#i should hopefully be caught up by the time they decide to release the next album which i kinda have a feeling will be | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hipstergecko · 8 months

Text

Okay people! DP X DC idea time!

This hit me like a trainwreck and I must release it into the wild. Will I write this properly one day?

Anyway!

Let's think about sensory deprivation tanks. Danny phantom. What if the thermos acted like one? It was only meant for short term storage. What if the Fenton's built a coffin like one meant for long term?

And they caught Danny first?

—---

The Fenton's newest invention "ghost in a box" had caught him. It was a dumber bigger heavier version of the thermos and somehow they managed to catch him right as he was falling to earth after a nasty hit to the jaw from the latest ghost of the week.

He propped himself up on his elbows and hissed through his teeth. Better to get out of this box quickly. His parents probably couldn't handle this guy. Using the bright glow of his eyes, he examined the inside of his new holding cell. It was fairly big. Big enough for him to roll about and prop himself up on his elbows. There was 10 inches or so of watery ectoplasm sloshing around him as he moved and shifted. Surprisingly comfy too. At least compared to the cramped space of the thermos.

Without the glow of his eyes it was dark. Completely dark. The kind of dark that makes you wonder if you really had that hand on front of your face. And it was quiet. The only sounds were the faint sloshing of the ectoplasm and his own breathing.

He saw the faint line of the lid and tried with all his might to push it open. His ghostly strength didn't seem to do much. He was panting by the time he decided to try to phase through it instead. He ended up with a sore head for his efforts. Airtight, watertight and ghost proof.

There was no way out.

He tried his phone which had luckily enough survived the fight.

No service.

Danny sighed heavily and lay back in the water, staring at his phone with a tired frown. So much for luck. Hopefully, Tucker, Sam, or Jazz would break him out before school tomorrow.

The silence was so strange. He'd never been somewhere this quiet before. Even the ghost zone at its most peaceful had the sounds of flowing ectoplasmic winds. He felt his eyelids fall shut as he slipped into a doze. He was frankly exhausted from everything that had happened that day and needed a nap. So he took one as he waited for someone to open the box.

But Nobody did. Nobody could. Apart from his friends and sister, nobody cared to.

You see, immediately upon his capture, the elder Fentons rushed the box back to the lab for testing. After several hours they had declared the invention a success. As long as no one opened the box, the ghost couldn't escape.

Meanwhile Tucker, Sam, and Jazz were consumed with worry. They hadn't seen Danny get captured, but after Jack and Maddie proclaimed Phantom was caught the next day on the news, they feared the worst.

Jazz confronted her parents about Phantom in the box, but she was kindly and lovingly dismissed. You see, they had given it some thought and finally agreed with their daughter that ghosts too dangerous to be studied should just be caught and dealt with humanely. A compromise. Sure they couldn't do all the tests they wanted, but they would rather have their town and family safe.

The "Ghost in a box" was equipped with noise canceling movement dampening ecto-sustaining technology. In essence a sensory deprivation tank. The ghost would be kept safe until they were docile enough to be released for study or simply turned back into base ectoplasm to be recycled for something else.

But they didn't know about cores.

And they didn't know about Danny.

Cores would not dissipate like regular formless ectoplasm. They would remain even as the physical form of the ghost melted away as their consciousness faded into everything and nothing within the box.

But Danny wouldn't. Jazz knew that Danny couldn't.

A core wasn't made to house a human. A ghost, who was the personification of a person's emotions the moment they died, a being made of obsession, could be condensed and made dormant inside the fragile safety of a core. But a human flesh and bone body? A heartbeat? He would always be there. Able to be sucked in a thermos, yes. Ghost in a box, yes. His ghostly abilities made him pliable enough. But into his core? Never going to happen.

His heart and core were very different, but worked together in harmony. Neither could exist without the other. Neither could be taken out without issue. (The ghost catcher notwithstanding. Freaky duplication personality splitting weirdness) Should his heart vanish into the core, it would die. Hearts do not take compression and dormancy well. Should his heart be removed, the core would have no filter and overtake the body, burning it into pure ectoplasmic fire.

Danny was the perfect balance. His heart strengthened his core and his core energized his heart. He could not be easily shattered or dissipated. But this meant he also could not retreat into his core when his mind or body failed him.

He had to remain fully formed. Fully in ghost form. The ectoplasm that was being cycled through the box made sure he was stable, but he would suffocate and starve if he became human.

He was well and truly stuck.

Jazz begged and pleaded with them to let him go. The psychological damage would be so severe if he stayed in longer than a few hours. But their success had blinded them to the point of pride. Instead they praised her for her empathy and willingness to study the obsessions ghosts were known for.

They only really started listening to her after Danny had been missing for an entire week. And even then it was just a call to the police and a search to hunt "they ghost who took our baby boy".

(Did Jazz ever break down and tell her parents the truth? Who knows.)

Perhaps the worst part was that his loved ones couldn't even get to the box. It had been locked up in some government facility almost immediately after the Fenton's announced their success. The patent was sold to the government for a truly amazing amount of money.

Danny was out of reach.

It was only after months of petitioning and rallying and absolutely threatening Vlad with ruining his political reputation, Sam was able to gain access to the box to "see for herself if they were truly as humane as the Fenton's claimed". She had 20 minutes with the box and she and Tucker did everything they could to open it.

Nothing worked. No hacking or code they tried could open it. They had no power tools or weapons to try attacking it with. For 20 minutes they tried.

For 20 minutes they failed.

There was nothing they could do. They were escorted from the premises kicking and screaming.

Meanwhile the product went viral. Some opposed it, some praised it. The Fentons became famous for the "ghost in a box". Soon they were available widespread. Ghosts were being caught left and right and safely contained. most of whom were peacefully living out their afterlives in their chosen haunt.

Many ghosts were caught actively seeking Phantom. Skulker, Ember, some invisible ghost kid, a great hairy looking wolf man, and more. Ghosts were being caught all over the country. None of them could escape once they were put in the box. And none of the other ghosts knew what was truly happening to their kind. They only knew that if you went into the human realm, you didn't come back.

Surprisingly enough, Vlad was eventually the one to put a stop to it. By forcibly closing the portals. The Fentons were too busy with their manic search for their son to rebuild their own portal. (And even if they tried after jazz told them the truth, would it have even worked?) His own portal was hardly ever used anymore. Mostly because alongside the "ghost in a box", the Fenton finder and ectoplasmic tracker were also extremely popular tools for ghost catching. It was too risky to activate his personal portal. If he was caught, he was as good as dead.

But he too was eventually caught.

Somebody had finally looked into his shady dealings. Suspicious of him, and not wanting to rule out anything ghostly, they opened a box on him during a packers game.

He never saw it coming.

Eventually almost every ghost people across the world knew of were caught. The U.S. government paid for the boxes and had them categorized and stored deep underground in a ghost proof facility that slowly faded from history.

But what about Danny?

Let's ask a different question. Do you know what happens when a human stays too long without sensory input?

The hallucinations started when his phone battery gave out.

—————

The justice league had been an entity for quite some time now. Long enough that they felt secure in digging down into the underbelly of various world governments to root out world ending threats at the source. Especially after what had been going on with CADMUS and their government sanctioned cloning operation.

Someone (the flash? Batman? TBD) finds old records of a bunker buried deep under the earth full of something called "ectoplasmic" radiation. For the safety of the nearby town of Amity Park, they felt the need to dig it up and clean it out.

Upon entering the bunker in full OSHA approved hazmat, they find strange looking boxes. Boxes upon boxes stretching for at least a mile, maybe more if there are sublevels. Each box is labeled with a number. The first one they find is marked 3278 (or some other arbitrary number). All the boxes are sealed tight with no known way to open/dispose of them.

Most of the heroes agree just to let the bunker be. It was sealed and doing no visible harm to anyone or the environment.

But Batman (or other super? Dealer's choice) decides to do a bit more looking.

He stalks through the boxes, noting the numbers, the lights saying 'occupied' and 'dissolved'. Many of the boxes are buried deep. He can really only observe the ones close to the walkways.

He walks all the way to the very bottom. The very end of the bunker. Where there is a solitary box set on a raised platform. It is labeled number 1. The lights flash 'occupied'.

'Corporeal'.

He takes it back to the watchtower for analysis.

——————

The justice league cannot safely open the box. Any attempt to break it open could compromise whatever is inside. Scans do not indicate what could be inside.

More research is done into these boxes. Nothing digital is found. Eventually someone looked through some old offices stationed outside the bunker and finds patents for the boxes. Dr.s Fenton describe in detail what the box does and how to use it. It was meant to never be opened by anyone without the proper DNA match.

Apparently Jack Fenton, understanding that ghosts can possess people (read overshadow) coded the box to reject anything that had human DNA in it. He had to manually override the security to open the boxes. Which included several (read 100) security questions and passwords pertaining to Jack directly.

So only someone completely non human and non ectoplasmic could open the box.

Good thing they had aliens on payroll.

—————

Superman pressed his thumb to the scanner. There was a light beep and a sudden rush of pressurized air. A cheery voice rattled out of a small speaker embedded in the box's control panel.

"Wow! I don't know how you found an alien, but well done! Please enjoy your docile ghost or ectoplasmic goo! Thank you for using the Fenton GHOST IN A BOX! Patent pending please don't sue."

Superman, startled by the sudden voice, took a step back. The lid of the box opened slowly the inside dark. Toxic looking green mist sluggishly broiled out of the box. It spread almost like fog across the floor.

A black hand with abnormally long and skeletal fingers stretched slowly rose out of the mist, rising to grip the side of the box.

All the superheroes were immediately on edge. Hands flying to weapons and dropping into fighting stances. Superman himself jumped back to guard against whatever was coming out of the box.

What emerged was frankly horrifying to look at. A black mass of bulbous limbs and... Tentacles? Were those tentacles? Claws and teeth scrabbled at the edges of the box until the entire bulk of the thing fell from the edge, squelching with whatever liquid had been inside. It hit the floor of the watchtower with a wet sounding thud.

There was an immediate reaction among the heroes.

"Oh gross!"

"That... What IS that?!"

"Eugh..."

"It's not human, that's for sure!"

"Someone find a member of JLD!!"

"Get Constantine up here!"

Amidst the noise the thing on the floor writhed about. All over it's amorphous body, eyes opened. Countless eyes appearing all over it's form. They were the same toxic green color as the mist, but brighter.

The eyes rolled about and winced. The thing shuddered as if in pain and the eyes squeezed shut back into the void. Instead, teeth appeared, countless mouths inside mouths and razor sharp teeth upon teeth. It scrabbled on the floor and opened it's countless mouths.

And screamed.

Heroes threw their hands over their ears in an attempt to stop the sound. Those with enhanced hearing took it the worst. Superman himself was forced to kneel, hands pressing to the sides of his head desperately. It sounded like the screams of the damned. Of someone dying. Of thousands suffering. He couldn't move, couldn't react. It was going to drive him mad if it didn't stop.

It came almost in waves, battering against the triple reinforced windows protecting the inhabitants from space. Lights above their heads popped and broke as sound crashed about the room. Coffee mugs shattered, fuses blew, and the watchtower was plunged into darkness.

With the darkness came a panic. The screaming was unending, debilitating. Some curled into fetal positions, uncaring of their peers. Others tried to run, but with the power gone, doors wouldn't open.

Not many paid attention to the thing on the floor.

It is important to note that in attendance that day alongside batman were a few of his brood. Namely Red Robin and Black Bat. It is also important to note that Black Bat is a hero who is hearing impaired.

So of the heroes in the watchtower that day, Black Bat was the only one to focus on the amorphous thing despite the noise.

She watched the Eldritch horror even as the watchtower fell to darkness. It had too many mouths. Too many eyes. It's form was barely recognizable in the darkness, but as she watched she could see the makings of something humanoid.

It had a discernable head.

She watched it try to open its eyes various times only to see it shriek louder and shut them swiftly. It was in pain? Even though the lights had gone out? She looked at batman and the other heroes. They were screaming and yelling and trying to figure out a course of action.

She looked back at the thing. The sound beat at her ears in waves. Growing ever louder as those around her screamed in pain.

In that moment, Cass had an epiphany.

She lunged across the room, reaching Red Robin almost instantly. She allowed the sound to reach her ears as her hands left them to dig around in Tim's utility belt. She knew he had them, she'd seen him wear them often enough.

Ahah! She triumphantly pulled the headphones from a side pouch. Dick and Jason teased Tim about the headphones when he first got them for working on casefiles. They were the big chunky kind. Designed to fit over the entire ear.

Designed to be noise cancelling

She turned and sprinted towards the thing on the floor with her prize. The closer she got the worse the sound was. It beat on her brain painfully, she could feel a nosebleed trickle down her lip. Still she darted forward. She leapt ito the air, flipping upsidedown as she did. She aimed to the beings... Head? What could've been it's head... And deftly slipped the headphones onto it.

There was a flailing of... Limbs?... In her direction as she sailed through the air. She landed a bit ungracefully as the sound crashed over her again. She covered her ears with her hands and retreated, turning to face the entity as she backed away.

There were hands... Or hand like things... Clutching the headphones. Slowly the screaming dwindled. Soon it was quiet save for the cursing and crying and relief voiced by the heroes.

"Oh thank god!"

"It's over!"

"Ugh my head..."

"Is everyone okay?"

"I understand why they had that thing locked away now."

"Black Bat." Cass turned to see Batman holding his head in one hand. "What did you do?"

Cass mimed putting the headphones on. "Overstimulation." She said simply.

"What do you mean?" Batman looked to the entity. His eyes narrowed at the way it clung to the headphones. His gaze swiveled to the inky darkness of the box. An idea swirled in his brain and he nodded. "Extreme sensory deprivation."

Cass nodded, pleased.

"Batman! What happened? Are you alright?" Superman approached the pair. His voice was raised slightly. Blood dripped from his ears.

"I'm fine Superman." Batman faced him fully, moving his mouth in exaggerated syllables. "But you're not."

Superman smiled sheepishly. "I see you noticed. I can't hear anything right now." He turned towards the entity. "What do we do now? It's clearly too dangerous to simply let free." He turned back to Batman. "With the watchtower out of power the best option we have is to put it back into the box."

"Hnn..." Batman frowned. "I don't think that would work well. Based on how it reacted to light and sound, we can assume that the box was some sort of sensory deprivation tank."

"Sensory deprivation tank?"

"It's a box that cuts off all stimuli from the outside." Red Robin pulled himself off the floor with a groan. "It's a form of extreme isolation. Do you think that's why it was screaming?"

"What?"

Batman ignored Superman. "I believe so. Black Bat was the first to notice."

Red Robin squinted. "Are those my headphones?"

Cass grinned at him. "Useful."

He huffed and passed her a handkerchief from his belt. "You owe me new ones." She giggled silently and took the handkerchief, wiping away the nosebleed.

Batman grunted, gaze shifting back to the writhing mass of black in the darkness. "We'll have to quarantine this room. I don't believe trying to handle the entity would be wise."

"No kidding." Superman winced, putting a hand to his head. "But we won't be able to do much until Cyborg restores power. He was in the control room when the screaming started, right?"

Not a moment after Superman had finished speaking the backup lights came on.

And the shrieking started anew.

Heroes were once again forced to their knees as the sound hit them. Cass wasted no time and ran towards the entity. It was no longer a roiling bulbous mass, but rather had a partial humanoid form. A clear and present head and shoulders, thin long arms with hands clasped around the headphones.

She didn't know where it's eyes were supposed to be, but she didn't bother taking the time to figure it out. She ripped her cape from her shoulders and flung it over top of the entity. There was an immediate flailing of limbs and tentacles as it tried to get the offending object off.

Cass worked quickly. Pulling a blindfold from her belt, she wrapped it swiftly around the "head" of the thing in front of her. The knot was tied equally as fast, but before she could pull away, her hands were caught.

Long, impossibly long fingers held her hands in a vice grip. They were icy. So cold that it felt like her skin was burning.

But the screaming stopped.

"Black Bat!"

Cass ignored Red Robin's cry and Batman's frantic run towards her.

The entity had stilled.

It's limbs shrunk instantly, leaving almost normally proportioned arms and legs. The tentacles shrank away to nothing. The claws and fangs receding with them. The grip on her hands turned gentle, the fingers shrinking to a normal, proportional size.

Cass's eyes darted to Batman, stopping him just before he reached her. She shook her head minutely. This thing was not hostile.

It was scared.

Cass turned her gaze back to the thing and watched, tense as the fingers slowly ran up and down her hand. It felt her wrist, palm and fingers.

Slowly, the blackness faded into color. Blinding white hair fluttered with an unseen breeze. Skin tan underneath the headphones and blindfold. A tattered jumpsuit in black and white stained green.

A nose peeked out from under the blindfold. A pair of lips, thin and chapped. Freckles dotted what she could see of the cheeks.

It looked young. A young humanoid. It probably wasn't human at all but, the similarities were there. It looked like a boy. Younger than Tim, but older than Damien.

He looked thin. She traced the line of his ribs with her eyes. She would see where his hip bones jutted out. He was emaciated. Or very nearly. He looked as of he'd been starving.

She head Batman shift as he knelt beside her. She knew he'd seen it too. This boy had been tortured in extreme isolation. What had happened to him?

He didn't speak. She didn't really expect him to. He searched her hands for a moment more, before his hands stilled. Then, slowly, carefully, his fingers intertwined with hers. He gave a gentle squeeze.

She squeezed back.

The blindfold covering his eyes grew wet. The wetness seeped down the blindfold and dripped to the floor.

The boy was crying.

"You're real." Came a raspy whisper.

There was a flash of bright white light and suddenly a very starved human boy was collapsing into Cass's arms.

—————

(Cass looked up at Bruce with wide eyes, cradling the boy to herself. He now had pale skin, tattered blue jeans and a worn T-shirt. His tousled black hair was grimy with filth. Dark circles shadowed long dark eyelashes and hollowed cheeks.

Cass was suddenly sure. Whatever he was, he was hers now.

"New baby brother."

Batman sighed heavily.)

————-—

Aaaaaand I have more? Maybe? Like the idea that he has gone crazy and lost his senses for a time really appealed to me. Cue rehabilitation and him trying to free the other ghosts/Vlad and get them back to the ghost zone. Maybe try to go back in time to stop it all from happening? Idk.

I felt the need to post this before I dedicated too much time to it and wrote a multi chapter fic but never actually post it anywhere. 🫠

Tell me what you thiiiiink.

#dp x dc #danny phantom #black bat #batman #superman #i could wax eloquent on all the ways isolation warps the mind #but for this only surface level things #like “how do ears work again?”#and “what are eyes for again?”#write time #the story i might never write #who knows

743 notes · View notes

darylbrainrot · 4 months

Text

CHAPTER 01: WIP

AIYGIWGWY || GOJO X READER

How would you—a part time guitarist and streamer, react when an upcoming streamer known as gojo admitted to liking your music and streams?

As he sat down on his chair with it dipping with his added weight, he reached to his PC to start it up. He was about 20 minutes early to stream so he had to get his streaming apps ready. He wanted to keep this stream chill, he was probably some background music playing to make his stream calming (as calming as possible with his screams from playing fortnite.) As he made the sudden decision to play music on his stream, he opened Spotify as soon as his computer turned on.

He opened one of his designated playlists for streaming, some relaxing music ranging from different artists. He made sure this playlist wasn't going to get him flagged on his Twitch, something he didn't want to happen again.

He finally had his necessities opened, his discord and Spotify opened on his first monitor, his Twitch ready to stream on his third monitor, and finally his main monitor with his game loading up. When he looked at the time, he had around 6 minutes to spare before starting up his stream. With his extra time, he decided to go out of his room to his shared dorm with suguru to grab some snacks.

As he made his way to the shared kitchen, he just decided to grab a Gatorade and some random candies he had stored for when he was craving them. As he was going to retreat back to his room, he heard his fellow roommate's door open.

"Suguru, you should join my stream please." He said, dragging out the please for dramatic effect.

"Hell nah, ima go to sleep anyway." The black-haired man says with a blank stare, passing Satoru as he makes a b line towards the restroom.

"What the flip man." Sighing as he made it back to his room to start up his stream.

—————————

"BROO, no fucking way he got me. He literally only got me for 50 shield." He said, falling back in his chair as his 2nd place ranking got displayed on his screen. His hands now going through his face, raking through his white hair. The soft melodies of 'Cologne' by Beabadoobee fill the stream when he is quiet. The song finished up when one of your songs replaced the quietness, it was a cover you made of 'Paul' by Big Theif.

This is when his chat started flooding with new messages, ranging from questions asking him if he liked your music to how long he's been listening to you. As his arms finally fell from his hair, he looked at his chat when he saw the flood of new texts.

"I didn't know you listened to y/n's music... of course, I listen to their music, she's like one of my favorite artists." He said after reading some questions in his chat. Snickering at his chats surprised reaction, "I'm surprised some of you guys didn't know this, I follow them on twitter and on insta and I know some of you guys stalk my following and shit" He said as he was going back to the home screen of his game, deciding that it was enough of fortnite for him after playing around 10 rounds.

“Have you seen shes working on a new song? She posted about it on her twitter” he mumbled, reading one of the texts that caught his eye. “Yeah I saw her post, hopefully she posts a clip of her song. I know it’s gonna be good though.” He grins, exited that one of his favorite artist might release a song soon.

"Anyways, ima stopping the stream here, I'm done with fortnite for today. I might stream again in the weekend though, I'll tweet about it if I do." Waving at his face cam as he ended the stream, making sure to double-check it was off. He closed off any extra tabs he had open before shutting down his PC. Once he was finally done with his computer, he stood up and went to scroll on his phone on his bed, finally relieving the ache in his back due to his bad posture.

< prev || masterlist || next >

Interact with this post to be a part of my taglist.

this isnt proof read so lmk if theres any mistakes D:

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

TAGLIST: OPEN

@bakananya, @lysaray, @reagan707, @cccccccccccleo, @samutoru, @sunaluvrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, @sur-i-ki, @rybunnie, @ramchu,

#gojosatoru #gojo #satoru #gojo x reader #gojo smau #jjk x reader #jjk smau #jujutsu kaisen #smau #jujutsu kaisen smau #jjk text #jjk tweets #jujutsu kaisen posts #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk ff #jujutsu kaisen ff

222 notes · View notes

so-mordor-itis · 1 year

Text

Behind Her Eyes

Synopsis: Ada continues to track down the amber while also running into you and Leon time and time again. Hopefully, she won't have any more distractions than she has been given. After all, she's just doing her job.

Sequel to Through Her Eyes

N/A: THIS IS BEEFY!! I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY!

WC: 3k.

Taglist: @amatxs , @airanke , @uhlunaro , @honeyfict , @im-just-a-simp-le-whore , @pepsicolacoochie , @inaflashimagine , @phoenix666stuff , @rentaldarling , @boiled-onionrings , @auxenpin-it , @starbirdfinch , @m4nd0l0r , @mahalaraewolfe , @mobbbb1 , @konigbabe , @izuniias , @tosuckmyweenis @boundinparchment

"You long to be bandaged before you have been cut." –Margaret Atwood

—

"You can stop right there, Leon. Wouldn't make me use this, would you?" Ada had pressed her pistol to one of his shoulder blades. She cocked it, letting it sit against his shirt for a second. She wanted him to know she was willing to use it if required. She meant business.

Leon dropped his weapon a second later. "Well, after six years, that's one hell of a greeting, Ada." He said her name with a bit of a bite. Not quite a sneer, but teetering toward that territory. "What's the occasion?"

Ada just smirked, tilting her head to the side. She wanted to get under his skin, because if she didn't he wouldn't be curious, and if he didn't become curious then her plan of action to steer him away from the amber would fall through the floor. He may have become more rigid with his movements, a bit snappier with his sentences, but he was still the same rookie cop she met back in Raccoon. "You don't seem surprised. Interesting."

With a single step, he attempted to grab the gun from her hand. Ada retaliated, leading to dance with Leon's knife. She blocked it several times, hoping to lead it away from anything fatal. He caught her slightly off guard when the hilt of his blade touched the red turtleneck she was wearing, and she paused. Maybe he had learned more than she thought.

"Try using knives next time," Leon said, "Better for close encounters."

"Very smooth," Ada responded. "You've learned a few tricks."

Leon ignored her comment. "Who are you working for this time? Definitely not the FBI."

"Oh, Leon," Ada tutted. "You know I don't work and tell."

Leon released the knife from her throat, placing it back into the pouch on his left shoulder. Ada observed him for a moment. He was wary, she could tell from the way he was looking around the room. Ada had a bite back a frown. His eyes were different now. His pupils were yellowish, and whites were now a bit cloudy. They must've drugged him, or maybe he was infected like the girl and the rest of Saddler's lackies. She didn't comment on it. Wasn't her place.

She didn't know what happened to you if you two split up or you simply wandered from him and lost your footing. All she knew was that she found him in this room and finally decided to show herself–well, more than she had when he was being attacked by the taller man in the trench coat. Though she had to admit it was intriguing that you weren't with him.

"Where's your little partner?" Ada asked, "I'd thought they'd be tagging alongside you."

Leon furrowed his brows. "That's something I'd like to know, too. I turned my back for one second, and suddenly, they're gone. This whole damn castle is a maze." He wasn't surprised Ada knew about you, either.

"How troubling," she murmured.

Leon didn't reply. He was lost in his own thoughts. His right hand clenched into a fist. A plan was swimming in his mind, but Ada didn't want to concentrate too hard on him.

"You should give up on the girl," she continued. "She's lost no matter what." Ada eyed the window, moonlight shining through in brilliant lines of white. She couldn't stay much longer. "You walk away now, and who knows? I might give you the greeting you were hoping for."

Leon didn't look impressed, and that made something coil in Ada's chest. "You think I'm gonna give up? Simply leave? You're wrong for thinking so." His voice was laced with annoyance.

Ada just looked at him. "Right." Opening the window, she used her grappling hook to latch onto one of the ledges of the castle. "See you around, Leon."

Though he tried to look more irritated, she saw his eyes soften for a slight second–or maybe her mind was starting to slip. She was a bit tired, but she couldn't give that any thought. Ada shook that off her shoulders the moment she landed on one of the roof shingles. One crunched under her foot as she prepared to give another report to Wesker.

–

She found you before he did. You were out of bullets, poor thing.

Hunched over a chair, you were taking a glimpse at an old map of the castle. The paper was brown and torn apart, it would've been a miracle if you could've actually interpreted the damn thing.

"Fuck," you moaned. "Why did they have to build so many passages? What is this, the 1500s?"

Ada had to prevent herself from rolling her eyes. You and Leon were definitely a lot alike. You both spoke to yourselves, talking as if there was an audience. She wondered what the point was, if it gave you two satisfaction.

A sudden thump echoed from one of the many doors in the room. Robed figures, all muttering phrases in Spanish, carried torches and maces. Your face soured into a deeply tired look. From what Ada could understand, you had empty rounds, and your knife was broken–it was on top of the table you placed the map upon, the metal pieces covering the brown paper.

The figures got closer to you, and Ada watched as your eyes fixated on one of the doors. You could try to make a run for it, bolt to the door in hopes you could find more resources. Though, how realistic is that? Ada thought.

She found herself subconsciously feeling for one of her flash grenades. Was she really going to help you at the cost of her own resources? That'd be a bit of a waste. She could easily find herself in a similar situation.

Though it would turn out she didn't need to. Your eyes brightened as you shuffled for something in your pocket. A grenade of your own, but not of the flash variety. You pulled the trigger with your teeth before tossing it.

She flew through the window to avoid the blast. From where she was, she would've definitely felt something.

Ada was a bit disappointed. She could've told Leon he owed her another favor.

She bit her lip before reaching for her radio and tracing through each signal. She estimated the closest one to her was Leon, and she guessed right.

"Leon, change your mind yet?"

"Ada?" He was surprised.

"Assuming you haven't, I got a tip for you," Ada glanced back into the castle. More robed figures began marching through doors, their speed picking up with every second. "Seems like something big is about to go down in the throne room. I also found your little friend. They're heading in that direction. Babysitting's tough, huh?"

She hung up her signal right after.

–

Ada didn't bother backtracking again. It would've torn a chunk of her time away.

She hated that something inside her wanted to.

She had radioed to him again later on, giving what she knew he'd want. He wasn't as rough as he was to her previously, perhaps because you were now there to calm his storm, or maybe he just decided to be less harsh. She didn't know, and she wanted to force herself not to care.

He wasn't her's anymore.

–

"Looking for these?" Ada dangled the keys to the boat you two occupied. Leon had been attempting to scavenge them but couldn't manage to. It was her boat, these keys were hers. She could've easily allowed you two to be deserted and not find the girl again. However, she was feeling rather generous.

She tossed them to Leon, and you eyed her form. Your brows furrowed as if you were attempting to recall if you've met her. You two haven't, technically. She knew who you were by bits and pieces, and that's all she needed. "I could use a ride myself."

You and Leon exchanged glances, but she knew ultimately that they wouldn't be given a choice. Leon knew, too. "Fine." He said.

You sat in the back, Leon very cautiously sat in the passenger’s seat because Ada offered to drive. Leon tried to be subtle about it, but Ada noticed. He glanced at you for a second before putting his eyes back to the ocean in front of him.

He was holding back words, and she knew it. "You look like you've got something to say." Ada claimed. He didn't just look it. It radiated off of his skin, and he spoke it with his eyes. He was questioning himself about why she was here, and it kept floating around inside that mind of his.

Though, she would admit she was being unfair, asking this in front of you.

Leon just said, "Nothing." And Ada clicked her tongue.

"Hm."

"Why are you here, Ada?" He blurted. It was too late to catch himself.

"As I told you, Leon, I don't work and tell."

Ada peered at you, giving a side eyed glance. You weren't asking her questions, nor were you giving her any type of expression. Your body language wasn't indicating you felt anything but indifference. You were keeping to your own business. (You glanced at Leon a few times, keeping tabs, watching his reactions. You knew him, too, it seemed.)

How polite.

Or perhaps you felt vexed and wanted to slit her throat right then and there. Either way, you were good at hiding it. (She noticed your pupils, the whites of your eyes. You were also infected, and she wondered if Leon knew, too.)

"I'm stopping here," Ada said shortly. There was a ridge up ahead on a rock she could grapple from. Krauser now had the sample, and he was making her job so much harder than it needed to be.

She stopped the boat just enough so she could stand. Ada pulled herself up. She looked back at him and winked. "Don't think too hard, handsome. See you later." The momentum of her pushing her body weight off the boat caused it to rock the both of you back and forth, Leon fought to steady it.

From the ledge, Ada could barely make out your voices.

"Old flame?" You questioned.

"Something like that," Leon grumbled in response. "It's not relevant."

"Alright, you just seemed so bothered by her."

"She's…" He paused. "Something else."

Ada expected a different phrase from him but was pleasantly surprised.

"She seems interesting."

"I don't want to think about her. Let's just focus on Ashley."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Leon's voice was softer now. "Yeah, I'm fine. You don't need to worry about me."

"What if I want to?"

Ada removed herself from the area and continued forward, not wanting to listen to anymore of your conversation.

–

Her carrier pigeon was no longer alive, creating a bigger problem. Luis had told Ada the amber was on the island, and Saddler had kept a tight leash on it. That wasn't a surprise, really. It contained the very being he and his cult worshiped. And, to make her workload harder, Krauser contained a sample of the plaga that Wesker would find fascinating. What he would do with it, she had no idea.

"Where on the island, Luis?" She inquired, flexing her fingers as she observed her nails.

"I'll take you there, just…" He paused to scratch his stubble. "Just let me finish some business first."

"May I remind you, you're under thin ice? Better to cooperate, baby."

"Alright, it's…it's in the very middle of the island. It'll be surrounded by Ganados and other not so friendly things."

She never ran into the not so friendly beings, but she did encounter many Ganados that were too trigger happy. The island itself was mostly constructed to be a weapon base–it was so obviously guarding something. With barbed wire traps and metal buildings and caves full of laboratories.

She found the amber eventually in a secluded area. It was grossly beautiful, leaving an orange glow on the floor that was reflected off of a light in the room. The smaller parasites inside reminded her of Umbrella's lab specimens. Removing this larger rock would be an issue; there would need to be a strong distraction, one that would hold their attention long enough for her to give her helicopter friend a signal to load it on.

Leon.

He would have to be her distraction.

And he was.

–

The girl lay upon a sacrificial table, black veins crawling up her arms. Leon's veins popped from his arms, blackened as the girl's. You were in the same boat, groaning in pain on your knees as Saddler began to control the parasite from within.

Ada had two choices. She could allow you and Leon to die here, being suffocated by the plaga in your systems, or she could risk it all.

Ada couldn't do it. She couldn't let him die.

She pulled out her TMP and shot Saddler with what seemed to be the entire round. "Go, Leon!" She shouted to him. "Before it's too late!"

He fell forward, catching his breath. He grabbed your shoulder and then went for Ashley, picking her up bridal style. The two of you began to push yourselves forward, but she couldn't watch now. "That's six times now, Leon." She mumbled.

Saddler managed to squeeze out every last bullet Ada had thrown at him. She had two more guns, but it wouldn't be enough. All she could do was buy more time for you guys. Maybe that's all you needed.

It wasn't long before she only had her pistol left. Saddler used one of his appendages to grab her by the leg and slammed her down on the ground. Her ears rang so loud she couldn't even hear her own heartbeat. Her mouth tasted of iron. She might've bitten her tongue without realizing it. One more smack to the head, and her world went black.

What woke her up was the hard smack of landing on the ground. Her vision was a bit blurry, but she could make Leon's figure. He was holding his pistol. You were nowhere to be found.

Ada quickly got on her feet, approaching him as Saddler appeared from behind, transforming into a hideous creature, further reminding Ada of the experiments she witnessed in the Umbrella underground lab. It had been six years, but those images would never be removed. They were stuck to her mind like glue.

Just like back then, he was her partner once more, but Ada had a feeling this would be the final time.

–

Saddler was defeated with a blow from a rocket launcher. Ada took a deep breath, rubbing her arms as they screamed at her with ache. It was over. Now, she just had to get on the damn helicopter. She gave her men the signal to grab the amber during the fight, while Leon kept him occupied, dancing to his tune. She felt a little more bad this time; she'd used him again.

The sample of the plaga rolled out of Saddler's staff and onto the ground next to Leon. Ada grabbed it before Leon could blink.

"Ada? What the hell?"

She glanced at the bottle of purple liquid with curiosity. "Nothing personal, Leon. Just business." Ada pulled a device out of her pocket and pressed a button that said,"Detonate. " She had to get rid of the evidence, after all. "Though, I definitely recommend you leave. Now."

Leon got the hint, and he sprung to his feet, his eyes wide. Ashley. You. Ada knew immediately to whom his mind went.

Her ride appeared a millisecond later, and she strided toward it, no regrets in her gait. She turned to him. "You coming?" Part of her knew his answer already, but the other part wanted him to ditch everything and just come. Come with her, talk to her. Maybe they could fix things.

"You and I both know this is where we go back to what we were, Ada," Leon said, looking her directly in the eye. "It's time to go separate ways."

"Unsurprising," she clicked her tongue, finally meeting where the helicopter leveled for her to board. She jumped, landing gracefully. "Catch," she shouted, throwing another pair of keys at him. "It's your ride home."

Leon glanced to his palm and shook his head. His lips mouthed something, but the helicopter blades were too loud for her to hear. She watched his now tiny form sprint in the opposite direction, probably now headed your way.

"You got it?" Ada demanded, placing a headset atop her ears. Helicopters were always so loud that she could never hear herself think.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Put me in," she followed. Wesker needed to know his precious Amber was secured.

A part of her wished she could see Leon one more time. To tell him things she never could.

Beneath her serious look, she always cared for him.

–

(Ingrid had ordered a chopper to find you three once you reached the ground. Ashley had immediately fallen asleep, and her head landed on your shoulder. Leon took note of it, the way you gently lifted her head so she'd be more comfortable, the way you parted her hair as a parent would. He didn't know why it made his heart feel warm.

"Did you have feelings for her?" You asked suddenly. Leon blinked. For a slight moment, he thought you meant Ashley, and he was about to be very confused. But no, you meant Ada.

"Yeah," Leon answered after a few seconds. "She made me feel like we had something back in Raccoon City. Then, well, you know how stories like this usually play out."

"She betrayed you?"

"A summary, but yes."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

You wrinkled your nose. "I didn't want to pry."

"You weren’t, I mean, she was being unfair, asking me things in front of you." Leon shrugged. "Anyone would be curious."

It was silent now. You had thoughts racing in your mind, and Leon could tell from the way your forehead wrinkled.

"I don't think about her much anymore." Leon said. "I have more important people to think about now." He was looking at you when he said that. You blinked a little before giving him an embarrassed smile.

"Alright, Mr. Kennedy, no flirting on the job."

"Mission's over, isn't it?")

–

#resident evil x reader #resident evil 4 #resident evil imagines #resident evil #resident evil 4 remake #re4 #re4r #re4r ada #leon kennedy resident evil #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon x ada #somewhat #ada wong #my writing

1K notes · View notes

reverie-starlight · 11 months

Text

crawling back to you- fushiguro megumi

just something silly I started a while back that I'm finally finishing up!! i'm very in love with megumi and since I was doing a season one rewatch with my dad, I have plenty of megumi-centered thoughts I can't talk abt with him. but I can write them!! and YES okay the title was a failed bug pun.

warnings: just fluff! death of a spider, though. megumi is a little annoyed, but it gets resolved super fast, so no angst at all.

gn! reader, no specified gender or physical description, but they do stay in the girl's dorms for this fic for the sole purpose of being nobara's next door neighbour!!

You opened your door and stopped in your tracks when you saw something scuttle across the ceiling from the corner of your eye.

A loud gasp was released and Nobara, already in her PJs, peeked out from her door to see what the fuss was. “Y/n? You okay?”

You frantically beckon her over, your eyes never leaving the beast that decided to infiltrate your room. She made it to your side and followed your eyes.

“Ew! Why’d you have to show me a spider right as I’m about to go to bed? Now I’m going to be paranoid all night, thanks a lot.” She crossed her arms and made a yuck face.

“Nobara,” you started, deadly serious, clutching her arm. “I need you to use your hammer and nails to get this thing. We don’t have to get close to it that way.”

She looked as though she was seriously considering it for a moment before reluctantly shaking her head. “Y/n, cursed energy is for jujutsu work, not creepy crawlies. Besides, it’d leave some nasty holes in your wall.”

You sighed and almost resigned yourself to having to find a long stick or something to get it with. But then she spoke again.

“What about Fushiguro? He brings out his demon dog for you to play with all the time, right? What’s one more non-curse related job for a frog who’d probably love a snack?”

This finally brought your attention away from the eight legged monster on your ceiling. You looked at her with so much admiration and thanks and hugged her tightly. “Oh, Nobara you’re a genius! Thank y-“

You visibly deflated when you realized that your boyfriend wasn’t exactly happy with you at that moment.

Nobara winced. “Ouch, is he still upset?”

You nodded and frowned. Of course this would happen at a time you didn’t have him as back up.

It was a petty argument that got you into this situation- in the shared kitchen for the students, you accidentally ate a snack of his that he had been saving, which you apologized for. Great! Should’ve been over with after that, right?

…Except you accidentally did it again the next day AND forgot to put his milk back in the fridge that he had just measured out for some recipe he was excited to try.

And even though you apologized and he reassured you that it wasn’t that big of a deal, mistakes happen, he still wasn't letting you hang out in his room after training as usual. He seemed to be annoyed with you at the very least.

With the long week he’s had from being sent on two missions back to back, you understood why. He really need the mental break that you accidentally took away.

So yeah, you really doubted that he’d be willing to kill a spider for you when he’d barely even talked to you in the past 24 hours (save for his usual good morning text and a peck on the cheek when he saw you in person).

Nobara patted your back and sighed. "I think you should go ask him anyway. He's probably suffering from Y/n withdrawals by now, you know? Yuuji said he was sure he caught Fushiguro pouting on their jog earlier. Could be a good sign."

You looked at her hopefully and smiled. "Thanks, Nobara, but I think I'll just wait until morning. I'm sure if I could just find a-" your attention was drawn back to the ceiling and a feeling of dread washed over you. "Nope, I'm going right now, the spider's fucking gone," you quickly shut your door and stepped away.

She made a blended noise of disgust and fear. "Alright, I'm out. Good luck and don't let that thing out. If I see it in my room tomorrow I'm putting my nails through your clothes." She waved and headed back to her room.

You waved back and headed the other direction, towards the boy's dorms. Since it was getting late, you had to be mindful of noise so you wouldn't get caught by any faculty member- especially Gojo.

If he were to catch you "sneaking" over to Megumi's room, you were pretty sure you'd never hear the end of it, and even more sure that it would just irritate your boyfriend further.

So you put your stealth to the test until you were finally at his door. You quietly knocked three times, hoping it was loud enough for him to hear it.

When he opened the door, he raised an eyebrow at you and checked out in the hall before dragging you inside so you could talk at a somewhat normal volume.

And of course you wanted to take the time to make everything up to him, to talk it out for real and not have him be annoyed at you anymore- if Nobara said he was starting to have Y/n Withdrawals, then you had already been feeling the effects of Megumi Withdrawals since his first mission earlier this week- but right now the most pressing matter on your mind was the spider currently lost in your room.

So you decided that sweet talking him was the way to achieve your goal of getting his help.

"Megumi, love and light of my life, my one and only, my beloved-"

"Please stop."

You got down on your knees and took hold of his hand. "I am so sorry that I have ailed you this week, I promise that I will be more mindful moving forward and use my eyes to look for your name on things in the fridge-"

"You don't have to beg for my forgiveness, get up." He was basically a tomato, his whole face red and slightly covered by his hair. If you weren't on such a time crunch, you might keep going just to tease him.

"And I come to enlist your help on a quest that only you have the required tools to complete!"

"Ah, there it is. So you just need my help, then?" He tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice, but you caught it and immediately stood up to explain yourself.

"Baby, no, I do genuinely want to apologize and fix things! But um... yes, I do actually have a problem that only you can help me with."

He sighed and regarded you for a moment before nodding. "Alright, what is it?"

You immediately lit up and shook his hand excitedly. "Really? Thank you so much!"

"So... what is it?"

"There's a spider in my room, and I lost it and I need your toad to eat it."

He gave you a deadpan look before throwing his head back with a long sigh, looking at the ceiling. "Alright, let's go."

On your way back to your room, you fell into silence. Mostly because you didn't want to get caught being out past curfew, but also because neither of you really knew what to say.

Once you were in front of your door, you opened it and let him in. He summoned his toad and helped you search for it (by helped, you really meant he did all the searching while you stood outside and quietly directed him to where you saw it last.

"Can you at least come and help me look?" He asked, currently looking around on the floor under a couple of bags.

You hesitantly walked in, surveying everything before standing next to him to double check.

He broke the silence first. "You know... I really wasn't mad at you for any of the kitchen stuff. I know I told you that already, but I feel like you don't believe it."

You sifted through some clothes. "No, I did. I guess I was just sad that you weren't letting me hang out with you as much. I totally understand it- you needed a break from everything and I respect that, but I wish I could have helped before you got to that point. And I'm serious, I'll keep a better eye out before I accidentally eat your stuff." you both kind of laughed at that.

It was silent again for a couple seconds. "I'm sorry I kind of pushed you away and isolated myself."

You smiled a bit. "I'm sorry I kinda tipped you over the edge."

You turned to face each other for a moment before he wrapped you up in his arms. "You didn't. I promise next time I feel overwhelmed I'll let you know so you don't think I'm upset with you," he mumbled.

"Thank you... I love you."

"I love you too."

You stayed like that for a moment before you pulled back a bit and smirked at him. "Nobara told me that Itadori said you were pouting on you jog together earlier."

He blushed. "I was not. He doesn't know what he's talking about."

You giggled a bit and cupped his face. "I would bet a million yen that you were!"

He groaned and tried to gently pry your hands away from his face. "Stop it... I was not pouting, I don't pout."

"You so do! You're doing it right- holy shit Megumi the spider is right there gET IT PLEASE-"

The sweet moment was ruined by the spider from earlier scuttling across the ceiling over your bed. You jumped onto your boyfriend for protection, even though he couldn't do much while supporting your entire bodyweight so you wouldn't fall. He managed to send the toad after it, and it happily chased it with its tongue.

The spider was no more.

You settled back on the ground and patted the toad on the head before Megumi released it back to the shadows.

You sighed in relief.

"Thank you, my love, I appreciate it."

He nodded at you. "No problem. I should head back to my dorm now before-"

"Want to stay with me?" You tentatively interrupted.

He paused and looked towards you. "We'll get in trouble if we're caught."

You tugged on his hand a little. "Please, Megumi? I've missed you this week..."

He sighed and let you pull him to your bed, hiding a small smile when you cheer. "Fine, but I'm leaving before the sun comes up. I'm not letting Gojo think he has anything over me."

You giggled. "That's fine," and then you both got settled under the covers.

He'd be lying if he said he hadn't missed you while he was isolating himself, but he pushed any thoughts of that away and fell into a peaceful sleep with you in his arms.

this took foreverrrrr but it's finally done since I have time to write today!! ty for reading, hope you all enjoyed <3

#megumi x reader #jjk megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fluff #megumi fushiguro fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff

597 notes · View notes

dankfarrikfifi · 5 months

Text

The Birthday Bash

Pt 1 of Some Version of You, 4.8k

A/N: contains mentions of smoking and drug use, a cute first encounter, and a few kisses. reader is not described other than being shorter than Frankie, wearing glasses, and having hair long enough to braid. This is my first ever fic, I’m hoping you guys like it! Reader has a name in my mind but I liked keeping it open for you to decide. Let me know what you think! Hopefully I’ll have the second part up soon :) Will get more explicit as the story goes on.

For as long as you could remember, your birthday was never your own. Sometimes it was a point of contention, but because it was shared with your lifelong best friend, Benny Miller, you couldn’t be too mad about it. Since you were 4 and Benny was 6, the two of you had shared a party, your “Birthday Bash” as it had come to be called. By the time you were turning 24, this had not changed.

People were piled into every corner of the backyard of the house you shared with Benny, some your closest friends, others very vague connections that were simply capitalizing on the opportunity to party. There was a fire blazing in the pit, and the pool was threatening to spill over with the amount of bodies filling it, despite the slight chill that had settled in the air. Benny, being the social butterfly that he is, was wandering around, greeting guests and chatting with anyone who came his way. You, on the other hand, were observing from a distance, perched on the retaining wall in the back of the yard with Benny’s brother. Will Miller, being the oldest and more reserved of the brothers, was content to share a quiet moment with you, passing a joint back and forth.

“Ya know,” Will said before releasing the smoke he had been holding in his mouth, “You should probably go greet some of your guests, be a nice host.”

“As if,” you nudge his shoulder with yours, almost knocking the both of you over in your haze. You erupt in a fit of giggles, a sound that should not come out of a man his size escaping Will. “We all know Benny is the social twin and I’m the antisocial one.”

“I thought twins were normally the same age,” he has made this argument countless times, and it’s almost automatic at this point, “And also, had the same parents.”

You roll your eyes, not bothering to fall into the trap of arguing this one out with a high Miller boy. Instead, you motion for the joint, pulling your hands around the lighter as the flame flickers. You’re midway through a deep inhale when you look up and notice the two men walking towards you. And at the sight of the taller one, the breath gets caught in your throat, and the coughing starts up. You feel like you can’t breathe, from the combination of smoke burning in your lungs and the incredibly attractive man.

“Jesus, dude, what’s wrong with you?” Will is laughing, patting your back in a lame attempt at easing your suffering. You finally manage a deep breath in as the two men finally reach you. The shorter of the two looks around 30, short kept curly hair and some stubble across his cheek. You vaguely recognize him, trying to place his face while also checking out the other one. He’s tall. Like really tall, at least compared to you. His handsome, boyish face is clean shaven, and his dark brown hair looks as if it’s a few months out from a buzz cut.

“I’m good, I’m good,” you manage to get out, “lost my breath there for a second.”

“It’s because we’re just that damn good looking, Miller.” the shorter one greets with a sharp grin on his face. Will flips him the finger, before standing up and man-hugging them each. They pat each other on the back and grin, and you realize why they had looked so familiar. You had seen them in the pictures Will had saved from the army.

“Santi, glad to see you’re still an arrogant asshole,” Will shoots back as he sits next to you, gesturing for the men to sit on the bench situated across from the two of you. “Fish, looking good, how are you doing?”

“Doing good, Will, doing good.” The taller one, Fish as Will had called him, grumbles, his deep voice resonating in your mind. He turns to you, holding a hand out in greeting, “I’m Frankie, nice to meet you.”

You blush, hoping the night hides it from the attractive man in front of you, grasping his hand in yours. It’s huge in comparison, warm and calloused. You introduce yourself to him before turning and doing the same to his friend.

“Ah, the birthday girl!” He grins at you, “Very nice to meet you. I’m Santi, we were in Delta Force with Will.”

“Oh cool!” you smile at the two of them, holding out the joint in a silent offer that they both take you up on, “Will’s talked about you guys a lot, nice to meet you. What brings you to town?”

The four of you get to talking, Santi explaining that he and Frankie had needed a change of scenery after leaving the army, and Will had talked so highly of the town they now all lived in. Frankie chimed in with some details here and there, but otherwise didn’t talk as much as his counterpart. Despite this, you feel your eyes drifting to him more, catching his own already looking at you. You learn that Santi had joined Will in his recent purchase of a local gym, down the street from the coffee shop you worked at.

“Little Mike’s, seriously?” you laugh, the name always bringing you amusement, “I love that place! Benny and I work out there all the time. Please tell me you’re not changing the name.”

“Of course not!” Santi assures you. “I don’t even know who Mike is, though.

“No one does, that’s what makes it so amazing. It’s a mystery.” you joke, and you internally cheer when it gets Frankie to laugh a little. You turn your attention to him.

“What about you, Frankie?” you ask him, trying to learn more about the quiet man. He clears his throat slightly before speaking, the joint held delicately in his fingers.

“I’m actually working as a mechanic, at the shop on Central?” he maintains eye contact the entire time, making you feel like it is just the two of you for a brief moment.

“You two will definitely be seeing each other a lot, then,” Will laughs, and you yet again shove your shoulder against his, “Frankie’s a coffee addict, and you can’t keep a car running to save your life.”

He wasn’t wrong, and you can’t help but laugh along with him. And when Benny stumbles up to the group, you and Will are still giggling uncontrollably, made worse by Benny almost wiping out.

“Shut up, assholes,” he grumbles at you, straightening out before greeting everyone. “Boys, good to see you, welcome to the birthday bash!”

He grabs you by the arm, pulling you into his side and pressing a kiss to your head. You scrunch your face in mock disgust and roll your eyes, used in full at this point to Benny and his overly affectionate nature.

“You ready for cake, birthday girl?” He asks, spinning you around and catching you when the spin has a little too much force behind it.

“Absolutely birthday boy, lead the way.”

The two of you stumble in towards the house, and along the way Benny starts to yell: “Time for cake!”. People cheer, following into the back door while you grab the cake from the fridge. As per usual, you had one cake, specially decorated for you and Benny, and several other sheets of cupcakes for everyone else to share. Benny sticks some candles in the top of the cake, 24 for you and 26 for him, and leans in to light them. At once, everyone starts singing happy birthday. When you look up, you can’t help but latch your eyes onto Frankie, who you hadn’t noticed was right in front of you.

“Happy birthday to you!” they all finish, a loud cheer filling the living room. And, as tradition dictated, you and Benny each grabbed a handful of cake, shoving it in each other's faces. You’re laughing uncontrollably, and eventually everyone starts filing back out to the pool after grabbing their sweet treats. You turn to the kitchen, ready to wipe the frosting off your face, and run straight into a solid chest. Frankie catches you, hands wrapping firmly around your shoulders.

“Shit, sorry,” he slurs ever so slightly, and you realize he’s just as faded as you are right now, “Happy birthday. Didn’t say that earlier.”

“Thanks,” you blush, noticing his hands are still on your shoulders. He seems to notice at the same time, pulling them back to rest at his sides. His dark eyes remain fixed on you, a heavy gaze that leaves your head spinning.

“I, uh, I’m stoned,” he grins at you and you can’t help but return the smile, the two of you unconsciously making your way through the house, away from the crowd. You find yourselves in the living room, where a few people, including Will and Santi, sat scattered around. You half expected that you would go and join the two of them, but instead Frankie steers you towards the love seat, sinking down into it with a groan.

“This is the best couch I’ve ever sat on,” He looks up at you, an amused glint in his hazy eyes. Something in that look fuels your confidence enough that you sit down next to him, the furniture not allowing quite enough room for you both without being pressed together. If your head was less fuzzy, from the weed and the festivities and the very cute man sitting next to you, you probably would not have had the courage to lean into him as you begin conversing.

You quickly find that you and Frankie get along well. You share stories of your childhoods, discuss favorite foods, movies, any topic that pops into either of your heads. The rest of the party seems to fade away as you chat and chat, occasionally parting when someone approaches to say goodbye to you and Benny as the night grows to a close. Before long, there are 5 bodies left in the room; Will, sprawled back in the arm chair; Santi and Benny, playing a game of cribbage on the floor; you and Frankie on the love seat, him sprawled out and slouched back, you with your knees to your chest and feet tucked under his thigh.

“Earth to Frankie!” Santi calls from across the room, startling the two of you out of your enthralling conversation on coffee. “I asked if you wanted to play?”

Frankie blushes slightly, something that does not go unnoticed by you. You lock eyes with Benny, who has a sly grin plastered on his face. Will’s expression is much the same. You start to wonder how long they had been trying to get Frankie’s attention while you were talking.

“What are you two even talking about?” Benny teases, as if he can read your mind. You narrow your eyes at him without responding. Instead, you stand up and stretch, yawning as well.

“I don’t know about you boys, but it’s past my bedtime.” you change the subject, having realized it’s nearing 1 in the morning and you’re opening crew at the shop in 5 hours. You bid goodnight to them all, with the promise to see them soon, and head up to your room. Getting ready for bed in record time, you’re soon nestled under the covers, attempting to fall asleep. But something is stopping you from fully relaxing. After several minutes of tossing and turning, you finally drift off.

———————————————————————————

It feels like you’ve been asleep for maybe half an hour when your first alarm goes off. As usual, you snooze without thinking. Not long after, your “I really have to leave now” alarm is going off. You groan, exhausted and just the slightest bit hungover, giving yourself a second to be miserable before pushing back the covers to start your day.

It doesn’t take you long to get ready, and soon you’re off for the day. The 8 minute drive to work gives you just enough time to think about last night, and by the time you arrive your mind can barely focus on your opening tasks. All you can focus on is the man you met last night, Frankie. The two of you had clicked so effortlessly, an instant connection that you hadn’t felt with anyone in the past. And although he seemed a handful of years older than you, that didn’t stop the budding romantic feelings from taking root in your chest. Finally, you have the shop set up to your liking, a song playing softly in the background and tables organized to optimize space.

The shop promises to be open at 7, and although you don’t always make that it looks like today will be better than most. At 6:58 you’re unlocking the door and propping it open, letting the early morning sunlight shine across the hardwood floor. And soon, you’re able to lose yourself in the day. Alia, you’re cashier and partner in crime for the day, bustles in a few minutes late with an apologetic kiss to your cheek. Soon after, the pre-work rush begins and you don’t have a moment to think of last night as you work to make latte after latte. By the time the rush has passed you’re sweating and need to take a break.

“Alia, I’m taking a fifteen, just holler if someone comes in, will ya?”

She confirms with you, and you gather your bag from behind the register and head to the very back corner of the store. You love it back here, sitting in the corner of two benches, with enough table space to lay out your supplies. Your favorite part of the day, any day, is when you get to hide back here and write to your heart's content. It’s usually only as long as the lull between the breakfast and lunch rush, but you still try to lose yourself. It’s so far a success, until you feel a shadow slip over the table, blurring the words you had just been scribbling. You glance up, and you can’t quite believe your eyes.

Frankie is towering over you, a sly grin on his face as you startle slightly.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, and when you nod your head at him he slides into the chair across from you, smiling all the while. You can’t help the tug of your lips as you smile back. Frankie gestures towards your notebook.

“Do you write?” he questions, and you feel a slight flush rising on your cheeks.

“Yea, any chance I get.” You reply, and without thinking you’re sharing your latest story with him. You’re soon lost in discussion, only interrupted by Alia. She blinks for a second, looking between the two of you, before she turns to you with an apologetic smile.

“I’m so sorry, can you come and make a few drinks. They’re a little outside of my wheelhouse.”

“Oh of course, I’ll be right back,” you say to Frankie and rushes to the counter. Never in your life have you made a London fog and mocha faster, but after a few minutes you’re able to return to your spot. To your surprise and genuine enjoyment, Frankie is still there. He grins as you set a cup of black coffee in front of him.

“I didn’t know how you liked it,” you say, almost shy.

“Sure you did,” he laughs, holding the cup up towards you in a mock toast. “Black as can be, that’s how it’s meant to be.”

“Ok fair, black coffee is good, but sometimes the fru-fru stuff is the best.”

And so launches a fierce debate between you, while the air of levitivity remains. You get up every once in a while to make a drink, but mostly remain at the table, chatting with your new friend. Finally, Frankie looks at his watch and startles.

“Shit, lost track of time, my shift started 10 minutes ago!” You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling honored that he was late for work because he had been so engaged with you. You said your goodbyes as he rushed out of the shop, trying to sneakily leave a 20 in the tip jar. You waved for a beat too long, realizing it with a flutter in your stomach. A nervous excitement has filled you during your time together, and you aren’t quite sure what to make of it.

“So, you gonna tell me who that handsome man was?” Alia startles you as she slides up to your side. “Are you seeing him?”

“No! I just met him last night, he’s a friend of Will’s,” you explain to her, without giving away too much. Being the perceptive girl she is, you’re sure she’ll see through to the truth of how you’re feeling. However, she must be feeling merciful, as she doesn’t push you, leaving you to think it through yourself. It, of course being, your newfound feelings for Frankie.

——————————————————————-

It’s been a few days since you last saw Frankie. Picking up some extra shifts had left you with little free time, and the spare minutes you did have were reserved for working on your writing. A fresh idea had popped into your head midway through your shift Monday, and by Friday you had a very, very rough draft. You were sitting on the loveseat in comfy clothes, hair braided on each side and your ridiculously large “artsy glasses” (as Benny had dubbed them) perched atop your nose. You’re so focused on the keyboard at your fingers that you barely notice the knock at the door.

“I got it!” Benny bellows, rushing towards the door like a golden retriever. He yanks it open to reveal Santi, Will and Frankie standing on the steps. You still aren’t wholly paying attention, not until you hear Frankie’s deep chuckle coming from the doorway of the living room. Your head shoots up and you meet his eyes. You can’t help the grin on your face.

“Hi.” You say in simple greeting, quickly saving the document you had been working on and shoving your computer under the coffee table.

“Hey there,” Frankie responds, settling into the seat next to you. It isn’t until that moment that you realize the amount of skin shown off by your comfy outfit. He’s wearing shorts, and your bare legs press together on the tight couch. It sends a rush down your spine, and you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as the rest of the boys file in, a riot of laughter at some unheard joke.

“Sorry bud, hope you don’t mind,” Benny says to you as they all settle into their various spots. “We were gonna watch the fight at Will’s but his power went out.”

“No worries Ben, I’ll leave you guys to it.” You move to stand, but are surprised when a hand wraps around your wrist. You glance down at Frankie, who is now leveling you with some serious puppy dog eyes.

“Stay with us, we’re ordering food.” You almost think you can see a blush on his cheeks, and you acquiesce.

“Ok, if you insist,” you joke, “Just let me go get changed out of my pajamas for the first time today.”

You rush upstairs, throwing on some less revealing yet still comfortable clothes, before stopping in the mirror. You can’t help but check, see if you’re looking as cute as you want. Before you can second guess, you rush back downstairs as Benny starts hollering your name.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you yell back. You trounce back into the living room, hoping that you’re not imagining the glance Frankie chances at the sliver of skin between your sweatpants and t-shirt.

“Pepperoni and pineapple, coke to drink?” Benny confirms with you, as if you hadn’t had the same order for the past 20 years. You nod at him before settling back in next to Frankie. It takes a while for the food to get to the house, all the while you are trying to ignore every point your bodies come in contact with one another. It’s a futile effort, especially when he seems to be inching closer every few minutes. Once the food is delivered, and everyone else was distracted by that, Frankie finally has a moment alone with you.

“So, how’s your week been?” he asks you, arm slung across the back of the cushions, just barely dragging against your shoulder. You can’t help but lean into the touch.

“Pretty good, you?” you ask back.

“Pretty good, worked some extra shifts, had some amazing coffee,” he winks at you when he says that point, the blush that seemed ever present around him spreading across your cheeks, “How’s the writing going?”

Your face involuntarily lights up, always excited to share some of your ideas with someone with a bit more reading tendencies than Benny. Before you can start word-vomiting about your current piece, Santi appears out of thin air, motioning the two of you to the kitchen.

“Ben’s bulking, might want to get in there before it’s all gone.”

You both thank him and rush into the kitchen, grabbing a sufficient amount of food. You grin when Frankie bumps his hip against yours, not quite sure if it was on purpose or not. Whichever it was, it made you smile and think maybe it wasn’t just you with the ever growing feelings. You try not to dwell on it too much, instead following Frankie back to the living room and falling back into what you are quickly finding to be your assigned seat.

This time you’re sitting cross legged, facing him on the love seat while he leans back, his legs spread ever so slightly to hold the plate of pizza on his lap. You’re all chatting, Benny and Will trying to start a fight with Santi over the best fighter in the ring tonight. You honestly couldn’t care less, and it seems Frankie is the same. Soon, the talking turns to cheering at the TV once the fight starts. You almost jump when Frankie leans in close, whispering in your ear.

“I had fun the other night,” he starts, gesturing with his head towards the back yard. “I brought my own stash, wanna share with me?”

You beam at him, and without explaining to the others, the two of you sneak out the sliding glass door to the back yard. With some fiddling you have the string lights illuminated, bathing the deck in a soft glow while Frankie preps a bowl for the two of you. He’s sitting on the outdoor couch, and you hesitate for a second, debating between sitting next to him or across on the bench. Before you can make a decision Frankie pats the seat next to him with one hand, not even looking up from what he’s doing.

“I figured I owed you for letting me smoke all of your weed the other day.” You laugh slightly and settle in next to him, using the slight bite in the air to stick close to his side.

“I mean, I wasn’t gonna ask, but thank you.”

He grins at you, offering the bowl to you for the first puff. You take it from his hand, your fingers brushing together. Without thinking you lean towards him and allow him to light it for you, his hands cupping the lighter to shield the flame. It causes you to be in very close proximity, and the flickering light illuminates his face in a way that you find irresistible. You breathe in deeply, relishing in the sweet burn before releasing the smoke in a curl around your heads. You pass the bowl back and forth, lighting for each other as an excuse to stay close.

“Fuck, I don’t know if I can do anymore,” Frankie coughs, his eyes hooded. You giggle, agreeing with him. And yet, neither of you can move, remaining on the couch even as the air gets chillier and chillier. Eventually, you can’t help the shiver that runs through you. You go to suggest moving inside, but before you can the other boys are trampling out the back door.

“See I told you!” Benny is shouting at the other two, “I told you, KO’d in the third round!”

Santi wordlessly holds his hand out for Frankie’s pipe, lighting it and taking a deep drag. Frankie is suddenly lost in the conversation with the boys, but before you can get up to find something warm, he’s shrugging his flannel off and handing it to you, smiling warmly.

“Oh, uh, thank you,” you’re suddenly nervous around him again as you pull his shirt around your shoulders and slip your arms down the sleeves. The cuffs go long past your hands and the spicy smell of him fills your weed-addled brain. You almost feel lightheaded, and take a moment to curl up, leaning your head against the back of the couch. This movement just happens to bring you closer to Frankie, something that you don’t think is unnoticed by him.

“You good?” he asks you, noticing your sudden quiet. You grin lazily at him, nodding your head and curling up tighter trying to get comfortable. He smiles and throws his arm around you. Benny and Santi are fake boxing, with Benny being the obvious winner, so you don’t have to worry about them commenting on your position. Will is not so easily distracted, and before you can move he’s grinning at you, your cheeks burning hot. You mouth some choice words at him, along the lines of “don’t you say anything” and he shakes his head, turning away. Even with the lasting edge of anxiety you are feeling, you can’t bring yourself to move away from the man next to you. He’s just so ...warm, comfy, and cute.

The last word startles you a bit, even just coming from your thoughts. You hadn’t really put much thought to it, the idea of being more than friends with this man you just recently met. Now, sitting here pressed against his side, his flannel wrapped around you and overwhelming your senses, it’s all you can think about.

————————————————————————-

It isn’t long until the boys start tapping out, one at a time excusing themselves to bed until it’s just you and Frankie left. You try not to think too much of it, but then he turns towards you, a sly smile on his face.

“Having a good time?” you ask him, trying to break the tension that is slowly building between the two of you.

“Oh yea, lots of fun,” he’s teasing, and you both know it. But some little part of you wants, needs the validation that what you think is happening really is.

“Frankie,” you start, shifting ever so slightly closer to his firm, warm body, “I think I want to kiss you. Would that be ok?”

His smile blossoms, a warm, genuine thing that lights up your insides. He leans closer, bumping your noses together before fitting his lips to yours. You both make a noise, your soft moan covered by his deep one, and you reach your fingers up to tangle in his short hair. His hand grasps your waist, his other cradling your cheek in a tender touch that has your mind reeling. You sit there for a while, breathing each other in before parting. You’re just ever so slightly out of breath when you peel your eyes open to meet his gaze.

“Do you wanna go out tomorrow?” he asks you, his eyes heavy with the need for sleep but unable to pull himself away from you. “Just the two of us, a date?”

“Absolutely, I want to do that, yes,” you stumble on the words in their haste to escape you. He pulls your mouth back to his, another soft kiss that leaves you wanting more, but he pulls back.

“If I’m gonna make it home alive I gotta leave soon, sweetheart,” he grumbles, almost as if he’s mad at himself, “I’m falling asleep despite the amazing company.”

You roll your eyes at him and stand up, reaching down to pull him up with you. He stumbles a little with the force of your pull and finds your cheeks with his hands, pressing one more searing kiss to your lips.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow, 6 o’clock, sound good?” he whispers against your lips. You nod, biting at your cheek to keep from grinning like a lunatic. You walk him to the front door, trying to keep from alerting Benny how late Frankie had stayed. With a few more kisses, he’s finally to his truck in the driveway, turning around to wave goodbye. You return it with a soft smile, watching as he backs out before heading back into the house.

You take your time getting ready for bed, doing every step of your routine thoroughly to savor the feelings fluttering in your chest. Eventually, you can barely keep your eyes open. The second your head hits the pillow, you’re out like a light.

#frankie morales x reader #frankie #frankie morales #pedro pascal #frankie morales x you #writing #my writing #pedro pascal fan fiction #frankie morales fanfiction

79 notes · View notes

greta-van-chaos · 4 months

Text

I Will Possess Your Heart // Part 4

Oliver Reed x Reader

Part 3 < > Part 5 (wip)

Warnings | Explicit sexual content, oral (m recieving), cursing

Word Count | 3.6k

Authors Note | I take a lot of breaks, I think you guys have caught onto that by now. I don't want to sit here and be like i'm really busy guys, sorry but truly i'm just so busy and my heart hasn't been in writing at all. I want that to change but I can't make any promises. For now, as a peace offering, here is the next part to I Will Possess Your Heart and hopefully the fifth and final part will be releasing very soon after.

The morning slides into the afternoon and the afternoon slides into the night and before you know it, once again you are beneath the covers of Oliver's bed, ear pressed to his chest as you listen to the slow, content beating of his heart. Although he denied his tiredness he has fallen into an easy sleep with you beside him and though anxiety pools in your stomach you refuse to deprive him of the sleep he seems to need so desperately.

You know you should leave, you can't stop thinking about it. Who in their right mind seeks a stranger out in the dead of night due to car troubles and then let's him entertain them for a weekend with sex and booze? It wasn't a normal situation and the guilt was truly getting to you.

For now, you decided, you'd sleep. At this point in the evening there wasn't much for you to do in terms of relieving Oliver of your presence and you weren't even sure he'd want you to go when the time came. So, sleep. It was a problem for future you to sort out.

And so, morning came, much faster than you'd have preferred but seeing Oliver still sound asleep, face beautifully calm in the morning light you knew it was time to go.

Reasonably, there is no way, no way at all that you have fallen so deeply for a stranger. You've known him for two days and already you felt an attachment that makes you shiver when you begin to even think of severing it.

Finally, you rise, peeling yourself carefully away from the bed and assuring that Oliver says sound asleep. Before leaving the room though, you move to stand on his side of the bed so you can brush a kiss to his hairline. You feel bad about what you're going to do but you know that if he woke and asked you to stay again, you may not be able to bring yourself to say no.

Once down the stairs, stepping as carefully as you can so as not to make much noise, you begin searching for your phone. You expect not to find it without a fight but there it is, perched on top of your now cleaned and dried clothes that lay folded on Oliver's desk in the living room. Miraculously it still has a charge to it and in an even greater leap of luck you now have cell reception.

Without thinking to hard on the money you're able to set up a tow truck and a ride back into the city where you reside, all things able to be neatly wrapped up before dinner time this evening.

You'd really feel unforgivable if you didn't leave something for Oliver, some sign of life, maybe an apology letter. After a small bit of deliberation you decide to scrawl your number on the legal pad you find at his desk and a short note. You don't feel the need to say much as you really aren't certain of your feelings yet but still, you make sure it's something substantial enough not to leave him with hard feelings.

With that, you gather your belongings, opting to keep the clothes he's lent you and call a car. Not a single sound alerts you that Oliver has stirred awake and for that you are grateful. You'd rather be out and gone without a word, like some specter or ghost, unseen.

The car pulls up within a timeframe you're certain is impossible considering how far out and into the woods you are. Once situated you take one more look at the manor house before your driver pulls away. You swear that in one of the windows on the top floor you can feel Oliver's form, standing, stoic. It takes all of your willpower to turn your cheek and leave without a single whisper of a goodbye.

You're doing what needs to be done. You can't live in a fantasy with a man you barely know. You hope he calls, of course you do but you know it's better for both of you if you're rid of the house now rather than later.

Days went by, days and days and days until the days faded to weeks and now, it's been almost three months since you left Oliver's glamourous home. Almost three months since you scrawled your phone number on a notepad atop his desk. Almost three months without a single call. Almost three months since you were forced into the realization that you won't ever be seeing him again.

Huffing you curl your body sideways, allowing your forehead to rest on the chilly glass of the train car you're sitting in. The world moves by in a blur and as you watch you wish the endless slew of city lights would swallow you whole. Ever since you left his house that night, you'd felt empty which almost made you laugh considering you had nothing to build upon apart from the strange situation you had found yourselves in and incredible sex.

An automated bell dings and your stop is called out by a voice that is equally as artificial. Gathering your bag and pulling your coat on a bit tighter you stand to leave. As you approach the doors, which are very slowly hauling themselves open you're robbed of all breathe.

With a dull thud your purse hits the floor, "Oliver?"

His eyes are tired and dim but when he hears your voice they seem to open wider and brighten. "Y/n?"

None other than Oliver Reed is standing at the very end of the train car, following a short line of people to exit the vehicle. The world stops around you and the overwhelming rush of emotions that grasps you keeps you glued to the spot. Hardly aware of people pushing past you to get off the train you take in Oliver's appearance and your heart aches. He's wearing a vest similar to the one he shrugged off after inviting you into his house on that fateful night and a pair of slacks. His hair is neatly brushed unlike the tangled tresses you were so used to. Even as the sky donned the night like a silky, starlit nightgown he wore a pair of oddly cut sunglasses that somehow looked perfect on him but would make anyone else look ridiculous.

Finally your brain catches up and before you realize you're doing it you rush towards him, belongings forgotten on the floor. You stop right in front of him, mere inches away from touching, your hands folded together at your chest, "I never thought I'd see you again."

He huffs out a breath and reaches for you, placing a hand on your cheek. "Neither did I."

As though you've been forced back into your body and made to see out of your eyes you blink away the haze of excitement just enough to remember that you're supposed to be exiting the train. He makes a noise of affirmation when you turn to get your bag and grab his hand, pulling him off the train and into a tight embrace once you're steady on your feet. Both of your hearts are beating fast and hard, as if to escape their confines and meld together, two halves finally whole. Oliver holds you against him and now that you're back in his arms you never want to leave. The cold outside does it's best to chill your exposed skin but the warmth of the man in front of you helps quell the bite.

When he pulls away you step back, blurting out the one thing you couldn't stop thinking about, "You never called."

"I didn't know what to say but--" He sighs and looks at you, forlorn "--please believe me when I tell you that I wanted to. I think I was just... confused."

"I do, I swear. I just wish that you did. I--" You pull yourself into his chest again, pressing your face into the crook of his neck to bite back your words, not ready to fully realize how deep your feelings run. "God, I missed you."

He smells the same as before, warm, sweet and slightly alcoholic. "I've missed you too, love."

You break away for a moment and just stare into each others eyes, the train leaving the station a blurry background noise to your occupied brain. The entire world around you has dimmed and all you know is Oliver, all you feel is Oliver, all you want is Oliver. Without really thinking you thread your fingers through his hair and pull his lips to yours, smiling at the softness of his mouth moving in sync with your own.

When his hands move to your hips and pull you flush against him you smile against his mouth and he hums. It feels perfect.

All of the questions, the worry, the unanswered want, they're all melting away and making room for this moment. You never thought you'd be reunited and now that you are it's sweeter than you could have ever imagined.

"Let me buy you dinner," He mumbles, words muffled against your lips.

"Please."

You both walk in silence, the streetlights illuminating the rain speckled road. Apparently Oliver is in town for a movie audition and plans to be around for a few days, the thought that you'll have him nearby for the weekend puts an immovable smile on your lips.

Hand in hand you make your way to a small pub and as soon as you enter you're warmed from the crown of your head to your toes. The lighting is dim and the bar is crowded with people but somehow you're able to find a little booth tucked away in the back. Everything is falling into place as if this moment is destiny. You truly believe that to be so.

Once you've ordered drinks, Oliver places his chin in his hand and gazes upon you with nothing but pure bliss and adoration in his eyes. "It's so fucking good to see you, love. I never thought I'd be able to again."

You look up at him through your lashes and smile bashfully, "I never thought I would either." You still can't shake the hurt of knowing that he was fully capable of contacting you the whole time but chose not to. Clearing your throat you lock eyes with him and press again, "I still don't really understand why you didn't call."

He sighs and looks to the side, avoiding the almost accusatory expression on your face. "I just... I was upset and confused and I really thought that your number may have just been a courtesy. I didn't know if you actually felt the same." The pained look on his face makes you reach out for his hands. You take them in your own and rub circles into the backs of them with your thumbs. His instinct at first is to pull away but quickly he melts into it and lets out a deep breath through his nose.

"I'm sorry."

Completely shattering in the moment the waiter walks over and places your drinks down. Oliver nods his head at the boy and then looks back to you. "So, do you come here often?"

A dumb grin pulls on your lips and you laugh. "I do, in fact. I live just down the street." You cock an eyebrow at him "What brings Oliver Reed to this neck of the woods?"

He looks surprised for a moment before you can see on his face that he realizes he hasn't explained his presence in your city. "I've got brunch with a director tomorrow, I was coming in tonight to stay and get my bearings before we met."

"Funny coincidence that you end up so close to me," you laugh, truly just so happy to be in his presence.

"You've got that right, love. What a surprise to see you on the same train as me, I thought I was hallucinating until you came right up and I could touch you."

"Well, I'm real and I'm right here and I am just as surprised as you."

You both sit in silence for a moment, just staring, taking each other in. What a situation you have found yourselves in, to being on the same train and now to knowing that Oliver will be staying a night in the place you've lived your whole life.

"What do you say we head back to mine after dinner?" You ask without thinking "You could even stay with me for the night if you want. Though I'm sure if you've booked a hotel you'd better stay there..." You trail off, slowly getting quieter and mumbling throughout the sentence but he shakes his head.

"How could I ever say no to you, darling. Let me worry about the hotel and I'll let you worry about leading the way." Letting go of one of your hands that you didn't realize he'd been holding he reaches to sip his drink. Taking the opportunity you run the toe of your shoe up his leg, you hope the gesture is sexy and not awkward. Guessing by the way his eyes darken and how he sets down his glass, you had the effect you were going for. Something about him makes you so much more playful and daring than usual. "I think I might take you up on that sooner than I had anticipated."

"Patience, Oliver, patience." You send him a flirty wink and he just smirks, a million plans of what he could do to you seemingly flashing behind his eyes.

"I'll show you fucking patience doll, just you wait." The look in his eyes has your pressing your thighs together.

You spend the rest of the night drinking and laughing and shamelessly flirting. It feels so natural and now that you've fallen into a rhythm with him you don't want it to stop.

You cash out and leave quicker than you'd anticipated, dragging him down the street. You truly do only live a couple blocks away and in this situation that is more than perfect. You're both itching to get inside.

The whole walk you're both giggling like teenagers and Oliver can't keep his hands off of you, the entire time his arm is firmly planted around your waist, effectively keeping you pressed into his side.

"This is my building, right here" You say, fishing out your keys as you walk up the steps and approach the door. Once unlocked you lead Oliver by the hand to the elevator.

Almost immediately the doors open and as soon as you step in Oliver is on you, pinning you to the wall and kissing your neck. He presses his leg between yours and grips your chin so he can give himself all the room he needs to suck and lick and kiss at your throat. You giggle and pull him off of you just enough to haphazardly throw your hand to the panel of buttons on the wall and hit your floor, all the while his hands are trailing down your top until he can slip them under your shirt and cup your breasts.

"So impatient" You breathe, the words holding the same cadence as a soft moan. Despite your words you thread your hands into his hair to pull him back and grind down on his thigh.

"Seems like you're the impatient one, you and your needy little pussy" He practically growls.

You can feel your cheeks get hot and when he looks down at you you almost melt. Every time your eyes meet it feels like an electric shock.

"I think you like it." You whisper, guiding his mouth to yours by a soft hand under his chin. He releases a content sigh when your lips meet, almost melting completely at having you this close again.

"Oh yeah? and what makes you think that?" His voices is taunting and his breath is warm against you cheek as he breaks the kiss to speak.

Instead of using words you slide the hand that isn't holding his face between your bodies, palming him through his pants. Usually it's him that does the smirking but right now you have the most smug look on your face and he does nothing to challenge it and regain control. A whimper-like sound shakes out of him and he leans into your touch, starting to press his hips harder into your hand as you rub your hand against him faster.

The elevator doors opening makes you both freeze, your bodies eerily still. He rests his forehead against yours and sighs. You're reluctant to break apart but force yourself to in favor of being able to indulge in the privacy of your apartment.

Once again, Oliver's hands refuse to leave your body and when you get to your door he presses himself against your ass, letting you know just how hard he is... as if you weren't already aware. "When that door opens... I'm going to ruin you" He murmurs into your hair.

"Oh I'm counting on it" You throw back, pushing the door open and stepping inside. Instantly following through on his threat he slams the door closed and spins you around, starting to unbutton your blouse. You might have assumed that he'd already been in your apartment by the way he walks you back to the couch without hesitation but you have a feeling that if there was no couch to run into he would've kept walking you back until you ran into something else. He just got lucky, apparently.

When the backs of your knees hit the arm you're almost forced to sit down which brings you level to his belt. You slide back so you can kneel on the couch and then pull him closer by said belt. He abandons any attempt at removing your shirt when he sees you unbuckle it and claw his pants down. You've waited for too long for this, you're not gonna waste any time with pleasantries.

As soon as he is no longer confined to the sleek black boxers beneath his slacks you put your mouth on him. First by flattening your tongue and dragging it along the underside of his cock, then by taking him fully into your mouth. He throws his hips forward at the feeling and hits the back of your throat. You recover quickly and hum around him, bringing one hand up to rest on his stomach.

"My god, you look so fucking hot like this" He mumbles, starting to guide your movements with the hands he's anchored in your hair.

Even after the short amount of time you spent with him you're relishing in everything that is Oliver. You missed it so... the feel of him, the weight of him on your tongue, his moans and breaths and the way his fingers feel dancing over your cheekbones to coax himself further down your throat. He's got you in a trance and you wouldn't have it any other way.

You tenderly rub your thumb over his hipbone, a far more gentle and loving action compared to the way you're lavishing him with your mouth. His hips stutter and you can assume he's already close by how desperate his thrusts have become. At this point he's controlling everything, holding your head in place and guiding himself in and out of your mouth at whatever speed he pleases. You don't mind one bit.

He lets up briefly, pulling away from you and stroking his hand over himself. Spit has managed to smear all over your lips and cheeks and you can feel that your makeup has fallen into a state of disarray. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and slide your eyes up his body "I've thought about this every single night since I left. I just can't get you off my mind."

That does something for him, maybe the geuninity in the admission or the soft look on your face, you'll never know but he pulls you up by your arms and kisses you deeply. His hands are back in your hair but this time, the way he's holding you feels so different, almost loving, like you'll break if he isn't gentle.

After a beat he pulls back and searches your face. The entire mood has shifted and the air has grown thick with unspoken words. You'd never guess what he says and when it passes his lips you feel so incredibly full of affection, "You're the only thing I've been able to think about. I spent so many nights just staring at that note. I really and truly am so sorry I kept you waiting."

"We're here now," You whisper and then you pause, thinking. "Do you think you would have called if we didn't run into each other today?"

Your arms are around his neck and you're still close enough that if you leaned forward your lips would touch. "I honestly... I don't know. I want to say yes but to be truthful, love, I was fucking terrified."

"Don't be... there's nothing to be afraid of." And that's that, any other words that could've slipped into the sliver of space between your mouths dies in the air as you pull him back in.

Slowly but surely you slide a hand behind you and lower yourself back onto the couch, bringing him with you. You're vaguely aware of him kicking off his shoes as he climbs on top of you, eventually making himself comfortable as your legs fall into place around his hips.

One more part left and then these lovebirds will have a complete story. Give me all your thoughts!!! Do we want part 5 and soon?

If you want to be tagged in upcoming posts you can join my taglist!

Taglist | @sarakaygvf @jakeyboiiiiiii @celestialfauna @gretavanfleas @gretavanlace @koifishkoifish @ageofnyahh @gvfrry @doodle417 @fleetsonfire @joshkiszkas @brokenbellz @thefleetofdreams @angelbabyivy @weightofdreams-gvf @eearevee @dakotadovato @sam-gvf-9 7 @letswalktogether @alisonwonderland29 @llightmyllovee @hayley1623 @erin-rose-hackl @jakekiszkalovebot @jakeslovehandles @theweightofjake @janelikemaryyy @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @hippiestardust @myownparadise96

@gretavanflowerpower @groggyvanfleet @gvfslayallday @kayleea122 @kdarling1 @heatmyfleet @ascendingtothestarsasone @tripthelightjaketastic @prophetoft @keighoe @seventieswhore @highwayhunch @weightofdreamz @vader-kai @irrevocably24 @sammyslappers @mintysammykiszka @angelqueen99 @sammiejane22 @gretasmokerising @troublegetssoloud71 @jordiesworld @samkiszkalover @alexxavicry @jordierama

#greta van fleet #gvf #jake kiszka #danny wagner #sam kiszka #josh kiszka #greta van fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #jake kiszka imagine #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka series #jake kiszka fanfic #oliver reed #oliver reed smut #oliver reed x reader #i will possess your heart

48 notes · View notes

sunnytarg · 1 year

Note

part 2 to that aemond ask pleeek? 🙏

I wasn’t planning on doing a part 2 but so many people were asking for one. (This is so long omg)

If you guys want a part 3 just let me know. I think it could end with this but I could also do another part.

Pt. 1 || Pt. 3

Aemond hadn’t meant to fall asleep in his dear niece’s chambers but after taking her several times throughout the night, he was exhausted.

After the second time, where he rolled her over and fucked her roughly from behind, she had stopped protesting. She had realized that he wasn’t going to listen to her pleas. So when he fell asleep on her bed she didn’t say anything. She choose to just pull her nightgown back on and try and sleep. She hadn’t expected her mother to come into her room the next morning without knocking.

She had not looked at Aemond as he had left. She also couldn’t bring herself to look at her mother as her servants drew her her bath for the day. Eventually her mother asked her if Aemond had done anything to her last night. She contemplated on whether or not she should say anything. If her mother knew what Aemond had done, she’d probably burn down the castle and everybody in it so she decided it was best to deny that Aemond had even touched her. Choosing instead to tell her mother that Aemond had drunk to much at their meal and had stumbled into her room and promptly passed out.

Her mother didn’t look as if she believed her daughter but decided not to question her further. When the girl slipped off her nightgown and sunk into her warm bath she couldn’t help but trace over the bruises that had formed from the previous night. When she found a new bruise she remembered the words he said to her. “Only fitting for a bastard to give birth to one herself.”

Every day that passed by she would try her best to ignore her one-eyed uncle. He hadn’t come to her chambers again and she avoided the places she knew he often frequented. She didn’t want to be caught in a room with him alone again, afraid he might corner her and take her again.

She had only seen him in passing and when she caught his eye on accident he would send one of his smirks her way. It always made her frown. It didn’t seem as though her family noticed a change in her behavior. She thought that maybe her mother may have noticed something if her side eyes were anything to go by.

She had noticed the first time her blood didn’t come. She told no one about it, hoping that it may just be a fluke but by the second time she should’ve bleed one of the servants had told her mother. She was brought to a midwife instead of a maester because her mother was afraid a maester might tell the Queen.

When the midwife informed her that she was with child she felt her throat tighten up, afraid that her mother might ask her when she bedded a man or who it was but she didn’t. In fact, she only walked her back to her chambers without speaking a word to her and left once she was safely inside. From inside she could hear her mother instructing the guards to not let her out of the her chambers until she came back.

She settled into bed and released a sigh. Her mother was probably going to try and find her a man to marry soon who hopefully wouldn’t ask question and would still be good for the family. Truthfully, as long as they took her away from King’s Landing she didn’t care who she was married to.

Several hours passed before her mother came back. She informed her daughter that she tried to bring up several options for an engagement for her but just as they settled on one her half-brother, Aemond had come in and declared that he would marry his niece. Her mother paused and looked away from her daughter before she continued. “I was going to reject his proposal but Alicent was there, as well as her father. When Aemond made it clear that he wouldn’t let it go they agreed that the best offer you’d get would be the prince.”

She only nodded mutely. A million questions whirled through her head. Mainly about Aemond. Why would he insist on marrying her when he was the one that insisted that she birth his bastard? If they married the child wouldn’t be a bastard.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she almost missed when her mother told her that the wedding would take place at the end of the week. She stared blankly after her mother as she left. Could she truly marry Aemond? They had gotten along when they were younger and he was the father of her unborn child but he could also be so very cruel, as he showed her two months ago.

The week leading up to the wedding she remained in her chambers. She didn’t want to see anyone, afraid that they might look at her and know why she was being married off so quickly.

She thought that maybe she’d see Aemond before they were supposed to be married but he never appeared. She wanted to know why he insisted on marrying her. She wanted to know why he did what he did because she didn’t truly believe it was solely about his eye.

When the day of the wedding finally came, she felt as though she was sleep walking through the entire day. She couldn’t pay attention when her mother helped her dress or when her brother, Jace, walked her down the aisle to Aemond.

When she stood side by side with Aemond, she finally came back to herself. She recited the vows she was told to and listened as Aemond did the same. She hazard a glance at him and saw him already staring at her intensely. His gaze wasn’t harsh or mean and she could have sword that his face softened when she finally looked him in the eye.

A feast was held for after the ceremony. She barely touched the roasted pig before her. Her nose and stomach already becoming sensitive to the meat. She didn’t say a word to her new husband the entire time and when he went to grab a hold of her hand she would pull it away. After a while he had asked her if she wanted to join him in the dancing to which she told him, pointedly, that she’d rather not because she felt a little nauseous. “It must be the food,” she looked at him directly as she said it. They both knew it was not the food that made her nauseous but he didn’t push the topic and only nodded.

Nothing was said between the newly wedded couple as it was time for them to make their way to their new chambers and consummate their marriage. Aemond had insisted that their wasn’t to be a bedding ceremony so when they made their way out of the hall, the feast and dancing was still going on.

When they arrived in their newly shared chambers she began working on taking her dress off, not looking at Aemond, who stood a distance away from her, not saying anything.

She wasn’t all that happy about the fact that they needed to consummate their marriage. Considering that they technically already had. She tried not to let Aemond’s piercing gaze bother her as she went to strip off her under clothes.

“Stop,” Aemond said, quietly from behind her. She dropped her hands and looked over at him with furrowed eyebrows. He only walked passed her and took the dagger from his hip and sliced his palm, holding it over the sheets of their bed. When he smeared enough on to satisfy everyone he finally looked at his niece. She could have sworn she saw a look of regret and perhaps guilt in his eyes before he said, “I will not bed you tonight. Nor any night until you tell me you want me to.”

She could only nod as he went to the chair beside the fire and sat down on it. She crawled into their bed, avoiding the bloodied spot, and laid down. She had no idea what had came over Aemond. He obviously had no idea taking what he believed should be his. It was the whole reason they were married now. So why was he acting so hesitantly around her now that she was officially his wife?

She glanced over at him as he stared into the fire. She could ask him but she still didn’t have it in her to talk to him yet. So instead she closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep.

#house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x reader

725 notes · View notes

squishy-lombax · 10 months

Text

Umbrella (Fowlham fanfic)

Believe it or not, I've never written a fan fiction before! I hope you enjoy my first attempt! I decided to go with a comfort fandom of mine, RC9GN with a pairing I think is cute and sadly did not have much scene-time; FowlHam. If you're here from my Secret Trio comic book, this fic takes place before the events of my comic. Side note: I head-canon Randy with ADHD and Theresa with Autism. Reminiscent of the relationship that my partner and I have in real life. So hopefully I represented the disorders well.

It was an over-cast day when McFist's new McSneak shoes went on sale. The forecast said it would rain, so all those in line held umbrellas. No one was willing to miss the release of these new shoes just because of a little rain. Randy Cunningham was one of those lucky people waiting in line. Well, if you call standing in line for hours since the butt crack of dawn with the threat of rain "lucky." His best friend, Howard Weinerman, was there too; although, he came hours later with snacks.

Following the sound of groans and curses, "Th-thank *gasp* honking *gasp* cheese I found you Cunningham," Howard exclaimed as he shoved his way in line next to Randy, "Let me tell you! If I had to fight off one more toddler before finding you, I would have given up!"

"Well maybe I wouldn't be so far in line if you had gotten here on time," Randy greeted his friend, grabbing a bag of chips from his arms.

"Just be thankful I kept you updated. Do you know how hard it is to text when one of your hands looks like this?!' Howard said forcing a McCheeto dust covered hand up to Randy's face.

"Hey! Watch the hoodie, you shoob!" Randy retorted as a mild slapping match ensued.

The violence stopped as quickly as it started when the first drops of rain began to fall. There was a brief commotion as people extended their umbrellas. Randy grabbed his umbrella and found that opening it when one hand was occupied by a bag of chips was difficult. After fumbling for a few seconds he eventually turned to Howard for assistance. Howard obliged but kept a smug smile the whole time. Howard reached his dust covered hand over and pressed the release button. With the power of teamwork, the umbrella opened. Randy rolled his eyes as Howard added "see, it's pretty difficult when you're burdened with the best snacks borrowed money can buy".

"Okay, but did borrowed money," Randy air-quoted, "buy you an umbrella?"

Howard was unable to continue their battle of wits as the rain began to downpour. The umbrella-less Howard ducked under Randy's inconspicuous Ninja-themed umbrella as their playful argument was momentarily forgotten.

Rain has a funny effect on people. It has a magic that can cause a whole crowd of excited people to fall into a silence. Only something so powerful can make Randy and Howard quiet for more than two minutes. Howard licked his fingers of the McCheeto dust before popping open another bag. Randy, his bag of chips forgotten, began to disassociate as he stared out into the steady shower. The puddle forming in a nearby pothole caught his eye first. Then, a splash created by a car as it nearly hit a woman at the bus stop. Until he settled on a soaked Theresa running across the street. "Wait- a soaked Theresa running across the street?" Randy did a double take before his mind could wander to the next moving object. Yup, that was Theresa. She was without an umbrella and carrying what he thought was a grocery bag.

Nudging Howard, "Do you think I should help her?" Randy asked.

"Help who, bro?! You can't just change subjects on me like that, you know this!"

"Oh, sorry, Theresa. I mean- Theresa is across the street and looks like she needs help." Randy explained, pointing to where the girl was now walking after making it successfully to the other side of the road.

"Cunningham, you just stood in line for four hours and you're about to leave because you don't think women can hold bags?!"

"What?! No- that's- can't you see she is soaking wet?" Randy responded, arms flailing in the general direction of said drenched girl.

"Well, luckily she's already wet. Otherwise, that fall would honkin' suck!" Howard stated, desperately trying to stay under the moving umbrella.

"Fall-?" Randy muttered as he turned back to look at Theresa, who was currently on the ground and frantically trying to scoop up the contents of her dropped bag.

Randy wasn't sure if hisNinj-stincts kicked in or what, but he found himself handing Howard's snacks back and hopping over the crowd barricades he spent hours behind that morning. Making it to the busy street, the man-on-a-mission didn't bother to wait for the crosswalk sign. Instead, snapping his umbrella closed, Randy weaved his way through traffic. He began jumping between cars, narrowly avoiding splashes, and finished off with a roll over a hood. Only for him to pop the umbrella back open over Theresa's head.

Theresa was crouched with a can of soup in her hand, staring up, wide-eyed at Randy, who was desperately trying to look cool and not winded. This pose was held for a few seconds too long, as no words passed between the two. The awkwardness snapped Randy back to reality as his thoughts ran rampant: "What the juice did I just do?! Did anyone see that? No one thinks I'm the Ninja, right? Anyone could have done that! Why would they think I'm the Ninja? I just wanted to help a friend! Maybe I should say something to her- have I not said anything to her yet?! Okay, she's standing up now. How long has she been staring at me? What should I say? Hm, I forgot how tall she is-"

"Thank you," Theresa spoke.

"Soup."

"Huh?"

"The soup in your hand- I mean, I'm here to help with the soup- I mean the groceries!" Randy blurted.

"Oh, thanks. Uh- I already said that-" Theresa trailed off, her free hand pulling at her wet hair as she looked down at the scattered food.

The next few seconds were spent picking up the groceries. Randy, for reasons he didn't understand, was trying to avoid eye contact with Theresa. Instead, he was trying to focus on saving the items in the deepest puddles first. The bread was thankfully protected by it's plastic covering. The cans were fine too, although their labels would probably warp. However, some fruits and vegetables were bruised or smashed. The umbrella balanced in his elbow, Randy dropped the items in the rescued grocery bag that Theresa held out. With the task finished, Randy was forced to acknowledge Theresa again. Her hair was a disaster, but it appeared as though she attempted to smooth it while Randy wasn't looking. Her mascara ran down her face as she gave a small smile between blushing cheeks. She wasn't wearing her usual school uniform. Instead, she was wearing a small pink T-shirt and a black knee-length skirt. Of course, both were now wet and clung to her body, but Randy used all his Ninja strength to direct his eyes back to her face. She had a knowing look in her eyes, which caused Randy to blush.

"Thanks again for the help," Theresa said. "I have to get going now, though."

"In the rain?" Randy asked, still sheltering them both under his umbrella.

"I mean, I kind of have no choice. Unless you were offering to walk me home?"

Randy was struggling to read the situation. He hadn't intended to walk her home, but then again, he wasn't exactly sure what he intended when he abandoned Howard and ran across the road. Glancing back in that direction, Randy made out the shape of Howard, flailing his arms around and presumably cussing him out for leaving him alone without an umbrella. Randy's hesitation to answer must have faltered Theresa's confidence, for she began to move around him to carry on her way.

"No wait!" Randy reached out and grabbed her arm. "What kind of helpful hero would I be if I let you walk home in the rain?" "Nice, saved it!" He gave himself a mental high-five.

"Great! Uh- I mean- if you're sure" Theresa said, looping her arm with his, removing the choice of backing out.

The body contact was enough to short-circuit Randy's brain, causing him to completely forget about Howard and the new McSneak shoes. "L-let me take that bag for you," Randy added as he took the semi-heavy grocery bag on his other arm. "So, um, where do you live exactly?" He asked, realizing he didn't know. Theresa's blush deepened at the gesture and answered, "It's in that neighborhood near the cemetery, a few more blocks away."

They walked in silence peacefully as they enjoyed the rhythm of the rain. At least, that's probably what it would have looked like to any stranger seeing the "couple" walking down the sidewalk. In reality, Randy's mind was in turmoil. Mainly because he didn't know what was going to happen after all this was done. Theresa clung to his arm as if he was her lifeline, but her face was obscured by her bangs. Their relationship, if you could call it that, was complicated. They could be considered friends, but they weren't close, nor did they know each other well. Meanwhile, Theresa's crush on him had been obvious since day one. Randy, with his life already so hectic, didn't act on her advances one way or another. Did he like her back? Of course he did, but why hadn't he asked her out yet? The idea was almost too overwhelming. Having a girlfriend would wonk up what little semblance of routine and free time he had left. Stringing her along made him feel like a total shoob though. Is that what he was doing? He didn't even know.

Biting his lip, he looked down at the bag he was carrying. Having to go out and buy his own groceries was a relatable feeling to him. With his dad out of the picture and his mom away for business most days, average household chores were left up to him. Well, as many household chores a teen boy with a secret double life can accomplish. It made him wonder why Theresa was doing the job of a parent, too. Again, they didn't know each other very well. It was worth a shot to ask...

"Sooooo, who's all this for?" Randy broke the silence in a normal and not at all awkward way.

"Me...?" Theresa answered, seemingly brought out of her own thoughts.

"All of it?" He joked as he heaved the bag like it weighed a ton.

"N-no! It's for my grandma, too!" Theresa flustered, the joke seeming lost to her.

"Oh, cool, you bring food to your grandma?"

"Kinda. You can meet her if you want," Theresa replied absent-mindedly.

"Oh, ho-ho. I'm meeting your grandma? I am speed-running through this relationship!" Randy teased. "Why the juice did I just say that?! Man, I really am stringing her along-"

"W-what?! I mean- sure, b-but I haven't told her about you yet or anything, so it might be weird..." Theresa trailed off. Ugh, she was so cute when she was flustered. "Why are you having these thoughts? You're the Ninja! The Nomicon would chew me out for this..."

The cemetery was coming into view, but Theresa didn't say when to turn and they kept walking. The rain had become a gentle drizzle and made for perfect cemetery weather. Surprisingly, there were a few people inside standing near some headstones. Although, Randy may have missed them if it wasn't for their large umbrellas. It was a nice moment despite the dark subject matter. Randy's mind drifted again as he thought about other, more fun, dates Theresa and he could go on. He had to quickly remind himself this wasn't a date though. "It could be," a small voiced whispered in his mind. After all, if he had time to stand in line for four hours just for a pair of sneakers, maybe he did have time for a girlfriend. He just needed to take that plunge and stop using his Ninja life as an excuse not to get on with his own life. He tightened his grip on the umbrella handle, bracing himself as he tried to think of what to say-

"Hm, I think I could make this work..." Theresa was mumbling to herself.

"Make what work?" Randy asked, snapping out of his trance.

"I just feel bad because I've of been stringing you along. I'm pretty busy, what with my baton practice and taking care of my grandma. It's difficult to find time just for friends, better less a boyfriend!" She replied matter-of-factly, "But you're right, maybe we should make things official" She finished, finally looking Randy in the eyes. Her big, beautiful eyes, surrounded by black smudge that used to be mascara.

Laughing was probably not the response she was looking for, but Randy couldn't contain the irony. Umbrella in one hand and groceries in the other, Randy had to keep himself from doubling over as his sides ached from the laughter. Theresa, on the other hand, broke away from his arm and looked like she was going to pass away where she stood. "W-wait, is that not what you meant?! You were just joking, weren't you?! Oh my Ninja, I'm such an idiot!" The poor girl looked like she was about to cry at this point.

"No, no, it's not that," Randy breathed between laughter. "I just felt like I was the one leading you on! I never really told you whether I was interested or not. Meanwhile, you've been all over me."

"I have?!" Theresa's whole face was as red as the Ninja's scarf.

Theresa's response made Randy's mind temporarily blank as he tried to figure out whether she was joking by asking that or if she was genuinely unaware that the whole school knew about her crush on him. Luckily, she was able to snap his mind back before it ran away from him again. "Wait, so you are interested, right? I mean, in being girlfriend and boyfriend?" her words trailing off.

Ho-boy, the question when asked so directly made the whole situation overwhelming. Randy wasn't sure if he was happy or not that he left the Nomicon at home today. If it was here now, it would definitely be buzzing and he'd have an excuse to leave. But it wasn't here. It was just him, Theresa, and the steady tapping of the rain on the umbrella. "You gotta say something, anything!"

"LET'S. Go. To. Your. Grandma's." was apparently the strategy he was going with.

"Sooo that's a yes, then?" Theresa hummed, taking Randy's arm back into her possession.

"Mhm," was all the reply she got, but it was enough. Theresa's ability to read social cues may be wonk, but poor Randy was a total open book. Including that silly little secret he kept about being the Ninja. Despite her messy hair and ruined makeup, Theresa beamed the whole way to Grandma's.

#rc9gn #randy cunningham #randy cunningham 9th grade ninja #fanfiction #fanfic #story #writing #theresa fowler #fowlham

54 notes · View notes

grifff17 · 3 days

Text

Audiodrama Sunday 6/2/2024

Happy Pride Month! Audiodramas are overwhelmingly queer anyways, almost everything I listened to this week, by total coincidence, had queer characters in it. Unrelated, I've decided to start doing new show alerts, and putting them at the top of these posts, to try to spread the word about new shows I check out.

NEW SHOW ALERT Hamuel Burger and the American Dream was created by @asbestos4president for the @podcast-bookclub Podcast Jam. The show, which currently only has 1 episode, has the insane premise of an alien twitch streamer who has come to earth to kill the president. This show was so funny. I laughed out loud multiple times. I really want a full season of this show.

NEW SHOW ALERT The pilot episode of Bitcherton, an improvised Jane Austin parody podcast, came out this week. I love the cast for this show, it already looks like its going to be really fun. The occasional modern day references ("I think he was just a misogynist") had me rolling. Their Kickstarter for a full season starts June 13th, check out the pilot episode before then!

I listened to parts 1 and 2 of the Last Breath miniseries of Skyjacks Couriers Call. The description of the whole town, and the Leviathan refinery in particular, was insane. Excited to listen to the last part when I have time.

I caught partially up with @breakerwhiskey. Holy shit, an actual other person who is alive and doesn't want to kill Whiskey. I sure hope nothing bad happens to them! Things do seem to be looking up for Whiskey, I expect something to go wrong soon.

@midnightburgr released part 2 of Welcome to the Horizon! I love Verge so much, they're such a great character. I desperately wanted to hear that conversation between Verge, Frank and June that was implied to happen right after the episode ended. Hopefully its in the next one. I bet this miniseries will lead to Verge going off to find the diner to reunite with Leif, and I can't wait for that.

@midstpodcast had a hell of an action scene in the first half of this week's episode. I loved the nature corner. This show keeps doing this thing where I'm already blown away by the episode then look at the runtime and there's still 20 minutes left.

Mission Rejected this week has me wondering how many episodes until Chet Philips is the president of the United States of America. The Speaker of the House is 3rd in line for the presidency, he's not far off. As far as the actual plot of the episode, I have fond memories of watching Murder She Wrote with my grandparents so I loved this episode. Of course she figured out they were spies. Also I love how this show changes the bumper music for themed episode to match the theme.

@re-dracula Jonathan had a good idea to try to send letters through intermediaries, but it wasn't clever enough. Dracula is actually starting to be intimidating to me, rather than charmingly weird as he was in the earlier episodes. Dracula also knows that Jonathan uses shorthand code now, which can't be good.

Dear Liisphyra this week had a really funny intro bit. Also, the idea of a Genie who is just really annoyed with the people who find his lamp is great. He's not going to curse them or anything, he just wants them to go away so he can go back inside. I keep thinking I should write a letter in to this show, they have an email address in the description, but I need an idea first.

In Spout Lore this week Vyng's dice really told a story. I feel like Vyng is usually so competent in combat, and consistently rolling badly vs the pigs was so different. Speaking of the pigs, I love the aesthetic of "post-apocalyptic farmingpunk". I've never seen anything like this before, and I don't know how else to describe it. It's a post-apocalyptic wasteland, but its of halfling farmers, so they have scarecrow disguises and beets carved into skulls.

I started a new job this week, which theoretically means I have less podcast time, but I still listened to so much this week. I'm ready for getting through more of my backlog next week!

#audiodrama sunday #audiodrama #audio fiction #hamuel burger and the american dream #hbad #bitcherton #skyjacks couriers call #breaker whiskey #midnight burger #midst podcast #mission rejected #re dracula #dear liisphyra #spout lore podcast

8 notes · View notes

fitrahgolden · 5 months

Text

WEARY MEMORY: 8 - WHEN WE WERE MARRIED

On the third morning of their Edinburgh holiday, Kate had gotten up early to make breakfast. Distracted by running through the day's itinerary in her head, she absentmindedly touched the hot skillet in which she was making hotcakes.

“Ouch, shit!”

She raised her hand to put her burned thumb in her mouth, but a large, strong hand reached out from behind her and caught her wrist. Kate looked over her shoulder. Anthony had the gall to wink at her as he pulled her thumb into his mouth instead.

Kate could apparently do little more than look on–and wanted to kick herself for it–as Anthony led her to the sink. Only then did he release her thumb from his mouth so he could run it under cold water.

“Better?” he asked, one eyebrow raised. He looked every bit the hungry predator. Perhaps he was.

Somehow, Kate was able to snap herself out of his spell. “Yep!” she chirped, walking back to the stove. “Hopefully my hotcake hasn't burned.”

“I think saving a finger would be worth it.”

“Not really. I make amazing hotcakes.”

He snuck up on her again, his mouth against her ear. “I remember.”

Kate sighed loudly, attempting to cover up the shiver Anthony had elicited.

“Still angry?”

Kate sucked her teeth and snapped, “I wasn't angry.”

“Why didn't you leave your door open for me, then?” It was a whine, and Kate took that as a victory.

“Didn't I?” she asked, her voice saccharine. “Huh, must have slipped my mind.”

“Yep, angry.”

The spatula Kate had been holding clattered onto the counter as she turned around to face him. “Well, who cheats at charades?!”

“Someone with a six year old on their team!”

“That's why you got two of the kids, and I only got one! If anyone should have been cheating, it's me!”

Kate rolled her eyes at Anthony's laughter. There were several minutes of silence as Kate finished the hotcakes and Anthony sat on the counter next to the stove, polishing off her forgotten mug of chai. It reminded her so much of the best of times.

“Done?” he asked, as she set the oven to warm.

“Done.”

Anthony hooked an arm around Kate’s waist and pulled her between his legs.

“Now will you let me apologise properly?”

“What did Dad do?”

Kate nearly jumped out of her skin getting away from Anthony when Kaveri spoke as she approached them.

“Ooh, can I sit on the counter?!” Their daughter ran to Anthony with her arms up.

“Sure thing, Petal.” Anthony swung Kaveri up to sit next to him. She picked up the empty mug and frowned.

“Can we make tea?”

Kate had recovered by then, and turned towards them, avoiding Anthony’s gaze.

“Yes, Kav. Let me sort it out.”

“But what did you do?” Kaveri looked up at her father.

“Hmm?” Fortunately for Kate, Anthony had to stop smirking at her to pay attention.

“You said you needed to apologise. It means say sorry. That means you did something bad. What was it?”

Kate decided to answer before Anthony could spread any falsehoods. “Well, you see, I think your father may have cheated when we played charades last night.”

Kaveri raised her hands to her mouth, failing to hide her wide grin. She started giggling conspiratorially at Anthony. “I know!”

Kate gasped dramatically. “You knew?!”

The six year old nodded fervently, utterly pleased with herself. “Dad helped me pick words, and we won!”

“Is that so? Well, I guess I am owed that apology, then, don’t you think?”

“I think so. Say sorry, Dad.”

“I’m sorry, Kit.” Their eyes met, and Kate decided then and there that Anthony should not be allowed to look at her without her expressed permission.

“Amma?”

“Huh?”

“Say, ‘That’s OK,’” Kaveri instructed.

Kate’s ogle at Anthony became a glare. “But what if it’s not OK?”

“Um… Then say, ‘That’s not OK,’ and he’ll try again later.”

“Yeah, can I do that, Kit?” Anthony’s eyes travelled down Kate’s body, and back up again. “Can I try again later?”

Kate raised her chin defiantly. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“Ooh, now shake hands,” Kaveri commanded with a clap, drunk with power.

Kate took Anthony’s hand, a heady feeling warring with the sweetness of the moment, playing together with their youngest. It felt–

“I won’t make you kiss, because you aren’t in love, or like very much, like the pretty lady on Dad's phone.”

—

Anthony saw Kate’s serene expression neutralise immediately, and she tugged her hand from his.

“Alright, Chellam, let’s make some tea, eh?”

Kate helped Kaveri down from the counter and handed her a jar of whole spices and a small pot.

Anthony grimaced, sliding off the counter as well. “Kit–”

“We're having Amma Cakes?!” their daughter exclaimed, peeking into the oven.

Kate nodded, keeping her attention completely on Kaveri. “We're having Amma Cakes.”

“With Eddy Jam?!”

“With Eddy Jam.”

“Have you had Amma Cakes, Dad?”

“Yep, loads of times,” Anthony sighed.

“When you were married?”

Anthony looked at Kate. Her back was turned to him as she took too long retrieving milk from the fridge. “Yeah, when we were married.”

“So, when I was a baby?” Kaveri continued, blissfully unaware of the tension growing around her.

“Even before then, love.”

“So, like, forever?”

He finally caught Kate casting a look his way, her expression impassive.

“Yeah, forever.”

“Kav, can you put the spices together?”

“Yes, Amma. I’m going to drink all the tea before Neddy and Maan get up.”

“Well, you’d better work fast, then.”

“I’ll work so fast! Watch.” She started adding ingredients to the pot with big gestures and sound effects.

Anthony’s patience was running out. He approached Kate carefully, keeping his voice low.

“Hey.”

“Need something?” she asked, a cold edge to her voice.

He clenched his jaw. “She was talking about Siena, Kit. And a conversation that happened ages ago.”

Relief, then embarrassment fluttered across Kate's features. In the end, she just looked annoyed. “I didn’t ask, Anthony.”

“Doesn’t mean you didn’t want to know.”

Kate scoffed. Anthony chanced a touch on her shoulder. She didn’t move, but she looked beyond him at Kaveri, who was beaming with pride as she put the pot next to the stove.

“It’s fine.” She waved him off.

“Is it?” He asked, following her as she walked around him.

“Yes,” she said over her shoulder sharply. Anthony backed off.

—

The main event for the day was The Chocolatarium. Kate was thankful that Anthony seemed to follow her lead and kept his distance throughout the tour and chocolate making class. They just focused on the kids, and only on the kids, like they had since they separated.

Kate had to admit that it felt odd, returning to their previous dynamic for the day, the dynamic that had gotten disrupted only a few weeks ago. It had apparently taken no time at all for her to be comfortable with her fledgling rekindled relationship with Anthony, because within hours, she found herself missing it.

Kate was thankful they had already planned for dinner to be at a restaurant that evening. With three kids to keep up with, being out all day made it easier to avoid lulls, times when Anthony may try to talk to her.

It gave her more time to think before that talk would inevitably happen.

—

After getting ready for bed, Anthony peeked out into the hall. He was surprised but relieved to see Kate's door cracked open, the light dim inside her room.

After a cursory look towards the kids rooms, Anthony knocked lightly before opening Kate's door a little further. She was looking up expectantly from the bed, glasses on, sketchbook in hand.

“Hi.” His whisper was barely audible to his own ears. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” She shifted over on the mattress as Anthony made sure to lock her door. Careful. Then he settled next to her against the headboard.

“What are you working on?”

Kate shrugged, “Art for your book.”

Anthony glanced down at the paper. “No, you aren't,” he snorted.

“What?”

“Kit, come on.” Anthony gave her an incredulous look, and Kate looked just a little bit guilty.

“What?”

“Why does Maan look like a villain? You can't tip the readers in your favour like that.”

Kate's jaw dropped, and she laughed. “A villain? That's how he looks!”

“How could you do that to your own son?” he pleaded with her.

She laughed harder, and Anthony joined her.

“What am I doing? If you think your son looks sinister, that's saying a lot about you.”

“No.” Anthony took the sketchbook and tossed it on the bedside table. “I won't allow it.”

“We'll see what you'll allow,” Kate muttered as she took her glasses off and placed them on top of the book. “What are you gonna do about Kav, by the way? She will not stand for Ned and Maan having books written about them.”

“Oh, I know. I'm working on it. She's gonna be a superhero. And she'll get three books.”

“Oh, she'll love that.”

“I know.”

Things went quiet. Anthony rubbed the back of his hand against Kate's.

“Kit?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you get so spooked?”

That really had been the word for it. Sure, it sounded for a moment like Anthony was chatting with someone while trying to reconcile with his ex-wife, but hadn't his explanation cleared that up pretty quickly?

“It's hard to explain,” Kate sighed, leaning her head back.

“Please try,” Anthony implored gently, as gently as he was running his hand up and down her arm.

“Well, at first, it sounded like… Well, I know I said we aren't dating, but–”

“I don't care what we call it. I want to marry you. So, whatever the fuck this is, it's exclusive.” He kissed her shoulder, testing her further, needing them to be alright.

Kate laughed. “Yes, OK.”

“So, what about after I explained?”

“Well, it was too late, I guess. It took no time for me to get into my head about us. I… These past few weeks, they haven't been perfect, but, honestly, in some ways, it feels too good to be true.”

Anthony nodded his understanding.

“So, it's like… As soon as the opportunity came up to doubt this whole thing, it's like I jumped on it, despite it just being a misunderstanding. It put me in that headspace for the rest of the day regardless.” Kate looked at him. “I'm sorry.”

“No, I get it.” Anthony took a few moments, a bit worried about her reaction to what he needed to say next. “But, Kit, do you have faith that this will work out?” Kate raised her eyebrows slightly. “I'm not proposing–yet. But I need to know you feel like we're on the right track. I just… Everything is out in the open between us, Kit. Please don't be constantly looking over your shoulder, waiting for a surprise. Just keep moving forward with me, hm? Trust me, please, and we'll be alright. And that's regardless of what we decide to do or not do, Kit. We will always be alright.”

Anthony put a hand up to her cheek and rested his forehead on hers. Kate leaned into him.

“OK,” she whispered before kissing him. “When did we stop talking like this?” she sighed.

Anthony shook his head slowly. “Let's consider this the night we started again.”

He reached across Kate, and hooked a hand under her knee. Anthony pulled her around and onto his lap so she was straddling him. His hands settled in her hips.

“We spent the day together, and I missed you the entire time.”

Kate combed her fingers through his hair. “Mm, I felt the same way.”

She continued massaging his scalp, moving to his temples. Anthony almost purred. No one could relax him like Kate.

“I love you,” he moaned as his eyes rolled back. It came out so naturally, he wasn't quite cognizant of the fact that he'd even said it until Kate's fingers stilled. He opened his eyes. There were tears in hers. “Kit, you don't have to–”

“I love you, too.”

Anthony wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. “You do? Because I know we said we'd always love each other, and we make sure the kids know that, but I mean I am in love with you, Kit. I don’t know if I ever stopped being in love with you, or if I just made myself call it something else because we decided like idiots that we shouldn't be together.” Kate was actually crying now. Anthony intermittently kissed and wiped her tears away as he continued.

“I know we were hurting. I know we were angry. I know we were tired. And we'll keep working on it. I'm going to work so fucking hard to make sure we don't fall back into that place. I promise you that, Kit.”

“Aren't you scared?” Kate asked through the tears that continued to fall. “Because, when it comes down to it, we broke up because things got too hard. Things will always be hard, Anthony.”

“I know, baby.”

“Every time we tried to support each other, it ended in a pissing contest over who had it worse. I thought Kav broke me, and I was angry that you couldn't fix it.”

“But we know better now. We know so much better now.”

Kate nodded shakily and Anthony nodded along with her.

“Breathe, Kit. With me.” Kate mirrored Anthony's deep breaths.

“Just don't forget this, OK?” Anthony put his hand over her heart, over the rings that laid there. “We won't forget this. Not again. Never again.”

“Never again,” she whispered, putting her hand on top of his. “I promise.”

—

14 notes · View notes

rockingrobin69 · 2 years

Text

The Possibly Grave Case of Madeleines

Harry’s already put down the knitting when the doorbell went off again. He hasn’t fixed it, so it still shrieked rather than rang: door! Like a crow learning how to speak, with all the enthusiasm that might entail. Door! Door! Door!

“All right, all right, I’m coming,” Harry murmured into his house coat, wrapping up tight. On the other side of door, looking like he could effectively murder someone, was young Lord Malfoy himself. Or—perhaps he didn’t go by that name anymore. Maybe now he was just Draco. Maybe Harry could ask him if it would be all right to call him that.

“Erm,” Lord maybe Draco cleared his throat. “Mr. Potter. Good morning.”

“Morning,” Harry swallowed. Malfoy smelled like his pipe, like morning air and horses and rain. Or maybe not rain, but certainly wet; and perhaps it was less a smell, more the way his hair clung to his head, little-baby-duckling form.

“I was—may I come in?”

“Of course.” Harry stepped aside, eyes still glued to the tight riding leathers. “Shall I put on the kettle?”

“Please, I’m dying for a tea. Not dying. Very much alive, if only for the time being. But I would very much like a cup of tea.”

Harry paused on the way to the kitchen to look back, eyebrow all the way up. “Pardon?”

Lo-Mal-Draco sighed. “I’m sorry to be bothering you with this petty business so early in the morning, but I’m afraid something’s afoot. After the grand job you did at Lancashire, I thought perhaps I could use your remarkable skills once again.”

The blush came on in bits and pieces, warm on his face. “I wasn’t exactly… just happened to be… would love to be use—of use—do you really think you’re in danger?”

“Not enough to warrant further delay on the tea, no.”

He chuckled, surprising himself. Malfoy looked very pretty when he was pleased. “All right. Have a seat, I’ll be right with you.”

Harry busied himself with the kettle until he wasn’t so embarrassingly red anymore, then came to the sitting room with the brew he knew Draco preferred, and a lemon madeleine too, his favourite. Not that Harry had been making those every day. Just that baking was such a splendid way to spend his time.

“This is very intriguing work,” His-former-Lordship commented, pointing at the project entangled on the knitting needles. “If I may venture a guess, is that to be a hat?”

“Gloves,” Harry smiled. “Perhaps you should leave the guesswork to me.”

“You are quite good at it,” Draco conceded, and strangely he was smiling too. Harry rarely ever saw him smile, in Lancashire. It was such a breathtaking difference. “Despite the fact you are not classically trained, and ardently refuse to work with the local department.”

“It’s not fun if it’s work,” Harry said delicately, and decided—on a mad whim—to sit next to him on the settee. “But I am very glad you think so highly of me. So, would you like to tell me what’s going on?”

Malfoy took a deep breath.

“It began last week, when the cottage in Wiltshire started spewing frogs from the chimney. Spellwork gone wrong, I thought at first. Gave it no mind. Caught all the frogs and released them at the lake. Then, four days ago, one of the houses in Surrey collapsed—termites, they said. Just two days ago, if you can imagine, the west wing of the castle in Fife caught fire—no one was in at the time, luckily—and then, if you can believe it, the final straw. My city flat has been entirely ruined by a miscast weather-storm from the family upstairs. Everything is ruined—everything.”

Harry let the rant dissipate into another gulp of tea, worryingly amused. “A rather large case of ill luck, it sounds.”

“Or something graver,” Draco said hopefully. “It could be something graver, still. Hypothetically speaking.”

“Hmm. I suppose.”

“That’s four of the former-Malfoy estates, all in the scope of a week,” he argued. “I was going to ask—feel free to say no, of course, the request is entirely mad. But do you think I could, perhaps, for the time being, until we got a better idea of the situation—could I perhaps stay with you?” his eyelashes were so long, blinking quickly over grey-grey eyes. “For my safety only, of course. Nothing… improper.”

“Never,” Harry said, fighting back the glee. Malfoy had plenty of places he could go, all of his friends and extended Black family to stay with, the bloody police he liked so much for help. And he came here. For his safety only, naturally.

“So, what do you say? Would it be possible for me to…”

“Of course,” Harry cut him off, and the hand that ended on his thigh was purely unintentional. “Of course, stay for as long as you like. I have all the madeleines you could want and a considerable supply of your favourite tea.”

“You’re a godsend, Harry Potter,” Draco closed his eyes and leaned back. “I appreciate it. I could pay you, of course, it’s not a matter of—”

“I don’t think that would be necessary. This isn’t my job, after all.” Harry gave him a gleaming smile. “Perhaps you could help me with my knitting in return.”

“Certainly a worthy cause,” Draco said, and it was settled.

For the incredible @saintgarbanzo, 900 words. You can prompt me too!

#drarry #fic #900 words #murder mystery vibes but no murder #Lord Draco #former?#Draco is splitting up the Malfoy estate and BOY has he got ideas #knitting harry #RockingRobin69

151 notes · View notes

breakfastteatime · 28 days

Note

For Talk Shop Tuesday: What's one of your skills that you've learned over time that you're really proud of? Can you show off some examples of where you executed this well? <3 - @fieldsofview

Ooooh, good question @fieldsofview, thank you ^_^

I think one thing I've really learned over time is editing. I'm still learning! I get really caught up in the tiny details during a first draft because I'm telling myself the story first (long live pantsing!!), so I gotta get all that detail out, even if it's in the wrong place! It slows the flow of the narrative, or things might be revealed too early. It's a bit tricky to give actual examples, but I'll do my best using one of my older JFO stories and how I'd edit it now (only 2 years later!)

This is from 'Trust' my first JFO fic:

'Cere walks away. Silence settles again. Breathing through the faintness, Cal lapses into memory once more. He remembers nothing between Zeffo and Ordo Eris. One moment he was on his feet, defending himself against a bounty hunter, and the next he woke up in that cell, alone, BD-1 nowhere to be found. He allows himself to feel the bright, sharp bloom of sheer panic again, before releasing it to the Force. It wasn’t easy. The horror of potentially missing BD-1, of leaving him behind in that hellhole, threatens to overwhelm Cal’s strained self-control. Without realising, he’s reached out to BD-1, his hand resting atop the little droid’s head. BD-1 decides that’s all the invite he needs to nestle himself in the spot between Cal and the front of the couch.'

If I were to go back and edit this paragraph now, it'd look a bit more like this:

'Cere walks away. Silence settles again. Breathing through the faintness, Cal lapses back into memory, prodding the blank space where the journey from Zeffo to Ordo Eris should be. One moment he was on his feet, defending himself against a bounty hunter, the next he woke up in a heap in a cell, alone, BD-1 nowhere to be found. The bright, sharp bloom of sheer panic flares again. BD, gone. Another friend, gone. Cal releases it to the Force. Tries, anyway. The horror of potentially missing BD, of leaving him behind in that hellhole, claws at Cal’s strained self-control. He reaches out to BD, hand resting atop the little droid’s head. BD decides that’s all the invite he needs to nestle himself in the spot between Cal and the front of the couch.'

It's all little changes that (hopefully!) make for a better story. That, and two years of getting to know the characters better and becoming more familiar with writing in present tense.

Thanks so much for the Ask!

#answered asks #my writing #writing stuff #fanfic stuff

4 notes · View notes

imapuppy5000 · 2 months

Text

Here’s a bunch of stories I haven’t finished and probably never will. Yay.

Sage belongs to @theacedragon0w0

Hazel belongs to @puffymuncher

Rosa belings to @mirconreadzztuff22

Velvette, Charlie, Angel, Vaggie, and so on are from hazbin hotel

———————————-

Warning: child death, murder

“Ya know..” Vlk muttered, sitting on the couch with Hazel, Rosa, Sage, and Velvette. She was looking up at the ceiling, twiddling her thumbs anxiously. It had been a good few days since Sage admitted to killing a child. She had been debating whether to share this or not but feeling it might help she sighed and looked at her hands, pulling them apart slightly. “I uh.. I got a kid killed when I was alive.”

Sage tensed, pupils constricting and breath hiking. They didn’t say anything though. The rest of the polycule turned to Vlk so she took a breath and continued.

“I was young, Stupid.. I was new to everything related to my job. I did research for a client, decided their hit fit into my rules. I agreed to take on the job and… well I was wrong. I had just slit the mothers throat..” her eyes watered and voice caught, all eyes were on her now. Her hands clasped eachother at the terrible memory, “A-and I heard this noise. I told my partner to finish up with the dad and I went to investigate. I found a little boy, no more then four years old. He had woken up from the noise his parents made as we killed them— my partner was being sloppy— loud— he had come out of his room and he saw me— he saw my face. I froze. He asked what game I was playing, I said cowboy. He asked for his mother. That’s when my partner saw me and the kid. They told me to kill him— said there can’t be any witnesses. I told em no but they took my gun and shot him. Right in the head. He was dead. I should have known they had a kid— I should’ve seen the signs! But I didn’t. I did so many things wrong and because of me he got killed.”

Silence weighed around her as she cried, thumb digging into her wrist and pressing against the artery. “I didn’t mean for it to happen but I should’ve been more careful— I should have *known*-“ a hand rested gently on her shoulder and she immediately flinched away but the hand just tightened. Hazel looked down at her.

“Yer sorry though?”

“Yes. God, if I could take it all back I would, even if it meant me dying.”

“And you didn’t mean for it to happen.” Rosalinda chimed softly, rubbing Vlk’s head reassuringly as she sometimes did.

“No- o-of course not!”

“And it was your partner anyways.” Velvette added, hand on Sage’s leg.

Sage nodded, “You didn’t pull the trigger.”

Vlk wanted to spit that she may not have pulled the trigger but she set the plan in motion. It was her fault— she had a child’s blood on her hands— but she didn’t. She clenched her fangs and nodded.

“Then it’s okay. I know you’d never intend to hurt anyone. Much less a kid. I’ve seen you with Pip.”

Vlk flinched at that and she looked Sage in the eye. “I was a hit man. I hurt people all the time. And I enjoyed almost every second of it.”

(If you want the story Vlk is reciting, lmk)

Warning: Abuse, also Valentino

Vlk hissed as she was slammed against the wall. It didn’t hurt but it just about knocked the breath out of her and something cracked in her back. In the next second she was being pinned and lifted by her neck. Not the first time it had happened but this time she was scared. She had people to love now, people that cared about her. She held his hand tightly and tried to pull it off of her but for being so skinny Valentino was very strong. He spat something at her and choked her further, she couldn’t even hear what he was saying with her ears ringing the way they were.

Her vision was swarming. Hopefully she’d just pass out and she could wake up and return home. As she was about to pass out she was released and collapsed on the ground, hand hovering over her throat as she heaved for air and coughed. Through teary eyes she looked up.

“Cross me again.” Val said with a squeak. “And yours won’t be the only life I take.” With that he left the room and slammed the door behind her, leaving her alone in the dark with only a faint few lights from her vanity.

Once she caught her breath she worked her way to her paws and approached one of the mirrors she had covered. Hesitantly she pulled off the sheet and looked at herself. Her eye was swollen and arm sat at a strange angle. She could feel blood soaking her fur on the back of her head and hoped the wound wouldn’t be noticeable once she patched it up. Her arm was dislocated, luckily, she had worried it had broken when he yanked her back the way he had. Dislocations were much easier than breaks. Her eye would, unfortunately, be hard to hide but maybe if she wore sunglasses? No, that was too obvious. She’d just have to make up a lie. She didn’t want anyone raging and putting themselves in danger just because she was in a bad mood and picked a fight she wasn’t prepared to win. She knew, if push came to shove, she could kill Valentino but… with her feelings for him she couldn’t really bring herself to raise a hand to him.

Vlk set her arm and cleaned her head wound and left the studio in a rush, the dang thing wouldn’t stop bleeding and she needed someone to close it. None of the guards could know though and neither could Angel. Slipping into the hotel she was grateful to find Husk alone.

“I need help.”

“Why’d you come to me then?” He sneered.

“Shut up. I got hurt and it won’t stop bleeding. I know you know how to close wounds. I have a suturing kit in my room. Come on.”

Husk didn’t move so Vlk ran her hand over the back of her hand and slammed it down on the counter, leaving a bloody handprint. “Come. On.” She hissed through gritted teeth. “I need to be back at the tower *soon*.”

“I’ll help but you gotta clean this up after.” He grumbled, coming out from behind the desk and following the patron to her room where she rifled through her bathroom cabinet and pulled out a first aid kit. She set it on the counter and sat on the toilet, turning to face the wall. Carefully husk split her fur and dried the blood until he could see the wound.

With a sharp intake of air he said, “It’s big. No wonder it won’t stop bleeding.”

“Head wounds always look worse than they are. Can you fix it?”

He didn’t respond but she felt the needle slip through her skin.

“So. Valentino?”

“No. I got into a fight I couldn’t win with a hellhound guarding the studio.”

Husker hummed though he didn’t believe the story for a second. Vlk was tiny but she could hold her own against much larger opponents. He had seen it once before when the hotel was attacked. She must’ve either really gotten in it or have let this happen. Not to mention the distinct lack of bite marks on her meant it probably wasn’t a hellhound she fought. But he didn’t say anything. It wasn’t his place to. “You’re done.”

“Thanks. Don’t tell anyone this happened. Please. I-I gotta go.”

“My bar!”

Vlk nodded before she rushed out of the room. She didn’t have long before her partners started to worry about where she was, if they weren’t already.

She scrubbed the bar quickly and threw the bloodied rag in the sink before racing back to the tower.

She felt where the stitches were and frowned to herself. There was a bald patch. They’d be just as noticeable as the eye! That made her want to cry. She tried so hard to hide the abuse— she usually could. Bruises hid easily under fur. Cuts and scrapes did too. Dislocations could be fixed with a wall or a kind worker at the studio. But these injuries were much harder to hide. The other would know and they’d put themselves at risk over something stupid like Vlk getting hurt because she was too emotional to fight her boss.

“Vlk!” Sage yelped. The girl hadn’t even realized she was up to the room yet. Her face was grabbed ever so gently and turned this way and that as Sage examined her eye.

“Stop.” Vlk huffed, pushing her away. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine!” Sage snarled but was gently nudged back by Rosalina.

“I am fine.” Vlk spat back, bristling. “I just got into a fight leaving work. It’s no big deal.” She brushed past them, trying to ignore the look Rosa gave her.

Then she heard a gasp and remembered very suddenly she had stitches.

“That b——-d!” Sage cried. “I’m gonna f—king kill him!”

“Don’t you f—kin touch him!” Vlk hissed, whirling around. “I don’t need you meddling in my business.”

“He’s hurt you for the last time!” Sage yelled back, adjusting their mechanic arm.

“I said no!”

“He deserves it!”

“I don’t care! I let him do it, if I wanted to I could stop it but I don’t.”

“Why not?!”

“Guys.” Rosalina said gently, a firm hand on each party's shoulder. “Let’s calm down. Talk about this.”

“I’m tired of trying to talk to her about this! She just lets him bully her! It’s time to take action.” Sage jerked away from their partner, “Look at her! How much more serious of an injury do you need?”

“She’s not ready yet.” Rosa argued. “She’ll leave when she is.” She turned to Vlk and added gently, “But Sage is right. This is a bad injury. I think it’s time you really consider leaving.”

“I can’t. I need the money.”

“Velvette will get you a job. There’s no need to work for that punk.”

———————————————-

Working for Carmilla was difficult. Getting up early and going to bed late, completely exhausted. But it was nice. The work was leaving him sore so he knew he was getting stronger. He had a steady place to sleep and predictable meal times. So what if he couldn’t move by the time he laid down to go to bed, the pros outweighed that by a lot in his opinion.

Unfortunately his week was over and thus his cozy little life was about to be ruined. It was nice while it lasted, he thought, trying to shove some things he though Carmilla wouldn’t miss in a bag.

There was a sharp knock on his door and he hid the bag behind his back, turning around to see the overlord towering above him.

“What are you doing?” She asked, pointing at the bag.

“Nothin! Just gettin ready to leave.”

“Why?”

He blinked at her in confusion before slowly, as if spelling it out for her, saying, “My week is over.”

“And you’re just going to leave?”

“My week is over.” He repeated.

“Okay. If you want to leave you can. I was going to offer you a job though, and housing and food.”

The bag dropped along with the pup's mouth. “What?”

“A job, same work as you’re doing now and same conditions as we agreed on earlier but now you’ll be paid.”

“Really?!” His tail lashed behind him, “A real job?! Are you sure? And I can keep my room?” He bounced forward and she laughed, petting his head fondly.

“You have to accept it first.”

“Yes! Yes I accept! 100 percent!” He grinned at the pets, something that had never happened to him before.

“If you do well, maybe you can move up in the ranks.”

And move up he did. As he grew older he was much stronger, Carmilla took him under her wing fairly early on and taught him to fight. He was raised alongside her daughters and Sydney, though he was the oldest of the bunch, and he became a big brother to them. He still preferred carmilla’s company though. After years of working his way from warehouse to shipping to manager he got the biggest promotion of his life. He became Carmilla’s personal body guard. He didn’t feel he deserved the role— there was still so many weapons he still had to learn how to use, but he accepted the job and did his best. He became more alert and was by her side almost constantly. She trusted him with her life and he couldn’t ask for more. He would not fail her.

Orion sighed as he padded up to the hazbin hotel on his day off, just as promised. He opened the door and the room went quiet, several eyes peering at him. One set was particularly familiar.

“Vlk?” He barked, “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?!” She snarled back. “This is my turf!”

“Hey, no, no one has claim to this hotel but me.” Charlie said soothingly. “If he wants to visit or stay he can. Now, why don’t you introduce us?” She clapped her hands and bounced on to her tiptoes.

Vlk glowered at her but regardless gestured to the hellhound. “That’s Orion. He works for-“

“Carmilla.” Vaggie answered. “I saw him when I was there awhile back.”

Orion nodded, “Right, the angel. I remember you getting your butt whooped.”

“Hey! I landed a blow or two near the end.”

Orion smirked. “Well I wouldn’t say that but you did earn your wings so that counts for something. Nice to properly meet you…?”

“Vaggie.” She came forward and shook his paw firmly.

“Vaggie.” He repeated. “I liked your spunk.”

#hazbin hotel #oc #short story #vlk #writers on tumblr #hellhound #writing

3 notes · View notes

fiendpact · 8 months

Text

fucking hell, the night i’ve had with bg3. i got into act two and shit just kept fucking happening 😭

two feet off the elevator basically and i meet elminster, who eats my cheese and drinks my wine and then tells gale mystra wants him to kill himself

try to tell gale we could find another way to deal with the absolute’s heart; falls on mostly deaf ears

the entire party basically said fuck mystra, we love gale

^ all except halsin, who had no opinion but did come onto me for the second time since we met

fought some shadows with the harpers, had gale come onto me via talking about smutty literature. immediately put on edge at having to reject him soon

get to the last light inn, meet jaheira and the tiefling kids again. meet his majesty!!! see raphael sitting against a window. find rolan drinking about his potentially dead siblings. immediately leave in search of dammon instead

find dammon. updates karlach’s quest (she is NOT looking good). go back to camp to get karlach; long rest

long rest brings mizora. UGH. she wants us to save some devil from moonrise towers. tell her she has to release wyll from his pact if we do. she repeatedly calls him a dog before disappearing

check in on everyone again. wyll thanks me for sticking his neck out for him (💖). karlach says wyll’s happiness is her happiness (🥺). astarion wants to find raphael to talk about his scar (😥).

go to sleep. surprise dream visitor visit in the most revealing outfit i could’ve possibly imagined. completely caught off guard the entire scene bc i thought he also was going to try to make a move on me

still no gale confession scene. still a black cloud above me

go back to last light. talk to dammon, get karlach on the road to recovery (still have to find infernal iron). talk to the strange ox again - it shows me mountains of dead bodies. makaria relates to the ox as she’s dealing with the dark urge. decide to leave the ox alone (for now)

go talk to raphael and mol. help mol win the game. both gale and astarion are now inspired :) but raphael says he’ll find us later to talk more about astarion’s request :(

go back to camp. have a few chats - astarion says he “respects my killing instinct” and that i should consider taking control of the power the tadpoles have instead of getting rid of it

tell him NO THANK YOU. please do not say that to me. he scoffs me off but otherwise doesn’t actually disapprove of my answer, so hopefully uh… i haven’t locked anything in wrt That yet

long rest again. still expecting to get gale’s confession, but — THE BUTLER? cue me pounding my fist on the table

he goes through his schtick. wants me to kill the last light cleric bc i “haven’t been disinherited yet” and i have to “feed the Urge” or else who knows who i may kill next?? rudely brings up alfira. fucks off into the night

realize it’s like 11:30pm and i should go to bed. STILL never got gale’s confession, if i’m going to get it at all, which i hope i don’t but i’m sure i will

this has been, by far, my most eventful session to date. holy hell

#IT JUST WOULDNT END. JESUS #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #jess.txt

11 notes · View notes

sakuimpact · 2 years

Text

what is art? like a declaration of love

character: albedo

genre: fluff !!

notes: this is based on my prev. released hcs/scenarios for ‘how they express love’. i had lots of fun writing this! lol i kinda pressured myself to write as descriptively as my *other* published wks for other fandoms, but i paused and realized that this is being written for personal fulfillment and as a hobby! i hope this wk makes u smile :) thank u for supporting me,,

. . .

“You don’t have inspiration this time around?”

“It’s not that actually. . .” Albedo responds, eyeing the empty vial in his hand.

“This is 5 milliliters. . .hm.”

“Should I leave?” You half-smile. When Albedo got in ‘the zone’, it was usually best to leave and let him focus. Alchemy was a field that required the utmost thoroughness and dedication, which you believed suited him just fine. Not that he needed anyone to tell him otherwise.

“No, no. I apologize for being quite out of it today. I’m just conflicted. My behavior must reflect that.”

You nudge his shoulder. “There’s no need to be sorry.”

He sighs. “Still, I should be more aware of my surroundings.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Albedo. You’re always finding something new, right? You notice so many different things.”

“But they feel inadequate when it counts.” Albedo confesses.

You perked up suddenly. “You know, I read something recently that might help.”

“Oh?”

“In the olden days, famous poets like Homer and would invoke the Muses in their work. Before the prologue or any other stanzas, a prayer or plea of some sort would be said. Inspiration was always seen as divine recognition and a blessing from above, so those who boasted or didn’t give credit would often be cursed or end up suffering. Maybe what you need is. . .a random object to draw inspiration from?”

He seems to consider it for a moment. “That does sound intriguing. But what could possibly be something I haven’t already studied?”

“I think that’s for you to figure out.” You gently place both of your hands in his. He looks up hopefully at your face, letting the smallest hint of a smile break his default expression.

“You have a point, Y/N. Still, I can’t help but feel like the answers I seek are right in front of me. . .” He crosses his arms.

You laugh lightly. It’s becoming crystal-clear that the whole advice column isn’t your forte. “Maybe. Listen, I have to get going–finishing up commissions and all. . .but I’ll see you later? If you still want to eat together, that is.”

“Of course I do. Please take care, Y/N. I’ll meet you at Good Hunter later tonight.”

“Sounds like a plan!” You tip your head in his direction before exiting the lab, making sure to shut the door all the way.

Albedo waves his hand at you, his lips pressed in a tight line. No sooner was the door shut, did he collapse into his chair. The sudden, knotted feeling in his chest was something he couldn’t quite understand.

. . .

During your meal, he finally breaks the silence.

“I’d like you to model for me.” His monotone voice almost makes it seem like he’s reporting the weather or results of an alchemy experiment.

You were working through the remains of your Sweet Madame, picking at the sides you didn’t like–and completely caught off guard.

“Model for you? Oh of cour–wait. . .what?!”

“I’d like you to be the model for my next painting, Y/N.”

It was an odd request, you admit. You clear your throat, chugging down your drink and washing down the food that had somehow lodged itself in your throat. Honestly, you should know how to react better. It’s a simple request! One that you might have been the catalyst for, seeing as you decided to give advice on a field you’re not very well-versed in. Heck, you can’t even draw a stick figure!

But, witnessing Albedo’s earnest expression (as earnest as you can get when it comes to him) and simple query was endearing in some of the best ways. Maybe you could help him after all. Even though you’re certain that you are the farthest thing from runway-ready, Albedo probably doesn’t care. He’s asking for help, not demanding you solve his problems. Still, why would you want to say no to an opportunity like this?

“I’ll do my best to model for your next painting, Albedo!”

“Great.”

. . .

“What do you even wear to a modeling. . .er painting session?” You wonder aloud, sifting through your closet. There was always your favorite outfit, but even that seemed too ‘meh’ for today. Wasn’t there anything that wasn’t rumpled or neon-colored in Teyvat’s clothing industry? You debated asking one of your friends for a spare jacket or hat, but it was already 10 minutes before your appointment. Everyone was probably already at work.

You slip on a black shirt and pinafore combo, tugging the hem downwards and doing a quick spin in front of the mirror.

“Time to go!”

. . .

The art room smells like a mix of paint, wooden pencils, charcoal and clay. Basically, it’s heaven (as long as you don’t sniff the brush cleaner or eat the art paste used for paper mache).

“Sooo. . .I just have to sit down and smile?” You take a seat on a lone wooden tripod, probably forgotten from last night’s art class.

“Or wait, maybe I should frown? Or just stare blankly ahead? What vibe are we going for today? Do artists even try to capture ‘vibes’?”

Albedo runs a hand through his hair, looking anywhere but at his blank canvas that is staring him down. “I appreciate your ‘vibes’ and enthusiasm, Y/N. Though I’m not sure if I can capture this–”

“Nuh-uh. I’m not going to model for you if you keep going on this Albedo-bashing train of self-doubt. I don’t know how many times you need to hear this, but you’ve created and discovered so many beautiful things. I just know that whatever you paint today is going to be spectacular. Even if you decide to draw my nose backwards or. . .something. Just try. Isn’t that all we can do? No one’s perfect.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Let’s get on with this then!”

“Alright.”

. . .

“Can I blink now?”

“Naturally.”

. . .

“How long has it been? The sun is going down.” You point out. Your legs are numb from being stuck in one position for the past hours.

“I’m almost finished, Y/N.”

“You’ve said that 5 times already!”

. . .

“You’re art.”

Albedo stops mid-stroke, setting his paintbrush down to dry. The purple line he swept across the canvas appears more jagged than he would like. Still, he picks your voice out of the soft whispers and ideas that cloud his mind. He can’t help but listen.

“What did you say?” His voice rings out in the quiet of the room.

“You’re art.”

Albedo is taken aback by those two words. He tentatively peeks out from behind his current project to glance at your face.

“What about my art?”

You half-smile, folding one hand over the other. You’re not entirely sure if this is the best thing to share right now. He might not understand. No, it’s not that he won’t understand--it’s that you’re afraid to come to terms with something you’ve known all along. Confessing your feelings--to Albedo’s face (you might add) might change everything.

“Y/N, if there’s anything you want to know about my art–you can just ask.”

It was bound to be said anyway. Once you start speaking, you can’t stop. The words you’ve saved up in your heart just overflow and spill themselves at the artist’s feet. Maybe he’ll accept them.

“Your art is an extension of yourself, Albedo. And I. . .think that what you create is beautiful. But not just that. What I really think, is that you’re beautiful. You’re art. And I hope that I can be a muse and reach you.”

His breath catches in his throat. He never expected something like that. All the planning and carefully executed experiments he’s laid out have never quite reached this type of outcome. The room is charged in an almost electrifying tension and the seconds turn to minutes. The flecks of dust in the lab stand out in the almost pristine lab, catching the sunbeams that filter through the windows.

Albedo kneels at your feet, keeping his head facing downward. He gently clutches your hand and lifts it to his lips.

“You know, in some ways the subject of the art is more important than the actual artist.” He says softly.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Albedo.” You chide him.

“It takes two.”

You nudge his shoulder, prompting him to stand up. He falls into your embrace, holding you with unimaginable tenderness.

#sakuimpact #saku writes #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin scenarios #albedo #albedo x reader #albedo kreideprinz #genshinblr #genshin fluff #fluff #genshin impact x y/n #albedo x y/n #genshin x reader #reader insert #cafeteyvat

90 notes · View notes