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hunnylagoon · 3 months

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Right Where You Left Me

Pt 4: The Sweetest Thing to Ever Scare You (Finale)

Ellie Williams x reader

I remember when I first saw you. I remember looking into your warm almond eyes and feeling butterflies in my stomach. But soon, when I looked into your eyes, I no longer felt the same warmth that I once knew. It felt as though you had killed all of the butterflies inside my stomach but yet, I still loved you.

Premise: You and Ellie are childhood best friends until you drift apart. Funny thing about soulmates is they tend to find their way back to each other. You and Ellie try to end the tireless war between you.

Warnings: Angst / drinking / violence / not really religious mentions in this one

Part one here!

Part two here!

Part three over here!

Guys I thought I posted this two days ago but I actually just saved it to drafts. Sorry for being an idiot lmao

I think that I have unlearned how to love.

That’s not even a word but there is no other way to tell you that I have turned myself cold.

Without partying to distract me and religion to fill in gaps of emptiness, I isolate myself and begin to write once again. I'm almost certain that my body has been telling me to write, that I need to pour myself into art as opposed to a girl I was friends with a million years ago.

I figure that I need to create rather than destroy but it might take me a while to do so.

The morning after I abandoned my faith on the church floor, I had woken up and expected Ellie to be gone, however, she was wide awake and playing subway surfers on her phone. Her hair is messy and her eyes are half-lidded.

She turns to look at me when she feels the shuffling of the bedsheets; despite her doing nothing more than smile at me it is like an understanding passed between us, war is over.

Almost.

It's like I've forgotten how to be soft, I can't manage to get the words out that I need to, and the thought of it alone makes me cringe. "Breakfast?" I ask, unsure of what else to say.

Ellie passes on it and I awkwardly excuse myself, saying that I got called in to take a brunch shift at work. Of course, this is not true. What I do is get into my car and drive and drive until I get mad at myself for burning gas.

The war between Ellie and I had ended but it didn't register in my head, I almost fell in love with it. Without the constant arguing and passive aggressiveness, there was nothing to put a wall between us and I wasn't ready to be vulnerable again.

So I begin to feed Ellie the ugliest parts of me; I show her everything I'm sure she will hate but she doesn't, she's patient and shows me the kindness I have been looking everywhere for. Still, I am cold to her, I don't know what else to do.

I try to push her away all over again but this time, she doesn't let me. Ellie comes into my room when I'm studying to sit on my bed so that she can be in proximity to me. Sometimes she'll ask me if I want to go for a walk or a late-night gas station run, all of the things we used to do.

When I'm angry at her, she lets it happen, she won't escalate the fight all she does is apologize and does what she can to fix it. Everything feels like it's in order again, Joel even starts to send me little text messages to check in on me and sends me Facebook memes that make him think of me.

As of now, we are setting up for Dina's twenty-first birthday. The living room, typically a space for casual gatherings and movie nights, had undergone a transformation. Vibrant streamers adorned the walls, and an array of balloons in assorted hues scattered themselves along the floor "Are balloons too childish?" Abby asks as she walks out of her bedroom.

"They better not be after I just spent half an hour doing all of these," Cat answers, giving her a scornful glare.

"They look great, Cat," I smile and give her a thumbs-up from where I am in the kitchen dumping bags of chips into bowls. "Should I make a veggie platter?"

Cat furrows her eyebrows "If you can finish it by yourself, sure."

"Cat, we aren't children, adults eat vegetables," Abby takes a seat on the couch behind Cat, investigating the hard work she's put into making the living room look nice for just one night "Isn't it weird that Dina is organizing her own surprise party?"

I shrug, placing a wooden cutting board down on the kitchen counter "I don't blame her, I don't think we've always been one hundred percent reliable, me specifically."

"But it's not a surprise if she knows about it."

"So?" Cat asks.

"So why are we calling it a surprise party if it isn't a surprise?"

"Why not?"

"Well, why can't we just call it a party?"

"I don't think it matters," I cut in, I begin to peel carrots and slice them up into quarters. Ellie comes out of her bedroom, she took a nap after completing her physics presentation, her hair in a messy bun, and she's in her typical pyjama uniform of sweats and a hoodie. "Hey, Ellie," I smile at her.

She rubs some sleep away from her green eyes "Hey," Ellie walks over to the kitchen island where I slice and chop vegetables and sits right in front of me. Even half asleep she looks like a statue of marble carved by a skilled hand.

Abby raises an eyebrow, asking 'When did you guys become friends?' without saying it and then it hits me like the plane in Lost. Ellie still hasn't told anyone about our history, our sixteen years of friendship is invisible to the eyes of those who think they know us well.

I'm broken from my thoughts when Abby speaks up "When are you picking up the cake?"

My heart drops "I'm not?"

Cat and Abby cast one another side glances while Ellie snatches a cucumber off my cutting board "Dina was handing out duties and you said you would take care of the cake."

I freeze, unsure of what to say "Nuh-uh." I shake my head like a child denying blame for breaking her mother's favourite dish.

"Yuh-huh," Cat shoots back. "How could you forget that?"

My mind fumbles for an excuse and somehow I land on "I forgot because I went temporarily insane from Lyme disease," What am I saying? "I got Lyme disease because I go camping in secret," I don't camp "And I never told you guys that I go camping because I'm deeply ashamed of it."

Now everyone looks perpetually confused, Ellie included "What are you talking about?" Abby asks, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Okay-well," I place my knife flat on the counter by the wooden cutting board, ignoring the odd spiel I just went on "I'm going to drive to-

"You dropped your car off for a suspension repair yesterday," Abby reminds me.

"Ellie is going to drive me to get a cake," I correct myself "I will be back to finish making my veggie plate." I quickly rinse my hands before grabbing Ellie's keys from the little jewelry dish on the island and yank the sleeve of her hoodie to pull her along.

Ellie doesn't say anything, she slips into some Crocs and we walk outside to her car. "Where are we headed?"

"Uh, hang on," In Ellie's passenger seat, I go on Google Maps to look up the closest bakeries that are still open at this hour, there are two, one a couple of streets away and the other one is across town and closing in twenty minutes. "Infectious Confections," I wrinkle my nose "That's a weird fucking name."

While Ellie tries to make conversation in the car I only speak when giving her directions to the bakery. She knows something is up and I can tell by the way she keeps glancing at me. I just can't manage to get it out of my head that she's still keeping me a secret.

She pulls up to the bakery and I get out before she even turns her car off, she pulls the keys out of the ignition and trails behind me through the doors.

The bakery itself was rustic and clean, there were two display cases and tills one of the displays held danishes, croissants, cookies, scones and whatever those little swirly flakey things are called. The other display had a big chalk menu above it that read 'Cakery' Though what was in the display case was very sparse.

"Hi," I walk up to the till, putting on the friendly smile and customer service voice that I usually only use at work. "This is pretty short notice but I was wondering if you had any cakes left or if I could get one made for today?"

The guy behind the counter is a scrawny teenager who looks like he has had a long enough day of dealing with annoying customers "We close in half an hour, there's not enough time to bake and decorate a cake." He explains it like he's said this to a million people, he's bored of the same phrases that his manager has scripted out for him.

"Any shot that someone didn't pick up their cake?" I ask, fingers crossed in the hope that he says yes.

"Let me talk to my manager," His voice drags on, and he turns around and disappears through a commercial kitchen door. I wait patiently, hands balled together in front of me as I rock back and forth on my heels. A minute or two later he comes back holding a bright blue cake with pink detailing of bows and mustaches, there's text on it that reads 'It's a...' gender reveal cake. "This is all we have left, they cancelled last minute.

I look back at Ellie to get her opinion, her eyebrows are furrowed slightly "Maybe we good just get some of those cupcakes and smush them together and smear the icing so it looks like a cake."

I wave her off "I'll buy it," I say this only because it is 5:41 and with each passing minute I am growing desperate, also I don't want Jesse to be disappointed that I fumbled the cake and ruined his girlfriend's birthday.

Angsty teenager puts the bright blue monstrosity into a cake box and charges me an absurd total for it, I bitterly tap my card on the machine.

As I walk back out to Ellie's car I take a brief moment to look at the sky, it's the same hue as cotton candy and looks as if it had been projected from a watercolour painting, even after I get back into the car and Ellie begins to blast her old dad rock songs, I can't tear my eyes away from it.

After five minutes of silence from my end, Ellie finally asks the question that's been burning into the forefront of her brain "Why are you being weird?"

"Why haven't you told anyone that we met before we moved in together?"

Her dark eyebrows furrow "You haven't told anyone either-

"Yes, I have."

"Who?"

"Yara, Stacy, Kayla, Mitch, Nigel, Carmen, literally everyone from my work," I admit "I just haven't told people who know you personally so it can't make its way back to you because you clearly don't want people to know."

She falls silent, searching her mind for the right words. She clutches the steering wheel tight and looks dead ahead at the car's bumper-to-bumper ahead of us. "I just know how to slip it into conversation."

"I don't think it's that hard, you can just say that we were friends, you don't need to give an intricate play-by-play of everything that happened."

"Why is it important that people know if we're cool again?"

I turn my head to slowly look at her "You are the one who always said 'If we don't have honesty, we have nothing at all'," I point out.

Silence strings between us again, I almost want to throw up.

'We're cool again' Nope, not anymore, we are so very far from cool. Instead of Ellie casting me little glances as she had on the ride there, she ignores my presence almost completely while I glare daggers at her. Was she embarrassed by me? When we went to lunch together why did she lie to Dina about where she was? When she slept in my bed why did Cat ask me if I knew why Ellie came home at eight AM with nothing, not even a key? Did she crawl through my bedroom window to walk around to the front door and pretend she was just getting home?

AND WHY DIDN'T I CALL HER OUT?

She was keeping me a secret and that realization hurt worse than any injury I had ever suffered. She hasn't even told her dead who practically raised me that we lived together.

God, we weren't even anything and she was keeping me under wraps like I was some disgraceful secret that she would get shamed for holding. The very second she approached our house, I got out of her car, she hadn't even stopped it completely but cake in hand, I hopped out of her car door and didn't look back.

I think I've had my fair share of partying.

After that month-long bender I had where I went to clubs every night and replaced food with vodka, I never wanted to even look at another solo cup full of liquor. Instead of drinking, smoking, or doing karaoke, I hide from Ellie.

I hide from her in conversations and sometimes sneak into my bedroom just to get a bit of breathing room from all of the strangers in my house. Wherever Ellie was, I was not. If she was outside, I was inside, if she was in the living room, I was in the kitchen enjoying my veggie platter.

Have you ever been the only sober person around in a group of people? If the answer is no, have you ever babysat a houseful of toddlers? Because it's just about the same thing.

When I'm not hiding from the girl who wriggled her way back into my good graces just to trip herself off the podium, I'm cleaning up, protecting our furniture, holding back hair as girls I've never met sob into the toilet, and stopping the drunk from doing stupid things.

"Hey, buddy," I take my can of hairspray that this frat-adjacent man is holding behind an ignited lighter "I don't think you would look good as a burn victim," His friends moan in disappointment as I do so, they were very excited to see a makeshift flamethrower; I wasn't in the mood to have my house burn down, or have a guy with peach fuzz waste my thirty dollar hair spray.

Thirty dollars?

Note to self for later: Make smarter spending choices (And smarter relationship choices!).

I felt a tap on my shoulder only to turn around and see Dina, she wasn't drunk, just tipsy "Smile!" She holds up a camera to her eye and clicks the shudder button before I even have a chance to react the flash goes off. A large Polaroid begins to print out, Dina snatches it and shakes it until you can see my silhouette, my eyes are wide, my hair flying behind me from the quick turn of my head and I'm holding a can of hairspray angled to look like I'm going to spray the camera with it "Cute!" She smiles, tucking it into her pocket for later "Wait, I want a group picture of the roommates."

Dina takes my hand and pulls me to one of the couches where Ellie and Abby sit with some guy, she shoes him to get up and drags Cat over to replace him, she stands me in between Ellie and Abby and lightly pushes me down to sit wedged between the two.

"Jesse, please do not do me dirty with this picture," She hands the pink Polaroid camera to her boyfriend and quickly ushers herself to the far left of the couch where she bends over to kiss Cat on the cheek for the picture. Ellie and I are stiff and awkward when the flash goes off.

After the picture is taken, Ellue turns to face me just the slightest "Hey, I think we should talk-

"I think it's time for cake!" I push myself off the couch and usher myself to the kitchen.

I pull the cake out of the fridge, looking at what I had done to salvage it; Below the part that said 'It's a...' I wrote '21 year old!' in chocolate pre-made Betty Crocker icing that I had in the fridge for months, it didn't look the best, but it could've been worse.

Dina, of course, cackles when she sees it. To her, it is the funniest thing she's seen all night. I stick the candles in and light it with the light I confiscated from peach fuzz frat boy and push the cake towards Dina after tucking the light back into my pocket, she is illuminated in the glow of iPhone flash all filming her.

"Make a wish!"

Age Sixteen- Grade 11

I think back to how embarrassing it felt to be thoughtful.

How fragile I felt when I would share my feelings and how frail I seem when I do it now. Ellie was always tougher than I was, in rugby, in fights, just in general. That's why I figured she would be taking it better than me when I cut contact, once again I have been proven wrong.

"Conner, can we please just leave?" I pleaded with my then-boyfriend. The night had started fine but after a couple of drinks Ellie and I were becoming increasingly hostile to one another, it wasn't my intention to speak to her but the universe forced my hand when we were shoved into a circle of our friends and made to converse around the bonfire at the beach.

The salty breeze carried the sounds of laughter and the gentle crashing of waves, the scent of roasted marshmallows wafted through the air.

"What, you need your boyfriend's permission or something?" Ellie held a can of berry blast Smirnoff, staring into my soul from the other side of the fire, the sparks glitter through the night like fireflies. Her words don't feel too bad but they don't feel too good either.

I cast her a glare before I looked back to my boyfriend "Please?"

He is getting perpetually annoyed with me he shrugs away from my grasp, "Fuck off, we just got here," He mutters, Conner must think I couldn't hear it. He had already downed three Bud lights and a couple of shots of cheap vodka, now he is nursing another beer in hand.

"Excuse me?" I say, narrowing my eyes. Everyone around the fire pauses their conversation to tune into mine. "Come on," I stand up and try to pull him along so we can have a conversation away from the prying eyes of our friends.

I can't pull the mass of the 6'2 quarterback along with me but he obliges and follows me where I yank him. As I drag him along the rest of the group giggle and makes jokes along the lines of 'Trouble in paradise' but Ellie is the only one who doesn't jump back into mindless conversation, her unnerving eyes are still on me while I chew my boyfriend out by the shoreline.

"Why do I have to leave just because you're feeling a little bummed out?"

I'm almost floored at out someone can lack so much empathy "Because you're my boyfriend?" I can feel myself tensing up.

"Why does that mean you can't get up and leave on your own?" He defends "You begged me to come here and now I just wanna down a couple of beers and hang out with my friends."

"You've already drank like twenty!" I retort.

"It's a fucking party!" Conner says, raising his voice "It's a party and it's summer and you're seriously trying to tell me not to have fun?"

"Fuck!" I shout in frustration "Why don't you ever call me? Why can't you ever let me in?" The argument is quickly escalating "Why didn't you tell me that you kissed Tamar and why haven't you told me that you love me?"

"Because I don't."

My words fail me. I knew he didn't, I knew that he hardly even liked me. My dad had thought so highly of him, she said he was the type of guy to rescue a baby from a burning building but as I look at him now, I figure that he eats babies.

I almost open my mouth to say something different, almost, but I don't. The rest of my life might have turned out differently if I didn't, I might've been able to salvage the rotting corpse of my relationship with Ellie but I didn't. "Fine," I say, voice calm and quiet "Let's stay."

Before that night I had never really gotten drunk but the second I got back to the bonfire, I was digging through the cooler and shotgunning canned Smirnoff. "Woah," Riley laughs "Someone's finally being a bad influence."

I got myself so shit-faced that when everyone else got up to dance to the music blaring through the Bluetooth speaker, I sat by myself at the shoreline, looking bitterly out towards to ocean while the tides crash at my feet and get sucked back into the ocean. For a moment I think about jumping in and letting my lax body get washed away and sink beneath the surface until I wash up as a water-bloated corpse that some nine-year-old will find when they're beach combing.

My mouth tastes like peroxide and blood, my lungs burn with a red-hot pain. The wind is becoming increasingly harsh and I ignore the hair that is tangled into my golden hoop earrings.

"Wow, you look awful," I don't need to turn around to know who it is.

"Can you just fuck off?" I say "I don't give a shit about you, just leave me alone."

She always had to antagonize me, Ellie went out of her way to stray from the group and bother me. It had something to do with the alcohol in her system. Despite her alleged hatred for me, she takes a seat next to me regardless.

"Fuck, you're so sensitive," She scoffs "I don't know why you're dating him, I'm not even sure why you'd want to fuck him unless you're too lazy to jerk off-

My hands think before my head and I deck Ellie right in the side of her face, getting a solid hit to her cheekbone. My hand flies over my mouth "I'm sorry, I-

Ellie doesn't waste any time in lunging back at me, she pushes me down by my shoulders until my back is in the shallow of the water that moments ago just splashed at my feet and takes a swing. The impact of her punch almost knocks me sober.

I take a sharp inhale, grabbing her elbows and pulling her down to where she was the one on her back and I was the one straddling her. I land one last blow to her nose, I hear a crunch and the panic immediately sends me scrambling to my feet. My eyes go wide at the blood dripping down, her face I turn to run but Ellie is faster, she grabs me by my hair and yanks me down further into the water with her.

"Fucking cunt!" I cry, though my scream is drowned out by the overwhelmingly loud tides crashing on the shore "Get the fuck off me!"

Ellie is better at fighting than I am, I had never been on this side of her before, usually, I had been the one to drag her away from fights but now I am the one who is going to stumble home numb from the devastating pain.

Frankly, I'm fucking scared.

She continues to drag me by my hair until I'm knee-deep in the water with her, she almost throws her entire weight into me, dunking me beneath the surface where her bony hands snake around my neck. My eyes have gone blurry with the salt water, they sting and burn. I can't see anything, all I can do is uselessly thrash beneath her. My hands push against her face, trying to pry her off my body.

Eventually, I manage to claw her face with my fingernails, I dig deep enough that it breaks skin and she recoils just enough for me to knee her in the stomach and let me get out from under her. Just as I try to slip away she reaches for my hair again, but instead of tugging on my hair, she rips out my gold hoop earring. I screech out in agony, hand reaching for where the metal sliced through the lobe of my ear, I shudder in pain; my cries are now jagged and harsh.

This is the exact moment Ellie begins to regret what she's done. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to." Her tone softens and she tries to approach me but I back away from her like a frightened dog.

"Get away from me!" Despite the pain surging in my body, I find the strength in me to hit her again, she staggers back tripping into the water. I hit her so hard that I feel a crack in my knuckle and I yelp out in the immediate shock of pain.

I wasn't sure when the others had noticed this was happening probably because my vision had gone blurry from salt water and adrenaline but before Ellie could hit me again, she was being restrained by Riley and Kennedy while some guy who I had probably had two conversations with dragged my back to shore.

I keel over on my hands and knees and begin to start retching onto the sand. Laila rubs a gentle hand on my back, my hair sticking wet on my forehead. A seagull, disturbed by the commotion, took flight, its wings cutting through the charged air.

Next to the pile of vomit I just heaved, blood drips down from my ear, pooling and then soaking into the sand. My neck swells from what is still the raw sensation of Ellie closing her hands around it.

I look up at Ellie, there is blood that has dripped its way into her mouth, clinging to her white teeth. She has what almost looks like a cat scratch running down her cheek, blood begins to prick and spill from the lacerations.

She stares back at me and we don't say a word but we understand each other clearly, I never want to see you again.

"Let's go," Ellie grabs my arm as Dina begins to slice the cake "We're gonna fix this right now."

"Ellie, there are so many people here," I say in a hushed tone so people can't hear me.

"I don't mean here," She looks at me, face expressionless "Just get in my car."

"Excuse me?" I say, tone accusing "Did you just order me to get in your car?"

"Fuck," She sighs, dropping my wrist to rub her hands down her face "Please can you get in my car so we can work this through."

"There's nothing to work through," I retort "You're embarrassed by me or you still secretly hate me and that's fine, I meant what I said on winter break about the lease, the second it's up, I'm getting the fuck out of here."

"What? No, don't- just," She takes a breath, reevaluating what to say "I have a point to make but I can't make it unless you get in my car."

We stare at each other for a moment, I narrow my eyes and she is still unmoving. Every scenario runs through my head of what could be waiting for me in that car.

"Fine."

I sit silently in her passenger seat, my knees are pulled into my chest and I rest my chin on them. Ellie doesn't say anything either as she drives. I watch each traffic light pass me, every street name to try and make sense of where we are going.

I almost feel like I'm going to suffocate beneath the silence of everything going left unsaid.

When I spot the boardwalk up ahead, I know exactly where she's taking me "Ellie, why are we at the beach?" I give her a side glance "Do I need to take out my earrings?"

Heat rises to her cheeks when I say this, "Not yet," She jokes, getting out of her car and grabbing a tote bag from the back seat, and I follow in tow.

We walk past the boardwalk and onto the sandy beach, I'm already not feeling whatever she's doing; there is sand filling up my Converse and a slight wind chill, I'm really wishing I had a hoodie right now. "Can you tell me what we're doing yet?" I'm hugging myself in an attempt to stay warm "If we're still walking on the beach why couldn't we have just walked on the boardwalk instead? It literally has walk in the name." I'm already going off on one of my tangents.

She still walking ahead of me but she briefly turns around to face me "Can you just stop asking questions for a minute?"

"Okay, whatever," I mutter, trailing behind her still. I can hardly see in the night, the only light to guide us is the moon and the warm ceiling lamps from restaurants along the boardwalk. I can vaguely see Ellie's silhouette, she's outlined by the gentle glow radiating off the moon, I try my best not to stumble over things poking out of the sand that have been lost to sight by darkness.

"Okay," Ellie stops, "Here we are."

"Where are we?" I ask "I can't see shit, I don't know where here is."

Ellie digs around in her pocket for her phone and turns on a flashlight and it reveals a small iron firepit that was cemented into a slab of concrete in the sand. She hands me her phone so I can keep the flash on her and she can see what she's doing.

She pulls out some pages ripped out from her notebook "Can you hand me your lighter?"

My eyebrows furrowed, and I felt around in my pocket wondering if I even had one. I did, it had slipped my mind that I still had the bic lighter that I confiscated from Peach Fuzz. I hand the lighter to her and watch as she tucks the pages beneath logs that were in the firepit before we arrive, they are somewhat charred but still viable.

She flicks the lighter to ignite it and the paper catches immediately. The initial flicker grew into a tentative blaze, licking at the edges of the kindling. The crackling sound echoed through the night.

Once she is sure the fire can survive without her feeding it, she steps away. "Alright, let's have it out."

"Like sex?" I scrunch up my nose.

"Oh my god, no, like let's talk this through." She pinches her nose bridge, taking a breath in before exhaling and putting her hand back down "We're gonna recreate the night of the bonfire how it should've been," Ellie reached back into her bag and pulled out two white claws "I snagged these from Dina's party, sorry this was kind of last minute."

I can't help the smile that grows on my face, I take one of the white claws and crack it open "I don't know how authentic this is gonna be if there isn't any canned Smirnoff."

I think back to exactly how that night played out and I take a seat on the sand, facing the crashing dark ocean. I sip my white claw, as expected Ellie takes a seat next to me, just what happened on the actual night.

"Wow," She says "You look really pretty and I'm an idiot for ever saying you looked awful," Ellie looks gorgeous illuminated by the orange light of the fire, and the breeze causes her flyaway hairs to drift in the wind. "I'm an asshole for pretending that I didn't know you, I was scared I would get hurt again and take it to heart like I did last time. I promise the second we get home that I'll come clean."

I don't know if I can deal with this sugary philosophy. She's being so sweet that it's rotting my teeth.

"Ellie," I say gathering my thoughts, it was so hard being honest with my feelings, it felt like I would get hospitalized if I showed any emotion. "I was so in love with you in high school that it killed me, and I was terrified that my parents would throw me out well, they did- but that's why I pushed you away and there isn't a day that goes by where I don't regret it."

The surprise on her face morphs into a soft smile "What about now?" she asks "Do you still love me?"

I shrug, it's honest "I dunno, but I think there's room to try."

She looks from me to the ocean and the way the moonlight glitters off the surface "What happened next?" Ellie toys with the tab of her drink "Did you hit me?"

"Yeah," I say softly, following her gaze out to the waters "But if we're doing the night how it should've been, I'd rather just kiss you."

Ellie turns her head back to look at me. She shoves her white claw into the sand then takes my face into one of her hands and kisses me like it's her job, so tender and carefully like she's afraid I will break beneath pressure.

How weak have I become? My heart is so full of her that I can hardly call it my own.

A/N: Be grateful for this ending because I was very tempted to give you guys an unhappy one. Sorry that I forgot to post this lol, I’m sad this series is over but excited to show you all my next one which may be the angst-iest yet 👀

Thanks for reading!

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canirove · 3 months

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My neighbour Rúben | Chapter 1

Summary: Have you ever watched this movie Scarlett Johansson and Chris Evans did before Marvel called “The Nanny Diaries”? It's about a girl, Scarlett's character, who finds herself working as a nanny for a very rich family, and Chris happens to be her hot and very cute neighbour. And something very similar is what has happened to me, neighbour included. Though in my case, mine is very cute and very hot. And handsome. The most handsome man I have ever seen. And his name is Rúben.

Author's note: This story has been finished and waiting in my drafts since 2022. I wrote it as a new and different version of "The Nanny Diaries" (my story with Ben Chilwell) because I didn't like it, and then I ended not liking this one either 🙈 But time passed, I read it again recently, thought it was cute… And here we are, having now both of them posted when they weren't supposed to 😅 I hope you like it, and as always, thank you for reading! 💜

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Masterlist

Have you ever watched this movie Scarlett Johansson and Chris Evans did before Marvel called “The Nanny Diaries”? It's about a girl, Scarlett's character, who finds herself working as a nanny for a very rich family with a spoiled kid and Chris is her hot and very cute neighbour. And something very similar is what has happened to me, but let's start from the beginning.

My entire life was designed to achieve one goal: become the best piano player in the country. Or in the continent if my father got too excited. And since I can remember, I've been glued to one.

While my friends were going out to the park, I was going to my teacher's house to practice. While my friends were meeting to go shopping or watch a movie at the cinema, I was practicing. While my friends were going out clubbing and meeting boys and girls, I was going early to bed because I had practice in the morning. And while my friends were choosing a career path they liked and enjoyed and moving to different cities all around the country, I only had one option: playing the piano and moving to Manchester, where the best teacher lived.

The weather sucks, yes. But it isn't such an ugly city as they say, and all the people I met were lovely and very welcoming. Unless you are fighting with them for a spot on the next recital or to get the next scholarship. That's when things get nasty, and that's how you end up with broken fingers and the dreams your parents had for you shattered. Because becoming the best piano player of my generation wasn't my dream, it was theirs. Or my father’s to be precise.

So when Anastasia Hamilton pushed me down the stairs and I found myself with two broken fingers on my left hand, a sprained ankle and my body covered in bruises, I didn't complain. Well, that's a lie. I complained and cried because it hurt like hell. But I didn't complain when they told me I wouldn't be able to play the piano like I used to due to one of my fingers not healing properly despite being treated by the best doctors. I didn't complain because I was finally free. If I wanted to play, I would be doing it because I wanted to, not because it was my job, because I had to, because my future depended on it. Now I was free to finally follow my dreams and not my parents’. Or that's what I thought.

I told them I wanted to take a gap year to figure out what to do with my life, but they said no. They had decided that I should study to become a music teacher, to help others achieve what I hadn't been able to. We argued, they said that if I wanted to do anything different it would not be with their money, I said ok, and I found myself alone in Manchester with barely any money or a place to live.

And that's when I crossed paths with Julia.

I had gone to the shopping centre to see if anyone was looking for a waitress or someone to fold t-shirts in a shop, when I saw her crying in the middle of one of the corridors, most people walking past her and ignoring her.

"Hey, are you ok?" I said, kneeling in front of her. "Where are your parents?"

"Quiero a mi mamá" she sobbed. That was why people were ignoring her. She only spoke Spanish and they didn't understand her. But, lucky me, I used to go to the north of Spain for music summer camp and I can speak it fluently.

"¿Dónde está tu mamá?" Where is your mum?

"No lo sé. Estaba comprando una taza fea y..." Her mum was buying an ugly mug. I couldn't help but laugh at that.

"Ok, let’s go find her.” Where we were most shops only sold clothes, but I remembered I had just walked past a Zara Home. Maybe she was there? "Come" I said, grabbing her hand. She didn't say a word and just followed me, her sobs turning into hiccups.

"Julia!" a woman screamed the moment we turned the corner. "Oh, Julia, I thought I had lost you!"

"Mami!" the kid said, letting go of my hand and throwing herself at the woman. "Me perdí y esta chica me ayudó."

"Did you help her?" the woman asked me.

"I saw her crying and that people were ignoring her, and I decided to check on her. She was speaking Spanish and I think that's why most people were walking past her, because they weren't able to understand her."

"Oh, she always does that when she gets upset. Do you speak Spanish?"

"Yup."

"Oh, you are an angel" the woman said, hugging her daughter a bit tighter. "I don't know how I'm gonna be able to thank you."

"Knowing that she's alright is enough, don’t worry."

"No, no, no. You must allow me to do something for you. What do you say, Julia. Should we invite this wonderful angel to have lunch with us?"

"Yes!" Julia said, her English coming back. "We'll bake you a chocolate cake! Do you like chocolate cake?"

"I actually do, yes" I smiled.

"Then it's settled. Let me give you my card, it has my office phone number on it" Julia's mum said, opening her bag. "Call tomorrow morning and we'll schedule that lunch together."

"Ok. Thank you."

"Thank you" the woman said, giving me a hug. "My name us Lucía, by the way. But you can call me Lucy like everyone in this country does."

"Nice to meet you, Lucy."

Lucía, Lucy. A Spanish lawyer specialized in divorces, and the divorces of very wealthy people. Which meant that when I arrived at her house for that lunch date, I found myself before one of the most expensive apartment buildings in the city.

"Are you coming in, miss?" the doorman asked.

"Yes, hi, sorry. Do I have to tell you where I'm going or..."

"You don't look like a thief" the man chuckled.

"I'm not, I promise. I'm meeting with Lucy and Julia."

"Oh, yes. Miss Julia said a friend was coming for lunch today. An angel."

"That must be me" I said, blushing a bit.

"Then welcome, miss" the man said, opening the building's door. "Do you know their floor number?"

"Yes, the 7th. Letter B."

"That’s the one. Call for the lift and push the number, their house will be the one to your right."

"Thank you very much, sir."

"My pleasure, miss" the man said with a smile. Roger. The loveliest man you'll ever meet.

"So glad you could make it" Lucy said after opening the door, giving me a hug.

"Angel!" Julia screamed, coming to also hug me. "You came!"

"Of course I did."

"She’s decided to start calling you angel because of what I said at the shopping centre. I hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry" I smiled.

“Come, let me show you my room" Julia said, grabbing my hand and forcing me to follow her.

After a tour around the house and its many rooms, we were back in the living room, one where the small flat I was renting thanks to some money my grandparents had been sending me without my parents knowing, could perfectly fit.

"Is that a real piano?" I asked Julia.

"It's daddy's" she said. "We used to play together."

"That's lovely." My dad never played with me just for fun. It always was about practice, practice... And oh, yes, more practice.

"Do you play?" Lucy asked me.

"Since I was Julia's age."

"Oh, that's wonderful! Why don't you play something for us while we wait for our food?"

"Sure" I said, sitting in front of the huge black piano. It was a very expensive one like everything else on that building.

"Daddy used to play that!" Julia said when she recognized the song. "Hey Jude, don't make it bad... Mami, why are you crying?" she asked her when we finished.

"Because it was beautiful, sweetheart. And you play so well" Lucy told me. "Have you ever thought about giving lessons?"

"Not really..."

"Julia started to take them a few months ago, but her teacher... Had other things to do, so now she doesn't have one. Would you like to take her place?"

"Me?"

"Yes, angel! Be my teacher!" Julia said, clapping her hands and jumping.

That was what my parents had wanted me to do. To become a teacher. I wasn't going to be doing it at the music school, but this still was teaching, right? And I liked Lucy and Julia a lot despite only knowing them for just a few hours.

"I'll do it" I said. "I'll be Julia's teacher."

"Oh, perfect!" Lucy smiled. "When can you start?"

"Whenever you want. I have nothing else to do" I shrugged.

"Then tomorrow. I have to work, so maybe you could pick up Julia from school, bring her here and start your lessons? I'll pay you for that extra time."

"Ok" I nodded.

I had found a job, one that I liked, and one that was going to pay me handsomely judging by the numbers Lucy had mentioned while doing a draft of my contract.

I was so busy thinking about all that, checking the details she had given me about Julia's school, that I hadn’t noticed the lift had made it to the lobby and the doors were open.

“Are you going up again?” a male voice said.

“Uh?” I replied, lifting my eyes from my phone. And what did they see? The most handsome man you could ever imagine.

“Are you going up again?” he repeated.

“I…” I had forgotten how to speak. I may have not been wearing an ugly costume like Scarlett in one of the scenes where she met Chris Evans, but I had my jaw on the floor and definitely was making a fool of myself. “No” I finally managed to say.

“So… are you leaving, then?” he asked, trying to hide a smile.

“Yes” I said, still looking at him. Was he real? He was real. When he stopped the lift’s door from closing again, taking a step forward towards me, I saw that he was very real. “Thank you. Sorry. I’m leaving” I blurted out, my brain finally remembering how speaking worked. Kind of.

“It’s ok” he replied with a smile. No, not a smile. A smirk. One that made everything inside me turn upside down. “Bye” he said, walking inside the lift and letting go of the doors, disappearing behind them while I just stared. He must have thought I was stupid. A creep. Or both. But what else are you supposed to do when you find yourself face to face with the hottest man in planet earth?

“Miss, are you alright?” I heard Roger say from the door.

“Yes, yes. Just… Processing what just happened. That I got a job, I mean” I quickly added, noticing how he was arching an eyebrow, his eyes moving to the lift.

“Oh, those are great news, miss. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. I guess you’ll be seeing more of me from now on.”

And hopefully, I would be seeing more of him too. Of the hot neighbour, my own Chris Evans. Though later on I would find out that his name wasn’t Chris, that would have been too much of a coincidence.

His name was Rúben.

#ruben dias #ruben dias fanfic #ruben dias imagine #football fanfic #football imagine

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aku-babe · 2 years

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“the agency’s new assistant”

ranpo x fem!reader smut , -16 dni !

this was actually my first post here but i felt too shy so i kept it in my drafts 🧍‍♀️ but it's actually my favourite one so far!! ranpo is just so,,, 😩🤌 hope u enjoy <3

you had been working at the agency as an assistant for a while now, which meant you should be pretty close to everyone there, right?

wrong.

well, you were close to almost everyone, just not him. you had been avoiding him ever since you first set eyes on his ridiculously hot figure.

the detective who could read your thoughts from just two seconds of a glance; you had heard all about him and it terrified you, because absolutely none of the thoughts you had about him were appropriate.

he was unlike anyone you had ever seen before, and if you're being honest, he made you soaking wet from just his voice. he was the hottest man you'd ever laid your eyes on and you were quite embarrassed to admit you had formed a crush on him. with blushed cheeks and weak knees, you knew talking to him in this state would be the same as throwing yourself all over him.

so for both his and your own sake, you avoided him as much as possible. but of course, this didn't go unnoticed by him.

he tried many chances to get you near him, but it always ended in you finding excuses and running away with a red face.

but not today. he was determined on having you today, all for himself.

as you walked in for work, you immediately noticed how silent it was. glancing around the empty office, you nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard a voice behind you.

"they're all gone for an emergency mission," ranpo said as he lightly grabbed your waist to move you from the doorway.

"oh, i see.." you internally squealed as his arm stayed on your hip for far longer than necessary.

"looks like you're all mine for today then," ranpo flashes you a grin.

shit, this was exactly what you dreaded. but looks like there's no escaping it now, so you straightened your back and tried to act professional instead. "yes sir, what would you like me to assist with?

"sir?" ranpo stopped eating his sweets to glance at you. "while that does sound quite nice, you can just call me ranpo."

"o-of course, uhm, ranpo," you fiddled with your skirt nervously which immediately caught his eye.

"no need to be so nervous. i've been watching you for some time now."

"you have?"

"of course, who wouldnt be interested in a cute little thing like you?"

your cheeks were painted crimson by now and you quickly turned away from him. "i'm not sure what you mean"

you yelped as he grabbed your wrist to turn you back around and made you look at him. "don't look away from me, that's rude don't you think? his hand slipped down to rest at your hips once more, pulling you closer.

"this is extremely unprofessional, sir-" you gasped while trying not to blush.

"is it? he furrowed his eyebrows. "what i think is unprofessional is how you keep avoiding me. you're meant to assist everyone in the agency, how unprofessional of you to not uphold your job. do you dislike me?"

"no, of course not!"

"then tell me why you refuse to even talk to me hmm?" he laughed softly as you opened and closed your mouth again, unsure of how to reply.

"you're so cute, you know that?" his hands traveled down to your skirt, slipping under it. "of course i already know why you avoid me. can't hide anything from the world's best detective now, can we?"

you hid your flushed face in his chest out of embarrassment. of course he knew. all this time, he knew, and now he was teasing you for it.

"looks like i was right once again," you jump as he suddenly presses a finger against your underwear. "you're wet. is it because of me?"

you mumbled incoherently against him, making him click his tongue. he quickly pushes you up from his chest, cupping your face to make you look in his twinkling eyes.

"cmon now, don't let me do all the detective work. lets get a confession, yeah?"

you looked away from him in shame, ears turning pink.

"there's no need to be shy," ranpo tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "i'll let you in on a secret."

leaning down in your ear, he whispered, "i always think of you too. whenever i see you walk past in that cute little skirt of yours, i can barely resist myself from grabbing you and bending you over my desk right then and there."

your heart felt like it was gonna explode. this was too much, too fast-

but he was just getting started. leaning further down, he pressed his lips against your neck, softly sucking on your skin. you let out a whimper as he dragged his teeth across, before gently biting.

"don't keep me waiting," he pulled away after creating a hickey.

accepting defeat and pushing away your embarassment, you gave in. "i didn't avoid you because i dislike you... i avoided you because each time i talk to you, um, my heart gets all warm and tingly.."

"oh yeah?" he smirked and prodded a finger down there again. "and here?"

"uh, i get wet.."

"evident," he runs his fingers across you to prove his point.

"wh-what now?" you look at him shyly.

he smiles. "i finally have you to myself. only a fool would waste that opportunity."

grabbing you suddenly, he turned you around and pushed you over his desk. he stood behind you, eyeing your ass that was barely covered by the short skirt you wore.

"i like skirts," he commented. "wear them more often."

"okay.." was all you could mumble while you hid your face in your hands, anticipating his next move.

you felt his large hands rest on your skirt, pushing the fabric up and bunching it up around your waist. you flinched suddenly when he landed a sharp slap on your ass. you couldn't hold in your moan when he did it once more, and you could practically hear him smirking as he landed his hand down again and again.

finally satisfied with how red your skin was, he pushed your underwear to the side and bent you more, putting your wetness on full display for his sharp green eyes.

"you have no idea how long i've been waiting for this," he breathed out as he traced your slit and played around with the slickness.

"me too."

all shyness was thrown out the window once he slipped a finger in, and you were immediately begging for more. he moved his finger in and out at a steady pace, while rubbing circles using his thumb. you cried out when you felt him lean in and press his tongue against you, while pushing a second finger in and increasing his pace.

he sloppily sucked and licked at you, while pushing his fingers deeper each thrust.

"i'm close, ranpo-"

"don't," he muttered, pulling away.

"what?' you cried out in disbelief.

"ah im sorry love, but we don't have time for this. the others will be back soon, and i need you to come when i'm inside you."

"what do you- ahh, oh my-"

he had pushed himself inside you before you could even realise, and no words could describe how good it felt.

"are you okay? do you need me to stop?" he gently rubbed your back.

"i'm okay, it feels fucking amazing," you reassured him to move.

grinning, he started out slowly fucking you against the desk. soon enough it changed into him pounding into you at a brutal pace, sounds of skin clapping and desk creaking filling the room.

"you feel so fucking good, ah fuck," he groaned as he threw his head back, before raising one hand to slap your ass.

you moaned loudly as he railed you harder, his grip on your hips getting tighter and would definitely leave bruises. a few more thrusts and you felt his dick twitch inside you, and then he was leaning over to suck your neck desperately as he became sloppier. his hand slipped down to rub you, and you couldn't take it anymore. your legs were shaking as you came down from your high, and you would've fallen over if not for his arms supporting you.

ranpo groaned loudly as he pushed into you one last time, cumming inside and filling you completely with his warmth. he did a few more thrusts to fuck his cum back into you, making sure none of it got out. you cried out from the overstimulation, but he just shushed you and continued licking over the hickeys on your neck.

you heard the ding of the agency front door, and immediately came back to your senses. ranpo also sighed in frustration, and pulled out. he carefully placed your underwear back in place, and pulled your skirt down. offering you his hand to stand, you stumbled to stand straight as your legs were weak and sore. he smiled at you as he quickly fixed your hair and clothes, smoothing them down.

just before the door opened, he quickly pecked you on the lips, surprising you and making you blush. that was your first kiss..

"y/n! there you are!" dazai walked into the room followed by the others. "wait, why are you red?"

"oh um its just hot in here," you mumbled, rubbing your neck.

"it sure is," ranpo cheekily muttered from his desk, sending a subtle wink.

you turned away from both ranpo's smug self and dazai's confused and but seemingly knowing look, and got back to work.

it was a bit hard to focus though, not when your underwear was all sticky and you were throbbing because of a certain someone.

sitting at your desk, you glanced at your skirt which was now a bit crumpled. smiling, you decided to wear skirts more often. and maybe you should talk to ranpo more.

after all, the feeling was mutual..

#ranpo is so hot my god #ranpo edogawa #ranpo x reader #ranpo smut #bsd #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs #anime #ranpo x reader smut

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jackfrombaskinrobbins · 5 months

Text

all fixed up (matt murdock x teen!adopted!reader)

type of writing: headcanons / scenario

word count: 967

request: yes / no

original request: "Matt Murdock patches up a teen reader, and there's just a lot of angst and hurt/comfort. PLEASE LET IT HAVE A HUG AND FOREHEAD KISSES :)) (I'm a sucker for fluff)"

warnings: slight mention of wounds, blood, not too much though i promise!!

dynamic: matt murdock x teen!adopted!reader

characters: reader, matt murdock, quick mention of foggy nelson & wilson fisk

a/n: ILYT!!! also erm hey guys🤓i've been gone for way too long i'm sorry :') but i've had this in my drafts for a whiiiiiiile so i figured it was time to post :0 anyways ya feel free to request i have a bunch to get to but i always like new ones!! esp daredevil oop tee hee

taglist: @nutellani @thecloudedmind @ayohitmanddaeng @fiadh-bell

(fill out this form to be on my taglist!)

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“stop it, y/n. just come here for a minute, alright?”

normally matt’s words would be answered with an exaggerated sigh and an eye roll, but tonight was different. tonight was off, and you knew it, he knew it, and he knew that you knew that he knew it. (ridiculous, but true.) it didn’t help that you had wounds to patch up, sore spots all over your body that wouldn’t be going away any time soon – a constant reminder of your mistake.

and yes, as much as matt would deny it, you had made a mistake. a damn big one at that. you should have known better. no matter how gifted you were at defending yourself, no matter how many times you had practiced, it wasn’t enough. nothing would ever be enough. and yet you had stupidly decided to go against a group of kingpin’s lackies, big huge guys who ate kids like you for breakfast. they didn’t hold back, and they beat you up until you were barely conscious, and that’s when stupid matt came and did his stupid thing and saved your stupid ass from stupid death or some stupid thing like that. and now you were here, in this stupid apartment wishing you had just stayed in and done your stupid homework and watched some stupid tv and just stayed out of things for once.

“i’m going to bed, matt.”

you spoke, too ashamed to face him. but stupid matt always knew, with his stupid heightened senses and the stupid way that he knew you inside and out, ever since he had taken you in a few years before.

“come on y/n. this isn’t something you can sleep off, and you know it.”

and you did know it. so that’s why you sat at the table, a hiss of air escaping you against your will as you lowered yourself down.

“i’ll get the kit from under the sink.”

“matt, really, it’s fine. it’s just little stuff, okay? i’m fi–”

“fine doesn’t smell like blood, y/n. i’m not stupid.”

that earned him an eye roll, which he never saw, but he always knew happened when he said things like that. you watched as he made his way to the sink, opening the cabinet underneath and rummaging around for the first aid bag. A while ago, you had put stickers on it so he could discern it from the other things in there. There were four flower stickers, and one that foggy had given you, with disney princesses that said “together we are strong”.

matt settled into the chair across from you, exhaling softly. the lights of a police car suddenly filled the dark apartment, screeching sirens accompanying it. you reached for the kit, but matt shook his head.

“no, y/n. i’ll do it.”

you opened your mouth, about to protest, but you could tell he wasn’t going to budge. his stubbornness was something you liked, sometimes. it sure helped when you both wanted pizza for dinner and foggy wanted wings. besides, you knew he would be able to patch you up right, with all the experience he got from helping his father. he had always told you that you were just like him, willing to give anything to protect your honor. but what matt never said was that he was just like his father too, and that if anything, you had just gotten those traits from him.

“did they get you in the head at all?” he asked, soaking a cotton pad in hydrogen peroxide and gesturing for you to guide it where your wounds were.

“yeah, a little bit. i tried to block ‘em. they just kept coming matt, i couldn’t do anything!” you grimaced as the pad touched the spot on your shoulder where you had been grazed by something sharp.

“i know, y/n. it’s not your fault.”

“see but that’s the issue. it IS my fault, matt!” you spoke, voice getting slightly strained, throat feeling tight. you squinted your eyes to prevent tears from falling, but it was too late. a few landed on his hand, and you turned away, trying to compose yourself. “there was no reason to go out there. i don’t know why the hell i thought it was a good idea. i was just … mad! mad about the way they’re treating everybody in this place, mad about the way they’re screwing over every person they deal with… mad about how they treat YOU, god damn it!”

a moment of silence as you tried to slow your breathing, and for a minute, you didn’t know how he was going to react. he reached into the kit, feeling around until he grabbed a bandage, unwrapping it. you helped his hand go to where it needed to be placed, and once it was, he sat back. only then did you see the furrow in his brow, the deep frown on his face.

“look, y/n. i need you to listen to me, and really hear me, alright? i’m proud of you.”

“come on matt, that’s –”

“no. i’m proud of you. really, really proud. i just … i just want you to be careful, alright? i worry about you. and for good reason, considering all this.” you could see his face start to crack ever so slightly, a quick break in his voice indicating that he really meant it. you moved your chair back, stood up, and hugged him tight, despite a slight lingering pain in your shoulder. after a little while, he kissed your forehead, then patted you on the back.

“i’d assume it’s pretty late now. how about you get to bed? we’ll figure out if you need to go to school tomorrow, alright?”

“sounds good. thanks matt. love you.”

“love you too, y/n.”

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#mcu headcanons #marvel headcanons #marvel #mcu #daredevil headcanons #nmcu daredevil #matt murdock x teen!adopted!reader #matt murdock x teen!reader #matt murdock headcanons #mae's requests

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asimplearchivist · 7 months

Text

' 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕘𝕒𝕫𝕚𝕟𝕘 '

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐕 𝐨𝐟 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄, 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒��𝐀𝐑𝐊.

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST summary ✴ ⤏ you find optimus musing about the past while surveying earth's celestial sphere. you try not to let your personal feelings impair your ability to comfort him. pairing ✴ tfp!optimus prime/reader | (past) tfp!optimus prime/elita one word count ✴ 9.9k a/n ✴ ⤏ everything happy always happens in the first season, sometimes part of the second season if you’re lucky. this takes place right before the omega keys arc hits full swing but right after optimus receives the message from alpha trion via the star saber. (around/between “legacy” and “alpha; omega”.) it’s the moment of serenity before the storm, you could say. ⤏ I've had this fic gathering dust in my drafts for years bc there should have been three more parts between it and 'yosemite falling,' but I'm updating my docs to word files in preparation to transfer everything off my old pc to a new one (which I haven't had a new pc in nearly fifteen years so I'm anxious as hell bc I don't handle change well but I'm also excited so???) and I figured 'what the hell, I'll go ahead and post it since I've been trying to clean out my drafts anyway. ⤏ the word ‘inamorata’ (italian, I believe) is legitimately perfect for optimus referring to elita one and you can pry that out of my cold, dead hands. t r y m e. (and yes, this also implies that optimus knows latin because he’s a giant n e r d .) ⤏ I also used lots of nods and references towards @ss-shitstorm’s backstory for op and elita in fortuna primigenia because she is optilita god. (the only striking difference is that ‘bee isn’t biologically theirs - they just kind of took him under their wing when he was still fresh off the press.)

Something was off.

You sighed softly and opened your eyes, taking in as much of the darkened hangar as you could before you yawned. The kids were sound asleep, as was the Autobots’ newest recruit (who had somehow managed to curl himself around the haphazard circle of sleeping bags and cots in a rather impressive imitation of a cat), and when you looked over you saw that Ratchet was still tapping studiously away at the main terminal, optics dimmed and distant as he worked. When your eyes adjusted you could see that it wasn’t the Iacon encryptions, but what appeared to be a personnel file. You saw a small picture of Smokescreen on the upper left-hand corner and figured Ratchet was either reading in on Team Prime’s most recent addition or filling out a medical file. Either way, it was way past the medic’s bedtime.

You looked back to the slumbering foursome, taking in how Smokescreen’s doorwings fluttered minutely in time with an occasional ex-vent. You smiled warmly at the sight. The newest recruit hadn’t quite found his place among the Autobot family yet, but with how well he got along with the kids you figured it’d be no time before he wormed his way into the elder soldiers’ hearts. You just hoped he wouldn’t take to Miko too much, because you’d sensed a mischievous streak in him the moment you’d found out he’d managed to convince Jack to pull a Miko.

It’d gotten Optimus the Star Sabre, but...that wasn’t the point.

The girl had wanted to hit off Smokescreen’s arrival with a bang, in the only way she thought suitable for someone who knew nothing about Earth - introducing him to slumber parties. He’d been all for the idea, jumping headfirst into the activities it entailed despite him not knowing a single thing that was going on. He’d loved the movies you four had picked out, and had picked up on the concepts and plots surprisingly quickly.

Ratchet hadn't been too enthused about all the ruckus going on, as one would expect, but Optimus had made it a point to soothe him when the medic would begin to grumble too loudly. It was a brief reprieve for the other Autobots, who’d been rather tense of late and needed a little night of fun, and it served to better acquaint them with their newest addition. Bumblebee seemed to get along with him fairly well, and Arcee seemed to regard him with a constantly exasperated but amused air. Bulkhead...acted amiable enough on the outside, but you worried about him. His near-fatal injury and subsequent recovery had hit him hard, and had hit his spirit harder. You’d thought to call Wheeljack to help lift the green ex-Wrecker’s spirit, but...you didn’t think the others would be nearly so inclined to welcome him back so soon after his day trip with Miko. And you’d seen the way Bulkhead’s demeanor would fall whenever he thought no one was looking - you hoped that he would bounce back soon.

You slowly sat up, being careful to make as little noise as you could manage as you slipped out from beneath the blankets and rose to your feet. You padded silently past the recharging Autobot, holding your breath when he twitched and made a soft noise. He settled down almost immediately after, doorwings flaring and closing slowly. It almost reminded you of a butterfly at rest.

You relaxed when you got closer to the main computer terminal, breathing out softly as you reached out and placed a hand on Ratchet’s pede. He jerked minutely under the unexpected touch, peering down until his optics found you.

He ex-vented, straightening and returning his attention to the screen. “I’m almost finished. Go back to sleep.”

“You can finish it in the morning,” you murmured back, patting the warm metal beneath your palm affectionately. “A couple more hours of recharge than usual isn’t going to hurt you, Ratchet.”

He paused, his mouth pursing briefly, and you worried that he was just going to shoo you away and keep working. He surprised you by ex-venting long and low, hitting one last button and closing the file before letting his servos fall from the keyboard.

“Fine,” he muttered, tone weary and all too telling. “Fine.”

You smiled gently. “Get some rest, you stubborn old mech. You’re going to need it if we’re keeping the overgrown puppy over there.”

He scoffed softly, but you didn’t miss the curve of a smile he was trying to hide. “You should as well. Who knows what diabolical plot Miko has devised for tomorrow’s activities.”

“I hope she doesn’t drag out the Monopoly board,” you muttered, smirking up at him. “We may as well kiss another Autobot goodbye.”

You shared a stifled look of amusement before you both cracked and chuckled.

“Sleep well,” he said, turning and walking quietly towards the open corridor.

“Sweet dreams, Ratchet,” you returned, watching him go. A sense of peace settled over you and you gave the hangar a visual sweep. Everything was quiet.

But...something still felt...off. You couldn’t put a finger on it, but…

Well, you were still a bit tired. You wondered if you could catch a few more hours with Optimus - you were already mostly awake, but being able to hear his spark whir and his engine rumble beneath his plating always helped soothe you back to sleep.

Read the rest of the oneshot here! :)

#fisara's codices #fanfiction #transformers #transformers prime #transformers: prime #tfp #tf prime #optimus prime #reader insert #optimus prime/reader #optimus prime x reader #optimus prime/you #optimus prime x you #ao3: your prime his spark #ao3: stargazing

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miss-celestia13 · 7 months

Text

Good Girl

Jake x MC Smut One Shot

Words: 3.4k

A week apart. A clever little toy. Taunting Jake and refusing to back down means Manon is about to learn that playing with fire gets you burnt… in a very good way. Praise, denial of sex to make her beg, and a filthy dream that shatters her control. Shameless gratuitous smut!

It's been a while since I posted some explicit shit, and this was gathering dust in my drafts. Can be read on its own. You don't even have to know the fandom to read it. It's smut at its most indulgent and plotless self. I hope you enjoy it! It's a dual POV, switches from Jake to my MC and back again every so often, but I've tried to make it as clear as possible. Their names are bolded to show whose head you're in.

Manon: It’s a shame you have to work...

Jake: Why?

Manon: I was shopping earlier and bought something for us to play with.

Jake: …

Manon lay on her front on her massive hotel bed, legs crossed at the ankle and kicking up as his chat bubble told her he was typing and deleting repeatedly. It took another few minutes before he sent something else.

Jake: For us or for you?

Manon: Well, I was bored earlier, and it was definitely for me then, but I know you’ll figure it out when I come home.

Jake: Manon.

You should have waited for me.

Manon: You should know by now that waiting isn’t my strong suit.

Jake: How many times?

She considered lying, but part of her still thought he could read her filthy mind, and her thumbs moved before her mind could catch up.

Manon: Twice.

Jake: That’s it?

Pathetic.

A strangled laugh left her, she could hear his cocky tone, and already she wanted to go for round three. She decided to play a perilous game and prod at his need to claim, conquer, and own her in bed. Familiar heat made her muscles loose, and a hot flush crept up her neck to stain her cheeks pink.

Manon: There is plenty of time to make that number rise...

Jake: Do you want me to deny you, Manon? You didn’t like it last time.

Manon: I vividly remember enjoying the end results, though.

Jake: I see.

We’ll see how long you last this time.

Sleep well, Manon. ;-)

(Jake is offline)

Fuck. Her pulse flickered wildly in her neck as she stared at the screen and wished she could slap herself, turn back time, and not provoke him into another game of, “Let’s see how long Manon’s sanity can stretch before she snaps and begs.” Two days were her limit a few months back, and she hadn’t pushed him that far since. The safety of a luxury hotel and the temporary distance between them gave her a false sense of confidence, and she would be the loser if she couldn’t hold out. No. She refused to lose and wouldn’t see him for a week. It would be easy. A walk in the Godsdamned park. It would’ve been if Jake hadn’t shown up at her door the following morning and joined her for the rest of her stay. Her new plaything was soon confiscated, and her suffering began.

Five days. Five fucking days he slept naked beside her, joined her in the shower, touched, kissed, and grabbed her until she trembled and moaned, only to be released with a peck on the cheek and a sly smirk as he turned away. Her nerves were shot, a permanent tremor took up residence in her hands whenever he brushed past her or smiled her way, and she ran out of clean underwear two days ago, slick so often she had to change them multiple times just to get through the fucking day. He never let her out of his sight to ensure she couldn’t relieve the pressure building to an implosion inside her with her fingers. She was on a blade edge as she readied for another sleepless night.

Exhaustion dragged her down as she slid off her robe and clambered into bed, ignoring the smug look on Jake’s face as she put her back to him and slammed her eyes shut. She thought sleep was beyond the realm of possibility, but her body had been on high alert for days and demanded a break. She was asleep within minutes, barely cognizant of his gentle kiss on her temple as oblivion pulled her under. There was no respite from her constant simmering arousal inside her dreams. He was there, under her, on top of or lifting her up, and it changed each time she blinked and was so vibrant and real that she could feel the slip and slide of her essence on her inner thighs as he fucked her.

Unleashed and intent on making her crumble, she was helpless as dream Jake flipped her on her front and ordered her to get on her knees and hold on. Her shaking hands gripped the bedpost just as he slid inside her, every hard inch so familiar and real to her as she keened. Out of focus and constantly changing, she could only burn as the dream spun out of control. Seeing them from above, two souls twisted together on the bed, positions switching as she flung her head back and screamed. She flinched away from it and blinked, finding herself under him once more. Release was so close it was a coppery tang on her tongue as he urged her on. Ready to crest that peak, primed to detonate, relief and gratitude sinking through her…

She was unceremoniously dragged out of it and blinked stupidly at the dark ceiling as Jake jostled the bed and turned to face her.

She was soaked in sweat, her saturated cunt clenching in time with her furious heartbeat, and a moan trapped halfway up her throat as her thwarted orgasm winked out of existence. That was it. Her hormones had reached critical levels. She couldn’t take it anymore. Lust was a lead weight low in her belly. A swirling ache with its own pulse resided in her core, and she realized dimly that she was whimpering softly. She could take the edge off herself and hold off a little longer. The thought made her bottom lip tremble as sweat trickled down her face. She was soaked and unable to think or breathe through the violent arousal stealing her tongue. Sensing Jake watching her, she didn’t jump when his sleep-roughened voice rumbled too close for her jumpy nerves.

“Two words, Manon. Say them, and I’ll fuck the ache away.”

Oh, fuck, he never played fair. Her legs clamped together, and she was rubbing them slightly, seeking friction as his large hand wrapped around the back of her thigh. He’d feel how wet she was; it slid down her thighs to soak the sheets, and she knew he’d already noticed. She was proven right when his fingers crawled between her legs to delve into her slippery folds. Her whimper fast turned into a whine as he circled her entrance with the tip of his finger but didn’t penetrate her. It was cruel of him to tease her when she felt like an animal in heat. A creature of base instincts so devastating she feared she might die if he didn’t fuck her. The words were on the tip of her tongue, her mouth parted along with her thighs, and she was close to begging when he called her good girl.

She hated to lose. She would rather die than give in, but her body would not rest without his care and even if he allowed her to touch herself, it wouldn’t be enough. He was smirking, she could barely see him, but she knew he was as she loosed a quivering breath and his finger grazed her clit. No, she had no other option, and her mouth opened before she understood she was talking.

“You win. Please, I think I’ll go mad if you don’t fuck me.” She fully expected him to gloat, or laugh but he didn’t make a noise.

Suddenly, his mouth was on her neck, teeth scraping down the column as she jolted and let out a yelp that soon turned to a warbling moan as he slid two fingers inside her weeping cunt. The heel of his hand caught her clit as he moved it in and out, her fluttering inner walls holding his fingers tight. She could feel her sanity splintering and weakening as pleasure ignited like fire on gasoline. Jake murmured pure filth to urge her on.

“I need you relaxed, Manon. I can’t give you what you want until you come for me. I need to hear you. Then I’ll fuck the sense back into you.”

An unhinged laugh spilled out of her as her stomach tensed, the heat between her legs now an inferno as she ground herself into his hand. It was like sparking flint over dry brush. He coaxed her along, crooking and pulling his fingers, kissing her until she drank the air from his lungs. Besotted after all this time. She wondered how they’d be twenty years from then. Still obsessed with each other and deeply in love? She believed so, and as the first ripples of her release spread from her core, she knew she would always feel so utterly unglued around him. Everything in him was designed to pull her apart and put her back together. Her mouth opened, a dark wail and curse of his name as her body tensed and jerked with every pull of his hand between her thighs.

“There, let it take the edge off. You’re beautiful.”

Over time, Jake got even braver in the bedroom, and out of it, he was confident, a little cocky when needed, and completely aware of his effect on Manon. A few words, a couple twists of his wrist, and denying her for a short time, it was a recipe for heaven when she finally erupted. He’d hated every moment of denying her; he needed her touch as often as she needed his. All he had to do was think about her or catch a hint of her seductive scent, and he was rock hard, ready to taunt her body into unconsciousness. Oh, yes, he knew how strongly he could make her react. She was always extra touchy the following days after one of those animalistic nights. He tried not to use it too often, but she deserved that from him tonight. He knew if he fucked her right away, she would come too fast to savor it. She was a livewire under his influence; he only had to look at her over the last few days, and he could observe her struggle to keep the words that would end her torment trapped inside. Her quaking body flooded his hand with her essence, and he wanted to taste it more than he wanted to breathe.

“Jake,” she whispered as she took her first full breath since waking; he affirmed as he sucked his fingers clean and wordlessly told her to go on, “I need you. Now. “

“Do you want me to take care of you?” He needed her consent before physically committing to taking her control away.

Her soft, urgent whine made his smirk broaden as she said, “Yes. Don’t make me beg.”

He let go of a black chuckle, “You already are, Sweetheart.”

That was the trigger word, saved for these moments as its power over her was so explosive that she turned feral. His smirk transformed into a grin, and he caught her as she pounced and pushed him onto his back. Her tongue was in his mouth as his cock jumped against her ass, and she clawed his chest, sharp nails making him hiss into her mouth. He groaned and bucked his hips when he felt her drip onto his torso. His cock ached with the need to sink into her tight heat and feel her disintegrate around his length. She made a beast out of him, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He never got bored of exploring her body and claiming new territory. He wrapped his hand around his cock and sighed as he applied pressure and stroked up and down a few times. Manon keened and found her voice.

“I’ve said the damn words, Jake. Stop playing.”

He didn’t respond; he let himself go and gripped her waist, flipping them so her hips cradled his and she was pinned. The heat pouring off her was scalding, and her skin was damp, salty, and musky as he inhaled slowly. His mouth watered as he stared into her lust-hazed eyes. She would let him do anything and trusted him so profoundly she readily handed him the reins. He didn’t take that for granted as he snapped his teeth at her plump bottom lip and stretched to reach under his pillow where he’d stashed the item that started all of this. He fumbled blindly until he felt the cool, smooth handle. It was a small clit sucking toy she mentioned once in passing, and he wanted to surprise her with it, but her impatient ass couldn’t wait. She already knew what he planned as she writhed under him and shook her head.

“Yes or no, Manon. You can stop me at any time. I’m doing this for you.” He rasped as she babbled.

Her voice never sounded, but she did nod.

“Will I keep going?” He double-checked, knowing he was being a little cruel.

“Yes! Fucking hell you are -” She sobbed as he impaled her on his thick cock and held her still, the insult she planned to spit at him forgotten as her eyes rolled back.

Her cunt held his cock in a taught clasp. A sensation of static flared under his skin as he made tiny shifts of his hips to open her up and stretch her to take him with force. Oh, her body would sing for him, primed to explode as it was. His small movements inside her turned into sharp darts of his cock that had her clinging to his shoulders. A sloppy kiss kept his own need to cum at bay as he experienced again how she melted like ice in July. He slid his hand up her thigh and paused at her knee, hiking her leg to change the angle enough to rub against that spot, making her wetness turn to a torrent of need. Still, he couldn’t make it too easy, when he felt the first pulse of her orgasm, he held her down with strength until the early flutters died out.

She was wound tighter than a reel of thread. One sudden move, and she would begin to unravel. Sobbing and distressed at being denied, she babbled “please” like a lifeline as he ignored his own lust and focused intently on her. He wished he could strap her down and drive her to the brink of insanity before giving into the want to hear her cry his name, but their restraints were back at home. She was too riled to wait for him to find something to tie her up. His sexual taunting earlier had affected her more than she wanted to admit, but he could feel it in the flood of essence drenching his cock and the raking of her nails down his skin. When she began trying to steal her pleasure, Jake pulled almost all the way out and slammed back into the hilt. Both moaned, and she was constantly making wordless noise like he’d made her forget English. He loved it and how powerful it made him feel. She liked to put on a show; her body kept him up all night more often than not, and he realized they never had been able to take things slow. Always fast, eternally burning, and all-consuming, it thrilled him.

“Use it now.” He ordered firmly, putting a good dose of authority into his tone, and she whimpered as she felt around the mattress for the toy. The quiet thrum when she turned it on seemed very loud as she worked it between their joined bodies to align it with her swollen clit. He knew she found the right setting when her inner walls clamped down on his length and tried to pull him impossibly deeper, her trembling making him shake as well.

He loved to overwhelm her. She was a force of nature in all she did and needed no one. Still, he knew she wanted him to take charge, to simply feel and not have to think for once. She always delighted in it once she let go of her pride and relinquished control, only doing so after she plucked away at his restraint to make him manhandle her. A distressed throaty whine made him smile as he taunted her with slow sensual plunges of his cock inside her flickering cunt. She was so wet, the toy was unrelenting in its efforts and her teeth were bared against the onslaught of sensations he could practically see moving through her. All he could smell was her sex and desire, a heady perfume he wanted her to wear every day. It took everything in him to ignore the tingling building low in his spine as she went rigid and arched into him, the sobs coming from her turning his lust into something sharp and dark.

“Now. Let go, or I’ll stop.” He clipped as he felt her tense and try to hold her orgasm off.

Her breath hitched as she turned the toy to a higher setting, and his thrusts became harsher to help her over the edge. He slammed into her again and again as her wail turned to a scream so ragged and raw he was proud of them both as she shattered. She attempted to move the toy away as her orgasm rolled through her, stealing his breath as her inner walls clenched around his cock, and he barked at her to stop.

“No, keep it there. One more time, you can do it.”

A helpless little sound trickled from Manon’s throat as her body jerked, and he mercilessly fucked her through it. All she knew was fire and desire so intense her mind struggled to comprehend what was happening to her. More brutal and rougher, he pounded into her and grinned down at her as she howled savagely and tried to breathe through the incredible pleasure surging through her aching body. It was too much. Her second orgasm still pulsed in her core as she felt another rising to swallow her whole. Jake sobbed above her, bending her further back, and a bite of delicious pain heightened the frenzied energy running through her veins. She couldn’t take it. Her mind fractured into jagged lines and red light, thoughts scattered like ash in the wind as his clever tongue filled her ears with praise.

“Good girl. You’re almost there. Turn it up for me.”

No, no, she couldn’t, the sucking sensation sealed around her over-sensitive clit was sending her farther into madness, but her traitorous fingers did as told, slipping over the soaked handle to find the right button to turn it up. The pattern of it changed. Every snap of his hips and the insistent suction made her thrash her head as her body convulsed. It blended into her second release, dragging it out and heightening it to a point where she could only wail and wait for the darkness at the edges of her vision to take her. Her breath came in harsh pants; his breathing was as rough as hers as he urged her on, and she gave herself over to the wildfire consuming her body and soul. She disintegrated into a million pieces like a house of cards in a hurricane. It terrified her how hard it seized her. Like she was having a fit as her mind slowly winked out, and she heard his cry of victory. Her name yelled into the sex-heavy air as he collapsed on top of her still-flailing body and smothered the noise she was making with his mouth.

Jake kissed her until she stopped kissing back. Knew she was on her way to sleep before his mouth was on hers, and he needed to soothe her before she fully slipped into a doze. Male pride at her twitchy, barely conscious body made him smile as he pulled free of her of her cunt. Tender touches to sweep her hair away from her face and wipe the sweat from her brow made her mumble his name and smile. She would sleep like the dead before long, and he knew she’d wake him for another round before they faced the outside world, so he carefully disentangled himself to go clean up. He picked up the still buzzing toy off the bed, turned it off, and took it into the bathroom to wash it off. He was done within minutes and soon crawled back into bed.

The sheets were damp with sweat and her essence. Never had he witnessed her so needy and vulnerable. Usually, he didn’t stop her from getting herself off to tide her over until she was desperate enough to let him win. She had nowhere to hide from him this time, and he’d taken full advantage. No matter where they were or what they did, they always ended up here. He thought they’d slow down after all the time they’d lived together. But somehow, it only became more apparent that they were addicted to each other and the pleasure they gifted one another. He loved it. He couldn’t wipe his satisfied smile away as he dragged the sheet over them and settled down to sleep. His last thought was that he couldn’t wait for her to get her own back and take it out on him.

**************************

Thank you so much for reading! I hope it was good. And thank you for any comments or reblogs if you feel like doing that too! I appreciate it 🥰❤️

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stayinzencity · 1 month

Text

heroine’s manual S1 E3

GENRE: Romcom, Drama | love triangles, childhood friends, high school au | INSPIRED BY: Heroine Shikkaku (shoujo manga) | LENGTH: ~1.4K | RATING: Teen | WARNINGS: mentions of food, eating | PAIRINGS: Minho x MC (Reader), Minho x OC (Heather) | TAGLIST: @linoscence @elizabeth11moreno (ask to be added) | A/N: this chapter finally came out of the drafts after years thanks to @jisungsdaydreamer (and me accidentally posting part 5 first oops)

♡ previous episode

♡ return to main

THREE. Even if he rejects me, I won't give up so easily and allow someone else to steal my spot.

Inviting Heather to hang out is a mistake. Having your friends around doesn't make you feel any less of a third wheel. It’s Heather who’s supposed to be the odd one out amongst your group, yet somehow it feels like the rest of you are the ones intruding. You can't bear to witness the shy glances and gentle smiles Minho and Heather exchange.

You're trying to come up with an excuse to break them apart without being the bad guy, when a crash comes to your rescue.

"Ah. My bad," Jisung apologizes, looking down at the glass he'd accidently knocked over. He'd been sitting next to Heather, and while the glass was fortunately intact, water had spilled onto Heather's lap.

"Looks like you’re the victim of Jisung's idiocy today." Hyunjin hands her napkins, attempting to ease her through the awkwardness with his charming smile. He shoots Jisung a withering glare, getting a sheepish look and shrug in reply.

"I guess I should get going," Heather says. She rises from her seat in a hurry, but a hand over hers gives her a reason to wait.

Hyunjin.

Minho's expression is closer to amusement than jealousy, watching as his friend calls his girlfriend - by her actual name, not the nickname you've given her.

Maybe Hyunjin's crush hasn't disappeared yet. If he and Heather get together, then Minho would be yours again. Everything would fall perfectly in place.

"We don't live that far from each other. I'll take you home." Hyunjin pauses, turning to Minho who's sneaking cake onto Jisung's plate. "If that's fine with your boyfriend?"

"Whatever she wants," Minho says with a shrug. He doesn't seem to be worried about Hyunjin stealing away his girlfriend, which boosts your confidence in your own chances with him.

"Yeah," you enthusiastically agree, nodding your head. "Hyunjin's a nice guy. Have a wonderful evening!"

Hyunjin narrows his eyes, scowling at you, instead of being grateful that you're helping him out. One day, he'll figure it out, and thank you.

You lean close to her so that only she - and Hyunjin, perhaps - can hear. "You might even fall for him instead of Minho."

Hyunjin scoffs at your words with an exaggerated eyeroll and drags Heather out the door before you can say anything else.

Seungmin leaves soon after them, muttering something about an assignment that you don't really bother paying attention to.

And then it's just Minho, Jisung and you.

"We should head home too," Minho says. He gets up from the table and grabs his jacket from the back of the chair. "It's movie night."

"Ah, right." Jisung sends you a wink, starting the next phase of your plan to set your story on track. "I've got some stuff I need to work on, so I'll have to trust you two to keep our tradition alive even if it’s not the same without me."

And then it was just Minho and you.

It's usually easy to forget Minho's girlfriends exist when they're not around. Often they fade into the background even when they are around.

Yet you find yourself alone with Minho, head in his lap, too distracted to actually watch the show that's playing on the TV. Too much on your mind to even enjoy this moment.

Minho's texting someone, wearing a smile as soft as the one he usually gives you before he wraps you in a hug.

The someone in question must be Heather. After all, who else could it be? The only real rival you've ever had when it came to Minho's affection and attention is Heather, right?

If there's no struggle, then it won't feel as special when you finally end up together. Heather isn't the heroine. That title belongs to you. You're the one that's always been with Minho. No one else knows him like you do- well, maybe Jisung does. That's a different story though.

If you're the heroine, then why do you feel like you're in second place? Are you falling into a background role in your own story? Could it be you're simply a side character in this tale?

Minho's fingers run through your hair, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You're the one here with him, not Heather. You're the heroine, not her. There's still hope.

“I like you,” you blurt. It's far from the confession you had planned, especially since you weren't even the one who was supposed to be saying the words first. Sometimes you need to improvise to get the perfect scenes, so it's ok. “I like you so much.”

Minho’s hand stops stroking your hair. He doesn’t take it away, so you don’t attempt to sit up. You want to be close to him, for as long as you can.

Any moment now, he'll admit his feelings for you and you'll be the one beside him instead of Heather.

You know that, but if somehow these are the last moments you’ll have with him, you want to remember them being pleasant. Besides, you don’t exactly want to look at his face right now. The aftermath of a confession is more mortifying than you imagined, especially when you haven't gotten an answer in return.

“I know,” he says.

And that’s it. He doesn't say anything else. And you don't have the courage to ask what your words meant to him.

The couple on screen breaks up and eventually makes up, but you don't even remember their names anymore. Tears fall from your eyes and you wipe them away.

"I can't watch this anymore," you manage to whisper. It's not the drama that has you crying. You know it, and you know Minho probably does too. "I'll head home."

Minho doesn't try to stop you as you leave. As tempting as it is to turn back, you're too afraid that Minho's eyes won't be watching you.

Seungmin once explained some physics cat theory. Put a cat in a box with poison, and it could be both alive or dead as long you don't open it. If you don't check, the cat might still be alive. Something like that.

In your imagination, Minho is woefully watching as you walk away.

After the confession, it's a little hard. Minho isn't actively avoiding you, except he kind of is. He has the perfect excuses, plus the universe seems to be on his side. It's natural for the hero of the story to have exceptional luck.

As the heroine, you don't seem to have the same advantage. If anything, there's just been obstacles to your perfect ending. The biggest one turning out to be Minho himself.

You thought you didn't have to do anything and everything would fall into place by itself. Then when you took a chance and confessed, you were turned down. But even if he doesn't feel the same way now, you can't give up yet. It hurt when you realized you weren't on the same page as him, but there's still time for him to catch up, right?

You run into him after class, and he has to catch you before you stumble to the floor. It's a scene straight out of the kind of anime you love to watch. A sign for you to take another chance, except Minho speaks before you can.

"No."

You haven't even said a word, and you’ve already been shot down. An arrow through your heart, but it seems cupid isn't on your side.

Are you that obvious? Could Minho read minds? Does he really not like you?

"What? I didn't even ask-"

"I won't go out with you."

Ah. Well. Minho hasn't told you that he doesn't like you, though you aren't sure if you could handle hearing those words straight from him.

"That wasn't what I was going to say," you lie. Your voice is strained, and you can't meet his eyes, so maybe it's not believable. But you can't admit the truth, can you? "I wanted to ask if you had any movie recommendations."

Minho raises an eyebrow. He's not fooled. Still he goes along with it and makes some suggestions. Not that you’re really paying attention to his words as much as how his voice sounds.

Minho. It's always been Minho.

And you were the constant in his life, at least until Heather showed up.

It's hard to admit that she might have stolen the role that was meant for you, but you can't move ahead without accepting that.

Turns out Minho isn't just on a different page. The title of the book doesn't match either.

You are lost, clueless of what lies ahead. There's one thing you're certain of though.

Even if you’re disqualified as a heroine, your only hero is Minho.

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fr3sh-tragedies · 1 year

Text

Requited Love

[Resident Evil: Village] Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Proofread: Yes

Content Warnings: Spoilers for the game, angst, mentions of past trauma, death, anxiety.

[A/N]: This was a prompt swap with one of my friends, and I've written one more from this challenge with her for Samantha Giddings, though I don't plan to post it anytime soon. I have a masterlist in my drafts that lists all of the characters I want to write for, but I'd like to post three stories for each of those characters before I upload the masterlist--that way I can figure out which ones I will actually write for, and which ones I won't.

Enjoy!

“C’mon, Aunt Donna! I’m telling you: if you take her out on a date like that, she’ll have to say yes!” Daniela chirped excitedly from her seat against the armrest of the sofa. Bela elbowed her gently in the arm, scoffing and shaking her head. “Dani, [Y/N] shouldn’t feel pressured to say she feels the same way. She should have every reason to feel comfortable enough to say no if she’s not interested.” She turned to Donna, who had been fidgeting with her fingers. “Of course,” the blonde said in a much softer tone, “I don’t have any doubts that she won’t reciprocate your feelings. I’ve seen just how thrilled and lively she gets whenever your name is even mentioned.” The doll-maker’s head perked up at this, her shoulders tensed as she stared with pure hope behind her veil at the eldest daughter.

Angie jumped up onto the sofa and bounced on top of Bela’s lap. “Really?” She squealed. Bela smirked knowingly at her as she side-glanced at Donna. “Yes, of course.” Daniela leaned forward. “Yeah! She really does love you, Auntie! We’ve all seen it–even Cassandra! Right, Cass?” She turned to her older sister, who was seated at the far end of the couch with her arms crossed, seemingly disinterested. She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Yeah. It’s sickening to see how oblivious the two of you are around each other,” she retorted. Bela sent her a threatening glare. “Cass, watch it. It’s not their fault they’re too nervous to confess. Rejection is a painful thing to experience.”

The brunette turned to her. “Yeah, I know, but they aren’t going to reject each other. We all know that.” “They don’t know that. Well, Donna knows now, but [Y/N] doesn’t.” She turned to her aunt with a comforting smile. “I can assure you that the love you have for [Y/N] is requited.” Donna smiled softly under her veil, looking to her lap as the three daughters turned to Angie. “Don’t worry,” the small doll spoke while waving her hand dismissively. “I’ll make sure Donna doesn’t chicken out.” Donna turned to her. “Angie,” she scolded as Daniela and Bela chuckled–Cassandra even snickered a bit to herself from the opposite end of the group

The doll-maker sighed and tugged Angie over to sit in her lap. “What if I mess something up?” She voiced softly after a moment. Daniela stood from the armrest and moved to sit next to Donna, squishing herself in between her aunt and Cassandra. “Hey, watch it!” The redhead ignored her and gently grasped one of Donna’s hands. “You won’t ruin anything,” she reassured in an uncharacteristic tone. “Bela and I can even help you set everything up so you can focus on making the food!” The veiled woman looked to Bela, who smiled back at her. “You two would be willing to do that for me?” The blonde nodded. “Of course. Since it’s warm enough outside, we should be able to stay out without much layering.”

Cassandra cleared her throat, prompting everyone to glance over at her. She stared at them expectantly. When she got no answer, she growled and planted her hand flat against her chest. “Am I just supposed to stay here on my own? Do you three really not trust me enough to contribute somehow?” Bela and Daniela looked at each other with confusion. “We thought this kind of stuff annoyed you,” the blonde responded. “It does, but I don’t like being left out of things. I hate it almost as much as I hate all of this cheesy romance shit.” Bela rolled her eyes and Daniela giggled. “I’m not really sure what you could help with. Dani and I can take care of the table and decor pretty quickly on our own.”

Cassandra growled again, but before she could speak and bicker with her sister, Donna turned to her. “Actually, Cassandra, if you’d really like to help, it might be nice for the main part of the meal to be hunted and homemade instead of being bought from the Duke. It would add a more meaningful aspect to it.” Cassandra’s eyes lit up as she smirked. “Say no more. Name the day, and I’ll be there with whatever you need.” She shifted into a swarm of flies and flew up the stairs, leaving her sisters there to finish planning with Donna.

T////////S

[Y/N] giggled as Donna led her over behind the house to the edge of the waterfall. “Donna, where are we going?” The doll-maker had covered the girl’s eyes with her hands so she’d hopefully be surprised by the setup. “Somewhere special, but not far from home. I…” She hesitated, her hands trembling against [Y/N]’s face. The [h/c] girl raised her own hands to cover Donna’s, gently caressing them with the pads of her thumbs. “Hun, just relax. I’m sure I’ll love wherever you take me.” Donna smiled warmly down at her. Her tensed hands slowly relaxed as they continued walking forward, but quickly grew rigid again as they grew closer to her desired spot.

Finally, after a long while of stumbling and trying not to trip each other, the two women came to a stop. [Y/N]’s eyes were still covered, but she was able to hear the rushing water of the nearby cliff flowing down rapidly somewhere far below them. Donna sucked in a deep breath. “I-I really hope you’ll like it,” she whispered, internally slapping herself for stuttering. Even after failing to steel her nerves, Donna managed to remove her hands and drop them down to her sides, where they only remained temporarily before finding each other in front of her torso to pick at one another. [Y/N]’s eyes slowly fluttered open. They quickly widened shortly after as a small gasp slipped past her lips. “Oh, Donna, it’s beautiful!”

Donna sighed in relief, glancing over to take in the view herself. There, a good distance away from the edge of the cliff, stood a suitably sized table with two seats placed opposite of one another. A pastel tablecloth draped itself atop the wooden surface of the table, the edges rippling with the soft breeze. Resting on top of the cloth was a small vase filled with dicentras as the centerpiece, two plates of lasagne, and a small tray of antipasto. Two wine glasses full of Barbaresco positioned themselves beside the plates, the rims of the glass shimmering underneath the moonlight. Even from where she stood, [Y/N] recognized the craftsmanship of the wood used for the table and chairs–Donna had made them quite a while ago, but she never knew why until then.

Donna stepped forward and softly placed her hand on [Y/N]’s shoulder. She squeezed it to gain her attention, prompting the girl to look up at her. “Do you really think it’s beautiful?” [Y/N] beamed brightly at her, turning to her and grabbing her hands. Donna blushed. “Of course I do,” she responded cheerfully. The ravenette sighed softly in relief. “I’m glad.” They stared at each other for a moment, not entirely sure what to say next. Finally, Angie came bounding from the opposite side of the house. “Sit down and eat before the food gets cold,” she yelled while tugging at [Y/N]’s pant leg. “Donna and the mean sister from the Tall Lady’s family spent a lot of time on it! I’ll bite your ankles if you don’t go sit down.” [Y/N] chuckled. “Okay, okay, fine.”

She and Donna walked over. Before [Y/N] had an opportunity to pull her chair out to sit down, Donna rushed over and did it for her. She thanked her with a sheepish grin and watched as the doll-maker forcefully sauntered over to her own seat. Once they were both seated, they picked up their utensils and hesitantly began to eat. [Y/N] hummed once the flavor hit her tongue. She covered her mouth as she spoke. “Oh, wow, this tastes incredible, Donna! And Angie said Cassandra helped with this?” Donna nodded and blushed. “Yes. She helped hunt for the meat in the dish, and Bela and Daniela helped me set the table, chairs, and decor up. They’re, um…they’re actually the ones who encouraged me to do this tonight.” [Y/N] smiled. “They’re all so sweet, even if they don’t like to show it.” Donna nodded in agreement.

She took a shaky breath, unsure of how to even bring up her confession. Her hand trembled as she continued to take small bites. She went to reach for her glass, but decided against it when she noticed just how badly her hand was shaking. She didn’t want to spill the wine on herself and end up embarrassing herself while ruining the moment. ‘How am I supposed to ask her? There has to be a way to bring it up in a smooth manner.’ Panicked, her mind went back to a few weeks prior when she had been discussing the plan with the Dimitrescu sisters.

F////////B

“How do I even go about asking something like that? I don’t want it to be sudden and make it even more awkward than it already will be,” Donna anxiously said aloud, surprisingly not using Angie as her voice. The three sisters all turned to her, each one carrying their own expression: Bela seemed distressed, Cassandra appeared annoyed, and Daniela looked as though she was about to burst with the ideas she had been keeping private about the date. “I don’t want to screw this up–I’m already enough of a screw-up as it is.” The sisters’ expressions all shifted into one of uniformed concern. They sat next to Donna on the bed, Bela and Daniela taking either one of her hands. “Hey, what are you talking about? You’re not a screw-up,” the redhead assured softly. Donna lowered her head in an attempt to hide the tears pricking her one good eye, even though her veil was still covering her face.

“I am. I always have been. I don’t know what [Y/N] even sees in me.” Bela tilted her head as the pad of her thumb brushed over the back of the doll-maker’s hand in a soothing manner. “What makes you think of yourself that way?” Donna sniffled and slipped both hands out of the girls’ grasp, allowing her to bring them up under her veil to wipe her tears and hide her face even further. “I’ve always been able to tell how people think of me,” she started softly. “My parents always favored both of my sisters, and once they passed, they didn’t seem to care enough about me to stay. I remember crying to myself each night–telling myself that, if I had been good enough, maybe they would’ve stayed. Maybe they would’ve loved me more.”

“Oh, Donna, you–” “And then I met Mother Miranda. I thought I could be a perfect daughter, even if I wasn’t fit to be a vessel for Eva. When she told me I was part of the family, even though I wasn’t a perfect fit, it didn’t upset me because I was happy to finally have people I could rely on. But then I read her entries about the experiments she performed on me.” She wiped her face again, her fingernails digging lightly into her scalp. “She…she said I was almost a perfect fit, but she was disappointed to learn that I’m “mentally underdeveloped.””

The three women beside her remained silent, unsure of what to say to comfort her. They listened with disheartened gazes as their aunt began to weep. She curled her legs up onto the bed and clutched them to her chest, allowing her to bury her head in between her knees. “I don’t want [Y/N] to see me as a disappointment,” she finally rasped at length. “She means way too much to me–I can’t lose her like I’ve lost everyone else.” Bela pulled her to lean against her shoulder. “Hey, I may not be able to say anything about what Mother Miranda said about you because that’s out of my control, but I can assure you with all of my heart that [Y/N] loves you. She would do anything for you, yes, but that also means she wouldn’t lie to you about how she feels. If she thought of you in a low manner, you would’ve been able to tell. Has she done anything to make you doubt how she feels?”

Donna stayed quiet for a moment, seemingly thinking back on what Bela had asked her. After a moment, she shook her head. “No, she hasn’t. She actually…does the opposite.” “She does? How so?” “She just–she makes me so happy. She always compliments everything I do, and supports me, and constantly helps out around the house so I have more time to work in the shop. She even,” she chuckled, letting her legs fall back down to hang over the side of the bed again. “She even plays the piano and sings for me while I work so I won’t be alone.” Daniela grinned beside her and gently shook her shoulder. “See? There ya go! Just focus on the positive.”

Donna giggled, and she nodded as she moved to stop leaning against the eldest daughter so she could straighten out her clothes. “I suppose you have a point. I just–I still don’t know how to confess how I feel or ask her.” Cassandra stood and stepped in front of the three, crossing her arms. “Just do it. I don’t see why you’re so anxious about this.” Bela scoffed and stood up as well. “Cass, you need to–” “No, listen to me. I may not understand why people fall in love, but I do know that Aunt Donna and [Y/N] love each other. It’s not a temporary thing–especially for them–so she doesn’t need to worry so much about what could go wrong.” She turned to Donna, who had been listening intently. “She won’t say no, I promise. Just find whatever courage you need and tell her how you feel.”

The doll-maker smiled up at her, though no one could see it, and nodded. “I’ll do my best. Thank you–all three of you.”

They all beamed at her warmly. “Of course,” Daniela responded. “So, how’re you going to confess?” Donna blushed, her shoulders growing tense. “Oh, well…I’m not entirely sure. I know you said I couldn’t–and shouldn’t–use Angie, so I’m having to find a way to rehearse what I want to say for myself.” “And what do you have so far?” “Well…”

E////F////B

Donna cleared her throat, twirling her fork around and moving bits of food across the plate. “So, [Y/N],” she mumbled barely loud enough to hear. [Y/N]’s head perked up at the sound of her name. “Yes?” “I-I, uhm…” She glanced up at the girl across the table and blushed once they made eye contact, quickly averting her gaze and staring down at her lap. She looked over to find Angie giving her a thumbs up from several feet behind the [h/c] girl. With a shaky breath, Donna’s hands dropped down to pick at themselves underneath the table. She felt her heart hammering against her ribs, silently wondering if [Y/N] could hear it as well, and she found it hard to breathe properly. She whispered a few words of encouragement to herself under her breath.

Finally, she looked back up, though she couldn’t maintain eye contact, and she felt her arm jerking its way slowly above the table. Her palm presented itself face up–a silent plea for [Y/N] to hold her hand, which she did happily. Donna felt herself sigh. Holding [Y/N]’s hand always calmed her down–she truly felt at peace with her. “Can I be honest with you about something?” [Y/N] squeezed her hand softly, a small smile painting her lips.

“Of course you can. What is it?” Her calm tone felt welcoming–like it had no judgment behind it. Donna cleared her throat again. It felt too soon into the evening to be confessing like this, but she couldn’t wait any longer. She had to know if [Y/N] felt the same. “It’s about why I brought you here tonight. I wanted it to be special because what I need to tell you is…very personal. It’s important to me.” “I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me this then.” Donna chuckled, mindlessly rubbing her face with her free hand as she felt her face heating up even more.

“I have more than trust for you, [Y/N], believe me.” [Y/N] tilted her head, suddenly growing anxious. “Is something wrong?” “No, no, nothing is wrong. I just–” She finally looked her in the eye. “You mean the world to me [Y/N]. You’ve made my life so much better from the moment you arrived. You always know what to say and do to make me feel happy. You make sure I eat enough throughout the day, that I take plenty of breaks, that I get plenty of rest. You always help with the cleaning and cooking, so I have even more time to work on my projects, but you still manage to sit in the room with me to keep me company. I’ve never felt so…loved and important to someone. I truly hope you feel the same way about me.”

[Y/N] was awestruck. Her blush was evident as she responded. “I do, Donna. I do feel the same way. You mean the world to me as well. It might be really corny for me to say this, but I just can’t imagine my life without you. I don’t want to imagine my life without you.” Donna felt the tears already trickling down her cheek and across her jawline. She felt her fears slowly easing up. This was a great sign–she shared the same feelings about how important they were to one another. She smiled, squeezing [Y/N]’s hand even tighter. “I’m so glad.”

They stared at each other for a long while, both too afraid to say anything in fear of ruining the moment. Angie, however, came bounding over and pulled on Donna’s pant leg. “Tell her how you feel already! It’s getting dark, and I’m getting tired!” Donna shooed her away silently, her head perking up when [Y/N] giggled. “Angie, don’t rush her. She shouldn’t feel uncomfortable no matter what she has to say.”

Donna felt her heart beating faster. She stared at her for a long moment, her mind racing. “Donna? You okay?” She jumped. “Y-Yes!” [Y/N]’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at her sudden urgent tone, making Donna blush as she reflected immediately on how she answered. She cleared her throat and covered her mouth. “I-I apologize. Yes, I’m alright.” “Okay, that’s good.” “But what Angie was talking about–about me telling you…how I feel?” “Yes?” “Before I tell you, could I possibly ask if you’d promise me something?” “Of course.” “Can you promise me that you won’t leave me? That nothing will change between us?”

[Y/N] laughed nervously, but quickly composed herself a bit when she saw just how terrified and expectant Donna seemed. “I promise, but what exactly are you wanting to tell me? I’m sure nothing could be bad enough to damage our relationship.” Donna nodded, wiping her tears away and gripping [Y/N]’s trembling hand in her own. “I suppose we’ll see. I just want–I want to tell you,” her voice trailed off, her confidence faltering and crumbling.

“Take your time, okay? Don’t feel like you have to rush.” Donna remembered every word of encouragement from the people who knew about that night–Bela’s, Cassandra’s, Daniela’s, and even [Y/N]’s. She needed to get this over with. The feeling of being a burden returned–she was taking too long to get it out there. She gripped her leg tightly and took three deep breaths. Steeling her nerves, she blurted it out before she could lose her courage and back out of it again–the way she had done so many times before.

“I love you.”

She felt a weight lift off of her shoulders, though it wasn’t much. She still needed to know if [Y/N] felt the same. She pried her eye open and finally darted her gaze back up to find [Y/N]’s, only to discover that the [h/c] girl was blushing profusely. They stared at each other in silence for a long moment, making Donna even more anxious. “Did…did I ruin this?” She asked softly. [Y/N] slipped her hand from Donna’s to wave them dismissively in front of her. “Oh, no! No, Donna, not at all! I’m so sorry, I just—wasn’t expecting you to be the first one to confess.” Donna’s heart fluttered at the statement. She wanted to smile, but she needed to make sure she didn’t misinterpret the last part of the sentence.

“So…do you feel the same way?” “Yes! Yes, I do.” “Say it!” A random voice suddenly called from around the corner of the house. Both women jumped and turned to find Daniela peeking around the corner while Bela and Cassandra tried to pull her back into hiding. “What the hell?” Donna muttered, turning her attention back to [Y/N] when she laughed. “Sorry, they just really scared me,” she said in between breaths. Donna smiled warmly at her and let out a small snicker of her own. “They scared me as well.”

They gazed at each other with love-stricken grins. Finally, [Y/N] brought her hands up and took Donna’s into hers, caressing them softly before bringing her left hand up to press a light kiss to her knuckles. “I love you too,” she confessed. Donna’s heart flipped as a wide smile cracked across her lips. She stood, pulling [Y/N] to her feet, and tugged her into an embrace. “I love you so much. You have no idea how long I've dreamed of saying that to you,” she whispered. The faint sound of buzzing grew louder, and soon, Daniela was beside them, pulling them into a hug of her own. “Yes! See? I told you you could do it!” Bela and Cassandra joined nearby–Bela began to try to pry Daniela off of the two while Cassandra laughed at how ridiculous her sister was being. “Dani, leave them be! You just ruined the moment!” Donna giggled and leaned back from the hug just far enough to look over at her.

“Actually, Bela, she didn’t ruin anything. It’s alright, I promise. It’s nice to see that she’s so supportive of how [Y/N] and I feel about each other.” Bela sighed. “I’m glad, but Dani, you still need to let them go. This is their moment,” she said as she finally managed to yank her sister away from the two. Donna and [Y/N] both giggled at them before turning to stare at each other again. “So what does this mean? Are you two a thing now?” Cassandra suddenly asked as she stepped closer to the group.

The two women glanced at her before returning to each other. They studied each other’s gaze for a while, seemingly communicating without saying a word, and finally turned back to the sisters. “Yes, we are,” [Y/N] announced. Donna looked back down at her, unable to wipe the grin from her face.

“I’m so happy for you both,” Bela replied, softly patting Donna’s shoulder. “I told you this was a requited love.”

#donna beneviento x reader #donna beneviento x y/n #donna beneviento x female reader #donna beneviento #re8 donna #donna beneviento re8 #female reader #x reader #fluff #slight angst #spoilers #resident evil #resident evil village #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #angie beneviento #donna and angie

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oneatlatime · 10 months

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The Storm

This post was delayed due to dumbass technical issues. I managed to save it from annihilation by the skin of my teeth, and learned an important lesson about saving drafts along the way.

Long time no blog. As it's currently storming where I am, I feel it's time to watch this one.

Aang in the opening credits has his tongue out like a dog on a car ride. Now picturing a car full of airbenders hanging their heads out the window.

It's been long enough since I watched one of these that I forgot that dream sequences tend to be tinted brown. Had a two second panic trying to remember the episode where Sokka learned airbending.

I wanted to see more of Gyatso but not like this!

Appa the morning person.

Hey Zuko's back. Haven't seen him in a few episodes. Pipi Longstocking hair is still doing him no favours. Also is he really pale this episode?

I feel like Zuko's intelligence varies wildly from episode to episode (usually to serve the plot) but this may be a new depth of dumbness: tell the crew to their faces that their lives don't matter. You know, the crew that prevents the thing you're standing on in the middle of the ocean from sinking. The crew that keeps you fed and actually going somewhere. That crew.

On the other hand, Zuko's method for creating mutiny may break a world record for efficiency. He's such a dumb smart guy.

I'm with Katara on this one. I don't like that swishing either. And if they're out of money, why were they in a market anyway?

And with a kick to the rear, this episode's 'violence towards Sokka for laughs' quota is filled.

Never before in the history of humanity's hubristic quest to tame the seas has a wharf ever been this clean.

And I'm with the crewman on this one too. Zuko's actions really do line up with him not caring about anything beyond his own concerns.

Talk about rock and a hard place for Iroh here. From what I've gathered, it's Zuko's ship, which means that Zuko's in charge of everything including keeping order. But, Zuko is also being unreasonable in the face of a very reasonable complaint from the crew. So Iroh has to pacify both while undermining neither, and not appear to be in command. Takes delicacy.

Appa gets a mooring! Also what is that cave back there?

I was hoping the show would bring this up! To anyone who isn't riding along on Aang's adventures, it sure does look like the Avatar disappeared when he was needed most, continued to stay gone no matter how bad things got, and then just reappeared randomly one day with seemingly no plan to set set things right. Did he reappear to fight the firelord? According to rumour, he reappeared to ride giant koi. What would the average person be left thinking? The fisherman is right. And Katara - will you please let Aang fight his own battles for once in his life?

Aang being the bravest person you know? Do you not remember this?

You know, this?

"That fisherman was way out of line."

Poor guy needs a blow dry. Should be possible, what with airbending and all. Didn't know that Appa had a goatee. Actually the facial hair in general in this show is pretty creative.

If this is going to be the exposition dump storytelling episode, we may all need an emotional support Momo.

These air scooter shenanigans are making me think that the first lesson airbenders learn is how to nullify motion sickness.

Is this the first airbending we see by someone that isn't Aang or Appa?

Someone's been taking fashion tips from Narcissa Malfoy.

Oh fuck off that's too much pressure for a kid. Nice Wisteria though.

Isn't the toys thing a thing in the real world? Something to do with the Dalai Lama?

If Avatars have to be told that they're the Avatar, that implies that they don't know instinctively. Theoretically, could an isolated avatar living in peace time go their whole lives without figuring it out?

Oh wise and learned council of airbenders, please tell me how relying on a 12 year old is going to save you from a war?

Baby Zuko! Baby scarless Zuko! He looks like just the prettiest little princess in these shots. Also, either this happened not all that long ago, or Zuko is majorly overdue a growth spurt, because he's maybe one inch shorter in this flashback. Also also, Pipi Longstocking hair doesn't work no matter how much hair you have to put up. Also also also, the whole reverse tonsure look he has going on in the present really downplays how round his face is. He's got chubby baby cheeks. Also also also also, if Zuko is as much of a prince as his title implies, he's right that he needs to know how to rule.

I have picked up over the course of this show the fact that the fire nation seems to prioritise aesthetic. But this is just ridiculous. And a bit on the nose too. A literal wall of fire dividing you from the commoners? Not even the commoners, the highly esteemed generals in charge of your war? How does this guy see or hear anything that's going on?

Katara asking Aang why he wouldn't be excited about being the Avatar seems out of character for me. Why exactly would he be excited about being catapulted to the number one spot on the fire nation's 'enemies of the state' list? It's not like Katara doesn't know what happens to people on that list.

Don't worry about these jerks. They'll all be immolated in a little bit.

Smelly kid jokes. That's some peak 90s comedy right there.

I love Gyatso. Solidly in Aang's corner and happy to advocate for his charge even against grumpy temple elders. Never loses sight of the fact that Aang is just a boy and needs balance.

This Zuko disrespecting old farts stuff is nonsense. Like when you get called in to HR for 'walking disrespectfully past Sherri's desk' or 'aggressive choice of footwear' and you know it's just because they're looking for a bullshit reason to fire you/force you to quit because the owner's nephew wants your job and they don't want to pay for severance or unemployment. If pointing out obvious flaws in objectively stupid plans is an offence worthy of an honour duel (I'm not even going to try and spell the actual name), then this guy needs to be dueled too:

He called bullshit too.

No no they're not actually going to

oh fuck no

hang on he doesn't have his scar yet is this going where I think it's going?

Back to idiot monks phew. Another rock and a hard place situation. Aang needs to be a normal 12 year old. The world needs a fully trained Avatar. The best they can do is a half trained 12 year old avatar. That would have ended well I'm sure.

Oh yeah just yank out the remainders of Aang's support system. That will certainly encourage him to quickly develop into a responsible adult, rather than an emotionally disturbed 12 year old with unmatchable uncontrolled powers. What were these monks thinking? Or were they thinking at all? Were they just panicking? Because only Gyatso seems to have his head on straight. Upset avatars destroy things - we've SEEN that - and these monks think the best way to turn Aang into the Avatar they need is to do something that will upset him probably more than any other possible thing? At least they didn't think to take away Appa too.

Katara's right. He does have a right to be angry. I like that this show gives the characters permission to feel.

Indulging my inner pedant for a minute, he never saw Gyatso alive again. His bones were in pretty good condition. Actually, given that firebenders killed him, why weren't his bones covered in scorch marks? Also, is that where all the other airbender skeletons went? Instant cremation?

The fisherman's right - the avatar did turn his back on the world. Aang's right - he did run away. Katara's right - not running away wouldn't have saved anyone. Kudos to a kids' show for not flinching from tackling topics that have no right answers. Yay nuance!

oh god here we go

Free life tip: If you ever see a dependent and/or child assume this position at the feet of their guardian, call the relevant authorities. Quickly.

And of course there's a crowd of hundreds too. Nothing like a little public mutilation of children to flex your power over the masses. This firelord's ego is so fragile.

So that's where the scar comes from. Also the firelord's line about learning respect casts a new light on when Zuko said he'd teach respect to the crewman at the beginning of the episode. Guess he was channelling the firelord.

Big repsect to Zuko for the above. He's never lacked in bravery. This is the opposite of the "shameful weakness" nonsense.

"Things will never return to normal." THANK YOU

Why is Zuko in such a hurry to go home to that anyway? Seems like the only person who likes him is his uncle, and he's travelling with him.

This is odd. I've always felt like I know Aang, and hearing his story this episode just confirms that I do know him, who he is, what makes him tick. And it lets me know him better. I've deepened an already deep understanding of who he is. However, I thought I had a surface (if jumbled) understanding of Zuko, but hearing his story this episode, and especially the final series of shots, the way they frame him as alone in darkness contrasted with brightly lit memories, makes me sure that I've never known Zuko at all. Who is this guy? I feel like this is meeting him for the first time.

There's also definitely something worth examining in the fact that Aang tells his own story but Iroh tells Zuko's (beyond the fact that Aang is the only person left who could tell his story).

Thank god some comic relief. Not a moment too soon.

I didn't know firebenders could do that. Judging by his face, I don't think he did either.

The judgmental energy in this shot is unparalleled.

"I'm not but I still don't wanna!" This old couple has some seriously good lines.

Appa saves the day once again, this time with an assist from the Avatar powers. I swear if Appa's existence was paired with Sokka's brain they could do the Avatar's job no problem.

Zuko apologises. That is good. But is it Iroh he should be apologising to?

"I'm here now and I'm going to make the most of it." A lovely message to conclude a show on. But are we going to gloss over the whole 'father mutilates his son BARELY offscreen' thing?

Appa shakes!

Final Thoughts

This section could very easily devolve into increasingly hysterical ranting about the whole ZUKO JUST GOT HALF HIS FACE BURNED OFF AS A FORM OF COURT ENTERTAINMENT thing. Lord have mercy the fire nation is fucked up. To prevent that, I am going to share one thought, and only one thought on that fiasco:

this is the first time I've really felt that I'm not the target audience of this show. If I had seen this at 8 or 10 years old, I would have been appropriately mad at the firelord for doing such a bad thing, but it would have made perfect sense, because he's a bad guy, and they have to do bad guy things. It's what makes them bad guys. As an adult, with more knowledge in general, but especially about things like power dynamics and the long term consequences of child abuse, I am valiantly fighting not to spiral down a path of horrific implications because I want to be able to sleep tonight. From both a political and a familial point of view, there was no one (who wasn't 12 and frozen) who could have stepped in. It was the firelord who did it; it appears that there is no one above him in the fire nation hierarchy. It's Zuko's father who did it; good luck getting a kid to stand up to a father in front of an audience of hundreds in a culture that obviously worships a bastardised concept of respect (zuko tried though). Iroh couldn't (or wouldn't) interfere on either political or familial grounds. As an adult, seeing a child (because Zuko may be 16 in the show but that boy kneeling is BABY) stuck in such a situation, knowing there's literally no way to get out of it, no hero going to swoop in and save the day, no judicial process to dish out consequences, well that's hard to watch. And that's all I'll say about that.

Here's a thought: did the avatar (not Aang, but the figure/concept of the Avatar) disappearing fail Zuko, and by extension the fire nation, as much as it failed the other three nations? And the natural follow-along to that thought: did the fire nation attacking the rest of the world hurt the fire nation as much as it hurt the rest of the world?

Aang made a mistake many years ago by running away. He gets to redeem himself by not running away and saving Sokka and the fisherman. Zuko made a mistake at the beginning of the episode by undervaluing the lives of his crew (to their faces, no less). He gets to redeem himself by saving the helmsman and letting the Avatar pass in favour of getting the crew to safety. But I don't think these stories are really parallel. Aang's natural impulse was the mistake. He learned from it, modified his behaviour, and did better the next chance he got. Zuko's natural impulse was to act as he should have. He was taught (violently) that this was incorrect behaviour, and modified his behaviour based on his father's teachings. This modification (not valuing the crew) is the mistake. In Zuko's case, learning from the experience and modifying his behaviour actually means unlearning the lesson he was taught and reverting to his former behaviour. Aang's natural state needed modification; Zuko's externally imposed behaviour needed to be forgotten. Not parallel.

Aang = hope is an interesting conclusion. It's only possible for him to represent hope because he dashed everyone's hopes by disappearing and staying gone. If the avatar had defeated the fire nation 100 years ago and prevented a war from ever happening, he would not have been a symbol of hope. I don't know what he would have been a symbol of, but it's the fact that he's been gone long enough for things to get really bad that makes him a symbol of hope in the present. So if Aang was always meant to be hope, then he was always meant to get frozen.

Aang = hope is also interesting in that it positions Zuko on the side of the enemies of the fire nation. If Aang represents hope to the world, and Aang represents hope to Zuko, then Zuko is not on the Fire Nation side of the conflict (whether he knows it or not).

The humour in this episode was minimal but very welcome. The old couple was heaps of fun, Sokka got a couple of good lines (although never enough - still waiting on a Sokka episode), and the juxtaposition of humour and very serious themes was artfully handled. It was never jarring or tonally off. The switching back and forth between the two story threads was well done too, especially how they tied in at the end.

I'm kind of annoyed that Katara got relegated to shouty defender of the actually-a-little-bit-guilty or Agony Aunt. She deserves better. I'm not at all annoyed that Momo filled the role of cuddle administration. That was lovely to see.

It didn't even occur to me to check if the art/animation in this episode was pretty. That's usually a primary concern with me, but I was too wrapped up in the plot to notice.

I can't believe a kids' show went there, but they did. And they did it well. This episode felt much longer than 20-ish minutes, in a good way. It was packed. Definitely going on my rewatch list.

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #the storm #avatar the last airbender

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elvisabutler · 1 year

Text

like fallin' into a river

summary: time apart can do a lot of things, including help your now husband learn his way around a woman. you'd be more angry if you didn't reap the benefits. fandom: austin butler | elvis ( 2022 ) | elvis presley rating: m pairing: austin!elvis ( 60's variation ) x female reader word count: 1078 ( i know, shocked me too. ) warnings: talk of previous break ups. p in v sex ( unprotected, wrap it before you tap it ). oral ( female receiving ). 60s elvis. squirting. minor bit of praise kink. author's note: so this is the double dip for day eighteen: squirting with austin!elvis. this was going to maybe be 50s elvis ( because @blurredcolour exists to encourage me to write starry-eyed 50s elvis always ) but then ruby bell was like i'm going to post this pic and ruin ally's life. so!!!! 60s elvis, my favorite little ken doll won out. this is the last piece i had left out of everyone, the main and the double dips and i wrote this so fast i'm a little startled with it. seriously i said it in the professor presley piece but i love how everyone received all of my fics for kinktober and truly i am so thankful so many of you liked them especially after it's taken me this long to fully finish. this was a really good writing exercise for me and put me out of my comfort zone a few times but i loved it so much. as always my ask box is open for requests and we all know i've got like 15 different things in my drafts at any given time so yes. thank you guys and i hope you enjoy! also you know the drill, pick your elvis, the prompt called for austin elvis but you can envision either one. also good lord i'm sorry for the amount of fics i may unleash in the next few days. something has come over me and i may actually make a solid dent in my wips.

There is a part of you that should be offended should be angry at Elvis sleeping around with other people. Yes, you two weren't dating and you were both free people at the time, but there might have been a small part of you- the romantic part of you- that thought that despite the fact that you had called off your engagement all those years ago before he left for the war and then immediately went to start on his assembly line of pictures- that he'd wait. You can't fault him for it though, because you were studying to further your life and in your mother's eyes catch a more suitable husband than Elvis Presley- Elvis the Pelvis- who she figured would have no career when he came back to the states. You've never been so thankful she was wrong though, and while it was a surprise to see Elvis show up on campus you couldn't help but feel flattered by the attention and the fact that he cared enough and you supposed missed you enough to come find you despite you never getting back in contact with him.

There is another part of you, the part of you that's currently spread out on your shared bed with your now husband between your legs licking at your clit with no signs of stopping despite how your fingers have his black locks of hair clenched in between them as you pull ever so softly at them. That part of you? Oh that part of you is so thankful he's slept with other people because you know that've taught him the skills he didn't have before. Skills that have you trying to ride his face while his hands hold down your thighs and hips, preventing much real movement from happening.

"Elvis." His name leaves you lips in a whisper, almost as if that's the loudest you can speak. "Baby- Don't- Want more."

He pulls away his face at don't and want more assuming you meant the words to be put together. You've told him to stop before and not meant it so it never hurts for him to double check where you're at so to speak. "You alright?" He murmurs, looking up at you in between placing a kiss to your inner thigh.

You blink at him once, twice, three times before focusing on his face and answering appearing just a little bashful. "Yeah. Just- Want more than your tongue."

The way his lips curl into a smirk is positively sinful and serves to remind you that once again, the boy you had left behind who you had told to break things off with you had been left behind and was replaced by this rather confident man. He moves off the bed and proceeds to crawl on top of you, his hand moving to pull back his foreskin before entering you, bottoming out as slowly as he could. Your breath leaves your body at the sensation as you allow yourself a kiss to his lips, tasting yourself faintly as you do. His thrusts start to increase as he places kisses down the column of your throat, your head lolling backward to allow him better access. You hear words coming out of his mouth, murmurs about how much he loves you, how much he loves how responsive you are and how he's such a lucky goddamn man to have you. It has your body heating up more than it already was, the praise rushing to your head, filling you with a burning fire that you're hoping he can continue to quench. His hand slides in between the two of you, cupping your pubic mound just for a moment before slipping his fingers next you your clit. You don't need the stimulation, necessarily, usually the brush of his cock against you when he thrusts can do the job but he seems to want to spoil you today. It seems like he wants to wrench every bit of pleasure from you today.

He lets your hips meet his thrusts, somehow keeping his fingers playing ever so teasingly with your clit in a way that has you just dangling on the edge of cumming as you chase that high. Your eyes had fallen shut at one point, too overwhelmed with the sensation of seeing him look at you with love and lust all rolled into one. He grunts something that sounds like "goddamn" and that's what causes you to open your eyes to see his brow furrowed in concentration as he does a particularly rough thrust that has you barreling over the edge. The coil in your abdomen just breaks so suddenly you barely have a chance to warn him your brain only allowing you to say his name over and over like a prayer.

"It's like a goddamn river down here you're so wet. Cumming so damn much." He's muttering to himself but you realize he's not wrong as he's sliding with so much ease and you feel a bit of a wet spot forming underneath you. Oh. He had done it again, wrenched that sort of orgasm out of you that he called squirting. You'd be embarrassed but the way it has him losing his mind, has him thrusting quicker just to find his own release demolishes any ability for you to be embarrassed, especially after he cums, his head falling to your shoulder and biting it lightly with a groan. He stays on top of you for a moment, both of you too fucked out to really care about needing to clean up and realizing neither one of your legs is going to immediately work. When you both have caught your breath and your bearings, Elvis nuzzles at your nose, a small smile gracing his lips. He looks, if you had to guess, pretty pleased with himself. "Ya squirted again. Keep doin' that and 'm gonna get an ego 'bout it."

Your lips purse as you shake your head. "As if you don't already have an ego." You pause. "Keep doing what you've been doing and I'll try and have it happen every time."

He looks at you with a raised eyebrow. "That a challenge, darlin'?"

The only answer you give him is a shrug before you find yourself being rolled on top of him with a trail of kisses being peppered from your neck to your chest.

And it was a challenge, not that you would ever tell him that.

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tigirl-and-co · 6 months

Text

Middle-Aged Man (But Not a Dad (Probably))

Heyooooo, back at it again with a super rough draft for a fic!

inspired by @dballzposting but especially THIS post!

Basic plot summary is Trunks accidentally imprinted on Yamcha like a baby bird but is too emotionally stunted from growing up with the least familial family in all of classic anime to realize that he's being weird as hell about it.

To nobody's surprise, it's a character study! Woohoo!

And before we begin, I wrote almost all of this while dead tired, so it's probably even rougher than my usual rough drafts, but good god I wanted to write this sooooo bad.

Obsession ran on both sides of his family. This was an issue for Trunks, as he'd really fucking rather be thinking about quite literally anything else. But here he was, at the get-together-slash-party-slash-ritual-to-appease-a-big-purple-cat-with-food-so-we-don't-get-blown-up, staring at his mom's ex from the other side of the dessert table.

And praying said ex wouldn't look up from the eclairs he'd never be able to afford otherwise and see Trunks' stupid, stupid eyes staring at him.

But he did.

Fuck.

"Hey, Champ! How've ya been, Buddy?" Yamcha said, in his stupid fucking aging dudebro voice that filled Trunks with an overwhelming sensation of warmth and comfort. He hated it. Yamcha smiled at him the way, Trunks thought, a dad smiles at his somewhat estranged son.

It was probably a kinder smile than his real dad gave when he hugged him for the first time. Not that Trunks would know. Couldn't really see Vegeta's face, too busy experiencing every emotion he could name and also being shoved against Vegeta's inhuman, statuesque form.

It fucking felt like being shoved face-first into a statue, too.

Not like Yamcha probably felt, with his all-too-human physique. There was a softness that covered his features, even though he was still as tough and muscular as ever.

He kinda reminded Trunks of the big blue guy from Monsters Inc. But like, less serious. And very slightly less hairy.

Trunks had been staring too long, but apparently Yamcha was willing to write off the icy glare as a genetic thing and not an actual threat, because he approached the teen with no hint of trepidation.

He stood in front of Trunks and hucked a thumb at the spread of confections behind him. "Yo, you tried the weird cream cake thing? The one covered in chocolate? No idea what it is, but it is good!"

Trunks tried desperately to claw himself out of this conversation with "It's called an eclair cake." He wasn't sure whether or not he had meant to sound that gruff. Either way he sounded too much like his dad, and it pissed him off more.

"Yo, what? They can make eclairs into cake? That's crazy!" Yamcha took pause and then nearly busted his gut, laughing a bit too loud like guys that age tend to do. "But I guess when you're rich, you can pay people to cook up just about anything!"

There! An opening! Trunks knew how to win this conversation and then make his getaway!

"Actually, Yamcha, I think it's just graham crackers, pudding, and chocolate. Pretty simple recipe. I can ask the cooks to give it to you."

Yamcha blinked. "R-Really? That's it?" He sighed. "Well, as much as I'd love to eat cake all day, I really shouldn't." He slapped his gut, which jiggled slightly. "I'm at that age where I've gotta start watching what I eat or I won't be in any shape to show off to the ladies, haha!"

Trunks immediately threw his gaze to his shoes. He fucking lost that interaction, and now he'd have to talk to Yamcha for however long the older man could stand him. Fuck. Well, Trunks knew how conversations worked. He'd seen the guys at Kame House get into it sometimes, and since Trunks was no longer a child, he figured he should talk like that. The ball was in his court.

"Ladies, huh? What... sort of ladies are you into?"

Fuckin' killed it.

~~~

Now it was Yamcha's turn to be cornered. Was it okay to be talking about that kind of stuff with a kid? With someone else's kid? With the kid of somebody he dated?

But he couldn't just say that! Trunks was at the age where he was starting to go after the ladies himself, and Yamcha didn't want to discourage that! He had to find a middle ground, hopefully there was an avenue in this conversation that wouldn't lead to either of Trunks' parents hitting his head clean off his shoulders.

"Um. Your-" NONONONO CAN'T MENTION BULMA. "I m-mean, I like women who..." and how is he supposed to word this? Obviously he's not gonna say 'pretty women' because that would sound so damn shallow, coming from him. "I like. When girls. Can stand on their own... but enjoy having someone around to make their lives easier? I guess?"

He ran his hands through the hair on the back of his head. "To be honest, kid, I'm not really sure anymore! The more I think about it, the more I realize that sometimes people you think should work don't, but the real crazy shi- the real crazy stuff ends up better." Yamcha laughed the kind of shitty laugh you let out when you're nervous and stalling for time. "What about you, Trunks? You a ladies' man? Got a preference?"

~~~

Well, Trunks had been expecting an answer like 'I like redheads' or 'I'm a boob guy' so he was a little unsure of his next move, but he had to think of something to say!

"Um idk there's this one YouTuber I like." Trunks crossed his arms. "So you like women like my mom, right? It kind of sucks that she ended up with my dad."

Yamcha couldn't move. He wasn't sure he was breathing, either. "H-Huh?"

"Yeah 'cuz you probably woulda been a way better husband. All my dad does is train all day and then sit at the table and stuff his stupid face." Trunks put his fist on his hip. "You like watching movies and being nice and shit. I dunno."

~~~

Yamcha was desperately hoping Vegeta wasn't going to manifest behind him and reduce him to ashes. The things Trunks was saying were weird, sure, but the whole family had always been blunt. Trunks probably didn't mean anything by it. Not that that would stop either of his parents from hunting Yamcha down if they heard.

And Yamcha wasn't stupid! He had issues with his own parents, way back when. It's what eventually led him to become a bandit out in the middle of the desert for Chrissake! But he had just wanted to be a dude Trunks could come talk to if he was having the sort of human troubles an ex-evil alien dad couldn't help him solve, and apparently he had been too approachable. Or Vegeta really did just suck that bad.

Either way, oops.

"Hey kid, l-listen! You can't just say things like that!" Yamcha sighed deeply, trying to compose himself. He was still looking around like a raccoon that could hear hound dogs braying, but at least he stopped stuttering.

And then he saw Trunks' face harden even further, scowling angrily. The tykebomb looked like he was barely resisting shouting his next statement, and Yamcha was very glad for that.

~~~

"I'm not a fucking kid! Goddamnit, I'm just trying to have a normal fucking conversation, why are you being so fucking weird about this?" Trunks would have been a truly intimidating sight to behold at this point if he wasn't three-foot-five with lavender hair. "And I was gonna apologize for suckerpunching you that one time when you stayed over, but you can fucking forget it! I'm glad I punched you!"

~~~

The older man knew he had to take responsibility here, because apparently he was right and neither of the kid's parents bothered to teach him the difference in how you're supposed to talk to people outside your own home.

...Thinking on it, neither Bulma nor Vegeta had ever deferred to authority in their lives. Vegeta had a habit of trying to kill anybody stationed above him, and Bulma either screamed until listened to or flashed her tits at someone until she got her way.

Fuck him, maybe he would have made a better parent! Too late now, though.

"No, Trunks, that's not what I meant," he reassured the stunted youth. "I want you to know you can talk to me about stuff, alright? But maybe- maybe not out where your parents can hear? The earth dragon balls can't bring me back again, y'know?"

Trunks looked back up, waiting to hear the rest of the statement.

"And I mean, actually you probably shouldn't say that sort of stuff, because it makes people uncomfortable, but-" here he took the chance of fucking it all up even worse and ruffled Trunks' hair. Trunks didn't even flinch and Yamcha didn't know what that meant. "We're already friends, right? And friends can totally say that sort of stuff. In private."

Trunks met him dead in the eye, unblinking and unemoting. "Okay."

Yamcha chuckled unconvincingly. It fooled Trunks, though. "So, were you actually gonna apologize for that gut punch, or...?"

"No."

"So, what? You were just gonna feel like shit about it your entire life? Until you died?"

"Yeah."

"Haha, okay then! Did... you want a slice of this, um, eclair cake? There's not a lot left!"

"Sure. Can I call you 'Uncle?'"

Yamcha tensed up just slightly, before letting it drain out of him. "Not where anybody who might tell your parents can hear, okay?"

"Deal."

#dbz #dragon babble #my writing #yamcha #trunks briefs #piccolo in the distance losing his shit like 'oh my god im so glad the kid who imprinted on me was normal'#HE WASN'T YOU WERE JUST ALSO STUNTED #fic #fanfiction #dragon ball #my eyes hurt.#LET ME BE CLEAR THAT I LOVE BOTH OF THESE CHARACTERS OR ELSE I WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO WRITE ABOUT THEM #i just. love weird dynamics and fucked up characters who don't know they're fucked up #or like. they're just now sort of realizing it #but yeah alternate title is 'yamcha gets piccolo'd'

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shinakazami1 · 9 months

Text

TBG Shortfic

I wanted to write the meeting after the years I've mentioned on my TBG Davey ask blog (@cake-bread) in this post. It's nearly 2k words long and I do wodner if I should start posting my drafts on my Ao3 Jeueuehw but i hope someone will enjoy this! If you do pls let me know huehue

===

For Davey, the small game con felt like a nice change of pace.

He was happy that the game reception was good but he didn't miss the sense of being overwhelmed and constantly perceived. The days when he still had the energy to respond to emails and comments about his work were over. That didn't mean he wasn't grateful - quite the opposite. After all the delays, seeing the game published and still appreciated helped with his worry of him losing touch with his work.

But he didn't like how much his face was tied to the game. He wished he never uploaded the trailer on his comedy page. Or that he never mentioned it to anyone. Ever since the release of the original mod, TSP became him. He felt a bit sad that his love project made Kevan to be known only as The Narrator. It used to be funny a decade ago. And while Kevan agreed to work again with them and seemed happy, he did seem a bit tired.

At least he didn't judge Davey for destroying passion for his work.

He was worried he lost his own passion, too. Until he went to the con.

The first day went very well. In there, he felt like just a gamer once again. Except for his buds that invited him there, nobody else seemed to recognise him.

It was nice to just be seen as another fan of the media and nothing more.

There were no questions about why the release took so long. Or about what the Bucket meant. Or what got him inspired to create Gambhorra'ta.

Or if The Beginner's Guide would ever get an ultra deluxe release, too.

He sighed. That question was on his mind for a while. But he didn't trust anyone with getting to those games. Especially if it meant changing the engine as it did with TSP - it would completely miss the point of Coda choosing Source. And just trying to add or change any visuals wouldn't work at all.

He didn't even want to consider recording new lines.

Davey sipped on the soda in the red plastic cup and tried to see where he could leave it. With no table feeling safe or stable enough, he decided to go away from the retro game stand and went to his bud, asking them to hold the cup for a moment. Once they pointed him in the bathroom direction, he went there and stared at the long line.

He didn't understand how gamers could share the same bladder but that sight made him wonder if it was why most irl gamer meetings were speedrun related.

Seeing that the line didn't move in 3 minutes, he decided to get some fresh air.

He didn't know how much different it would feel than the dense air inside. It felt like a metaphor for his life but he didn't really have the mind space for figuring that one out. Instead, he focused on how dry his mouth felt, reminding him why he wasn't drinking sweet drinks as often anymore.

He noticed that a few people left the building and went to some sort of a shop in the distance. Based on their age and the alcohol restriction, he could figure out what they were buying, even if he couldn't see the writing.

'I really should go to the eye doctor finally', Davey thought.

The darkening cloudy sky felt like a timer. With no umbrella or even a jacket to cover himself with, the trip to the store seemed a bit risky. But for a small price of a beer or two, his friend would gladly come for him with the umbrella they had. And since he acknowledged the desert in his throat, he knew it would drive him crazy for the rest of the day. And that soda would only get rid of any droplet left on the sandy land.

As he walked towards the oasis, he looked back at the school building the con was taking place at. It reminded him of April 2009 and...

He decided to speed up. He really didn't like how his mind kept shifting to Coda. He thought he was doing so well of late. Everybody told him to move on.

Even he couldn't replay the games anymore.

Feeling a raindrop hit the tip of his nose just as he reached the shop felt like a sign. Whatever it was trying to point him to, he refused to acknowledge.

He looked at the prices of the water bottles and took the smaller one, feeling his wallet screaming. But so was his throat - if he didn't save it soon enough.

He didn't expect the line to seem longer than the bathroom one. He thought it was fortunate that it was due to guys coming in packs. He soon felt disappointed, seeing each one pay for their own drink. What happened to splitting the bill? Nobody liked to wait. So it felt counter productive, especially since this line felt more impatient than the last one.

Maybe it was due to the sound of the rain drops falling on the shop windows, reminding everybody of the weather. In just a few minutes, the school was not visible behind the wall of water. And more people seemed to come in, just to find some nice shelter.

Davey stared at the cigarette packages and tried to read anything off the labels. He knew his eyesight was getting worse but he didn't know it had gotten that bad. For the past 3 years, he spent most of the time behind a screen. Even if he finished most of his work on the game early in the development, he tried his best to support the rest of the crew. So he didn't really notice the change.

He snapped out of his thoughts when the cashier repeated it was his turn. The crowd felt only growing so the line moving felt like a minor thing.

The instant he got the receipt, he opened the water bottle and started drinking. He knew his throat wouldn't be grateful and would still feel dry after it but he wanted to forget about it for a moment. Just like he wanted to forget-

"David?"

Davey tried to dry the water stain off his lap with the receipt to no avail.

An overpriced water bottle, wasted. It brought the storm into the shop.

But something else brought it into his heart.

Even if his name was a version of David, he wasn't one. It was the same like Sam not always standing for Samuel or Samantha. It was a normal assumption to have and he just corrected people on that.

There were a few exceptions, though. And life just couldn't help but torment him about one of them that day.

He was about to turn over when he felt a hand brush his leg. Frozen, he watched it pick up the water bottle and stand by his side.

The last time they did that was at the bus stop over a decade ago. It was the last time they saw each other.

Coda felt just a tiny bit taller now. But the same cold aura was still there.

And the distance felt too small but too big at the same time. Memories felt within reach while longed words got stuck in an already dry throat.

He could only make himself stare at the face he thought he had already forgotten.

His mind felt both empty and full at the same time. Images of every rendition his mind made of this scene played before his eyes but none of them could match the dream-like feel of reality.

There was no anger, no disappointment. There was no shouting, laughing or running away.

Somehow, just standing just like that, side by side, never crossed his mind.

It felt as if he still had a chance to ask if he could stay over for that night. Maybe everything wouldn't turn out to be as tragic then.

He stared at the face but felt like he couldn't see it. As if his gaze pierced through it, not noticing the details or seeing the disappointed face he drilled in his mind after reading the message in the Tower for the first time.

He felt something on his right hand. He quickly looked over and saw a woman offer him a handkerchief. Without thinking, he took it ,thanked her and started to rub on the wet stain. His moves were automatic and he wondered if he wouldn't wake up in a moment with a saliva stain on his pajama pants for the third night in a row. Sleeping in one bed with 3 men was not the most comfortable but it would be way better than whatever nightmare he was having.

But if it was a dream, he had to get the courage. His actions didn't matter in these, after all.

Unfortunately, he knew it was a lie. Reality liked to show its sense of comedy timing and he knew he was the punchline.

"Do you have any socials?", he said, looking back at the other man.

He instantly cursed himself for not going on any other line from the 200+ ones he kept coming up with for the occasion. It still wasn't the worst one he could have said but that didn't make his chest any lighter.

It felt like a test he didn't know the answers to.

Fortunately, life did hold all the pieces.

"Yeah."

"What are they?"

He didn't know how he had the confidence to keep speaking. Maybe this was the way his throat was thanking him for earlier, even if it felt as if it was burrowed in dirt at that moment. He himself felt like he was drowning in some quick sand, getting consumed by the growing anxiety that somehow didn't show up on his face.

"Give me your phone."

The witnesses probably would think that Coda was some sort of a bully. He caused the other man to spill a drink, freeze in place and then put in his pin code and give away his phone without any discussion.

He couldn't see the screen. With how long Coda was typing and looking over at him every now and then, he wondered if the man opened the notes app and wrote anything.

Maybe that was the only way Coda could talk to him anymore.

But he felt there was no backing off. He was ready to face whatever he would be shown. He told himself so.

And yet, somehow, a locked Twitter account with the word 'pending' on the right was not something he expected to see.

Nor did he expect to feel a hand pat his shoulder.

Something about the casualty felt like a stab in the heart.

He would prefer to be yelled at. Instead, the sound of a bell ringing and the door closing filled his ears. He watched Coda put his hood on and join the school behind the waterfall.

Davey did expect that he would in the end get recognized on the con.

He didn't know if he would have preferred being asked about the significance of the Fern or the whole fever dream he had just experienced.

He went to buy another water bottle and a beer for his friend. He couldn't focus on the rest of the con, searching for a familiar figure.

Two days later, the pending button changed into the following one.

He didn't expect to get a 'Hey.' the same day.

Nor that he would ever again be able to say 'Hi, Coda.'

The rainy weather was no more.

But the sun was shining a bit too brightly.

===

#Tbg #The beginners guide #The beginner's guide #Fanfiction #Coda #Davey #It feels like real person fiction but pls it's just the fact game Davey says he made tsp making me do this but it's not The (tm) Man #davey wreden #My writing #Shortfic

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