’s… strangely nice.

“Thank you…?” Sliding the headphones off, you turn to see him but he’s already walking away. Weird. Looking at the food, you almost— almost smile seeing that the food had those protective films covering it. The film was covered in a thin layer of condensation, having been hot but lunch had since ended. Had he been looking for you all that time?

There’s also a note on it. Grabbing it, you flip it over to read it.

You need to eat and maintain a good sleep schedule to remain at the top.

That’s all it says, but that’s all you need. The paper can wait and you basically know all the material by heart already. A break couldn’t hurt.

—

“A hundred and two. Suck my dick, Wayne!” You grin, slapping your test down in front of him before he can pack his things up. He looks at the paper and then at you. His eyes flicker to the extra credit questions he didn’t have time to finish and it only makes you smile harder.

“(L/n),” He greets with faux enthusiasm. His eyes flicker across your body in one motion that makes it look as if he is looking down at the paper again. “Don’t let it go to your head.” He’s reluctant to show you his score but you had seen the giant red 98 from three seats behind him.

“Just let me know if you need a tutor,” Taking the paper back you wiggle it in his face one last time before leaving him alone and you hear him scoff as you walk off to your next class.

It’s mid-February now and while California doesn’t get as cold as the more Northern states, it is a little chilly especially now that it’s started to rain.

There’s not much wind, surprisingly enough, so you’re able to keep your umbrella stable as you wait for the campus bus to arrive. While you’re waiting, listening to some music and enjoying the clouds as they roll by, Wayne walks over. He doesn’t say anything, but he stands next to you.

His hood is wet and he doesn’t have an umbrella, but he’s far from affected by it. You guess Gotham is normally colder than SanFran, plus you heard it rains a lot there. Actual acid rain. But you doubt that.

“If this is you asking for me to tutor you…” He glares at you and then rolls his eyes.

“I’m the last person on this campus in need of a tutor.” He snips, his posture getting a little straighter as he speaks.

“And the only person who needs an umbrella.” You chide. He doesn’t argue that fact and you look down the road. The bus isn’t even in sight, and he’ll probably catch a cold if he doesn’t get dry soon. But if he’s sick he can’t do well— no, you need him at his best. Winning because your opponent cannot put their best foot forward isn’t winning.

That’s probably why he’d given you the food.

Internally, you sigh and step closer to him. Just enough that the both of you are covered by the umbrella.

“Thanks,” He mutters, pulling his wet hood down. The red Stanford hoodie is absolutely drenched but it’ll dry soon. Hopefully faster than the cold bus. His hair is a little wet, too. You never noticed the curl to his hair before. It looks nice. You hum and scroll on your phone with your free hand.

“By the way,” He starts after five minutes of silence between the two of you. “I got a hundred on Professor Guetta’s exam.” The two of you have that professor, but not at the same time. Gritting your teeth, you have half a mind to move your umbrella but decide against it.

“Don’t let it go to your ego, Wayne.” You’d gotten a 98, never mind the fact that you overslept and missed a good ten minutes and never got to finish the exam.

“Never, (L/n).” He hums as the bus finally pulls up.

Shutting the umbrella, you all but push past him to get inside and away from him. Never mind the fact that you can hear him snickering quietly.

—

“99.” Wayne shows you his paper before you can even stand up. You stare at the paper and sigh. The two of you had been having this feud for two years now. One might think that as juniors in college, you’d give it a rest, maybe finally relax and actually put this… academic one-upping a rest. And you almost did.

But going into junior year you learned who your roommate was. Somehow, by some stupid chance, Wayne had managed to be your roommate until senior year. And sure, you could ask to be transferred to a different room but it’s about the principal. If you ask to be moved then he won. And he wasn’t about to win against you— at anything. Which is why you always wake up at five in the morning. Thirty minutes before he does. It used to be later in the day, but he started waking up earlier just to spite you.

And you’re too prideful to let that happen.

“Same,” Showing him your paper, he grabs it and flips through both of them. You watch, trying to find the question the two of you had gotten wrong. Apparently, it was the same question. It makes you feel a little better, knowing it was probably an advanced question meant to trick students.

He hands you the test back and you stand up.

“Won’t happen again, though.” You say as you slip the paper into your bag. He watches and cringes— don’t you have a folder for fucks sake?

“Because I’ll get better marks than you, yes.” He adds and you suck your teeth, looking up at him.

“Just worry about making sure your pretty face doesn’t get wrinkles, Wayne.” You tease and catch up to Frankie and Jaime at the door. They actually still lived on the same floor as the two of you, so you hung out whenever you weren’t studying. Which, admittedly, was less these days. Sometime during finals freshman year, you’d overworked yourself to the point of almost developing hypertension.

Frankie greets you first, offering you one of the donuts he’d stolen from his job. Jaime waves, his mouth too filled with his own donut to say anything.

“Some of us are heading to that secret tunnel under the south side of campus,” Frankie explains as the three of you walk to the courtyard for your hour-long gap. Wayne has a class, though. So he doesn’t join— not that he ever would, but sometimes Jaime offers. “Caddie, that Kappa Alpha Theta girl who’s majoring in political science—“

“Your ex-girlfriend,” You add and he huffs.

“That too. She managed to get access to that tunnel and is planning a party. Booze provided. Friday night.”

“I dunno,” You frown, using your jacket as a blanket to lay your head on. “I got a pretty shit grade for the last test in Jenkins class and I gotta study.” The two sigh loudly and you roll your eyes.

“You gotta study every single day!” Frankie reminds you, holding his phone above your face so you can see Caddie’s Instagram story. “One little party won’t hurt.” Looking at Jaime, you see

him pleading and let out a grumbled “Fine.” that the boys cheered at.

“What did you get anyway?” Jaime asks once they stop cheering.

“Lemme guess,” Frankie grins. “You finally got a 60?” You’d actually kill yourself.

“No,” Rolling your eyes, you stare at a cloud that’s shaped oddly like a dog shitting. “I got a 90.”

“I fucking hate you.”

—

Friday rolls around and Frankie all but breaks your door down as you’re getting some last-minute work done. Nothing major, just some homework you’d been putting off and finally got to it with your downtime.

“Does your incessant knocking ever work?” Wayne asks when he opens the door after two minutes of the knocking. He doesn’t say anything but it reminds him of his brothers. He’d been doing the same, but you recognized his work as some work you’d completed the week prior. What a slacker.

“Not really,” He laughs, shuts your notebook, and tosses it to your bed. “Let’s go! Jaime has the car.”

“You’re going to that party in the run-down tunnel?” Wayne raises an eyebrow as you rise from your chair, twisting your back to get out any cracks. He’d noticed your outfit from your normal loungewear but didn’t think anything of it. “Yeah, wanna come?” Frankie grins and checks the time. “We got time to wait for you, if you want.” While you hope he doesn’t, you sort of want him to. Maybe it’s so you both will lose time that could’ve been spent doing work, maybe it’s so you can have someone you know won’t do anything stupid at the party there. Maybe you just enjoy being around him. But Wayne looks between the two of you before he rolls his eyes and gets off the bed.

“I’ll be ready in five.”

And he was.

The theme was Rave in a Cave, or whatever that meant. So you were inclined to wear neon clothes or something flashy. But you didn’t have anything of the sort. As such, a pair of shorts and a sweater will do. Wayne opts for a white T-shirt and black pants.

“I won’t drink,” You offer as the four of you get into Frankie’s car. “You three can.”

“I don’t partake in drinking,” Wayne adds as he puts on his seatbelt making you feel compelled to put yours on as well. “Especially in these settings.” He almost physically turns his nose up at the idea of drinking booze provided by people he doesn’t know, let alone trust.

“Respect that, totally,” Frankie pulls out of his parking spot while Jaime plays some music on the speakers. He glances at the two of you but you’re busy on your phone and Wayne is making note of where the car goes to notice. Jaime smacks his arm and makes a motion that makes Frankie laugh.

It’s not a long drive to the tunnel— but it does take a minute to find parking.

“Why don’t you drink, if I might ask?” Wayne asks as the two of you trail behind Frankie and Jaime. They’re recording some videos and taking pictures that they’ll occasionally make the two of you join in.

“I hate the taste,” You shrug. “And addiction isn’t something I’d want to fall into. You?” He moves to the side as a couple runs down the pavement wearing bright clothes and clearly already tipsy.

“I’d prefer to be sober when I’m away from home.” He returns to his spot and his eyes flicker to the entrance of the tunnel. “So my actions aren’t due to an inebriated state of mind.” Humming, the four of you are allowed inside and there are a lot of people.

Half of the student body must be inside the tunnel. It stretches for a couple of miles but gets blocked off by a wire gate. The walls are chipped and almost rotten looking with graffiti and posters messily placed along. There are color lights strung up along the walls and if they went out the place would be pitch black.

The DJ is one of the music majors, you recognize him from one of the random people who followed you when your high school posted the school you were going to. He’s playing some loud ass music with extra bass that makes you cringe.

“Here,” Wayne hands you one of the glow sticks turned into a necklace and you thank him, slipping it over your neck. He has one but it’s around his wrist instead. Frankie and Jaime went separate ways almost immediately— they asked first and you just nodded and went to a corner.

How the fuck do you even act at parties.

“Hi-hi!” A woman stands in front of you, dressed for a rave with a lot of Kandi bracelets running up her arms and those weed glasses. She’s in one of your classes.

“Hey,” You offer a smile.

“Saw you’re nervous! Rave virginity!!!” She laughs and looks along her arms. “Here, this is called a Kandi trade— but you don’t give anything.” She starts to pull off a large red and black cuff and motions for you to grab her hand. Against your better judgment, you do and she does some hand movements before she transfers the cuff to your arm.

“That’s cool! Thank you!” She laughs again and nods, leaving you in the corner to do more trades.

An hour or so passes and Wayne spots you in the sea of people. He sees you have a lot more jewelry on than when you first came and you’re enjoying yourself. Dancing and singing along to the music, jumping with others, and such. But he’s been keeping a close eye and knows you haven’t drunk anything. Not even the water bottle that was offered to you some time ago.

He feels at ease with that and his eyes linger on Jaime. He’s impressed that… bug is keeping cool at the party and he sees Frankie laughing with some of the chem majors by the DJ, requesting songs.

He’s been stuck to a wall for the entirety of the party, he didn’t even want to go in the first place. But he figured it would be best if he did, something in him told him that. And he understood why when he saw your face go from joyful to sour.

His eyes scan the people around you and he sees something yelling at you. Their face was red from the alcohol and the anger they were feeling. He pushes himself from the wall and makes his way over to you.

“Is there an issue?” He asks you, completely ignoring the loud guy. You give him a thank you look and shake your head.

“Just some drunk idiot thinking I’m trying to hit on their date,” You snicker and he raises an eyebrow, seeing the drunk person now tongue-deep with their date. He looks away, almost embarrassed for them.

“How fun,” He smiles and you laugh. He thinks that’s the first time he’s actually made you laugh from something that wasn’t you beating him.

“Wayne, you dance?” You ask as the song changes to something made to move to. He shakes his head, unable to look away from you. “Me neither! But we should!”

He agrees, forgetting his home training and dancing along with you. He’s sure at some point someone will hurt their ankle from the jumping and the very uncoordinated movements but he doesn’t care. Anything to relish in this moment.

At some point the song changes and you're out of breath, dragging him to a wall to sit against. He wants to protest but he sees you’re sitting on fabric and not the ground directly and joins you. The little area is tucked into a divet in the wall, your backs to a cold, metal service door. So no one could step on either one of you.

“Hey, Wayne.” You call and he looks over. His eyes trace over your face as you’re not smiling as hard but the excitement in your eyes hasn’t died out. Your forehead is covered in sweat and he has to stop himself from wiping it off. “I didn’t know you’d be such a nice party partner. We outta do this more often.” You look at him and admire his eyes. In truth, you’ve never given him a real look before.

Sure, you know his eyes are green. But you never noticed how green, or how in this light you can see the rings of blue in them. Or how there’s tiny little white scars on the exposed skin of his neck. Or the scar above his right eyebrow.

“We should,” He agrees and wow, you’re really close. You can feel his breath ghost over your lips. Tentatively, you look down at his lips as he licks them then back to his eyes.

“Should we?” You grin, swiping your tongue over your lips.

“Yes.” He nods and closes the gap. His hand holds your neck and you hold his collar. At that moment, as the butterflies are alive and well in your stomach, as his lips press to yours, as his grip pulls you tighter, you’re so glad he agreed to go to the party. Even happier than this action— that kissing him was a completely sober choice made by the both of you.

This will either be the best or the worst decision of your life.

—

A year after the party, Damian enters the dorm after finishing up his last class for the day. You’d been on your phone, checking up on your internship application before setting it down when he walked in.

“I got a hundred on the fake final.” You grin, reaching over to pull him down onto your bed. He lets you, stopping his fall by planting his hands on either side of your head. He shifts his legs so one is between yours and the other is locking your left leg between his. You’ll never understand his upper body strength, but you’d definitely never complain about it.

“Me too.” He smirks and kisses the corner of your mouth. You frown and grab his face, pulling him in for a proper kiss. He adjusts himself on the bed by moving one arm to slide underneath you and you love that feeling. Your hands slide from the sides of his face to his shoulders, pinching the fabric to try and get it off.

“Lock the door next time,” Jaime groans as he walks into the room. Damian pulls away and glares at him. You roll your head to see him and not very discreetly try and wave him away. “Aye, I’m just here for your charger. Mine broke and you’re rich.” He holds his hands up, showing Damian’s charger and the two of you watch him leave.

“I’m getting the higher score on the final,” You tell him once the door shuts. He looks at you, an eyebrow raised before he gets up to lock the door.

“Doubtful,” He grins, returning to his previous spot on top of you. His eyes scanned all over your face and his hand traced along your hairline. “I’m still on top.” His eyes flicker to yours and you scoff.

“Pretty sure you bottom,”

“Just this once.”

#x male reader #x reader #damian wayne x male reader #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x you

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thebeast-dennis-etcetera · 3 months

Text

The Odds

Your day had been filled with meetings between attorneys and paperwork that you had been procrastinating on, so definitely hectic to say the least. It was getting slowly getting colder as the clouds rolled in and you only needed to finish your rough draft on the settlement you were planning on proposing to the opposing attorney before you could spend some much needed time with your boyfriend.

Jethro’s day wasn’t any less busier with his investigative work and uncooperative witness’ but you both had agreed to at least meet for a little while at your local cafe by lunch. You took the initiative of ordering two coffees as you waited, knowing Jethro wouldn’t have a problem with it.

You hadn’t been sipping on your coffee for more than a minute before your eyes caught someone starring. He was sitting at a nearby booth, well dressed in a suit, perfectly combed hair and shot you what he probably thought was a flirty smile. You just smiled at his attempt and rolled your eyes before picking up a menu and looking through it. It was not like Jethro to be late to your dates, or anything for that matter which means he was either in danger or had his head so deep in a project, he forgot to use his phone.

As you pulled your phone out to give him a ring, the suited gentleman from before took a seat across from you.

“Sorry. I just couldn’t watch from afar any longer. Waiting for someone?” he gestured to Jethro’s coffee. Normally you would’ve shoo’ed off someone trying to flirt with you but Jethro hadn’t shown up yet and it would be a fun scene to watch once him scared the shit out of his subordinate. Yes, you knew the famous Special Agent Tony Dinozzo. Only because you remember seeing a group photo in Jethros house and he explained that they were his team. He told you about DiNozzo’s flirtatious behavior but what were the odds?

“Yes. He hasn’t shown yet.”

“Well he just doesn’t know what he’s missing,” he answered with a sly smile, reminiscent of a fox trying to convince the little rabbit that he wouldn’t eat them.

“So you a pancake and coffee type of gal or eggs over easy with a side of fruit?” he inquired, taking a seat.

You didn’t get a chance to continue the small talk before your phone rang, lighting up the screen and your favorite picture of Jethro popping up. You had secretly taken the photo while he was concentrated on working on the boat. You knew DiNozzo saw your screen as well and visibly stiffened as you answered.

“Hey hun. Almost thought you were gonna stand me up,” you joked.

“Why am I looking at Agent DiNozzo in my seat?” he asked, slight irritation in his voice. You looked over towards the front of the diner and spotted him standing there, frown evident on his face. You smiled and gave him a wave before hanging up.

DiNozzo looked over his shoulder as Jethro made his way over, immediately getting up and smoothing his suit over and laughing nervously.

“You know Agent Gibbs,” he stated more than asked and you just nodded, small smile on your lips.

“I do Agent DiNozzo.”

His eyes got wide as he put together the fact that you already knew who he was and went to say something but Jethro interrupted him.

“What are you doing here DiNozzo?”

“Uh, nothing boss. Just saw her sitting here by herself for a while, thought I’d just make some small talk-

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Jethro advised, giving his agent an out.

“Yes, definitely. I think McGee is actually calling me.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle silently at the situation before you as DiNozzo practically ran off and Jethro leaned down to give you a greeting kiss on the cheek before taking his rightful place across from you.

“He’s right ya know. I was sitting here for quite a while.”

He gave you a look and took a sip of his probably now luke warm coffee.

“There was traffic. And I wasn’t expecting you to find someone else to have breakfast with.”

The way he almost pouted had you falling in love with him all over again. The way he looked at you with his head cocked a little to the side, playful almost, gave you butterflies every time.

“I missed you,” you told him, reaching for his hand and he intertwined his fingers with yours as the waitress came over with a hot pot.

“The usual pancakes for the lady and another coffee for you?” she presumed, looking to Jethro. He confirmed it with a nod and she topped off both of your coffees before leaving.

“You know I was bound to run into one of your agents since we meet here all the time,” you told him.

“If you have time after, I can take you to meet the rest of the team if you’d like?”

You beamed at his invitation and squeezed his hand in excitement.

“I’d be honored.”

He smiled and you two enjoyed your brunch together.

#gibbs x reader #leroy jethro gibbs #ncis #ncis fanfiction #agent gibbs #mark harmon #ncis request #jethro gibbs x reader #ncis imagine #jethro gibbs fanfiction

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firstdivisiongirl · 6 months

Note

Hiiioo!! Can I have trafalgar law with #13? Fluff and fem reader. Thanks 🎄

Hi and Merry (Early) Christmas. This was a little hard at first. These were two things that didn’t seem to go together, but hopefully I gave you something you will love. Enjoy!

Day 16: Law - Santa is Real, Who Do You Think Brings the Presents?

It was Christmas time, which meant everyone on the Polar Tang (even Law begrudgingly) was decorating. Since you were all busy being a pirate crew, you waited till Christmas Eve to decorate.

You noticed Bepo leaving the port hole open, and whenever someone came over to close it, he told them not to. “Hey Bepo,” you said, approaching him, “we should probably close the port hole. We don’t want a draft to come in or anything.”

“No,” he yelled, blocking you from going up the metal ladder to close it, “we have to let Santa get in! If we don’t leave it open, he’ll skip the submarine.”

“Oh honey, Santa isn’t real.”

“Of course, Santa is real, who do you think brings the presents?” Law, you boyfriend, injected into your conversation, “Bepo, can I borrow Y/N for one minute?”

Bepo nodded and Law led you into his room, which was covered in shiny silver tinsel. You assumed Bepo did it based on the fact that if anyone else went in his room, they’d be dead.

“Bepo doesn’t know about Santa, so we do this. Just go along with it.”

“Why not just tell him?”

“I can’t see him cry. It’s one of my biggest weaknesses. That and your puppy dog eyes.”

You understood his reasoning. Seeing Bepo cry was your biggest weakness as well. A bright idea popped into your head. “Hey Law, you know I love you right? I have a plan. You in, honey?” you asked with puppy dog eyes. He sighed loudly, “I don’t like the sound of this.”

You and Bepo were up all night, the only light coming from the hundreds of Christmas lights and the starlight coming from the porthole door. You convinced him that if you saw Santa, that you’d believe. It was currently 1AM. Bepo was so excited! He was going to meet Santa!!!! Not the fake Santas at the different ports, but the actual Santa.

Suddenly, someone started to climb through the porthole. A pair of old black leather boots and a red velvet suit came down the ladder and into the Polar Tang.

“Ho ho ho,” said the man, jolly as can be, “looks like my biggest fan came to say hello this year. I have a lot of presents for everyone on the ship. Even that grumpy, annoying and beautiful nonbeliever.”

“Oh my god Santa! Look, I told you he was real!”

You giggled, “I can see that Bepo. Looks like you proved me wrong! Now, go get some sleep, Bepo. I need to apologize to Santa.”

You walked up to the white bearded man, as Bepo disappeared into the distance and into his room. You two checked to make sure the coast was clear. “Good job. Looks like your Whitebeard impression really did come in handy for once, Captain.”

The man started to take his beard off, revealing Trafalgar Law, “you owe me big time for this! You’re lucky I love you!”

“I know! Thank you Law. I think we made this the best Christmas for him. I should get some sleep. You have a lot of presents to deliver, Santa.”

“I take it back…you annoy me more than Kid and Luffy combined.”

Please do not copy, modify, translate, repost my writing on other platforms. Comments, reblogs or likes are highly appreciated!

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mixtape127 · 2 months

Text

worlds colliding ☆ pt.1

genre : non!idol mark lee x male reader, college au, ennemies to lovers ?

summary : what if you - kinda - had to save the world and Mark was your sidekick ? or — you need to give out fliers for a class, and Mark doesn't care about "global warming."

warnings : strong language, mark is kind of a douchebag but i swear he's sweet, not proofread yet

words : 1.6k

notes : i love this story sm, it's been in my drafts for so long and it was supposed to be about p1harmony, but i like it with mark too ! might make it in more than just 2 parts if you guys enjoy it as much as i do ! and btw, english isn't my native language, so i really do hope i actually wrote well and if i made dumb mistakes, i'm sorry :((

currently listening to :

"thank you, please look forward to it !" y/n says, bowing multiple times, a smile enlightening his face, watching the group of students walk away with fliers in his hands. "i hope to see you there tomorrow !"

it must have been around 9:40 a.m., a chilly morning for a spring day. the sun was shining, the clouds were absent. the green leaves were showing, some still falling on the grass of the campus park. the students in short sleeves were out again, and the jocks were taking advantage of the cooler weather to work out outside. y/n looked up, his eyes squinting in the bright sunlight. he felt cold, his bones shaking. his poor denim jacket did not cover his bare arms, and his jeans with holes in them did not provide any warmth either. he smiled to himself, seeing some birds migrating elsewhere, formed into a triangle.

he blinked a few times, returning to his emotionless face, before continuing to approach some of the students in groups to give them the rest of his fliers. but none of them seemed interested, and y/n began to lose hope. his business professor had made it clear that if he couldn't get at least 20 students to donate, his semester was over. this was his last chance, and he wasn't about to let it go. his displeasure gradually began to show, the creases in his face deepening. the more people walked around him, the more his hands tightened around his fliers. it's one thing for them not to be interested, but for them to ignore him like this is another.

for a moment there was a flutter, no one was coming out or going in. he took the opportunity to catch his breath, closing his eyes.

"one... two... three..." he whispered to himself, focusing on the soft whistle of the wind.

when he opened them again, he saw a figure facing him approaching the doors of the art building behind him. y/n thought to himself that this was fate, that this boy was almost arriving with a glittering halo of light behind him, signifying y/n's last chance. he took this opportunity and approached the guy, feeling confident.

"hey, how's it going? i'm handing out fliers about globa-..."

a brief gust of wind caressed the skin of his face. again, no response. the boy stalked his way, his headphones screwed to his ears, only giving y/n a small glance. he stood there, watching the boy's back as he walked away. he finally admitted to himself that this time, his pride had been shattered into a thousand pieces, and someone had come to trample it right after. he noted in a corner of his head that he didn't like the idea at all. but it was without realizing it that his legs responded alone, quickly approaching the young black-haired student. he patted him on the shoulder vigorously and handed him the previously crumpled paper in his hands when the latter turned around.

Mark, on his side, put on a bewildered face, one eyebrow raised. he was sure that he had deliberately ignored this boy just a few seconds ago. his day was not starting very well. his dog had chewed on his last pair of freshly bought shoes, his roommate — Donghyuck — had finished his favourite cereal and the hot water had been turned off on his floor. then finally his bus... never came, so he set out to walk to the university, realizing halfway there that his wireless headphones were out of battery. he'd wasted about ten minutes buying wired ones just to survive the rest of the day. and it was also at that very moment, coming out of the convenience store, that he promised himself he'd keep a spare pair of headphones in the bottom of his bag, just in case.

he took out one of his headphones, and uttered an extremely nonchalant "what? i'm late." he didn't mean to sound mean or disapproving, but the day was already taking its toll on him. he almost wondered what kind of people were picking on him so much, and for what reason? had he been too mean to the salesman last night, when he asked him to get out of the store because Mark was singing EXO's music at the top of his lungs? was he too dismissive of his singing teacher when she told him to stop doing 'too much'? and then, what do you mean 'too much'? Mark really didn't like that word, even less when it described his singing.

y/n, on the other hand, waved the paper in front of his nose. he was frustrated with his morning, especially with the way people responded to him. and especially the way Mark said 'what'. he wondered why people were in such a bad mood in the morning. he let out a breath to regain his composure before starting.

"before you cut me off, i think taking this won't hurt you. i'm really passionate about this cause, so i will give you this flier. and if i have to shove it down your throat, i'll do it." he pressed the piece of paper against the boy's chest in front of him. "thank you, and have a great day."

y/n bowed before rotating drastically, turning his back on Mark. he put his hand on his heart, which was now pounding in his chest. not because the black-haired boy was a living god, but because he felt he was getting carried away and tangled up in his words. how people see him matters a lot to him, even if he doesn't talk about it much. and he knew that this interaction was going to play over and over in his head tonight and keep him awake.

"what a fucking weirdo..." Mark muttered once y/n was far enough away.

he clutched the flier in his hands before resuming his journey to his class, which was really about to start. what do you mean 'i'll shove it down your throat'? he shook his head from left to right, pushed open the door and quickly dashed down the left corridor, hitting someone in the shoulder on his way.

Mark hardly turned around, just to give a weak look to the brown man who was bending while getting lost in excuses, and he took a quick walk to room 208. once in front of it, he opened the door and quickly sneaked to his place, at the back left of the room, managing to pass out of the radar of his teacher, who hadn't even noticed his absence until then.

once seated, he took out some of his things, not forgetting his bottle of fresh orange juice, something he bought every Tuesday morning to give himself luck during that long day. Tuesdays were never really his days, always bad and gloomy. he wasn't superstitious, but if Tuesdays could disappear completely, his world would be much better.

as he took his notebook out of his backpack, the flier given to him by y/n slid silently to the ground. Mark bent down to pick it up, not failing to roll his eyes as he placed it back on the table. but his eyes were drawn to a large headline.

"THE WORLD IS SLOWLY ENDING, BUT YOU'RE THE HERO, RIGHT?"

he chuckled silently, before turning the paper over to see the back, finding that there was nothing written on it, and crumpled it up in his hand before tossing it into his backpack. saving the world was not in his plans. not today.

maybe tomorrow... who knows? and he did. he saved y/n's world, in some sort of way the day right after.

"it will serve you better than me."

y/n blinked a few times, frowning in front of his phone, which was playing a summer song, although outside, it was raining damn heavily. he wondered if the voice came from someone talking to a friend behind him, or from his headphones. but the whistle sound in his right ear brought him back to reality. he let out a faint "i'm not a fucking dog-" before looking at the umbrella someone was holding upon his head, then at a guy with brown hair. it takes some time for y/n to connect the dots — maybe because of some sort of poor eyesight — but when he does, his mouth opens up wide.

"you're the guy from yesterday that said "what" so nonchalantly it made my day way worse than it was already !"

Mark rolled his eyes. "i'm trying to save the world, being a hero, i'm landing you my umbrella." with a devilish grin, he removes the umbrella from above y/n's head. "but if you want, i can leave too."

"i'm surprised you read that flier you hated so much." he mutters.

y/n did not know if he should accept, but after all, it won't kill him and it will keep him from getting sick. even though he loved hanging out in bed instead of going to class, getting sick was one of the things he hated the most.

"thanks a lot... um... what's your name?"

"Mark."

he took the umbrella and put it over his head while nodding, repeating Mark's name quietly like he was getting used to it. their eyes met again before Mark got swept away by Donghyuck's reminder that the bus was there and it wouldn't wait for them. he let himself be swept away, and a minute later, y/n's silhouette evaporated in the distance, through the mist on the bus windows.

Mark was lost in thought. and he noticed that his name sounded pretty coming out of y/n's mouth.

#Spotify #nct #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x male reader #mark lee x reader #mark lee x male reader #nct 127 #nct dream #nct x male reader #mark lee #mark nct #mark is a bad boy #and we live for it #mark lee x y/n #haechan

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kyannae · 1 year

Text

ILIKEU，↷ nagi seishiro.

summary: reo invited you to hang out with him and nagi, and who were you to refuse? except, with a twist where he ditches you two. sucks to suck. (gn!reader)

category: FLUFF BROOOO

warnings: gn!reader, ooc characters(?), friend cancelling last minute :rolls eyes:, cursing, nothing else i think

a/n: here's one for my skrinkly little nincompoop 🤭 also a super late valentines special! i'm having sm fun writing these HAHA (yes this is the fic i mentioned in my previous post. this was the one sitting in my drafts for over a week.)

"m' so tired. hey y/n, is reo comin' or not?" nagi sighed, leaning on your shoulder. you frowned, before checking your phone for the nth time that day, while nagi continued playing video games on his. and that was when you saw reo's recent text, sent a minute ago.

'oops, sorry guys, my parents asked me to stay home today. just hang out with each other!'

an irk mark appeared on your forehead and you nudged nagi's shoulder, drawing his attention to the message shown on your screen. he sighed again, before turning his attention back to his game.

"what a pain..." he muttered, and you chuckled. "wanna go to an arcade, then?" you asked, before typing a furious response back to reo. nagi's head perked up at the mention of an arcade. "sure," he replied, and the both of you set off.

"WHAT THE FUCK?? HOW DO YOU DO THIS SHIT BRO." you yelled, trying your hardest to shoot at all the zombies appearing on your side of the screen. nagi seemed like he wasn't even trying at all- even helping to clear YOUR side too.

"your posture and positioning is wrong." nagi pointed out, before standing behind you, adjusting your posture carefully. you froze, muscles tensing up at his touch. when nagi was done, you returned to the game- finding it much easier.

"yeah! i cleared it! take that, dumb game." you cheered, quickly keying in your name so that you'll be shown on the leaderboard. definitely not the top 10 or 5, but you were still happy nonetheless.

nagi hummed, a small smile appearing on his face at the sight of your childlike happiness.

"heyy, hey! nagi! i'm going to go and top-up my arcade card." you waved your hand infront of the spaced out male, whom blinked before mumbling out an "okay."

he eventually got bored waiting, opting to play a nearby game while he waited.

he stuck out his tongue slightly in concentration, fingers skillfully maneuvering the controls. he sighed in relief upon completing the game, and stretched when he saw that he got first place- again.

he was about to key in his nickname so that his score could be saved on the leaderboard, but that was when you appeared.

"I'm back! oh, you got first again. tch." nagi looked up at you, and although cliché- you looked...like...woah. the glow of the neon arcade lights behind you, the jealous look on your face which you weren't doing a very good job at hiding- it was all so, so perfect in his eyes.

he nodded, turning back to the screen- unconsciously keying in what he wanted going to say as his nickname, ILIKEU.

"nagi? your nickname?" you pointed out, and the boy let out a 'hm?' focusing on the name he keyed in, he was shocked and undoubtedly dismayed when he realised that he already pressed enter.

there it was, big bolded font right on the screen as the number 1 on the leaderboard- ILIKEU.

"oh." he muttered, the tips of his ears turning a slight pink in colour, and you chuckled. "did you mean to say that out loud instead?" you teased, and nagi pouted, hiding his face in his hands.

"aww nagi, don't be like that." you laughed, before leaning down to his level.

"i like you too." you smiled, and gave him a quick peck on the lips. "although, this nickname is actually pretty embarrassi-"

please, let him be embarrassed in peace.

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axelsagewrites · 1 year

Text

Lucerys Velaryon*Date

Pairing: Modern!Luke x Gn!reader

Other charecters: Jace, Aegon, Aemond, Bran, Jojen

Summary: Luke finally goes on his date with his study buddy but realises as he's walking round the mall he's being stalked

Word count: 2041

Part two to Study (here) but can be read alone as just a highschool Luke going on his first date with his crush

Masterlist Here

A/N: You can't tell me modern Aegon doesnt make mean girl references and is a himbo

Luke spent every minute of the rest of the week counting down the time till your date. When he told his friends about it the pair didn’t believe him at first. Bran and Jojen had gave Luke all the advice they could think of. Bring mints and gum and brush your teeth first and make sure to use mouth wash. However, none of the three had any clue what to do after that.

This didn’t matter because luckily, or perhaps unfortunately, his uncles and brother had been there when he had secured himself a date. And none of the three had stopped talking about it. at first it was mostly just some banter and teasing but the day before the trio all joined to lecture their new protégée on how to date and how to do it well.

“Don’t let them pay for anything or you’ll look cheap,”

“Don’t go on your phone too much but enough that they think you have friends,”

“Pull their chair out for them,”

“Wear nice shoes. It’s the only thing they’ll notice,”

“Make sure you kiss before the dates over or its basically went bust,”

If not for all three of the boys long dating history Luke would have thought their advice was crazy. But it had worked for them? Hadn’t it? is this just how dates are? Jace even gave him a list of topics to bring up in the conversation died. But it was things about sports and indie music artists which Luke knew nothing about.

“If it comes to it just smile and nod,” Aegon told him. “You just need to look like you’re paying attention,”

Jace had insisted to their mother about dropping him off at the mall where he had agreed to meet over text. These texts were all drafted by Jace and Aemond however, even they didn’t trust Aegon to do the talking.

When they arrived Luke’s legs suddenly felt like jelly, and he sat staring into space. Jace put a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, you got this,” he said, for once being sincere, “Text me if you need me,”

“I know what im doing,” Luke mumbled as he clambered out the car to look for you.

It didn’t take too long for Luke to find you inside just by the entrance to The Red Keep shopping mall. Luke was already on the verge of blushing when he saw you. In school you had always been wearing a hoodie or comfy clothes but just like he had you had spent the whole night before picking your outfit, “Hey,” You greeted when you saw him, walking over and giving him a quick hug that made his heart flutter. “I was starting to think you got lost,”

“My brother took me,” Luke said with a faint flush. Jace had taken so long to actually get out of bed this morning he was now 10 minutes late. “I really need to get my driving licence soon,”

It wasn’t much of a joke, but you laughed anyway which made him smile. “Laughing is good. It means they’re into you,” Aegon had told him. “Well, when you do get it, I expect to be the first person to get a ride,” your voice snapped him back.

“Of course,” Luke grinned as you began to walk the mall, “As long as you promise to tell me what turn to take. I get lost easy,”

“Okay,” you said, your voice light with a hint of laughter, the sweet sound of it swimming in Luke’s head, “Left turn in three, two, one,” you said before grabbing his arm to steer him into a store so you could look at a few things.

However, when you walked in Luke felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

Ur doing great dude – JoJo

Luke looked up with narrowed eyes before he started to try scan the mall to see if his friends were in fact stalking him. That’s when he saw Bran and Jojen sitting at the opposite side of the mall at the fountain, waving at him to turn around.

When he did, he was met with your confused face, “Are you good?” you asked.

“Um yeah sorry I thought I heard something,” Luke said with a sorry smile as he turned his attention to the novelty sunglasses you were holding, “You suit them,” he joked.

“They’re for you,” You grinned as you placed the martini shaped sunglasses on his head. “I’m more a flamingo person myself,”

“Nah if you get to pick mine, I pick yours,” Luke said as he scanned the stall before handing you the cactus ones and gently placing them on your face. He blushed when your soft skin brushed against his fingers, “Perfect,” he grinned.

“Let’s take a picture,”

As Luke and you continued window shopping around the mall he sent Jojen a text telling him to go home but they clearly didn’t listen since Luke kept getting them snapping him pictures of himself on snapchat, “Is everything okay? you’ve been on your phone a lot,” you asked causing Luke to blush bright red.

He’d broke one of Aemond’s rules, “Nah its just my friends being weirdos,” Luke tried to play it off, slipping his phone away and praying he hadn’t come off as an asshole.

Luckily you laughed, “Don’t worry mine are the same. I’ll be getting interrogated when I go home,” Luke couldn’t help but chuckle since his brother was defiantly going to do the same, “Im shocked they didn’t follow us here,” you joked.

Luke’s eyes widened before he quickly tried to act cool again and failed, “What that’s crazy who would do that?” Luke blushed as he looked around the mall for a distraction, “Hey wanna get food?”

Changing the subject had worked since now Luke stood beside you ordering in the food court. He had made sure to get his wallet out before you could grab your own money and he thought it was adorable the way you blushed when he paid for you. at least he had finally started doing this date right. “I’m gonna go grab us a table,” you said while Luke stayed to wait for the food.

“I was gonna pull your chair out for you,” Luke mumbled without thinking and blushed pink when you called him out.

“I can pull my own chair out,” you rolled your eyes with a playful smile before turning to find the table.

Luke spent the next couple minutes trying to remain calm as he checked his messages from Jo and Bran and waited for the food.

I actually think it’s going well btw they’re amazing guys

Luke carried the tray of food over however he stopped in his tracks when he saw the table a couple behind yours. Three shit eating grins were facing right at him. Luke swore under his breath as he took his seat across from you, but you looked none the wiser to the fact his family had managed to track him down and were now intently staring at his every move.

He had sat his phone on the table which had turned out to be a mistake since the thing kept buzzing. “Someone’s popular,” you joked as it lit up again, “Who’s texting so much?”

When he looked at his phone he rolled his eyes, “Just a couple idiots. Ignore it,” he said tossing his phone into his jacket pocket, “I wanna spend time with you not my screen,”

The blush that spread across your cheeks almost made him not see Aegon mouthing at him to look at his phone. “I’ve got an idea,” you said, standing and taking the tray over to the bin.

“What’s that?” Luke asked as he helped you throw everything out.

“How about we run up and try catch the next screening of the Mario movie so that way we can shake off your stalkers?”

Luke’s face suddenly grew a bright shade of red, “What stalkers- “

“Please are you kidding me?” you laughed as you began to walk away with Luke towards the elevator, “We’ve got like 5 people tailing us. Bran and Jojen were staring at me while I ate,”

“I didn’t even see them,” he admitted as he got into the elevator with you, “Why not the stairs?” he asked as he pressed the 3rd floor button.

“So, they can’t see us,” you grinned.

Your friend had been on shift at the movie counter and with the promise of copying your math homework agreed to tell Luke’s family and friends the movie was sold out if they came up. Luckily the movie was loud enough to drown out the complaints of the mouthy unlikely group trying to sneak in.

Luke knew the classic yawn stretch over the shoulder trick from movies but despite how well the date seemed to be going he just couldn’t muster up the guts to do it. Aemond would probably be internally screaming if he could see Luke’s constant awkward glances as he debated trying out the trick during the prequals.

When you glanced back, and your eyes met Luke’s face flushed and his eyes shot back to the screen to pretend to watch the weird comedy advert that was on. He didn’t see you roll your eyes, but he did almost shiver when he felt the soft skin of your hand touching his. Luke glanced at you with a shy smile as he took your hand properly into his. The way your lips curved so perfect made him forget all about his stalker situation. Then the lights dimmed, and Luke’s attention went back to the screen. That was until your head moved to rest on his shoulder and he internally melted.

“That songs gonna be stuck in my head for the rest of the week,”

“How about the rest of my life?” You laughed along with Luke as the lights in the theatre brighten up so you could try stumble out of the tightly packed seats. Your hand still in his.

As you walked out of the theatre and to the elevators Luke couldn’t help but think how lucky he had gotten and how many more of these dates he craved. It was cliché but he noted how perfectly your hand fit in his.

“Do you think they’re still here?” You asked. Luke hadn’t realised he was rubbing his thumb back and forth over your skin, but the feeling made it hard for you not to flush and keep your smile cool.

“Well, Jace is my ride, so I’d hope so,” he said, “Do you need a lift home?”

“Nah I’m getting picked up by my folks. Can’t wait for the interrogation,” you joked, and Luke grinned.

“At least they didn’t stalk you,” he said.

Your sweet laugh was still magic to his ears, “Yeah but they text me five minutes ago to say they’re close by,”

Luke didn’t want the night to end but truthfully neither did you. “I guess I should walk you to the parking lot,”

“Suck a gentleman,” you teased.

On your walk the conversation flowed easily and luckily without interruption from Luke’s stalkers. When you arrived at the glass doors that led to the parking lot you stopped him suddenly and walked to the side, just out of view of the car park. “You good?” he asked.

“Yeah um” You said, glancing at the door, “I just didn’t want my parents to see me yet. I had a really good time today,”

“Me too,” Luke smiled, eyes only on you, “We should do it again sometime,”

“I guess this is me,” you smiled back at him but didn’t move.

Luke didn’t feel nervous anymore as he looked into your eyes. That was until he noticed your eyes glance at his lips. He swallowed a slight lump in his throat when he glanced at yours. they were so perfect. When he looked back at your eyes, he noticed how your smile had reached them. With one last deep breath Luke started to dip his head.

He was fully prepared to be hit or slapped or kicked as he closed his eyes, lips brushing onto yours. but instead, he felt you step closer, your lips moulding to his for a soft but sweet kiss. It only lasted a couple seconds but Luke had got drunk off your touch in that time, your hands still in his.

You pulled back with a shy grin, having to bite your lip to contain yourself but that just drove Luke wild, “We should do that again sometime,” he mumbled, still in a dazed.

“Maybe on our next date,” you grinned, “Just maybe somewhere more private,”

“I’m sure I can figure something out,” he smiled. Your phone buzzed and you pulled it out to see a text from your parents, “Should I walk you to your car?”

“Walk me to the edge of the car park and wave otherwise they’ll haul you in with us,”

Luke did as he was told without complaint despite his hand suddenly feeling empty when you had to let it go. He waved with the same hand that had been blessed with your touch and his eyes were glued to the car when it drove off.

A car honk brought him back from his bliss. “Get in loser,” Jace yelled from the front seat.

“We’re going shopping,” Aegon pipped up from the back with a grin as he leaned over and opened the door for Luke to clamber in.

Aemond sat in the passenger seat up the front, because he could not fathom letting anyone else control the music, “Someone looks happy,” he said.

Luke rolled his eyes as he buckled into his seat and Jace started to drive off. “Did you see where my friends went by the way?”

“I gave them a lift to the Starks’s,” Jace said as he turned the music down much to Aemond’s protest. He was a bit surprised, but Jace had been used as Luke’s and his friends personal taxi service for the better part of a year since his parents got him his car.

“Enough about they virgins,” Aegon said causing Luke to roll his eyes. “Tell us everything,”

“Spare no detail,” Jace added with a grin as they set off home.

Luke was in for a long night, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was you.

Taglist: @justrybca @clairacassidy

#lucerys velaryon #lucerys targaryen #lucerys valeryon #lucerys velaryon imagine #lucerys velaryon x reader #lucerys velaryon fluff #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon #hotd #modern house of the dragon #modern lucerys velaryon

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 1 year

Text

Wrong Number (Part 2)

Summary: The reader has second thoughts about meeting up with Jensen in person until he comes up with a plan that works for them both...

Part 1

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Word Count: 2,200ish

Warnings: language, previous bad marriage

A/N: Look what I found hiding away in my drafts!

By the time lunch had rolled around, you were wondering what the hell you had agreed to do that night. Fly to Austin? Meet a complete and total stranger?

Who knew if the guy even was who he said was? Maybe he was just some guy that had hacked you and was manipulating you and was going to drag you off to who knew where.

You were ready to text Jensen, or whoever he was, and tell him no way you were going, just as a call came in from him.

“Hello?” you answered, leaving your desk and ducking out the side door of the building.

“Hey, Y/N. Uh. About this weekend...can we reschedule? I really, really want to see you but Cati is moving some of her crap out of the house apparently and I’d really rather not get you involved with that basket of crazy.”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s totally cool. I uh,” you said, leaning back against the brick building. “I was actually going to call you and cancel before you got a flight for me.”

“Oh. I feel not so bad then. You get roped into work?” he asked. You very easily could lie and he was nice enough to not say anything. But a part of you didn’t like lying with him. You hadn’t so far and he was still there.

“No. I uh, got sort of nervous. Flying down out of the blue to meet a guy I’ve never met,” you said.

“It’s okay,” he said, voice gentler than you were expecting. “If I was you, I’d be pretty skeptical of me too. If you never want to meet, that’s okay. I’d never want to make you uncomfortable.”

“How do I know you’re real?” you asked. “That this isn’t some scam or something.”

“Next weekend there’s a convention in Dallas. How about I book you a flight for that, a hotel room and everything, get you hooked up with a badge and all that and Saturday night, if you like how the concert goes, we can go out on a date afterwards. Plenty of people around, I’ll stay away until you know I’m not pulling anything. How’s that sound?”

“What do you mean about the concert?” you asked.

“Well, you’re concerned I’m not really who I say I am, right?”

“I’m being stupid. I mean, I can tell by your voice that-”

“Ah, ah. You’re right. I went too overboard with the asking you to stay over my house thing. This is my do over. So, you tell me to wear something on Saturday night and when you see me with it on, then you’ll know it’s really me,” he said.

“Or we could just facetime?” you asked.

“Oh, come on. My way’s more fun and cheesy and romantic,” he chuckled.

“I can pick whatever I want?”

“Go for it,” he said.

“Alright. Let me think about it and I’ll text you the next few days,” you said.

“Alright. I guess I’ll see you next weekend then.”

“I guess you will, Ackles.”

One Week Later

“Hi,” you said, nervously tapping on a security guard dressed in a black suit on the shoulder. They looked down at you and your swallowed. You held up your badge like Jensen had told you to do earlier in the day and the guy talked into a radio for a moment before he waved you back.

Carefully you wandered into a back hall, someone showing you down to a back room. They stopped you outside of it and you paused, the person going inside. A moment later they exited, followed by Jensen, his face lighting up when he saw you.

“Hi,” you said.

“Hi. You are...fuck, you’re pretty,” he said. You smirked and he shared one of his own. “I pass the test?”

“I like your pink bandana,” you said, Jensen laughing as he pulled it from his back pocket.

“I so knew you were gonna pick something pink too,” he said, holding it out to you. “To be honest, I got a little nervous you weren’t real either.”

“Yeah well, I thought we decided you’ve been hurt enough lately,” you said. “No tricks.”

You tied the bandana around his wrist, Jensen smiling back at you.

“Let me say bye to my friends quick and then we can get out of here,” he said.

“Take your time,” you said. He ducked inside and was out less than thirty seconds later, clasping his hands behind his back. “So. What do actor rockstars do for first dates?”

“I could go for some dinner and a drink,” he said. “I know a good hole in the wall place. You like steak?”

“Who doesn’t?” you said.

“I knew there was a reason I liked you,” he said. “You enjoy the show?”

“Yeah. You’re not half bad,” you said. He rubbed the back of his neck and you swore you saw a bit of blush on his face. “So this place close by?”

“It’s probably a fifteen minute walk from here if that’s okay,” he said.

“Yeah. No problem. I’m not one for heels unless I know I’ll be able to sit,” you said.

“Really? I thought you worked in an uppity uppity office,” he said.

“I do. I kick them off under my desk constantly,” you said. “I wasn’t really sure what the dress code was so I stuck to the basics.”

“Basics are always a good bet,” he said, holding open the door for you, the cooler night air refreshing after being in the hot room the past few hours. “I dig the neon orange sneakers.”

“Thanks,” you said, taking off your badge and shoving it in your purse. He was quiet as you made your way to a street corner, waiting for the crossing light. “Jensen?”

“Hm?”

“We do know each other. Can we get over this awkward thing in the air?” you asked.

“Yeah. I’d much rather get back to teasing you over how you call heating frozen waffles cooking dinner,” he said. You rolled your eyes and he chuckled. “Even on 14 hour work days, I still made a meal.”

“Well I can’t cook. You knew that coming into this relationship,” you said.

“Oh, relationship?” he teased, getting a hip bump from you. “You’re hot. I can handle your bad cooking in exchange.”

“Such a guy,” you said, the light going green. You started to walk but Jensen held out a hand, a car rushing through the red. “Not used to a city.”

“You get used to it. I much prefer the suburbs for living,” he said, the two of you starting to walk again. “Weren’t you thinking about renting a small house instead of that apartment?”

“As much as I loathe the one bedroom, size of a shoebox place, it’s cheap. Houses are expensive,” you said.

“Yeah but it’s not in a great neighborhood. You work late sometimes. Isn’t there that skeevy guy outside always?”

“I’m not worried. I honestly will probably get a promotion to the New York City or LA office soon. I’m not killing myself for nothing,” you said.

“But do you like it?” he asked. “Being a financial spy.”

“Financial investigator,” you said with a laugh.

“Same thing,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know. I’ve worked the long days so I know they suck. But I got breaks and I love what I do.”

“Then why end the show?” you asked.

“Cause I love it and I didn’t want it to go to shit. Five years from now, they get in another writer, I’d sign on for a movie or miniseries in a heartbeat,” he said. “We’re just going on a break in my mind. Jared’s too. But I got another job lined up for the fall. Not everyday is perfect. No job is. But I do love what I get to do. I don’t know if I could do that with a job I hated.”

“When I was a kid, I wanted to be an architect. Then an engineer. Then a heart surgeon. Then I went to college for business and finance because it’s a safe bet. The world always needs those kinds of people,” you said.

“They need those other kinds of people too,” he said. “I guess even nerds have to love the finance jobs.”

“I sorta hate it,” you said.

“I know. You vent about it sometimes. Plus your boss sounds like a dick.”

“Don’t remind me. He was mad cause I used a single day of vacation time. Not like I have a gajillion hours saved or anything.”

“Would you ever go back? School?”

“I’ve been out of college eight years. No way would I survive another four.”

“I think you could. But I’ve never been so who am I to say,” he said. “You should take more time off.”

“Now you sound like my mom,” you laughed. “My parents have always owned their own business. I don’t think they quite get it.”

“Maybe not. Still. It’s good to take some time every once in a while,” he said. “You have to fly home tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Flight’s at 7:30. I gotta run after your panel,” you said.

“I feel like I made you come all the way out here for a few hours together,” he said.

“I’m enjoying the convention,” you said. “And the company.”

“Want to know how the show ends?” he teased. You whacked his shoulder and he laughed, a devilish smile on his face. “I can’t tell you that. I wouldn’t spoil it.”

“Yet you’re up for more. I wonder what that tells me,” you said.

“I’m also going to be taking more time off,” he said. “Try to have a lazy day every now and then.”

“Good. You work too much,” you said.

“So. You wanna take some time off with me?”

“I’ve known you for a grand total of seven minutes.”

“We’ve known each other more than two months. We talk every day. It’s been a lot more than seven minutes,” he said. You were quiet for a beat, Jensen’s hand bumping yours a few times before he curled a finger around yours. He slid his fingers through yours, lacing your hands together.

“I know I’ve said this a million times but you didn’t deserve what she did.”

“I know the cheating wasn’t my fault.”

“You know I’m talking about the other thing.”

“I know that one too,” he said. “I’m glad she fucked around to be honest.”

“Why?”

“Because I’d rather dump her before we got into the whole kid situation.”

“I thought she fucked that up with what she said and all.”

“She definitely tried. But I got a good lawyer and he found enough evidence to prove it wasn’t true. So we came to a deal.”

“Really? I hadn’t heard of that.”

“It happened this week when we finalized everything. As of Tuesday, I am 100% officially divorced. Yay,” he chuckled.

“She got the house, didn’t she,” you said.

“Actually, she didn’t get anything. I let her keep her stuff, like clothes and her car but that was it. She didn’t get a dime. It was part of our deal. Amazing how much you can keep when you have the threat of prison time over the other person,” he said.

“It still sucks you had to go through all of that,” you said.

“My sister says I was a sucker from the start. She always thought Cati was a bitch and I never got it until I caught what Cati was up to. Mac picked up on evil chick radar way better than I ever did apparently.”

“S’okay to be a sucker. It means you’re kind,” you said.

“I thought you never had a legit boyfriend you said.”

“I haven’t. Doesn’t mean I haven’t been a sucker,” you said.

“That guy the reason you never went and had one?”

“Pretty much. Much safer in your own personal bubble,” you said.

“True,” he said, giving your hand a squeeze. “Hard to find someone you trust to not just not hurt you but also somebody that makes you feel safe.”

“Cati ever do that for you?”

“No. I thought she did but I can tell the difference now,” he said. “I just started seeing this girl. I think I might trust her.”

“Oh? Well I can tell you she might trust you too,” you said.

“Y/N.”

“Yes?”

“Quit that stupid job. Get out of that office and away from freaking Chad. I know it eats you up.”

“I’ll think about it,” you said. “Got any more cons for awhile?”

“Not for about two months,” he said.

“Maybe some weekend you could come visit,” you said with a shrug.

“Maybe next weekend,” he said, a big smile plastered on his cheeks. “If you’re free.”

“I am,” you said.

“Good. It’s a date then,” he said.

“Assuming this one goes well,” you said.

“How am I doing so far?”

“Pretty decent. I don’t want to give it away just yet.”

“And I’m the one that teases in this relationship. Right,” he said, slowing his walk as you approached a restaurant. “Ladies first.”

_______

#spn #supernatural #jensen x reader #spn series #jensen ackles #rpf #jensen x #jensen ackles fanfic #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #au

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starshine-hockey-girl · 4 months

Text

Here is my late entry for the Valentine's fic exchange. It is my first attempt at player/player HRPF. @deformed-globule, I hope you like it.

I also apologize that it got long. Actually, i should he sorry, but I am not.

Summary- My best guess to answer the question that has been haunting hockeylbr since the All-Star game. How and why was Sidney Crosby wearing Nate Mackinnon's hoodie during his post-game interview?

@pattiemac1 @penstxgal1968 @angry-geno-is-score @newlibrary @cellythefloshie @hockeyficexchange

Wednesday- January 31st- Nate MacKinnon’s hotel room

Nate watched as Cale Makar stood at the door and looked out into the hall. Cale looked back and forth several times to ensure that the hallway was clear before turning back to Nate. “So…. uhhhh…. I guess I will see you at breakfast? Maybe we can have round two before the Skills Competition,” the soft spoken defenseman said.

“I’m not sure,” Nate yawned as he wrapped the towel around his nude body. He had just started the shower and was anxious to get his latest conquest out of his room as quickly as possible. He was fully anticipating a video call from Sid, especially once the photo Nate had sent to him was opened.

“Oh, okay,” Cale replied, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice.

“Don’t worry Kid,” Nate grimaced slightly, “I won’t leave you hanging.”

With that, Cale smiled and rushed down the hall towards his room. He had a naive fear of being caught doing the “walk of shame” down the hall. He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he almost ran into Leon Draisaitl walking towards his room. Smiling at the near collision, it dawned on him that Leon was walking from the direction of Matthew Tkachuk’s room. The term “walk of shame” took on an entirely different tone during the ASG and Cale pondered just how many of his fellow All Stars would be taking the same walk during the next three days.

Inside Nate’s room, Nate stared at his phone. The message containing his nude selfie with Cale’s bare ass in the background had been seen by Sidney, but there was no response. After another fifteen minutes, Nate contemplated sending another message to provoke a response. It was a move that made him feel needy, but dammit, he NEEDED to know Sid’s response to the picture. Finally, the young buck couldn’t take the suspense any longer. He FaceTimed Sid who picked up while reclining on his hotel bed wearing nothing but a pair of boxers.

Nate: Hey Sid

Sidney: Nate

Nate bit his lip before speaking: So, did you see the draft?

Sidney: No, I was busy. I saw the line-up though. Not bad.

Nate felt the flame of anger light in his gut. Not only had Sid not told him that he wouldn’t be at the draft, but he didn’t even have time to watch it. Nate had been selected as a team captain, after all, and he made sure to draft Sid as his first pick.

Nate spit out: Not bad? So not bad but not good? Well, maybe if I hadn’t been thrown off by you being represented by a damn toddler, I would have been more focused

Sidney yawned: Don’t overthink it Nate. It doesn’t really matter what team you end up on during the All Star game. Everything is usually pretty equal talent-wise. Although we might be hosed during a penalty kill.

Nate snarked: Well, then try not to take any dumbass penalties, Sid.

Sid leveled his gaze at Nate: Need anything else?

Nate responded without thinking: Did you get my pic?

Sid answered tersely: Yes, I did. Makar has a nice ass by the way.

Nate inwardly seethed. Sid was completely nonchalant by the knowledge that he fucked Cale. In the seven years since they had become “friends with benefits”, it had been generally accepted by both that what happened when they were apart in different cities went unquestioned.

It was that fact that made Sidney question why exactly Nate had sent such an obvious thirst trap picture. Then it dawned on Sidney that Nate was pissed about the draft. Sure he should have communicated better he thought, but it wasn’t like Nate was his girlfriend. “No, boyfriend,” Sidney corrected himself. Either way, Nate wasn’t entitled to an explanation and it irritated him that he reacted this way.

Nate finally came up with a response: Yeah, it was a nice ass to tap.

Immediately, Nate felt a pang of regret. It was a shitty thing to say about The Kid. It was a shitty thing to use him as a means to make Sid jealous. Nate paused. “Jealous?” Nate questioned himself, “Why would I want to make Sid jealous?”

Sidney responded with disinterest: “Was it good?”

Nate had repeated in disbelief: “Was it good?” “You don’t give a fuck?”

Sidney yawned and examined his feelings with a coldness that further infuriated his younger….. He paused to think of the correct term. What exactly was Nate to him? They definitely fell into the more than friends camp, but were they in a relationship? Definitely not. However in his gut, a tiny seed of something grew. It felt like a weird combination of jealousy, anger and outright annoyance.

Sidney and Nate’s physical relationship began at Sidney’s 2017 Stanley Cup party. A very drunk Nate followed Sidney up to his bedroom at the end of the night. When an equally drunk Sidney suggested that he walk home, Nate made his move with a sloppily drunken kiss. He moaned into Sidney's mouth, “Don't want to go home. I want to be fucked.”

It was an unexpected offer to Sidney, but not an unwelcome one. He had often imagined what it would be like to take the younger man. Solo jerk off sessions after their intense and competitive workouts had become routine. He wondered how his extremely fit body would feel in his hands. Sidney paused to contemplate the ethics involved. “How drunk are you?” Sidney asked before he returned Nate's kiss.

“Sober enough to consent,” Nate slid his hands under Sidney’s shirt, “I am also a grown ass man and I know what I want.” It was as if Nate had read his mind. It was just enough to release Sidney's tenuous hold on his last inhibition. He pulled Nate into the room and slammed the door shut. Nate grinned as he raced to strip. Sidney was slower and more deliberate in his actions. Nate gasped when Sidney’s semi-erect cock sprung out of his boxers.

“Is this your first time?” Sidney asked as he stroked his cock, getting it fully erect. Nate shook his head no. “Get ready for me,” Sidney drawled with seduction. Nate scampered onto the bed. Nate felt Sidney's large thighs behind his as his hands gripped Nate's hips. Sidney leaned forward and nipped at Nate's neck, “How do you want it?”

The blonde looked back at his hockey hero. “Any way you want to take it,” he answered. His eyes half closed in a state of extreme arousal and disbelief. He had dreamed of this moment for years. “Hard and fast it is,” Sidney smiled as he thrusted.

Sidney shook his head and pushed the memory out of his mind. Nate had fumed on the other end of the line. Sidney paused, unsure what to say. He wasn’t sure what emotion he was feeling, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to admit anything to Nate. “You’re free to do whatever you want, with whomever you want,” Sidney finally replied as coolly as possible.

On the other end of the line, Nate’s face reddened.

Nate: Fine, I will.

Nate ended the call abruptly and turned off his phone. He was sure that Sid would call back immediately. Sidney did not.

Thursday- February 1st- Scotiabank Arena

Sidney glanced at his phone once again as stepped out of the SUV at the All Star Game red carpet. Nate had continued his radio silence after the drunken phone call the night before. When Sidney walked into the assigned locker room, his eyes searched for Nate. He saw him huddled his fellow Avs - Cale and Georgie.

An awe-inspired silence fell over the room when Sidney walked into the locker room. It happened frequently these days when the younger players from other teams came into close proximity to their childhood hockey hero. All eyes turned to Sidney in various levels of adoration. All eyes except for Nate who felt the weight of Sid's eyes on him. He stubbornly looked at the floor and refused to acknowledge him. Sidney blinked then proceeded to his locker to dress, exchanging head nods with everyone else. Cale looked between the two friends and pondered the obvious tension.

Nate kept his focus on Cale, openly bantering with him. Sidney watched for a moment. In all of the years he had known Nate, the younger man had never failed to acknowledge him. The strange, unnamed feeling from the night before returned. The one that he had been trying to stuff down most of the morning and during flight to Toronto. Like most men when confronted by a difficult emotion, he turned it into anger. “Who in the fuck did he think was? Like I am going to be jealous of Salad boy,” Sidney thought to himself. “Any one of these guys would die to have my attention and you want to ignore me, Nate? Go ahead play with your new conquest. I will find my own.”

With that, Sidney turned his attention to Tom Wilson with a smile. “Are you here to give moral support to our boys or did you just want to spend time with me?” Sidney said flirtatiously. Nate’s ears perked up but he willed himself not to look.

“It can’t be both?” Wilson smiled back, “I won’t be on the ice today. I guess I will have to admire you from afar.”

“Just like always,” Sidney shot back, “I see you sneaking glances my way during games.” Nate’s head swiveled around and his eyes widened. Sid was openly flirting with Wilson. He was openly flirting with Wilson IN FRONT OF HIM.

Wilson inwardly laughed. He had been in the league long enough and was smart enough to realize that Sidney’s sudden flirtatiousness was not for his benefit, but MacKinnon’s. Despite that knowledge, he decided to play along because frankly he didn’t have anything better to do. The fact that it irritated the other golden boy from Nova Scotia? That was just an added bonus.

“You know I can’t help myself, Sid,” Wilson flirted, “That ass cannot be ignored.”

“Who says I want you to ignore it?” Crosby shot back.

Nate couldn’t take it anymore and stomped off towards the ice. Makar followed after him. Wilson laughed out loud, “Poor NateDogg - no longer Sid’s golden boy.”

“Shut up, Willie,” Sidney snapped.

“Or maybe he is,” Wilson answered coolly.

“It’s complicated,” Sidney said before he got up to walk to the rink. He turned to Wilson and smiled, “Thanks for the assist though. I appreciate it.”

“Anytime, anytime,” Wilson smiled, “I’ll be glad to keep it up. Get him worked into a lather for you.” Sidney winked at Wilson and kept walking.

The Skills Competition essentially became a battle of two peacocks. Nate and Sidney both vying for the attention of the other by any means necessary. Nate hung tight with Cale, flirting shamelessly. Sidney flitted from young admirer to young admirer, mesmerizing them with his presence before leaving them with titillating hope of more. On the surface, the two appeared calm and collected. They joked superficially and appeared to be the same long-time friends that they had successfully projected into the world through the years. Beneath the surface, they battled to remain in control of the seething jealousy.

In the locker room after the skills competition, talk turned to evening celebrations. Nate made the first move and loudly pronounced his intent to go to a club with his fellow Avs. Sidney casually threw out that he had been invited to History, Drake’s nightclub. That announcement led to almost everyone else in the locker room to ask for an invite as well. Sidney was more than happy to text his new minions to the guest list. He threw out a half-hearted invitation to Nate which was soundly declined.

Friday - February 2nd- Scotiabank arena - Team MacKinnon locker room

Sidney threw his stick against the wall in disgust. Anger pulsating through his veins. Nate followed behind with proverbial steam coming out of his ears. The rest of Team MacKinnon followed in confused silence. “Yes, losing sucked” Oliver Bjorkstrand pondered, “but it’s just the All Star game. It’s not like the points counted.’

“What the fuck was that, Sid,” Nate screamed.

Sidney swiveled around, “What was what?”

“You missed your shoot out shot. You cost us the game,” Nate yelled.

“First, watch your tone with me. Second, you missed your shot right after me,” Sidney yelled back.

“Are you saying that I cost us the game,” the blonde huffed. The remaining players in the locker room looked back and forth as the two friends volleyed accusations at each other.

“I am saying that maybe you should have considered a penalty kill in your draft strategy,” Sidney said through clenched teeth.

“Maybe you should have been there if you were so concerned about draft strategy instead of sightseeing god damn bears and wolves!” Nate responded.

Sidney took a breath and looked around the room. Expressions ranged from the total amusement of Tom Wilson to the shock and awe of Makar. Sidney grabbed onto the bench to keep himself from walking over to the defenseman to slap the expression off his face. “Fuck this,” Sidney muttered, “I refuse to be a spectacle because you are behaving like a spoiled child.” He gathered his things and walked out of the back door into the hallway.

Nate watched in disbelief. “Where in the fuck do you think that you are going?” he thought to himself. His mind raced back to Wednesday and the blythe way Sid had dismissed his veiled cries for attention. He got up and followed him down the hall. Sid checked doors until he found an empty physical therapy room unlocked. He went and threw his stuff down. He was almost undressed when Nate entered the room. The rest of players looked at each other for a moment and scampered down the hall to listen.

“Don’t walk away from me, Sid,” Nate hissed.

“I am not going to indulge your temper tantrum, Nate,” Sidney shot back.

Nate crossed to him in a fury.

“What did you say to me?” Nate questioned.

“I said that I am not going to indulge your temper tantrum,” Sidney responded coolly. The detached tone fueled MacKinnon’s repressed anger.

“Like I am a god damn baby?” Nate laughed.

“Like a damn baby in need of a pacifier,” Sidney spit out.

The duo stared at each other, nostrils flared and chests heaving. In a split second, the anger turned to unbridled passion.

“I don’t need a pacifier but I want to suck on something,” Nate whispered. Sid smiled and tore off his remaining clothes. Nate pushed him until his ample ass bounced off the padded table. Sid pushed himself up onto the table and spread his legs. Silently he offered Nate the object of his desire- his thick and throbbing cock.

Nate began to suck like it was the first time they had explored each other’s bodies. The anger had fully subsided into pure passion. It was aggressive and rough. Sid’s large fingers grabbed onto Nate’s hair and guided him up and down. Nate, however, required no guidance. A silent look was exchanged and Nate stood up. Sid hopped down and Nate bent over the table.

“Is this what you want?” Sid hissed.

“Shut up and fucking give it me,” Nate hissed back.

Sid poured the unspoken anger of the last two days into his fucking. His jealousy of Nate fucking Cale, his anger at Nate’s passive aggressiveness over the past two days, the disappointment of losing to fucking Connor McDavid fueled his relentless thrusts.

Nate felt his anger fading away, replaced with the subtle confidence that Sid did, indeed, still want him. The jealousy faded as Sid fucked him like his life depended on it. The grunt and groans filled the room. Their usual banter replaced animalistic noises as they expressed their emotions in the only way they knew how. Sid collapsed in a heap on top of Nate momentarily before wrapping his arm around Nate’s waist. His hand stroked feverishly, bringing Nate to a quick orgasm. Nate’s back rose up and down as he collected this thoughts and let his breathing slow down.

Sid gently kissed Nate’s back and Nate froze. He allowed Sid to feather kisses across his shoulder blades. Sid seemed to be conveying something, but Nate wasn’t clear on the message. He was torn on wanting to let it continue and the need to know what the message was. He pushed up and turned around to face Crosby.

“What? All of the sudden you give a shit about me?” Nate quizzed.

“Of course, I give a shit about you Nate,” Sidney answered quietly.

“Right, you really gave a shit about me when you skipped the draft,” Nate accused, “I needed you and you bailed on me.”

“You needed me? Why?” Sidney answered, truly perplexed. “All of this is because I missed the draft? Seriously?” Nate reached for his sweatpants and shook his head. “Look at me, Nate,” Sidney commanded. Nate continued to look down. “Look at me please?” Sidney asked instead of ordered.

Nate looked up, the pain evident in his eyes. Sidney continued, “I didn’t know that you really wanted me there and I didn’t certainly didn’t know that you needed me there.” He ran his fingers through his silver and gray hair. “I thought I was doing the right thing, Nate,” Sidney explained, “I thought me not being there would allow the spotlight to be on you. I thought it would give you a chance to shine.”

“You wanted me to shine?” Nate asked softly, “That’s why you stayed away?”

Sidney pulled up his sweatpants, “You were selected to be a captain. It’s a big deal. I didn't want to take attention from you.”

“Really? You expect me to believe that? What did you say the other night Sid? You’re free to do whatever you want, with whomever you want,” Nate accused.

“You are,” Sidney replied as neutrally as possible. “You are free to fuck anyone you want. That doesn't change that I want the best for you.” Inwardly Sidney's heart raced. This conversation was getting close to dangerous emotional territory.

Nate stared at Sidney for a moment. The unspoken emotion simmered beneath the surface. Finally, Nate spoke, unable to stop himself, “You-you're what's good for me.”

“What?” Sidney gasped, “What did you say?”

Nate took a step toward Sidney, “I don't want anyone else but you.” He began to say before Sidney kissed him mid-sentence. The kiss was soft and gentle, completely different than any other of their shared kisses.

“Me too. I only want you- no one else,” Sidney moaned as his tongue languidly explored Nate's mouth.

Nate pulled back, “Seriously?“

“I only want you,” Sidney reiterated as Nate grabbed him and pulled into his body. They were both absorbed in the kiss when there was a soft knock on the door.

“Uhhhh, guys?” Oliver Bjorkstrand said, “They're looking for you. Neither of you did your post game media before you uhhhh.” He paused to think of a polite way to say retreated into an empty therapy room to fuck like animals.

Sidney called out, “Tell them you found me. I'll be right there.” In the hall, the members of Team MacKinnon scrambled back to the locker room. In the room, Sidney grinned at Nate, “I'll go first and let my captain have the last word” He grabbed a hoodie, threw it on, and kissed Nate quickly before rushing out the door.

Nate stared at the door for a brief moment before reaching for his hoodie. He grabbed the remaining hoodie and saw the 87 on the right side. It took a moment for the meaning to sink in. “If I have Sid's hoodie,” he thought to himself, “Where is my hoodie? Shit, Sid has my hoodie.”

He raced to open the door. He called out to Sid, “Wait, you have the wrong hoodie,” Sid turned, looked the number on the hoodie and shrugged. Then he flashed a grin, pointed to the number and then to his heart. Nate stared for a moment before a sly grin spread across his face.

Later that night - Vince Dunn’s condo - Bellevue, Washington

Dunn looked up at the TV screen from his position between Larsson’s massive thighs. He did a double take when he saw the number 29 on Sidney Crosby’s chest. He turned to Larsson who looked down in mild annoyance to the interruption of the blow job he had been receiving. “Is Sid wearing MacKinnon’s hoodie?” Dunn asked in disbelief.

“Gubben,” the ginger spoke, “Focus.”

Dunn pouted slightly, “At least he isn't wearing some rookie's jersey like SOMEONE I know.”

Larsson gently grabbed Dunn’s face and turned it to him. “Gubben…. How long are you going to pout about that? I was simply trying to boost Garth's confidence. You know he means nothing to me. You are my special one.” Dunn grinned, basking in the reassurance of his beloved partner. “Now back to work,” the Swede playfully demanded, “Back to work.”

#sidney crosby imagine #hockey rpf #sidney crosby x nate mackinnon #nhl fic #nhl fiction

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an-angels-fury · 1 year

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My Gerik Headcanons

Hey, guys!

Damn, this was already rotting here in my drafts. I planned to make this post months ago (only a few days after I created this page), but I always got lazy or too insecure to finish it. But now, IT'S FINALLY HERE 😄

As you probably read in title, these HC's are all about Gerik (Gerard Butler's Erik/The Phantom from the 2004 movie), so... well, don't get surprised if you expected something else. Also, these are all my opinions, so don't be an asshole if you disagree with them or just because you don't like Gerik or this specific adaptation 😒

Enjoy it 👍

Gerik doesn't have clear memories of his father. The only things that come to his mind in the few times he thinks of him is a big fist gripping painfully his tiny arm as a little child and a man lying dead in his bed.

Since he was born, Gerik's mother never let him walk around the house. Actually, he spent most of the time in his first years of life all alone, locked in a dark, cold and dirty baseament. The only times his mother would visit him was to give him some food or to hurt and punish him for simply being born.

Erik is not his birth name, but the one he gave himself after he came to the Opera House. His parents hated him and never saw him as their son, nor even a human being, so they never cared about giving him a name.

When he was only 7, his mother sold him to the circus. She took him out of the house for the first time, telling him they would take a trip to a very special place. Later, he would find out she planned this just to finally get rid of him.

When Gerik's keeper saw him for the first time, he didn't think his deformity was scary enough so, through the years, he would always find a opportunity to use his whip on him, giving the boy a more hideous appearence. He still bears most of the scars in his body, especially on his back.

Gerik got most of his magic knowledge in his time in the circus. One night, a magician who perfomed there notice the curiousity in the boy's eyes and decided to teach him some tricks, which he learned to execute very quickly. When the circus owners found out, they were very impressed and decided to take advantage of his abilities letting him participate of some numbers. This is one of the fondest memories of his childhood.

Sadly, most of his famous perfomances were as one of the main attractions in the freak show, being adressed as "The Devil's Child". Because of that, he spent most of his time locked inside a small cage.

In middle of the night, when the pain of loneliness seemed to devour his soul, Gerik would sing any sweet melody he created in his head while admiring the stars and losing himself in their light. There were times his tired eyes would catch some of his colleagues, other rare oddities, paying attention to him and his angelic voice. This is a habit he would mantain even after he started to live in the Opera House. Every night, he would go up to the building's roof and look at the starry night sky.

His only friend in that horrible place was the little acrobat monkey who lived in the camp. At least once a day, he would visit Gerik's cage and make company to him, play with him and make funny tricks to make him laugh.

It was the little animal who inspired child Gerik to build his monkey puppet who plays little plates (and also his music box years later). He still keeps the toy with him after all those years, even using him to sleep sometimes, but he'll never admit it.

He was only 12 when he finally killed his captor and ran away to the Opera with Madame Giry's help.

In his first years in the Opera House, he would spend most of his time exploring the dark tunnels and secret passages bellow the building, coming to the point of memorizing every corner in his mind, knowing the whole place better than anyone else. It would still take him some time until he could gain courage enough to finally come back to the surface and discover all the other places on the theater.

During his teenage years, he was haunted by night terrors. At night, those horrible memories of his childhood would always crawl back to his mind, so livid, making him shake, kick and cry histeracally until he finally wake up with the sound of his own screams. He still feared to be found and taken back to the circus. Happily, those dreams would become less and less constant as he grew up. But they've never truly gone.

He climbs the walls and the rooftop of the Opera, swims in the underground lake and practices fencing daily as forms of exercise. He learned in the most painful way what might happen when you're in the middle of a dangerous situation and you're too weak to defend yourself. He promised himself he would never be in this position ever again.

Red is his favorite color.

Since he can remember, darkness was always his best friend, the one who protected him from curious, scared eyes. It's his safe place, his refugee. But at night, before he lay down in his bed, the darkness which he's so familiar with, suddenly becomes something terrifying. The time he is asleep is the only one he takes the risk to be at anyone's mercy. That's why he uses so many candles to light his lair: because of his fear of waking up in the middle of the night, surrounded by darkness, and, suddenly, finding himself trapped in that baseament of his mother's house or in that cage in the freak show, vulnerable to anyone who wishes to hurt him again.

Gerik has no religion. As a child, he tried very hard to believe and find comfort in the idea of a kind, selfless and benevolent God who look out and take care of all living beings. When he still lived with his mom, he prayed every night, asking for God's help to make his mama love him back.

After his mother abandoned in the circus, feeling totally alone, hurt and helpless, he started to pray to God send him an angel, to embrace him and take him away to a place where his pain and suffering would finally be over.

When the years passed and, once again, he got no answer, Gerik came to conclusion that the existence of such powerful being was nothing but a lie, or maybe God was so disgusted and horrified about his existence that He, just like the rest of humanity, has abandoned him too ("A God like this could really be so cruel?! Am I really the Devil?!"). In the end, he prefered to believe in the first option because the second one seemed too painful to be true.

He shared a very close friendship with Madame Giry during his teenage years. However, reaching the adulthood, both got busy with their own works and duties (Gerik soon learned to not depend on his friend's care to survive and took his role as the Phantom of the Opera, while Mme. Giry became the ballet teacher of the Opera and got pregnant of her daugther Meg) and started to grew apart.

All Gerik's knowledge on romance comes from operas and plays (just like most of his knowledge in sword fighting as well), books and sweet gestures shared between lovers in their secret meetings in the Opera House.

He absolutely loves animals. There's no doubt he's the "animals are infinitely better than humans" kind of person (Christine and the Girys are his only exceptions). Every night, when there's no one else working in the stables of theater, he goes to take care of the horses, give them food and water and, in many occasions, rant about his feelings and frustrations with them. Even though he swears to himself he loves all of them equally, it's impossible for him to hide his soft spot for a certain black stallion called Cesar, whose personality is as stubborn and tameless as his own.

#I kinda had some other hc's but this is already too long and I'm too lazy to write it down (maybe a part 2 in the future or whatever...)#the phantom of the opera #phantom of the opera 2004 #poto 2004 #erik the phantom #erik poto #gerik #gerard butler #headcanons #poto headcanons #my headcanons

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firestorm09890 · 1 year

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Kingdom Hearts: Nobody Anatomy, Physiology, Psychology, Ontology??? headcanons

saw people talking about more monstrous Nobodies a bit ago (okay it was a long while ago at this point, this has been in drafts for ages) and that reminded me to share some of my thoughts. it spiraled kind of out of control and now this post is ridiculously long. three parts: the physical side, the less physical side, and other thoughts. most of it’s under the cut. enjoy

The physical side

All of these apply to ALL Nobodies, not just the funny squiggly ones.

Alrighty, here’s my proposal: Nobodies don’t have any internal organs. Even the ones that retain their human form. They may look and act like they’ve got regular human body processes, but I like to think that it’s just a hollow imitation. This is why every single Nobody has an absolutely snatched waist

So they’d lack both their metaphysical hearts and their real hearts!

The Organization was founded by a bunch of researchers who got into this mess via unethical human experimentation so you know they tried to pin down the specifics of Nobody biology early on, but every time they tried to use any medical equipment it would come up empty or just straight up not work. And then none of them were willing to get vivisected for the cause lmao

I think the greater Nobodies (human-shaped ones) are made up of the same weird, rubbery flexible stuff that lesser Nobodies are, but just don’t have that flexibility because hey! They’ve got a human form to maintain! They may seem human, but on a biological level, they’re closer to the squiggly guys than an actual human. This is why it’s possible for Xemnas to turn greater Nobodies into Dusks. We never see him do it, but I doubt it’s an empty threat. I don’t think there were any other greater Nobodies in the Organization in the past, but he’s probably transformed one of the specialized Nobodies, like a Dancer or Dragoon, into one of the lowest-ranked ones, like Dusks or Creepers or something.

All Nobodies have the Nobody sigil somewhere on them. For lesser Nobodies it’s easily visible, but for greater Nobodies, it’s on their backs, and since they’re always wearing those coats, no one ever sees it.

If a Nobody is cut, they don’t bleed- instead, little wisps of darkness leak out of the wound, like what happens in the Org’s death animations but on a smaller scale. They can heal faster than regular humans thanks to ✨something something darkness and nothingness✨.

Though Nobodies are supposedly shunned by both light and darkness, they are more aligned with dark than light. Any Nobody can wield light, not just Roxas (as shown by Zexion in Chain of Memories), but it takes great difficulty. However, they can wield darkness with ease.

Nobodies do need to sleep as regularly as humans, but can last much longer without food or water. Rest? Yes! Nutrience? Unimportant

They have no body heat- that’s a corpse, baby!!! That does bring up some questions about thermoregulation. I don’t feel like thinking about it tbh. There’s lots of questions in this vein: can Nobodies get drunk? I think they probably can’t. In 358/2 Days, Demyx says “Wait, training!? That sounds like work, which means sweating. Which is gross.” and that... complicates things! I could chalk it up to how a lot of people in Organization XIII have a tendency to keep acting like they’re humans and nothing’s changed, even though it has.

Nobodies are “born” in any world in the Realm Between. Roxas first appeared in Twilight Town, but some might have shown up by Castle Oblivion, or even the Mysterious Tower (god bless). Showing up in The World That Never Was is probably the most common.

The less physical side

It’s quite an unlikely coincidence that every apprentice of Ansem the Wise had a standout, super strong heart that allowed them to retain their human forms as Nobodies. I think it had something to do with being stabbed by a keyblade, not just their wills alone. That would also align with 9-12 being tied to a keyblade legacy. A strong will is important, yes, but you only get to be human-looking if there was a keyblade involved.

In a Nobody, the most important part of this will is the will to live. Should that ever wane, they Nobody will begin to destabilize, and eventually, they will return to nothingness.

Nobodies have hearts, and they do not have hearts. They have feelings, and they do not have feelings. It’s like the observer effect in quantum mechanics. Anyone who can sense hearts or feelings or whatever will not be able to sense anything from a Nobody, no matter how far along in development that heart may be, reinforcing the belief that yeah there’s nothing there. But there is... and also there isn’t. Both statements are true. A friend described it as “Schrödinger’s Feelings” and it’s the most accurate “Schrodinger’s ____” joke I’ve ever seen made. Someone else described it as depression which is also accurate (source: i’ve had depression). There are bouts of emotion occasionally, but those emotions are dulled (and usually negative) and most of the time there’s only suffocating apathy.

There is some truth to the statement that Nobodies’ feelings are simply recreations of what they might’ve felt back when they had hearts, but it’s also bogus. Memories are important to the makeup of a Nobody, but that statement is often used as an excuse that covers up the reality that there was a feeling there. It’s very easy to lie to yourself when there’s mostly data supporting your argument and any evidence against is less common and easily disputed by “logic” like this.

The most prominent “feelings” in Nobodies are an intense sense of longing and dissatisfaction. For some, the longing is for a heart, but for others it is aimless. That was the idea behind all the Nobodies having little hobbies like cooking and puzzles and reading magazines in the manga. They’re trying to fill that void with anything they can.

In one of the novels, Demyx, #1 proponent of the idea that Nobodies do have hearts actually, gives us this:

I play and play, but I can’t make a satisfying sound.

In truth, I know I won’t be satisfied in all eternity.

If you don’t have a heart, there’s no such thing as satisfaction.

You don’t even think you want to be satisfied.

And yeah, the novels aren’t canon, but it’s still interesting to see and think about. Nothing you do is good enough to fill that emptiness, but you can barely bring yourself to care about it anyway. Yep, depression!

Nobodies are prone to a high amount of introspection. It’s an inherited trait all Nobodies share- if you manage to survive past humanity in a bizarre fucked up state like this, you’re naturally going to be thinking about it. However, they’re all also incredibly bad at it, and generally do a horrible job at self-reflection. This is just an unfortunate coincidence

A Nobody can regrow a heart if they make connections, and are seen and acknowledged by others. Pretty sure that’s just canon. HOWEVER, Nobodies cannot help each other grow hearts- this is why none of the Organization regrew hearts after 10 years of being around each other, and despite connections within the group. 0+0 is still 0, after all. That’s what makes the policy of going undetected on missions so insidious. They’re never allowed the chance to regrow a heart. I’ve already talked about it somewhere else, but this is why Roxas grows a heart so fast- he ignores that rule, for the most part. Axel’s interactions with Sora are also what kickstarts his heart growth.

Hypothetically, since someone doesn’t have to remember a memory for Castle Oblivion to draw on it, the mechanics with the cards and the rooms could have been used to help Xemnas recall his past- considering how much time he spent talking to Aqua’s armor, I think that’s something he might’ve been interested in. HOWEVER! Since the Twilight Town card came from the memories on the other side of Sora’s heart, I propose that the properties of Castle Oblivion would have no effect on Nobodies. RIP.

Other thoughts

I’m not saying Ansem the Wise and Yensid were right about Nobodies! I do think they’re different from humans on a fundamental level, but demonizing them is Not Cool

On the idea that Nobodies aren’t meant to exist: Well. Just like before it’s total bogus bc the main perpetrators of that idea were either bigoted about it or liars or both but I think it’s a little more complicated than “everyone is flat wrong about this”. Nobodies are essentially naturally-occurring byproducts of Heartless. Most Nobodies (or, at least, the lesser ones, based on that one cutscene in kh2 where hearts rain down on The World That Never Was and we see a bunch of Dusks grasping for them) seem to have a drive to reclaim the heart they’ve lost- if reclaimed, that would mean they wouldn’t be a Nobody anymore. Creatures born in worlds of neither light nor darkness, created only through the destruction of another and only some of the time, who don’t even want to exist like this themselves... that’s what “Nobodies aren’t meant to exist” means to me, I think. BEAR IN MIND “MEANT” IS NOT THE SAME AS “DESERVE”

And then! There’s Nobodies who defy that! Or, uh, Nobody, singular. Roxas goes “bro I don’t care I want to exist as I am” and he does that (Naminé... didn’t really seem to share that opinion, if I’m remembering correctly. Probably because DiZ hammered it into her head that she didn’t deserve to exist). I wish we had seen something like that from one of the regular Nobodies- why should recompletion and/or regaining a heart be the ideal? Why do they have to die again in order to be “right”? It just further perpetuates that idea DiZ and Yensid pushed in kh2: Nobodies are Wrong and shouldn’t be around. Unless you’re special like Roxas or Naminé in which case it’s okay. But for everyone else it’s recomplete or bust... anyway this is a tangent I did not mean to go on with this post-

I think it’s interesting, how they’re made of nothingness and their existence is “nonexistent”. Nothingness is, as an element, something, as opposed to true nothing, which is the absence of anything. Nonexistence implies existence. It’s like how in math, sometimes an answer to a problem will be DNE-- that’s Nobodies, and “nothingness”. “Does not exist”, but in writing the answer, it does exist, as a nonexistent entity. As opposed to just... not having a math problem at all, and therefore not having a place to write a solution. That is true nothingness- all the Nobodies of people whose hearts weren’t strong enough to create Nobodies fall under this category. They don’t exist for real. Nothing as something vs nothing as nothing- ah fuck I just realized this is the second time I’ve used a math analogy for kingdom hearts. shit

in conclusion

that’s all of it. probably. i like nobodies a whole lot. now that i’m thinking about it i should’ve made this multiple posts instead of one huge one. if you read all of this you earn my undying love

#kingdom hearts #kh #organization xiii #nobodies #kh headcanons #me post #i dont expect anyone to reblog this one lmao #but it would be nice if someone read it #i spent a stupid amount of time thinking about this #oh my god wait #0+0=0 is technically also a math analogy #fuck ive done this three times #and with the mention of quantum mechanics this post outs me as a super turbo nerd multiple times

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mlobsters · 7 months

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supernatural s11e17 red meat (w. robert berens, andrew dabb)

have a vague idea this episode is gonna be difficult to watch, didn't have the emotional fortitude to watch it last night

well, sam getting shot in the cold open sure would do it.

DEAN All right, well, we make a call and we put somebody on it. SAM Yeah, but... [He sighs, closes his laptop and looks at Dean]. We'll get him back. DEAN How? SAM I... I don't know. But we'll figure it out.

i feel like an asshole but i'm like, are we talking about cas? dunno what other dude he'd be distraught over. maybe it's my total lack of emotional connection with the character but i'm just very ???? literally whatever i'm expecting they're feeling about him, i'm always wrong. broken record on that.

s11e17 / s8e23

reminded of that little smile dean gave sam when he was wrapping his hand in the church. and it reminds me of being with my mom when she was dying in the hospital. we're gonna smile and be so positive and softer than we normally would, but also try to keep it light. (i'm not sure i have the emotional fortitude for this tonight either)

not quite sure i'll ever have it to watch sam die like this. this is awful. trying to talk myself into just finishing so i don't end up crying for an extended period of time today and another day.

BILLIE It's cute, though. You pretending you're trying to save Sam for the greater good, when we both know you're doing it for you. You can't lose him.

just saw this line in an edit recently and thought it was attributed to Death, no wonder i didn't remember it.

DEAN I'm asking you... I'm begging you, please. Bring him back. Bring him back and take me instead. BILLIE I'm not here to bargain with you, kid. I'm here to reap you. And the kicker is... Sam's not dead.

here's where i'm never happy with anything. despite the unhinged love and commitment of it all, this all is really veering into emotional torture porn for me. how can we make it the worst. and then a little worse on top of that. except instead of making me irritated, i'm just more sad and want it to be over. maybe this is one i won't be able to appreciate until i have some distance.

DEAN Michelle, this is gonna be very hard. But you will be okay. And, eventually... eventually you'll get back to normal. MICHELLE No, I won't. They said I could leave an hour ago. But... where am I even supposed to go? After everything we survived together... I watched the man I love die. There's no normal after that.

not sure what this pointed zoom into dean making the sad puppy face is about. we know he can't be normal when sam dies, he knows it too?? does he remember that year with lisa and ben? and now he has the threat of not only losing sam, that sam won't be waiting for him in heaven or anywhere else if he does die.

well, fortunately we have the production draft of the script linked in the wiki for this one so actually can get answer

so i mean.. ok. both watched their husbands die is what we're saying

DEAN So, that's it, huh? Two quarts O-neg, and you're good to go.

i thought we were treating abdominal gunshot wounds like the serious emergency they are but i guess not

SAM Hey, so, what did you do? When you thought I was dead? What did you do? DEAN Thought about redecorating your room [Sam chuckles], you know, putting in a Jacuzzi, a nice disco ball... really class up the joint. SAM Right, seriously. DEAN What, I, uh... I knew you weren't dead. SAM Right. DEAN I knew.

so i mean. sam not buying that, clearly. wonder if dean ever tells him

should remember to check for a script next time i have wonderings about what they're trying to convey with their faces (went to check if they had 11x11 because i was curious about that whole pining line, but wiki doesn't have one linked)

tonal shift after the like.. heavy focus on sam (mostly) dying very... graphic in swimming around in the pain and slow death and almost-murder of it all and then we're having dean kill himself (briefly) to try to take sam's place with no consideration of repercussions, to hey dude we saved (and tried to kill sam) is a werewolf and he changed and he's gonna punch through this cop's chest cavity in a pretty silly manner. so no moral quandary killing him either, look at that. weird. anyway, the woman who played michelle was really good in those emotional scenes

i'm wiped out.

#supernatural #spnwatch #spn 11x17 #robert berens #andrew dabb

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solottrpgchronicles · 5 months

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1a. Nothing But Saltwater - The Last Tea Shop

Shop name: The Vagrant Tea Leaf

Supplies: sea salt, quartz crystal, ginkgo leaf

Days: 4

Visitor: an old sailor

At the border between the land of the living and the realm of the departed, a trail of mist leads the weary souls to a towering cliff overlooking the ocean.

There, overgrown grass sways violently in the wind; the sun is perpetually hidden behind heavy clouds, creating an illusion of impending rain that never actually arrives.

At the very top of the cliff is a somewhat precarious two-story structure made of brick and wood: a tea shop.

Worn wooden panels in a faded forest green shade frame the windows and the door. The sign says "The Vagrant Tea Leaf".

Inside, a few lights punctuate the penumbra, showing shelves upon shelves laden with an assortment of teapots, mugs, and jars holding all sorts of teas; however, strangely enough, there's only one round table accompanied by two chairs, ready for visitors.

Random phrases are scattered everywhere – on chalkboards, scraps of paper pinned to the wall, and even etched onto the furniture. Some of the messages say "Watch your step," "Savour the flavour of your memories," and "There's always time for one last cup."

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

A sailor walks in, takes off his cap, and looks around confused. It's time to start brewing my special Draft of Recall tea.

I tell him to sit down at the table, while I throw my first question at him. "Hey there, traveller. What's the last thing you remember?"

He gives me a wide-eyed look, like he didn't expect such a serious question right off the bat. But we've only got time for a cup of tea, and I'm not gonna waste it.

"Uhm…" He starts, messing with the cap in his hands. "I'm not really sure about all the details, you know? It all happened so fast… got lifted in the air, then bam, fell hard into the water. I think I sank like a sack of potatoes. But how's that possible? I spent my life at sea, and I wasn't even a good swimmer? Was I wounded? And then, no one came to help, maybe they couldn't. I hope they realized I was gone, at least."

He pauses, his voice shaky; "My life was nothing but sailing, seeing lots and lots of saltwater everyday, with wind and sun and rain on my face. I followed the captain's orders, and it suited me; I never liked making decisions. But, I was always on the sidelines, never the main character, even in my own story.

Do the crew even miss me, or anyone for that matter? I hope so. But they'll probably just say a prayer for me and move on."

The tea is ready, I bring it to him and sit down, giving a friendly smile. "What are you proud of?" I ask, after he takes a few sips.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, even though there are napkins around. "I wasn't the brightest," he begins, taking a moment to think; "but I was a hard worker, and extremely loyal. The captain... Captain Farday, that's right. I knew his father before him, he was the one who first hired me when I was a young lad. I watched his son grow up. When he took charge of the ship, most people in the crew doubted him, but not me - I knew he had the heart and the brains to be an excellent captain, and I would have followed him to the ends of the Earth. Turns out, I was right - our journeys brought us a lot of fortune, and he never refused help to anyone, no matter who needed it.

Guess that's the one smart choice I made - I could've taken orders from anyone, but I picked a good one. I saw his potential, and I'm proud to have served under him.

I hope my service was at least half as good as all the life lessons I learned from him."

I let him finish his tea in silence.

When he's done, the sailor puts his cap on and heads out. Standing at the cliff's edge, he looks peaceful, as he spreads his arms and takes in the smell of the ocean, before the mists carry him away.

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

This is a playthrough of a solo TTRPG called The Last Tea Shop, by Spring Villager.

You can check it out on itch.io: https://springvillager.itch.io/last-tea-shop

#ttrpg #indie ttrpg #playthrough #journaling #journal entry #itch.io #solo ttrpg #solo games #tabletop rpg #tabletop roleplaying #tabletop role playing game #the last tea shop #tea #teapot #tea cup #memories #melanchonic #nostalgia #tw death

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ambrossart · 2 years

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The final part is still a major work in progress, but I should have it finished within the next few days or so. Also, I know I said it wasn’t going to be very long, but... nope, I guess I was wrong.

Anyway, here’s a sneak peek of the intro!

Like I said, it’s an early draft, and it’ll probably get hacked up in the final edits, but it’ll give you an idea of what’s coming. A good chunk of the ending is from Eddie’s perspective, and I love it so much! 😍

Eddie was more than a little caught off guard when you suddenly wanted to join his summer D&D campaign.

You were popular, you were on the volleyball team, and he was just the trailer park kid whose father was constantly in and out of prison. “Eddie Munster”—yeah, that’s what they called him (because he listened to heavy metal, dressed all in black, and had the pasty complexion of someone who hadn’t seen the sun a day in his life). He was confident that ninety percent of the student body had no idea what his actual name was. To them, he was simply Eddie Munster, the kid destined to spend his life behind bars.

Needless to say, Eddie was a little skeptical when Jeff called an emergency meeting in the science lab two weeks before the last day of school. He said he had a friend (“Well, actually she’s my lab partner”) who was interested in joining their summer D&D campaign, an intense and insanely immersive three-month-long crusade that Scott Sloman spent the entire school year working on. It was his pride and joy, his magnum opus, and Scottie would never waste such a masterpiece on a new player.

Unless, of course, that new player was a girl.

Scottie’s wandering hands came to rest on a clumsy stack of ungraded quizzes. He picked it up and tap, tap, tapped the pages neatly into order.

“Is she cute?” he asked Jeff, with no shame at all.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “No, Scottie, she’s not cute. She’s just really, really annoying.”

Scottie said, “Oh, so you know her?”

And Eddie felt his whole body recoil from that grossly incorrect assumption. “What?” he said. “No, I don’t know her. I just… I just know who she is, that’s all.”

Eddie first saw you at the middle school talent show. Corroded Coffin had just finished their first performance in front of a live audience. They played Judas Priest’s “Rock Forever” because it was the only song the principal didn’t immediately reject for having violent, anarchic, or offensively unchristian messaging.

“Why can’t you boys play something peppy, something snappy… you know, like The Beach Boys or The Beatles?”

“Dude, fuck The Beatles.”

Eddie didn’t care. He just wanted to play some music. Throw himself in it. Lose himself in it. Forget about his shitty, miserable life for just three and a half minutes.

That night, in front of a packed audience of students, faculty, family and friends, Eddie Munson strummed the final power chord and felt the notes clash against each other and crash into a concrete wall of pure silence. The illusion had shattered. Eddie was back in reality. Grounded in it. Sinking in it like quicksand. He staggered back and looked out, shielding his eyes from the glaringly bright stage lights, and in the silence he heard a sound that made his stomach drop.

Someone was laughing. Laughing at him.

Eddie tracked the sound, his eyes darting anxiously around the faceless crowd, and he found you giggling in the third row with your hands over your face. Giggling yourself to tears. Eddie would never forget that sound for as long as he lived.

“Oh, she’s that girl, huh?” Scottie swiveled around in the teacher’s chair like a movie villain. “So Munson’s little heckler has finally come to ruin D&D for him… Now that should make for a very interesting campaign. I like it. She’s in.”

Eddie jumped to his feet. “Hey, you don’t get to decide that!”

“Umm, I’m the Dungeon Master. It’s my campaign, and I’ll decide who plays it. Keep giving me lip, Munson, and you can find something else to do with your summer vacation.”

“Fine,” said Eddie with a defiant shrug. “If she’s in, I’m out.”

Grant gasped. “What? Dude, you can’t be serious.”

And Jeff said, “Awww, come on, man! You can’t just skip the summer campaign. We’ve been looking forward to this all year.”

Scottie called for silence with his hand. “Hey, if Eddie the Craven wants to run away from a twelve-year-old girl, let him. I mean Jesus, Munson, do you even hear yourself right now? So a girl laughed at you… Who cares? She’s not the first and she definitely won’t be the last. We’re freaks, dude. It comes with the territory. Either ignore it or embrace it like I do. You can’t spend the rest of your life hiding from girls.”

“I’m not hiding from girls,” Eddie said. “I just… Look, why do we play D&D?”

Jeff said, “Because it’s fun,”

Eddie pointed at him exuberantly, a huge grin spreading across his face. “You’re damn right, it’s fun—it’s the best fucking game in the world!—but even more than that, it’s an escape, right? It’s the one time when we can do whatever we want, be whoever we want, and we don’t have to worry about the cool kids making fun of us, girls laughing at us, being knocked around or thrown into dumpsters…”

Scott looked over at Grant. “You still smell, by the way.”

Eddie went on: “My point is, D&D is our only safe haven, you guys. And yeah, maybe one day we won’t need it so much. I mean, shit, maybe we’ll get to high school and, y’know, everything will magically get better. Maybe we won’t be seen as the freaks anymore. I don’t fucking know. But right now, we need it. And I’m telling you, if we let that girl in… if we let her into our safe haven, she’s gonna poison everything, man. She’s gonna make fun of our characters and laugh at us when we narrate their actions, and then we’re all gonna feel self-conscious and we’re gonna start to pull back, and then—shit—then the whole game becomes pointless. Then it’s just middle school all over again, and I don’t wanna deal with that all summer!”

“She’s not joining to make fun of us,” Jeff said in a tired, pleading voice.

Eddie didn’t believe him. “Oh yeah? Then why is she joining? Y/N doesn’t even like fantasy, so why does she suddenly wanna join our campaign? Huh? If not to make fun of us, then why?”

Jeff’s mouth opened and closed helplessly. “Well, I… I don’t… Hey, you’d have to ask her that, man. I’m just the messenger here.”

Scottie huffed impatiently and spun around in his chair. “Oh my god, this is getting ridiculous now… Look, how ‘bout we just vote, okay? Is that fair enough for everybody? Everyone who wants to hang out with a cute girl all summer—”

“I already told you, she’s not cute.”

“—a girl who Eddie claims is not cute, but honestly he’s probably just saying that because he wants to keep her all to himself. If that sounds at all appealing to you, please raise your hand now.”

Scottie’s hand flew up as soon as he finished speaking. Then, slowly, Jeff’s hand went up as well.

“And all opposed?”

Eddie and Grant raised their hands.

Scottie leaned back and put his feet on the teacher’s desk. “Well, it looks like we have a tie, gentlemen… and when there’s a tie, the Dungeon Master gets the final say, so…”

“Dude, that’s bullshit!” Eddie shouted. “Gareth isn’t even here to vote.”

“Well, that’s because Gareth is doing finger paintings in elementary school right now. He’ll get a vote as soon as he hits puberty, okay? Until then, I’m pulling rank here, and I say she’s in. There. It’s decided. It’s happening. Get over it, Munson. Jeff, go tell your cute little female friend she can join our campaign.”

“You can tell her yourself,” Jeff said. “She’s waiting right outside.”

Everyone cried out at once: “WHAT?”

#sneak peek #dancing with myself #dwm #I finally get to write some middle school scenes #also I love scottie #ambrossart

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littlesunnypepper · 2 years

Text

Rooted🥀

contains: hanahaki < a disease that makes one cough up flower petals when they suffer from unrequited love >

+ blood and mention/s of death

word count: nonexistent

a/n: this had been in my drafts for so long, finally it had seen the light of day! this was actually my first written work but it's only lately i finally decided on a muse. my second fanfic, at last. not requested, totally self-indulgent. masterlist on the works.

You stared at the mint colored petal wrapped in scarlet. You were stupid. Still am stupid. But how do you stop?

It was pretty cliche how you fell for him. He was your protector, your sunlight, and your shoulder to cry on. You were bestfriends for as long as you could remember and it didn't even sink in to you that you started developing more than friendly feelings for him.

Until one day you started coughing up petals.

You had initially denied it was him, so afraid to cross the invisible line of friendship and romance. But every petal you held in your hands were this beautiful pale mint color, his favorite color ever since you were kids. It was even more stupid to deny it for longer.

In passing, you had heard about this disease. You had felt pity for the others who were not so lucky to have their love reciprocated. You had brushed it off, laughed it off, proclaiming you won't be as stupid as to fall for someone who won't love you back. What happened to that confident woman now? Is she still laughing?

Maybe. But now she's laughing at you.

You mentally slapped yourself from your reverie. You flushed the mint colored petals and hoped for your predicament to get better. Maybe it won't but what else do you have to lose?

Besides, today is special. He had asked to meet today. He wanted to show off this quaint coffee shop he found and you couldn't refuse his invitation. More like, he wouldn't let you. He kept begging you for days, looking at you with those puppy eyes of his so how could you say no.

He was already waiting for you once you got to your meeting place. He was fidgeting as he always did when he was nervous. It sent a flurry of butterflies in your stomach, thinking that he may be nervous meeting you. A spark of hope lit up in you. Maybe. Just maybe...this disease would end as soon as it came.

"Hey. You came! I thought you'd ditch at the last minute." He said while flashing that smile of his which made his eyes crinkle and his dimple to show. It was enough for you to rush to the nearest bathroom and throw up the petals you had held in the moment you saw him.

His face was etched with concern as soon as you returned. He knew something was off and even the smile you gave him wasn't enough for him to let that slip.

"You know, let's do this some other time. You don't look too good. You look really sick. You should've told me earlier."

"Don't overreact. I'm fine." You lied through your teeth. "Besides, you were basically on your knees, begging to go out today."

"We can reschedule. It's fine."

And so he had his way and he started to walk you home, arm slung comfortably on your shoulder. It made you ache inside as you fought the flowers to not resurface at this moment.

"I'm sorry for spoiling today." You whispered, afraid to speak any louder in case the petals sneak and show themselves.

"It's okay. She'll understand."

"She?" You asked as you looked up at him, looking guilty like he let a big secret out.

"Uhh... Yeah. I'm actually seeing someone." He said, a blush steadily creeping in his cheeks. It made the ache you were feeling a little bit stronger as you saw that tinge of color. He was blushing. "She's important to me and I wanted you to meet her 'cause you know, you're my bestfriend."

God. How could you be so cruel.

The coughing bouts you had became uncontrollable then. Petal upon petal flew from your mouth, each coated with blood. You barely flashed a look at him but it was enough for you to see the different emotions that passed through his face.

"Who?" He whispered as he crouched beside you, all the while patting your back.

"Who else?"

"Me? Why? When?" He stood up now and he brushed his hair in frustration. He knew the repercussions of your disease. "Why? We..."

"We're bestfriends. I know. You've made that clear the first time."

"I'm sorry..." He stepped forward to hug you but this time you stepped back. You had never avoided his physical affection and now that you did, it confused him for a moment before understanding your actions. "Is there nothing I can do?"

"I never would've gotten this disease had you done the first thing you should've."

"No... No. I-I do love you. It's just..."

"Not the same. I know. I realize that." You placed a hand on your chest, hoping it would quell that incoming cough again. "I knew the consequences of my emotions. It isn't for you to bear. Just go. Please. Go."

"But..."

"GO."

You saw his back slowly turning on you. You saw him taking slow, cautious steps away from you. You felt even emptier as he left you alone. It was the right thing to do and yet the pain in your chest persisted and grew.

You didn't resist it now. The blood-stained petals came and they would eventually grow and take root until you draw your last breath.

(&)

#astro scenarios #astro angst #jinjin angst #jinjin scenario #jinjin imagine #jinjin x reader

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vapemaster42069 · 1 year

Note

🤡 ⛔ 🦅

:D hello!!

🤡: i have a little unposted thing imma stick under a readmore below because i was hysterically giggling the entire thing i wrote it and idk if i'll ever post it lols. here: !!

⛔: oh my gosh, so many. i'm notorious for starting fics and never completing them because of one reason or another; usually i lose inspiration or get a new idea to hop on. most recently, i was planning a 20+ chapter fic that i had about a half planned and a third written that follows a scarian life series+hermitcraft timeline. mainly, i wanted to write the angst bc that's waht i enjoy lols. (ok so. respongin to this actually inspired me to finish a scene so i might end up posting at least one part somewhere lmao, can always rely on you for inspo :] ). uhh, another one was just a party during the hc/empires crossover, one was a jrwi riptide hamlet au, there was a thanatos backstory thing that was Very similiar to Kaladin from TWoK if you're into that, there was a southlands coffeeshop/pottery class thing, much ado twelfth night au because i thought the convolution was funny, and a lot of chatfic-style crack stuff that i live for but will Never see the light of day

🦅: depends on the fic! i have a doc where i scribble down ideas, quotes, or good sentences, so sometimes i'll go off that and ball with whatever strikes inspiration, but i do have a tendency to do specific au's where i know where it's going! (rip jrwi twelfth night au draft you will be missed. ao3 draft deletion hates me fr). kinda off-topic but i feel like i frequently have a starting point and an ending point, especially for longer works, and i have a really hard time filling in the in-between scenes! probably, i should outline more than i do lmao.

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"Joel, have you gotten shorter?"

"I- What? No!"

"No, I swear you look shorter." Grian paused and backed up, looking him up and down quizzically. He rubbed his chin to hide the quirk of a smug smile. "Scar, come look at Joel. Does he look any shorter to you?"

Scar, who had been slowly picking the leaves off of a plant, wheeled around. "Hey, yeah, he does, now that you mention it!"

"Scar!"

"Weren't you like 11 foot last time I saw you? You only look like 10'8 now," He leaned back in his chair, lifting a hand as well to scratch at his beard.

"Must have taken out the lifts in his shoes," Grian nodded sagely.

"Grian!"

"Little Timmy's rubbing off on you now, Joel--"

"I do not have lifts in my shoes!"

"--Every time you visit him, you get smaller."

"I do not-- I am not-- wait! I'm 11 foot, still!"

"It's okay, Joel," Grian couldn't hide the amused lilt in his voice, "Us short kings have to stick together."

"Us-- HUH? I am not a short king!"

"What's this about short kings?" Sausage, ever with good timing, strolled around the corner and casually leaned on a fencepost next to Grian, propping an elbow on his shoulder. He leaned over and promptly toppled over with a yelp when the unsupported pole moved, before Grian hopped out of the way, grabbing him before he could smack his head on the ground. "I love sho-- waAAAH-- thank you, Grian--I love short kings. I am a short king! What do you have against short kings, Thunder Cheeks?"

"Hold on--"

"Nothing, Sausage! I'm just not one!"

"--Thunder Cheeks?" Grian squeaked.

"Oh, yeah, Joel's Thunder Cheeks, or Thunder Daddy! When his cheeks clap, thunder happens!"

"... I don't know how to respond to that,"

"Which cheeks?"

"Scar!"

"Whichever ones you want to,"

"Joel."

"That an offer?"

"Scar."

"Only if you want it to be,"

"Joel, I swear to god,"

Sausage giggled, his eyes alight. He had, evidently, already had his third cup of coffee today, based on his buzzy hands as he spoke. "You know what we gotta do, the four of us, is go to my tavern sometime! It could be like a double date, I'll show you a dance!"

"Like a-- no, Sausage, we aren't-- I mean, I haven't--" Grian could feel his face burning, "Scar, back me up here,"

"I'd love to go on a double date with you, Sausage! Would Joel and Grian be together, then?"

"Uhh. I mean, sure! Totally..." Sausage sideyed Grian, who looked away, desperately fanning his face to try to ease his blushing. It wasn't working very well, "So, you and I, and Grian and Joel! it's a date!"

"A double date! Oh my gosh, Grian, I'm so excited, we gotta get you out of that red sweater and into something snazzy?"

"I-- Scar, I look so snazzy in this sweater!"

"I mean," Scar wiggled his fingers at Grian, his eyes lighting up, "You're adorable with it on--" Grian squeaked. "--but not formal, like for a date! Come on, let's get dressed up all fancy!"

Sausage clapped his hands, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Ooh, Scar, I might have this beautiful vest that might fit you, if you need one? The color would really pop on you."

"Oh, maybe! I could show you the shirt I had in mind, if you'd like!"

"I'd love to! Oh my goodness I'm so excited, maybe we could match shirts..." Sausage trailed off as he dragged Scar away by the hand, grinning, going a nerve-wracking speed down one of the hills surrounding Sanctuary, towards the nether portal.

"In about 5 seconds we're going to hear a crash, aren't we,"

"Most likely." Joel turned to Grian, a smug look on his face. "Anyways, Grian."

"Don't you dare."

Joel grinned, crouching down to his height. Grian scowled. It was a bit funny, as Joel was approximately 6 feet taller than Grian was, so he was fully doubled over in a squat to meet his eyes. "Got your eyes on someone, pretty bird?"

Grian covered his face, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. "Joel, I swear to god--"

"I won't tell him!” Grian looked up at him.

“Promise?”

“Promise. But I can’t guarantee I won't never blackmail you for it,”

Grian sighed. “I guess that’s all I can hope for,”

“Are you– is it that uncomfortable to go on a double-date with him there? Because, I mean, I could invite some other Empires members too if you think it’d help. Make it more like a server party than a date?”

“That–” Grian paused, looking extremely relieved, “I don’t want to ruin it for you and Sausage, but that would be a lifesaver, I think.”

“Then it’s done! We can probably drag Timmy in, and if he comes, Tango and Scott will come, which will get Oli, and Sausage can get Keralis, which means Jev will come, and I can probably get Lizzy, who will get Doc and Impulse, and– Well, we can figure out the specifics later, I’ll text Sausage.”

Grian sighed. "Well, what are you wearing?"

"Uhh. This?"

"You're wearing that to our date? Wow, Joel. I see how it is," Grian mock-pouted.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" Joel startled, playfully indignant.

"It's not bad, you just wear it every day!" Grian winked, "Let's get snazzy."

#sorry this took so long was working on an essay!#aliveburs hello!#pickle answers #heehee #my writing

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