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perpetual-stories · 3 years

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How To Fight Writers Block

hello, hello. hope everyone is doing well. as you can all tell, this post will be about how to fight writers block.

it’s really annoying to me when I hear people say “oh you don’t have writers block, you’re just lazy.”

first of all, yes, I am naturally lazy. second of all, how dare you. writing isn’t as easy as many think. granted, all you have to do is write down words on paper, but it’s not always easy to find the right words to express what you are feeling, or what you wish to say.

I have had terrible writer’s block for the last few days and it’s horrible! as a business owner or a small writing store, I have to be ready to write and fulfill my clients’ ideas and orders.

it’s not easy. It takes a heavy toll on my imagination, and digs me a deep pit of blockage, drowning in the lack of originality because of the constant writing and repetition or certain phrases and sentences in different projects.

i am making this post in the hopes to remind myself about over coming the dreaded and sometimes skeptically believed writer’s block.

What is writer’s block?

Yeah, I know. We all know what that is, but let me define it.

is the state of being unable to proceed with writing, and/or the inability to start writing something new

some people believe it to be a real problem, others believe it's “all in your head”

What Causes Writer’s Block?

in the 1970s, clinical psychologists Jerome Singer and Michael Barrios decided to find out

they concluded that there are four broad causes of writer's block:

Excessively harsh self-criticism

Fear of comparison to other writers

Lack of external motivation, like attention and praise

Lack of internal motivation, like the desire to tell one's story

How to overcome writer's block: 20 tips

1. Develop a writing routine:

Author and artist Twyla Tharp once wrote: “Creativity is a habit, and the best creativity is a result of good work habits.”

it might seem counterintuitive

if you only write when you “feel creative,” you're bound to get stuck in a tar pit of writer's block

The only way to push through is by disciplining yourself to write on a regular schedule. It might be every day, every other day, or just on weekends — but whatever it is, stick to it!

2. Use "imperfect" words:

A writer can spend hours looking for the perfect word or phrase to illustrate a concept

You can avoid this fruitless endeavor by putting, “In other words…” and simply writing what you’re thinking, whether it’s eloquent or not

You can then come back and refine it later by doing a CTRL+F search for “in other words.”

3. Do non-writing activities:

one of the best ways to climb out of a writing funk is to take yourself out of your own work and into someone else’s

Go to an exhibition, to the cinema, to a play, a gig, eat a delicious meal

immerse yourself in great STUFF and get your synapses crackling in a different way

Snippets of conversations, sounds, colors, sensations will creep into the space that once felt empty

4. Freewrite through it:

free-writing involves writing for a pre-set amount of time without pause — and without regard for grammar, spelling, or topic. You just write.

The goal of freewriting is to write without second-guessing yourself — free from doubt, apathy, or self-consciousness, all of which contribute to writer's block. Here’s how:

Find the right surroundings. Go somewhere you won't be disturbed.

Pick your writing utensils. Will you type at your computer, or write with pen and paper? (Tip: if you're prone to hitting the backspace button, you should freewrite the old-fashioned way!)

Settle on a time-limit. Your first time around, set your timer for just 10 minutes to get the feel for it. You can gradually increase this interval as you grow more comfortable with freewriting.

5. Relax on your first draft:

Many writers suffer form perfectionism, which is especially debilitating during a first draft

“Blocks often occur because writers put a lot of pressure on themselves to sound ‘right’ the first time. A good way to loosen up and have fun again in a draft is to give yourself permission to write imperfectly.” — editor Lauren Hughes

perfect is the enemy of good,” so don't agonize about getting it exactly right! You can always go back and edit, maybe even get a second pair of eyes on the manuscript

6. Don’t start at the beginning:

the most intimidating part of writing is the start, when you have a whole empty book to fill with coherent words

instead of starting with the chronological beginning of whatever it is you’re trying to write, dive into middle, or wherever you feel confident

7. Take a shower:

Have you ever noticed that the best ideas tend to arrive while in the shower, or while doing other “mindless” tasks?

research shows that when you’re doing something monotonous (such as showering, walking, or cleaning), your brain goes on autopilot, leaving your unconscious free to wander without logic-driven restrictions

showering is my favourite thing to do if I may add

8. Balance your inner critic:

successful writers have in common is the ability to hear their inner critic, respectfully acknowledge its points, and move forward

You don't need to completely ignore that critical voice, nor should you cower before it

you must establish a respectful, balanced relationship, so you can address what's necessary and skip over what's insecure and irrelevant

9. Switch up your tool:

a change of scenery can really help with writer's block. However, that scenery doesn't have to be your physical location — changing up your writing tool can be just as big a help!

if you’ve been typing on your word processor of choice, try switching to pen and paper. Or if you're just sick of Google Docs, consider using specialized novel writing software.

10. Change your POV:

great advice from editor Lauren Hughes: “When blocked, try to see your story from another perspective ‘in the room’ to help yourself move beyond the block. How might a minor character narrate the scene if they were witnessing it? A ‘fly on the wall’ or another inanimate object?

11. Exercise your creative muscles:

Any skill requires practice if you want to improve, and writing is no different! So if you’re feeling stuck, perhaps it’s time for a strengthening scribble-session to bolster your abilities

12. Map out your story:

If your story has stopped chugging along, help it pick up steam by taking a more structured approach — specifically, by writing an outline

13. Write something else:

Though it's important to try and push through writer's block with what you're actually working on, sometimes it's simply impossible

feel free to push your current piece to the side for now and write something new

14. Work on your characters:

It follows that if your characters are not clearly defined, you’re more likely to run into writer’s block

15. Stop writing for readers:

write for yourself, not your potential readers

this will help you reclaim the joy of being creative and get you back in touch with what matters: the story.

this is something I really need to do. because of my etsy business i don't write for fun anymore, but instead as a business and a deadline. i'm going to have to pull out my old crappy wattled fanfics or write some new ones.

16. Try a more visual process:

when words fail you, forget them and get visual. Create mind maps, drawings, Lego structures — ideally related to your story, but whatever unblocks your mind!

17. Look for the root of it:

writer’s block often comes from a problem deeper than simple “lack of inspiration.” So let's dig deep: why are you really blocked? Ask yourself the following questions:

Do I feel pressure to succeed and/or competition with other writers?

Have I lost sight of what my story is about, or interest in where it's going?

Do I lack confidence in my own abilities, even if I've written plenty before?

Have I not written for so long that I feel intimidated by the mere act?

Am I simply feeling tired and run-down?

once you identify what's wrong, it'll be so much easier to fix.

18. Quit the Internet:

If willpower isn’t your strong suit and your biggest challenge is staying focused, try a site blocker like Freedom or an app like Cold Turkey

19. Let the words find you:

meditate, go for a walk, take that shower

Word Palette is a great app that features a keyboard of random words, allowing you to simply click your way to your next masterpiece.

You can also try AI auto-completers like Talk to Transformer, where you can enter a phrase and let the app “guess what comes next.”

even though they often produce nonsense, it's a great way to help that writer's block.

20. Write like Hemingway:

And if your biggest block is your own self-doubt about your prose, Hemingway offers suggestions to improve your writing as you go

it's a pretty cool app if you ask me.

it highlights your sentences (if need be) and makes suggestions on how to improve them!

well, there you have it! a lengthy post on how to fight writer's block. now i just hope i can combat my own soon.

like, comment and reblog if you find this useful! feel free to reblog in instagram and tag me perpetualstories

Follow me on instagram and tumblr for more writing and grammar tips and more!

#writing #writing advice #writing tips #original writing #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writersconnection #writersofig #writersofinstagram #writings

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fluffi · 3 years

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SARCOLINE SUNSET I: WELCOME HOME, OUTSIDER :: SOOBIN

pairing: soobin x gn!reader, platonic!ot5 x gn!reader genre: fluff, some subjective angst, bits of humor, enemies-to-lovers, childhood friends word count: 4002 event: #summerscape for @kpopscape credit: @enha-woodzies for making the gfx for this series! show her some love <3 author’s note: i accidentally deleted this post so here is a rushed reupload. it might not be as good as the original because it isnt proof read as well but i still hope the algorithm picks it up, maybe this’ll be good for the post. Also, the second part will be coming out in 15 days. warnings: people disappearing, mentions of burning and fire (further warnings will be released in the next parts as the story gets darker)

THIS STORY IS PURELY A WORK OF FICTION AND DOES NOT DICTATE JAY OR NI-KI’S PERSONAL LIVES AND/OR FAMILY.

part two ->

The blonde stared up at an intricately designed structure in awe, walking forward to touch the sides of it and running his calloused hands up and down its rusted carved wedges. It seemed oddly cliche and unrealistic, but he could feel its story. Every touch of the ceramic pillar provided him with emotion that he couldn’t bring himself to explain.

The sun hadn’t set yet, but he could make out the faint reflection of it settling in the background. The huge pine trees around him were making conversation with each other; their faint whispers and rustles providing peace to his veins.

So entranced in the scenery of such a mystical place, he forgot to watch out for his younger peer. Kicking back into his senses, he nervously called out, “Riki! You there?” His voice, usually strong and boisterous, laced fear today.

“Don’t worry about me Jay, I’m right behind you. Just climbing this fence..and..there!” Riki let out a grunt as he jumped onto the soft grass, looking at his older friend with an innocent grin.

At the sight of his buddy, Jay visibly loosened. It was clear that he didn’t feel safe in this environment, yet felt entranced to it in some way. Riki caught up to him in a quick jog before standing next to Jay, in awe at the magnificent view that they were spectating for the first and possibly last time.

“Is this…the place you were talking about?” Riki was out of breath from running after his peer. He pats the grassy patch below him before slumping onto it, crossing his legs afterward.

Jay took a seat next to him, setting his canvas satchel and leather jacket next to him. “According to the maps and books, this is the right spot. I just want to see if the myth is true.”

Riki clapped his hands in excitement and turned to face Jay. “We’re staying till the sun sets right? I want to see what the carousel looks like at night! This structure is so fascinating. It must be beautiful out here at night.”

“No, we’re walking back as soon as the sun goes down. I do not want to risk being out here at night. People have disappeared from staying too long and I wouldn’t want to worry your mother.”

Riki visibly slumped and turned back in time to see the last drop of orange dip. It was quiet for a while. The singing birds stopped humming their soulful tunes, yet the whispering trees grew louder, their inaudible gossip echoing in the ears of the two boys.

At nine at night, Riki’s mother would call Jay, heeding no response. She would do the same for his parents and his friends. The only piece of information they could provide was that Jay had brought Riki, in his words, to “a magical place”. With no other vital details they could draw from their son’s peers, Jay and Riki’s family agree to call the local police, reporting two missing people: two minors, one last seen in a brown leather jacket, and a taller one tailing alongside him. Both their hairs were dyed in a striking shade of blonde.

Summer’s heat-blasted onto your skin as soon as you stepped out of your sleek white Toyota. It was good to be back, you supposed. Although it was something that not many people would fawn over, you were ecstatic to be home in town.

Leaving at the mere age of sixteen wasn’t easy. After your parents decided that you were too good for a mediocre high school where people cared more about their body count than grade count, they immediately sent you off to a prestigious boarding school in the big city. You were given three days to pack and say goodbye to your friends, the rest of your family, your world. As excited as you were to study in the evolutionary epicenter of technology, you didn’t like how you had almost no say in this decision.

You didn’t return home from high school even after four years of studying at that mentally draining institution. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to come back, you were just so accustomed to life in the big city that it seemed pointless to return to square one. With the rest of the world finally in your grip (or so you thought), you enrolled in a highly expensive university and received a full-ride scholarship.

Perhaps that was your breaking point. Piles of work that could never be cleared must’ve got to your head. No one out there seemed to care about your mental health and well-being. The only reason you were allowed to take a break from the university and return was because of your constant breakdowns that your lecturers called “distracting” and “unethical”. You were hoping that this drop-by in town would give you a physical and mental cleanse.

There was no place as hot as home, from where you had been. The blazing sun scorched onto the road. Carrying baggage by itself was already hard enough, but this heat was immensely torturing. You struggled to carry your belongings while trying to close the car boot at the same time. Oh, a pity. You had just returned home and you were slowly turning into a bundle of disorganization, unlike your previous methodical attitude.

“Need a hand?” A familiar suede voice behind your shoulder sounded like music to your ears as you dropped all of your luggage and turned back to see…

“Taehyun!” Child best friend number one. You were looking at a once-innocent boy with doe eyes who had matured into a fine young man. His hair was dyed platinum blonde and, although younger than you, possessed a flair that was completely unlike his past self. His facial features were more prominent than ever and you wondered if all of your friends had developed as well as he had.

You locked your arms around his neck and embraced him as he took your baggage from you.

“You’re so tall now!” You gasped in awe and looked him up and down.

“Of course I am! A boy has to grow, doesn’t he?”

Speak of the devil(s), four people tagged behind Taehyun, waiting for you to notice their presence. All of them were just as tall (if not taller) than your blonde friend and stood out like a sore thumb. It wasn’t just the height, their hair was also in very...exciting colors.

“Can’t believe you forgot about us just for Taehyun.” Ah, that nasal voice was so recognizable. Choi Yeonjun, second-best friend. You cherished him like he was your secret weapon, a power waiting to be unleashed into your industrial world. Although older than Taehyun, they seemed to be the same height now. You couldn’t tell because his new neon pink hair was waxed slick and puffy which made him look a teensy bit taller than his younger friend. You had seen him around on social media and he was a hair-changing chameleon.

Alongside Yeonjun was Hueningkai, better known as Kai in the friend group. He was the youngest one, constantly babied and spoiled, you could say. He was probably influenced by the rest of his friends too, his hair now in a mossy shade of blonde.

Poor Yeonjun, you completely disregarded his existence and dashed over to Kai instead, eagerly standing next to him to compare heights. The kid had grown so much, you couldn’t tell if you were contented that he was now taller than you or dejected that you had missed so much when you weren’t around.

“Hey, wait up!” Someone from behind called. With Hueningkai and Yeonjun blocking your view you couldn’t see who that one person walking next to Choi Beomgyu was.

Beomgyu, the last friend who joined the friend group. He was always a comedian and never failed to make your day. Although, he didn’t seem so smiley anymore. You figured that it was school stress and adulting getting the best of him. We all had those days; you regrettably knew them like you knew the back of your hand . Unlike the rest of his friends, Beomgyu’s hair was kept in a natural shade of ivory brown. He had never been swayed by the rest of the crowd.

There were so many things to do, so many people to see. You had missed out on most of your growing: having fun with friends, staying up late at night just to watch the stars, dancing on your balcony. You had missed the people too. The town felt different from when you had left it.

“Soobin! Don’t just stand behind, meet our friend! They just returned from the city, right?” Beomgyu ran over to you before giving you a little squeeze.

Who’s Soobin?

“Hey, I’m Choi Soobin. Twenty-one this year. I moved here a few years ago. You must have left before I showed up.” A simple and concise introduction from the blue-haired man. Maybe he was the root of this hair-dyeing trend in town (pun very much intended), as well as the height trend since he was just as tall, if not taller than the rest of the boys.

You briefly introduced yourself but that was about it. You didn’t know how to create small talk, nonetheless with someone completely unfamiliar to you.

Later that day, you wondered if he had replaced you, become another guardian in the friend group. As one of the oldest, you and Yeonjun were always known as the parents of your three “kids”, but Soobin seemed to take care of them equally well. Throughout the day, you watched his every action, how he helped Beomgyu with homework, how he styled Kai’s hair, how he treated Taehyun to his favorite meal, exactly like what you did when you were still around. For once, you felt like the outsider.

Marshmallow Night had always been a tradition here. It was a five-of-you kind of thing, well, the six-of-you now. It had always been the go-to celebration whenever one of you hit a milestone, or was just held for fun. The days of joy where the only thing you had to worry about was whether your smores were burnt.

It had changed a lot over the years, you guys would add some new events to it and remove the ones you guys outgrew, like hopscotch.

You had missed most of its evolution.

Instead of being the main catalyst for today’s event, you resorted to sitting at the side as Soobin took the lead, carrying tables back and forth as well as setting up the fire in a method that the five of you had never used.

Oh, how much you loathed him. You hated his innocent-looking face that spurred out words of authority and boastfulness. You couldn’t stand how he looked so obnoxious with his bright blue hair, his dark brown eyes that held an impeccable gleam. He looked so cheeky, so mean, and worst of all, he had made all of your friends convert to mini spawns of him. Even Yeonjun, the oldest member, no longer felt like the Choi Yeonjun you once knew.

If you could, you would throw him out of your hometown, except that you seemed to be the outsider here. Anyone who walked past would see five people sitting on a huge log, helping each other light marshmallows and biscuits. They would barely notice the one person hunched over on the other side, sitting on the ground, eyes dazed and uninterested.

Occasionally one of the boys would call out to you, either hand you a s’more or ask if you were alright, to which you responded, “I’m alright! Don’t worry about me, I’m having fun.”

Anyone could also see that you weren’t in the zone, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment and be a party pooper. You ended up spending most of the time scrolling on your phone, checking school emails, and such. It didn’t feel like you were back home, it felt like you were on a vacation, on your own.

The commotion had died down, for the most part. Everyone else was either discussing school gossip in hushed voices or making the most of use of their electronic device. You were tempted to join the little heated conversation that Soobin and Beomgyu were having, but you didn’t know who this ‘Chaeyeon’ girl was and either way, you wouldn’t want to voluntarily speak to Choi Soobin.

It wasn’t long before both of them went to do something else, the only sound prevalent being the wood crackling from the bonfire and the occasional chirp of evening birds.

It was a loud, sucked-in breath that drew the attention of everyone, eyes pinned onto the instigator.

Choi Soobin, once again disrupting the peace of this curated environment. He ducked his head in apology and you were about to return to your world when Kai’s curiosity got the best of him.

“Why did you just do that?” His booming voice resounded over everyone else.

You weren’t going to lie, you were curious too. It wasn’t every day you heard a gasp like that.

Soobin looked back up, eyes wide and awake. He was excited about something but seemed to be masking it for the sake of..suspense?

“Okay. You guys know Yongsam Park right?” He put his phone down and tapped his hands on his thighs in a state of urgency.

Now that statement got everyone’s attention. “It’s the flower place outside our town, everyone passes it when they enter. Of course we would know where the place is. Why are you so adamant about it?” Taehyun inquired.

“Well, have any of you gone inside the park? Or near the landmark in general?”

“No. Why would we? There’s nothing to do there than to take pictures of boring flower statues.” You stated.

“See. You guys don’t know anything about the place.” He smirked tilting his head upwards and proudly crossing his arms.

“Could you cut to the chase and tell us what it is already?” Thank Yeonjun for his smart, impatient mouth.

Soobin didn’t answer and merely flipped his phone so you could see whatever was on it. The only words you could make out were “Yongsam...missing...carnival” and something related to the park before he turned it back, away from your view.

“You can’t just say that we don’t know anything about this place then proceed to give us nothing about it.” You rolled your eyes, disinterested in the conversation once again.

“Fine. I’ll send it to you.” Soobin rolled his eyes back as four of the other boys snickered. They loved seeing the two of you bicker.

In courtesy of Beomgyu who gave Soobin your number (without your consent), you received a news article and skimmed through it with eager eyes:

[WHAT’S THE HYBE?]

YONGSAM PARK CURRENTLY UNDER INVESTIGATION, AUTHORITIES SAY 3 days ago

What’s the deal with Yongsam Park? Insiders say that, although bland and boring, Yongsam Park is currently under high-level investigation for the disappearance of a few citizens. The flower-decorated park is the perfect place to take Instagram-worthy pictures and is quite harmless in itself, so visitors were shocked to arrive at the park only to find it surrounded by heaps of yellow tape.

Yongsam Park was developed by Kim Yongsam, director of My Flowers, a multi-million florist franchise that has now spread to Japan and Taiwan. In a 2015 Interview with the millionaire, he mentioned that he had created the park in the inspiration of the rising ootd picture trend, also known as the outfit-of-the-day trend, which he had initially discovered from his teen daughter.

“I wanted to create a welcoming park for people of all ages, but I couldn’t find a suitable place to do it without the budget being drastically high. In the end, my team and I found an abandoned site and decided to build a simple structure with lower costs up there. Props to my team for the discovery of this landmark. The scenery there, especially in the evening, is stunning .” He stated in the 2015 interview with Soup Magazine.

What’s the abandoned site? With the evidence that is still standing, Yongsam Park is rumored to have previously been a carnival. Said evidence is a worn-down carousel in the back of the park, along with piles of other burnt carnival decoration and equipment. With research, Yongsam Park’s site may have once been an abandoned carnival that perished from an unknown wildfire. This may have been the primary cause of the drought that ensued in the 80s, leaving only a carousel and ashes behind. When questioned, Mr. Kim said that he had decided to leave the carousel standing behind the park due because he felt ‘drawn by its alluring glow’, as quoted.

Investigators and the local police have only enclosed the flower section of Yongsam Park because that was where the victims were spotted. They believe that disappearances took place there and are currently trying to find evidence to back up their stance. Most of this new information is not known to the public, however, Kim and his team are trying to keep it that way. The current disappearance count is seven people, the most recent case being two high-schoolers.

The carousel is still open and does not require a visitor ticket, but visitors are advised to take precautions and leave before the sun sets.

TWO MORE BOYS HAVE DISAPPEARED AT THE NOW INFAMOUS YONGSAM PARK 5 days ago

FAMILY OF TOURISTS DISAPPEAR AT YONGSAM PARK, INSIDERS SAY THIS IS THE SECOND CASE OF DISAPPEARANCE HERE 2 weeks ago

JAPANESE COUPLE DISAPPEAR AT FLOWER PARK, NETIZENS CALL THE NEWS A POLITICAL DISTRACTION 3 weeks ago

“Are you seriously...telling us...that we should visit a place where people have been kidnapped?” Yeonjun gawked. “Dude, that’s so stupid. What if we die or something?”

“Don’t say that! I was just curious if you guys wanted to go since it’s so near and since your old friend is back home.”

“It’s a dumb move. I’m not risking my life just so I can celebrate the return of my friend. Not worth it.” Beomgyu huffed.

“Hey! You’re worth it, right?” Soobin glanced at you, waiting for a response.

He was...defending you? His ulterior motives were questionable and you weren’t sure if he was protecting you because he cared about you (cue the puking) or solely because he wanted to go to Yongsam Park that bad.

You didn’t reply and chose to drown out the wailing and chaos that ensued with your friends. You clicked on a related article below, curious to learn more about this lesser-known part of the park.

[WHAT’S THE HYBE?]

TWO MORE BOYS HAVE DISAPPEARED AT THE NOW INFAMOUS YONGSAM PARK 5 days ago

Park Jongseong (20) and Nishimura Riki (15) mentioned to their friends that they would be heading to ‘a magical place’, before disappearing for around a week. They were last spotted walking through Yongsam Park, according to anonymous witnesses. This is the third case of disappearances at the park and both teens are the sixth and seventh people to go missing.

Both families reported their children missing just two days after their disappearance. With this case being the last straw, local authorities forcibly shut down Yongsam Park despite protests from staff and management.

Parents of the two minors refused to respond when called for an interview and HYBE reporters resorted to interviewing the victims’ friends instead.

“Jay’s never been a bad kid. Yeah, he might be late here and there, but he wouldn’t skip class or fly across the country for vacation during school. I just don’t understand why he’s not here with us. He wouldn’t voluntarily disappear.” Park Sunghoon (19), a friend and classmate of Jongseong (who is better known as Jay among his friends) said.

“Although I’m not close with Jay, I know Riki personally and I know for a fact that both of them wouldn’t run away like that. Why, Riki was gearing up for a dance competition that he’s been excited about all year, and now he’s just gone? Like that? Riki has always been like my little brother, and he’ll always be. I just want him back at my side.” A teary-eyed Lee Heeseung (20) says.

Netizens have been complaining about the lack of coverage on this issue.

“Maybe Mr. Kim spent all his money on covering this story up from the mainstream public. That’s why he had to build the stupid park on an abandoned sketchy site.” An anonymous netizen commented.

Regardless, we’ll be keeping our prayers for Jongseong and Riki, as well as the five other victims, to return home soon.

“...you guys are such wimps.” That was the first thing you heard Soobin say when you tuned in to the conversation again.

How dare he say that? How dare he have the courage to call you, someone who moved out on your own at 16 to live in the big, scary world, a..wimp?

“Look, Choi Soobin. I may be a lot of things, but I’m not a wimp. I didn’t say that I wasn’t interested on this trip.” You stand up and blurt out without thinking twice.

The rest of the boys are gawking at you, their mouths open wide in awe and shock. Yes, you weren’t a wimp, that was for sure, but they had known you all their life as someone who could not stand going out into the wilderness. Maybe the big city had really changed you.

“At least someone wants to go! Perfect. We can leave tomorrow at noon, bring your camping stuff!” Soobin grabbed his things and began walking away.

“Camping?” The five of you exclaimed in unison.

Taehyun, the rational member, gasped. “I, personally, wouldn’t mind going to the carousel thing..or whatever it is, but I am not staying the night. Dude, are you nuts?” The rest of you nodded your heads in agreement.

“It says in the article that we are advised to leave before the sun sets.” You point out, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible in fear of breaking this mask of false confidence, when in reality, you were terrified of this place.

Soobin turned back and eyed you down disinterestedly. “Conclusion is that we’ll bring a small backpack, or whatever you guys want to pack, and we’ll stay there until eight. Deal?”

“Seven.” Hueningkai timidly said.

“Whatever you guys want.”

You hadn’t been able to sleep last night. It wasn’t due to fear of the place you were going, rather, you weren’t too excited about having to spend half of your day around Soobin.

What were you going to say to him? You were definitely overthinking at this point.

You know, they always say that the person one hates the most is the one that they also love most. And when Soobin flipped his blue hair back or cheekily smiled, showing his endearing dimples, you couldn’t help but…

No! You loathe Choi Soobin. You couldn’t stand his smile, or his hair, or his height. That evil moonwitch.

“Hey, you ready to go?” Speak of the devil (or moonwitch), you spotted a fluff of blue hair in your peripheral vision.

You couldn’t even muster up the courage to look back at him, merely nodding your head while staring at the white wall.

“Why aren’t you looking at me? Are you...scared?” You could see him wiggle his eyebrows as he made that statement.

That was it. You turned back at him. “Yes I am. I’m absolute terrified. I can’t stand the fact that I have to forcibly spend my precious time around you. It’s like I’m about to voluntarily live a nightmare.”

Woah there, calm down. You had smoke spurting out of your ears at this point.

Soobin’s once excited face fell into one of disappointment. “Yeah, it’s a nightmare having to be around you too. Gosh, the immaturity.” He left the room in haste as your eyes shot lasers through his well-toned back.

Maybe you had gone too far with the insult. He hadn’t been mean to you at all, really.

Then again, he had been mean. He took your place when you weren’t around. Suddenly, you were determined to get it back.

“Hop on the magic school bus!”

“Shut up, Yeonjun.” You deadpanned before leaning your head on his shoulder. The two of you were finally falling back into routine and you couldn’t help but bask in this nostalgia.

You also couldn’t help but notice how Soobin kept on looking through the rearview mirror at the both of you, pupils darting away once you locked eyes with him.

Man, this was going to be a long ride.

2021 © fluffi

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gr-ogu · 3 years

Photo

Hello! As requested, here is a tutorial on how I make my gifs. I would like to preface this by saying there are many ways to make gifs, and there’s no right or wrong answer imo. This is just how I personally go about doing so!

I will be using PS CC 2017, but as long as you have the video timeline option, it shouldn’t matter too much; on any version of PS, you should be able to adapt anything I mention here! You will also need some kind of screen recording software. I’ll talk a little more about that under the cut.

To start, you need the source material you will be making the gifs from! I get mine from snahp(.)it (avoiding links so tumblr hopefully doesn’t banish this from the tags lmao) and I always opt for either 1080p or 2160p. Not all laptops will support 2160p as it’s 4K, but either works great! You just want your gifs to be the best quality possible.

Next is where the screen recording comes in. I don’t use the screencapping method to make my gifs (where you use a program to cap a clip and then load those caps into a stack in PS). This isn’t for any particular reason… it’s just how my friends, (who very kindly taught me to gif), had always done it, so it’s now how I do it too. Personally, I find the quality to be just as good as the screencapping method, and have never noticed a difference between the two.

As I have a PC, I use the software built into it for screen-recording. If you go here: theverge(.)com/2020/4/21/21222533/record-screen-pc-windows-laptop-xbox-game-bar-how-to – you can see how to use the XBOX screenrecorder to record from files you have d*wnloaded. This also works on some streaming sites, but I think it depends on what browser you use. Personally, I recommend Firefox, as that seems to bypass a lot of the blocking and ads that occur when trying to do this sort of thing.

For MAC users, I have been told handbrake works well, as it converts MKV files to MP4, which can then be used to make gifs. You only need to convert part of the file to MP4 depending on how much you want to gif, and this also bypasses the screenrecording stage, as you can edit MP4 clips on Quicktime. I am told you can split them into smaller clips by going to edit > trim and it saves the new clip!

I have also used anyvideoconverter for small clips, but I can’t say what it does to the quality of your video, or how big of a file it lets you put in! With the XBOX screenrecorder, it doesn’t matter what type of video files you get, as the recording will save to MP4 anyway.

LOADING YOUR FRAMES

Now, go ahead and record whatever clips you want to gif. Make sure you have the video timeline open, by going to window > timeline. Then, go to file > import > video frames to layers.

Next, select and open your clip from where it has saved (with the XBOX recorder, it saves in video > captures). You should see a little window pop up, where you can move the sliders back and forth to clip your recording to whichever part(s) you specifically want to gif. I recommend trying not to load a lot of frames into photoshop at once, but I would be a hypocrite to say that, since I do it a lot lmao. Just be patient if you do!

Once you have chosen the length, click okay. Never, EVER, I repeat NEVER click the button that says “limit to every __ frames”. This really ruins the flow and quality of your gif—it’s better to have shorter, but smoother gifs, I promise. And with tumblr’s new 10 MB limit, it shouldn’t be a problem anyway!

Then, your frames should open up. What we want to do is make them into a smart object, so we can edit all the layers at the same time. To do this, click the small button in the left-hand corner. ALWAYS click this first. If you don’t, it will only convert the first frame to a smart object and the gif won’t work.

Give it a second to sort itself out, then, on the right-hand side, select all your frames at once using the shift key.

Then, go to filter > convert for smart filters. This might take a minute. Don’t click anything else in case PS gets angry lmao, just leave it for a second and it’ll do its thing. The more frames you have, the longer it takes! Now we have our gif, but it needs to be cropped, sharpened and coloured!

CROPPING

You want to start by selecting the rectangular marquee tool on the left-hand side, then drag it across by clicking and highlighting the area you would like to crop your gif to, like so:

What I tend to do is select everything inside the black lines you sometimes get around your gif (this depends on what file you d*wnload), and also the tiniest bit inside the sides. This is because I’ve found if you crop it right up to the edge, you get a tiny bit of transparency on the sides of your gifs, which I’d rather avoid.

Once you have your desired selection, go to image > crop. Now, the dimensions for tumblr are 540px width, so all your gifs have to be that width. However, the length is up to you. I really like big gifs, so sometimes I even make a full square, or even longer. It’s entirely up to you, and what kind of set you want to make.

For the purposes of this gif, I will stick to what I usually go for, 540px by 350 px. This will mean you’ll have to crop some width off, but that’s okay, since Marisa isn’t central anyway. The cropping is always trial and error for me, as sometimes people move out of the frame within in the gif. The best thing to do is just try it, and then move the slider in the timeline window at the bottom to see if the person stays inside the gif, and if not, adjust accordingly.

Next, go to image > image size:

In this box, if I put the width as 540, the gif is a smaller height than I want, as it keeps to the dimensions of the gif when you load it into PS. That’s okay, just put the height you want instead, and we’ll crop off the excess.

Then click OK. Using the rectangular marquee tool again, we need to remove the excess width. Part of the reason I like this version of PS is that it tells you the width of your selection as you do it, but you can always use the ruler as a guide, and check the size of your image by going to image > image size again.

Again, use image > crop, and your gif should now be the correct size!

You can also use the crop tool in the timeline window to crop the length of your gif:

However, I tend to wait until later on to do this (which will be explained further down!)

SHARPENING

Next you want to go to filter > sharpen > smart sharpen.

These are my settings. However, 0.4px is very sharp, too much so, but that’s easily fixed.

Go to filter > blur > Gaussian blur and then set it to 1.0.

Now on the right-hand side, we need to reduce the blur, so double click the little adjustment button, and change the opacity of the blur. I usually go for 20-30%!

Then click OK, and that’s your sharpening done!

COLOURING

I picked this scene on purpose as it’s dark, so good for showing how to colour a gif. I have a base psd which consists of some very basic adjustments, but it mostly exists so I don’t forget what adjustment layers I like to use. I adjust them every time I make a gif, essentially colouring each gif from scratch.

In this case, the psd actually makes it darker. So, what I will do is turn each layer off, and adjust as I go. A lot of people say using lots of adjustment layers ruins the quality of your gif… I have never found this to be true, as long as you are gentle with them. If you whack the brightness right up to the top, it’s going to ruin your gif no matter if you use 1 adjustment layer or 100. I would just say use your common sense, and adjust a little at a time!

I start with a simple black to white gradient map set to soft light, because I think it helps you see depth once you add some brightness to it. I usually do this on about 10%, or more if needed. It’s probably unnecessary, I just like how it looks!

Then, I move onto using curves and levels. This is where things can diverge depending on who you’re colouring. If this person is white, it doesn’t matter too much. If they’re not white, you don’t want to white wash them. My best advice is to play around with it. By adding vibrance and other (usually the red) selective colour settings later, you can ensure you don’t change the person’s skin tone from what it originally was. You can also use layer masks at varying opacities (various shades of grey), on your curves and levels, to remove some brightening so that you’re not changing anyone’s skin colour. Just brighten slowly and check in with yourself honestly about how your gif looks.

Some people don’t like using levels, or curves. It’s completely up to you. I tend to use both because levels are good for bringing depth, even if not brightening (though I like to use them for that as well).

One thing you can do is use the white point of the gif to make PS adjust the curves itself, however I like to drag the sliders myself and see what it looks like. Just make sure it’s not too bright, as we will be using further layers to brighten more, after.

Next is levels. The slider on the left controls the black point, the one in the middle controls the midtones, and the one on the right controls the white points. The black brings depth, the midtones adjust the overall brightness, and the white points produce stronger highlights. Again, you’ll get a feel for how this works as you practice. Just don’t use the white point excessively, especially if your characters are not white.

Then I add vibrance (+20!), because we’ve removed a lot of it when lightening the gif. Next is exposure, which I find brings out the highlight and shadow areas more effectively:

Then colour balance! This helps with scenes that might be a certain colour, i.e. too blue, too green, too red, etc. Moving the sliders in the opposite direction of the colour your gif is will counteract it. The best thing to do when accounting for different colours, is to make a new layer every time you change colour, so that you don’t get confused. I always add a new layer for colour balance and selective colour if I want to change more than one thing. So one for red, one for yellow, one for pink, etc.

A layer of brightness just to make the gif pop, and because the scene is extra dark, I added a very gentle extra curves layer:

SAVING YOUR GIF

Time to save the gif. You can go ahead and file > export > save for web (legacy) now, but then you’ll have to reopen the gif to reset the frame rate from 0.07, to 0.05. Instead of doing that, I use a modified action. The original was made by the very talented @elenafisher! So I do not take credit for that at all. You can find the original here: elenafisher(.)tumblr(.)com/post/190817437374/gif-sharpening-action-2-preview-download and in my resources tag. Please reblog it if you’re going to use this!

To use an action, first make sure you have actions turned on in window > actions. To load in your action, go to the little lines circled, and then load the action from your downloads:

Obviously if you don’t want to sharpen your gifs yourself, you can use the action as it is, and it will give you a beautiful glowing effect. If you’d just like to use it to flatten your gif into frames like I do, make sure to take out all the items I have highlighted:

Until it looks like this!

Make sure you have the layer under the file name highlighted, and then click the play button at the bottom! (If you get a screen saying select all frames cannot be found, don’t worry, just click continue!) You can delete the layer that does that if you want, I just keep it in case I realise I’ve forgotten to do something, because you can click cancel and edit your gif before you flatten it. Of course you can undo the steps to get back to the smart object version of your gif, it just takes longer!

And now your gif is in frames and set to 0.05 already, so you don’t have to change the speed! All you need to do now before saving is change the gif cycle to “forever” in the bottom left-hand corner:

Then to save the gif go to file > export > save for web (legacy). Sometimes, the gif is bigger than the tumblr 10MB limit. You’ll be able to see this in the bottom left-hand corner of the gif save settings. If this is the case, I like to preview the gif, to see whether it would be best to cut frames off of the beginning or the end, or both. When you’ve decided, you can select the frames at the bottom, and in the right-hand side panel, and delete them both using the little bins/trash icons.

I keep checking and deleting frames until I get the gif under 10 MB! Just don’t delete frames from the middle, as then you’ll have the same issue as if you selected “every other frame” when making the gif: it won’t flow!

Lastly, these are my save settings:

So that’s it! That’s how I make all my gifs. Blending I do when the gifs are in the grouped, smart filter stage, whereas text I add on during the framing section above! Really hope this is helpful, please feel free to ask any questions you may have! 💖

#gif tutorial #tutorial*#completeresources #yeahps #chaoticresources #allresources #mikesmom #usergeo #userava #usertix #usersmile #usertom #if you'd like me to cover anything more advanced just shout #i wanted to show how i add text too but tumblr wouldn't let me add any more pics #but people can let me know if that's something you'd want!

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ablednt · 3 years

Text

Actually helpful advice for the kids on this hellsite

Once again tired of "don't make a carrd or tell people your triggers" posts going around literally telling kids it's Dangerous to set boundaries. So here's what I've learned in my teen years on how to stay safe in the hellscape that's the internet.

Identity

You don't have to link all your social media together but you can if you want to. Don't give out something that is more private (like discord account, Skype or zoom account, facebook, Snapchat etc.) publicly or to people who aren't familiar with yet though.

Use a nickname rather than your real name or birth name, an account and name change may unfortunately be necessary so if you want to keep a name safe or use it irl then don't attach it to public social media. This can be fun though! Go apeshit coming up with different aliases and names! Call yourself lizard if you want to!

The only thing you absolutely need to put somewhere on your account (or carrd) is that you're a minor. You don't have to give the exact age but I promise this is important because even if there's plenty of context clues that you're a minor if you don't indicate this somewhere clear and adults start treating you like shit you need to be able to point out that they're knowingly doing this to a minor. That has saved me from gross bullshit a lot. Yes, people should default to treating people who's ages they don't know as a minor to play it safe but the majority of people assume everyone is the same age as them so you need to make it clear you're not an adult.

Pronouns don't make you identifiable and anyone who acts like putting your pronouns in your bio is unsafe is probably transphobic lmao. You don't have to if you don't want to (and don't mind people not using/knowing your pronouns) but it's safe to put them there most of the time. (The only exception I can think of is if you're closeted and your parents may find your account but in that case you should probably stay closeted online to unless you feel safe/know they aren't likely to find your account.)

You don't have to list every privilege you have and you probably shouldn't but if you're white you probably should indicate this somewhere. This is to hold yourself accountable because yes even teenagers can be racist and underaged people of color also deserve to feel safe. If you're nonwhite and don't feel safe doing so you don't have to list your race or ethnicity.

If you're part of a system/plural or questioning you do NOT have to say your systems origins, if you have DID/OSDD, or list your headmates/alters. The system community has a lot of people in it (and singlets adjacent to parts of the community due to bullshit discourse groups welcoming them) who will target underaged systems to fakeclaim them or harass them etc. I suggest having everyone use aliases/nicknames on a system account and you only tell your origin to people you feel comfortable around and safe with. Your safety and privacy is more important than your trendy system carrd goals I promise!

You shouldn't really just list any disorders you have but it really does no harm to put marginalized identities you're proud of on a carrd or in your bio. You might get a shitty anon or two but I promise people aren't going to dox you if you say you're autistic on your carrd or something.

I personally wouldn't list any special interests that are particularly recognizable (popular media should be ok but more niche stuff may not be) or publicly share a kin list just because you never know if you'll want to switch up your identity online to feel safe and the more things are clearly tied to your current nickname and handle the harder it will be to do this. However if you feel safe doing so it's not the end of the world. Just be careful about it and don't feel pressured to give more info than you're comfortable giving.

You do NOT need to tell people your trauma in order to tell them your triggers. If you need something tagged with a tw you really should indicate this somewhere so people know to tag it (unless you intend to send every you're mutuals with an anon with what to tag which is also an option but may be difficult) but you shouldn't tell them your trauma or medical history to justify it. Your boundaries aren't up for debate and you have nothing to prove. You should only talk about your trauma if you feel safe doing so (and even then please don't give identifiable details like.names of people involved or specifics as that can cause serious problems.)

Boundaries & etiquette

DNIs are good! BYFs are good! Anyone who tells you that they're not good or useful is absolutely trying to disrespect your and other people's boundaries. You can and should make a DNI and list the people you don't want to interact with. (Generally it's better to say groups rather than specific people or names because it's easier to again not be recognized if you need to change accounts/aliases but you can do this if you have strong reasoning and absolutely have to to feel safe.)

DNIs (and also.trigger lists) don't have to all be bad things! You can put fandoms that make you uncomfortable, things that trigger you but aren't bad inherently, etc. on these lists. They're about helping you feel safe not having the hottest takes or being the most morally correct.

Some people you should put in your DNIs as a minor are proshippers/anti-antis and MAPs. Both of these groups have been proven time and time again to groom minors online so the earlier you get away from them the better.

Once you have your DNI please do be aggressive in reinforcing it! Block people who break your DNI, tell people who complain about your DNI to fuck off! Do not tolerate people trying to debate the boundaries You have set this is your corner of the internet to feel safe! They can go somewhere else! Being blocked by a kid on the internet is not the emotional blow abusers act like it is. You're not mean for having boundaries please internalize this and stand up for yourself!

If other people have a DNI you need to check that before following them this is for both your own safety and theirs. If you're unsure what something on someone's DNI means ask around to find out before following just in case.

Do NOT get involved in discourse! This doesn't mean you can't ever take part in or boost serious things. Discussing/calling out bigotry (racism, ableism, transphobia, etc.) isn't discourse. Sometimes callout posts for legitimately harmful people is necessary so that's not automatically bad. But I'm taking about the shit that's #discourse. Stay out of ace discourse. Stay away from syscourse. Don't debate with terfs or transmeds or shitty people. I know it seems like it'd be cathartic to win debates with shitty people, I know there's people who will try to bait you into the latest argument over which lgbt+ identities can say what slurs or whatever the fuck the pointless bad faith argument is, and I know you want to prove that your marginalized identity doesn't make you a bad person like bigots say it does. But as someone who's mental health was absolutely destroyed by discourse as a teen it's not worth it. By all means discuss issues as they arise, broaden your perspectives and horizons, etc. but don't engage knowingly in discourse it will save you so much trouble in the long run.

Try to avoid talking to adults 1x1 if you can avoid it! It's okay to dm with an adult you feel safe talking to sometimes and while it's certainly okay not to interact with adults at all if you don't feel.comfortable it's generally okay to do so. But if an adult is going out of their way to consistently talk to you in private needlessly that can be a red flag. If an adult tries to insinuate that they're the only adult around you can trust that's DEFINITELY a red flag. Basically talk to people in places you can easily involve others if needs be. If someone sends you a dm that makes you uncomfortable screenshot it in case you need to show someone etc.

Don't discuss NSFW things with adults, in spaces adults have easy access to (for example a discord server open to all ages), or even with other underaged people who haven't indicated they're comfortable with it. There's nothing inherently wrong with being aware of nsfw stuff or experiencing sexual attraction as a teenager but it's very important that you don't put yourself in situations that may be unsafe for you or others. Most good discord servers have rules against this for this exact reason. Now, to make it abundantly clear, if you did or do ever say something nsfw and an adult takes advantage of this or responds in a way that makes you uncomfortable this is NOT your fault! The responsibility falls on adults to act appropriately but it's still a good idea to keep youeself out of harms way.

That's basically it on a general level. Once again, posts telling you not to make DNIs or carrds or trigger lists (all used to set clear boundaries) are very suspect and either grossly misunderstand how these things work or are intentionally demonizing them in order to have more opportunity it excuse to do harm. Setting clear boundaries is good. Doing things that help you feel safe and respected is good. Just don't go and get involved in discourse or give out personal information or anything.

#online safety #internet safety #DNIs #carrd #actuallyautistic #actuallyplural #long post #grooming tw #ask to tag

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kingofkingdom-archive · 3 years

Text

1979

Pairing: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x Fem!Reader

Part ONE (Read part 2 HERE)

Rating: T (Teen) - part 2 will be E

Summary: The year is 1979. You need a ride to anywhere that’s far away from where you are. When a handsome stranger in a rustbucket pickup gives you that ride, neither of you could predict any of the events that follow.

Warnings: Smoking (and lots of it), mild violence (a punch is thrown), brief harassment of reader, food, mention of a gun (one is encountered but not used), mention of homelessness, brief mention/description of war (Vietnam), child abandonment, mention of abusive/dangerous father figure, passing mention of serial killers, vague description of non-specific events leading up to reader resorting to hitchhiking, very meta mention of a certain beloved space opera

Word count: 5.7k

A/N: Whew! This one has been in the shop for a LONG while. Originally I meant for this to be a single work, but I’ve hit a bit of a slump with the last bit. I decided to post this to see how y’all feel about it! The second part will be much longer :) Also: I know there has been some discourse recently about Din’s characterization in certain fics, so I hope this does him justice for you! I’m always open to comments, and like I said I’m very interested in hearing what you think! As per usual, no use of Y/N and please heed the tags/warnings.

8:47

You lean against the streetlight, glancing down at your watch and then back up to the motel across the street. You told yourself you'd wait until 8:30 and then you'd go back and reserve a room for another night. As you watch the second hand wind its way around the small, plain face of your 2-dollar timepiece, you've convinced yourself that maybe staying out until 9 is the ticket.

Your ticket, out of this shithole town.

The summer air is hot and thick around you. It's especially unbearable both between your legs and at the band of your bra, the elastic stretched around your middle doing its best to make you feel as sweaty and uncomfortable as possible. At least you're wearing your cutoffs, giving your legs the chance to breathe. You've also got a loose tank on, which flutters in the sticky wind as cars pass you by.

8:51

Your thumb has been stuck out for passerby to see for the past three days. No one has picked you up. You suppose you should be more wary of taking lifts from complete strangers with all the murder and kidnapping that's been in the news recently, but you're more than a little headstrong with a dash of stupid to go along. That's what your mother always told you, anyway.

Some Cadillac speeds past you, blaring what you think is a Donna Summer song, and you watch as the music and taillights fade into the night.

You shouldn't be surprised, you figure, as the minutes continue to tick on by. There's a gas shortage, you reason with yourself as you bend down to pick up your bag, thumb still stuck out, elbow resting on your waist. People don't do this anymore. Afraid of getting picked up by a pervert or a killer. Afraid of picking one up, and then a streetlight just like the one you're under is the last thing they see.

8:58

You sigh, ready to head in for the night. Marvin, dude who sits at the motel's front desk, is sure to give you shit about it again.

You're preparing to cross the street when you hear the low growl of a pickup truck approach. Not looking to get creamed by some fuckin' rusted-out GMC, you step back onto the curb where you'd been posted.

Except the truck slows up, and the window rolls down as it crawls to a stop in front of you.

Your heart races. Finally.

You walk up to the passenger side window and look in, expecting some fat old putz looking to get some tail in exchange for a ride.

That's not what you see.

"Need a lift, young lady?"

The truck's driver is older than you, sure, but you were wrong about pretty much everything else. He's got short dark hair and a 'stache, with some stubble across his chin. He's wearing a leather jacket over a plain gray tee, with a pair of sunglasses hung on the collar. One hand is on the wheel while the other is laid across the back of the bench seat, a cigarette perched in between his first two fingers.

You lean forward on your tiptoes as best you can, forearms resting on the door's open window. Pretending to survey the interior, you look around and take the opportunity to check the man out. God, you think. I wouldn't mind giving him whatever he wants in exchange for this ride. Maybe another kinda ride. Ha!

"As it turns out, I do. You offering?"

You rest your chin on your arms and give him the sweetest smile you can muster. The man eyes you up and takes a drag from his cigarette. You watch with rapt attention as he inhales deeply and then exhales the smoke out through his nose.

This guy's got you all hot and bothered and you haven't even gotten in the truck.

He gestures with his hand. "Come on, kid. I gotta make the state line by midnight."

You definitely like the sound of that. Eager and supremely stoked to finally have a way out of this dump, you pull on the handle, jump in, and swing the door closed behind you. Your backpack finds its place between your feet, and the stranger starts driving again as you pull your seatbelt across your shoulders.

"Where're you headed?" the man asks, glancing over to you and then looking back at the road. The asphalt seems to stretch into infinity, flanked by trees and fields and the occasional watering hole.

"Away from here," you chuckle as you fidget with your fingers. Black nail polish decorates your trimmed nails. It's chipped and uneven in some spots; you never were great at painting your nails, especially your right hand.

"I got that," the man drawls, voice deep and smooth like honey. "Any particular destination in mind?"

You shrug. To be honest, you hadn't exactly thought that far ahead. Your first and only priority was a way out, and anything after that was a problem to be handled when it came to it.

"Nope. Just as far as you're willing to take me."

The guy nods and takes a drag. The smell of cigarettes never bothered you like it does some other people; you find it relaxing, calming, especially when it's fresh and all-consuming like it is in this guy's truck. The vehicle itself is old, maybe 10 or 15 years, and a glance into the bed behind you tells you he's traveling with a couple boxes and nothing more.

It's certainly not state-of-the-art, but that's all the better for staying under the radar.

The silence looms over you like a cloud. The stranger seems content to just listen to the engine and the tires on the road, but you're prone to fill silences unprompted.

"What's your name?" you ask, and look over at him. He glances at you and raises a brow.

He clears his throat, eyes moving back to the road. "You can call me Mando."

"Mando?" you retort before you can stop yourself. "What kinda bogus name is that? Like, what... you got a thing for mandolins or some shit?"

The man huffs. "It is what is, kid. Get used to it."

You sigh, crossing your arms. "Alright, alright... Mando."

He doesn't try to continue the conversation, so you don't either. Minutes pass, and then hours, and you find yourself drifting off not too long after the clock reads 10:00. You shake yourself awake, wanting to stave off sleep until he pulls over to rest for the night.

But the engine is like a lullaby, the soft swaying of the truck a gentle rocking motion, and your eyes fall closed despite your best efforts.

When you wake up again, the truck is no longer moving, and the clock reads 12:30.

You must have been woken up by Mando putting the truck into park. The darkness outside does not give any clues as to where you are, but as your eyes adjust you can just make out some picnic tables, garbage cans, and signs.

A rest area. Makes sense.

Mando is fumbling with something beside you. It's a map, you realize when you look over.

"Where are we?" you ask with a yawn.

"Just over the border. Made it a bit later than I would've liked, but that's not a big deal. You can sleep here in the cab. I'll take the bed, since I sleep there anyway."

You nod, though you find it odd the way he's... not asking you for anything. He hasn't mentioned payment, monetary or otherwise. You watch as he folds the map back up, and catch his gaze as he stashes it in the glove box.

"I gotta repay you somehow, mister," you mutter. "For how nice you're bein' to me. 'Specially since I made fun of your name and all."

At your words, Mando gives you a stern look from under one of his furrowed brows. "No, you don't. Blanket's under the seat. Get some rest."

He turns away, grabs the keys, and is out the door before you can reply.

It's just so unusual for a guy to pick up a girl like you and refuse payment, much less not ask for or take it outright. It's a shame, really. Any other guy, you'd give him what he wanted sure, but with less than enthusiastic participation. The one man to whom you'd gladly deliver anything he asked... and he seems not to want it.

You suppose you shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Better a prude than a murderer, that's for sure.

As you reach under the seat for the blanket, your hand brushes against some sort of canvas bag, long and zippered. You lean over to look in at it upside-down, hair brushing against the dusty floor mats.

It's a rifle bag. You reach in to feel at where the barrel would be, and sure enough, there's something distinctly rifle-shaped inside.

Huh. It's not a surprise that a guy like him's traveling armed, but it makes you wonder. A hunter, maybe? Probably. There's a lot of those around.

You spot the blanket and pull it out. It's gray, scratchy wool, but as you pull it over yourself, you find it keeps the nighttime chill away quite well.

You wake up to Mando swatting at your feet.

"Time to get up, sunshine. Gotta get going."

His deep voice pierces through the fog of sleep still hanging thick over your mind. You groan and push yourself up onto your elbows, drawing your feet in to give him space to slide into the drivers' seat.

It's still dark out. You see a hint of light on the horizon, the beginning of the sunrise peeking over hills and fields.

"What time is it?" you ask, rubbing at your eyes. You're a chronic over-sleeper, so seeing the sunrise is a rarity. It seems Mando has no such problem.

"A bit after six. We'll stop at a diner for something to eat in about an hour. You're welcome to go back to sleep until then." He turns the key in the ignition and the truck rumbles to life, a blast of lukewarm air hitting you in the face.

"No, no. I'm up," you assure him, shrugging the blanket off your shoulders. As you fold it, you look over at the man beside you. He's wearing the same faded jeans and leather jacket as yesterday, but the shirt underneath has changed. The sunglasses are still hung on the collar, but now it's some faded band tee from like 8 years ago.

You set the folded-up blanket on the seat between you and him, watching as he puts the truck into drive and starts off. Before you know it, you're watching the early-morning world pass by outside your window. You kick off your sandals and tuck your feet up under yourself, sitting crosslegged on the seat.

About 15 minutes later, you've grown tired of watching farmhouses and cornfields fly by in the dark.

"So, uh..." you start, not really knowing where you intend to finish your sentence, "you like music?"

Stupid. That was stupid.

Mando chuckles. "Yeah."

"Yeah?" you reply, hopeful that he might have more to say.

"Yes. I do like music."

You roll your eyes. "What kind of music? Jazz? Opera? Country-western? Who's your favorite artist? Got any favorite records?"

He glances over at you, a hint of a smile tugging at the edge of his lips. "You sure do ask a lot of questions."

"Well, I figure if I'm gonna be traveling with you for a good while, I might as well know a bit about you. And vice versa."

Mando just hums.

"I'll tell you mine, then," you inform him, grinning widely now. "My favorite record right now is Parallel Lines. By Blondie, you know? I really like them. This time last year I woulda told you my favorite album was something by Wire or the Sex Pistols - I was real into punk, if you know anything about it. Now I'm more into poppy stuff. I just think it's fun, to be honest."

You continue to ramble to Mando well into the drive. The sky grows lighter and the road grows more crowded, but he does not stop you. At the end of a tangent about Bowie, you turn to look at him, and he's sitting there like you haven't just talked his ear off for the past twenty minutes.

"Sorry. I jus-"

"Don't apologize. It's... I don't mind," he interrupts, not taking his eyes off the road.

You stretch your legs out in front of you, looking at the sandal-shaped marks on the tops of your feet. "Don't you have any particular songs you like?"

Mando's quiet for a minute. You wait, looking up out the window. The sky is a pale pink and blue, with a hint of orange off to the east. A field of cows comes up on your left - your eyes track them as they pass by, wondering what it's like to pet one.

You bet they're soft. Soft and cuddly and so dumb they're cute.

"You have to promise not to laugh."

The words come as a surprise. You look over to Mando, eyes wide and interested.

"Never. Favorite music is sacred."

He sighs. His grip tightens on the wheel, like sharing even a small part of himself causes him distress.

"Tapestry. Carole King," he says, though the words are quiet and guarded.

That wasn't the answer you were expecting. "Really?" you ask, smiling brightly.

He just nods, though he spares a glance towards you, like he's gauging your reaction. You lean back against the seat, turning towards him more fully.

"I wouldn't have guessed. Color me surprised, Mando. You have good taste." It's true. The album's a classic, though more so with girls your age, not guys who pick up hitchhikers and keep rifles in their trucks. "What do you like about it?"

Mando shifts, bringing his left arm up to rest on the door, elbow propped so his head can rest on his hand. "Not sure. She writes a good song, that's all I know."

You're not satisfied with that answer. You'll get to know Mando, even if it's like pulling teeth. "Bull-shit. Pink Floyd writes a good song. Paul Simon writes a good song. Why her? Why that record? It came out like ten years ago, there's gotta be a reason - a real reason - you still like it."

The drone of the engine and the road is like a soundtrack in itself to the silences that loom heavy before every sentence he speaks. You wonder when the last time he really got to talk to someone was - talk like this, not small conversation with the waiter or grocer.

You're no psychiatrist, but it doesn't take a genius to spot someone who's been alone for a while.

Mando hums. "I guess I relate to her songs... in a way I didn't expect to when I first heard her music."

You smile at that, pleased as punch that he trusts you with that information. It's like cupping cool water in your hands on a hot summer's day, fleeting and precious. "What's your favorite song on the record?"

He turns his gaze to your for a moment, dark brown eyes staring at your dirty feet and day-old shirt and messy hair. You're not sure what exactly he sees as he takes you in, but you sit there and allow it regardless.

Mando looks back to the road, watching the small town approaching slowly on the horizon. "I Feel the Earth Move."

You nod. "A classic."

He just hums in response, and you expect the truck to fill with silence once again.

Except it doesn't.

Mando reaches out and presses the button to turn on the radio. Blondie's Heart of Glass flows out through the speakers - and you laugh.

The glowing neon sign advertising Lindy's Diner, with her promise of pancakes and eggs and bacon and coffee, gets you more excited than you care to admit. Mando pulls into a parking spot along the street, and you're out the door before the wheels have stopped turning.

Admittedly, you do also have to pee.

You rush into the diner to take care of your business, also using the provided sinks to brush your teeth and the mirror to comb through your hair with your fingers.

It's not much, but you do feel better. Hopefully tonight you can stay in a motel at least, maybe take a shower.

You exit the restroom and look around the diner. Mando's sitting in a booth, smoking a cigarette and looking out the window. You head over, tossing your backpack into your side first and sliding in after it.

"I'll be right back," he says, and leaves. You watch him walk over to the men's restroom, the door swinging shut behind him.

Whatever. Kinda rude. Not like you care, anyway.

You lean back in the booth and take a menu from the stand at the end of the table. The classic breakfast platter is looking particularly tempting, with its hash browns and bacon and eggs-however-you-like. You're contemplating scrambled versus over-easy when you hear a pair of footsteps walk up to your table.

Two strange men stand over you, looking at you like they know exactly how homeless you really are.

"You here alone, baby?" the shorter one asks, putting a grimy hand on the back of your booth, right behind your head. You open your mouth to say no, in fact, I am not, but the other guy speaks for you.

"It looks like you are, honey. Just our luck, a girl like you all on her -"

"Is there a problem?"

Mando's deep voice cuts through whatever it was the creep was planning to say. The low timbre of his voice, normally soft and kind, is uniquely dark - almost menacing - when it hides a threat.

You slowly cross your legs, hoping no one notices the movement under the table.

The two guys turn, and behind them you see Mando, looking extremely pissed. He puts a hand on the back of the taller man's neck, cig still perched between his fingers, and yanks him away from where he'd been standing in front of Mando's side of the booth.

"Jesus, man! We didn't know you were -"

Mando puts his hands on his hips, eyeing them up like a lion might size up its prey. "What? You didn't know what?"

The guy gulps. "Uh..."

"Come on," Mando taunts, something dark glinting in his eyes. "Don't get nervous on me, now."

"We didn't know you were with her, man. Sorry."

Mando shakes his head. "No. Don't say that to me. Say it to her." He nods hid head towards you, subtly positioning his body in between yours and theirs.

You're frozen in your seat, torn between fear and arousal.

The tall guy glances at you. "Sorry," he mutters. The shorter one's still looking at you funny, though.

Your companion jerks his head towards the door. "It's best you both leave, now."

You realize the diner's gone quiet, customers and employees alike watching the exchange with bated breath. The taller guy glances around and turns, heading straight for the door. His buddy hesitates, gaze shifting from Mando to you and back again. Eventually he also turns to leave, following the other one out.

Mando slides into his seat, though he won't quite meet your gaze when you look at him. Noise picks up in the diner once again and you let out a shaky breath.

You're about to say something when the two guys pass by the window. The shorter one peers in, works his jaw, and spits on the ground on the other side of the window from you. You see him mouth the word 'bitch!'.

Rolling your eyes, you turn to Mando to try and joke about it, attempting to brush off the uncomfortable encounter. But he's not there, and you realize belatedly that he's now storming outside.

Mouth agape, you watch as Mando stalks up to the short guy. Jesus, you think, if looks could kill...

The creep whirls around, throwing a fist at Mando before he even gets a good look at him. Mando dodges it easily with a step back, looking simultaneously murderous and annoyed. He winds his arm back and sends his fist flying at the creep's face. The guy stumbles and falls, clutching at what is now a bloody and broken nose, landing on his back on the sidewalk. His friend has long run off.

Mando puts a boot on the guy's sternum, pressing down so he can't get up no matter how much he struggles.

You see him lean down, elbow on his knee, and say something. The guy's eyes widen and he nods frantically. Mando then removes his foot and, without sparing the guy a second glance, re-enters the diner.

He slides into the booth again and takes the menu from you. There's blood on the knuckles of his right hand, but he makes no move to wipe it off. He flips through the pages as if nothing happened. You stare at him.

"You didn't have to do that," you mutter, voice soft and wavering.

Without looking from the menu, he responds. "Yes, I did."

"But, you coulda just... just let him go..."

"I could have," he replies, and turns a page. "But I didn't."

"But -"

For the first time since you both entered the diner, he looks up at you, and you're taken aback the intensity of his eyes. "He deserved worse, kid. Far worse."

He sounds so sure of it that you can't bring yourself to say otherwise. You sigh and clasp your hands together on the table, unsure of where to go from here.

Just then, the waitress comes up to your table, notepad and pen in hand.

"You two know what ya want?" she asks as Mando puts the menu back in its place.

He gestures for you to go first.

"Uh, yeah. I'll have the classic platter with scrambled eggs and white toast. And black coffee, please."

The woman nods, writing your order on her pad. "And you, sir?"

"I'll have the blueberry flapjacks, please. And coffee, black, for me as well."

The waitress nods and turns away. As you watch her push through the silver kitchen door, you realize that maybe you should be grateful for the way things went. That they didn't get uglier.

That Mando was there at all.

"Thank you," you say softly, doing your best to convey your sincerity to the man sitting across from you.

He simply nods, observing you with a look you can't quite place.

After breakfast, the two of you set off down the highway again. Fleetwood Mac flows out through the speakers and you don't expect to stop until after noon, when Mando will have to refuel (both the truck and your stomachs). Until then you kick off your shoes and put your feet up on the dash, window cracked about an inch so the summer wind can flow through your hair.

Despite the rocky start to the morning, the hours pass by easily, weightlessly. Sometimes you talk with Mando, other times you simply sit and watch the world pass by. You don't think you've ever seen this much land in one go, and it thrills you. The idea that there's so much more.

The topics vary from your time in school to movies to the truck. You're surprised to find out that Mando's never seen Star Wars, a fact nearly unheard of to you. You promise yourself that you'll make him watch it sometime, somehow.

Lunch passes without incident; you insist on paying for your ham and cheese sandwich, because Mando had covered breakfast before you could protest. It hits the spot, along with your ice-cold Coke from the little market's freezer. There's a line to get gas, as there is everywhere, but luckily it isn't too long, since you're in the middle of nowhere. Mando won't be able to fill the truck up again for a few days, meaning you'll have to stop for the night earlier tonight than you did yesterday.

You do find something interesting at the market and you decide to shell out the money for it because it intrigues you. A new style of Kodamatic camera, complete with a pack of instant film - 12 potential photos.

In your mind you see pictures of mountains, and the truck, and Mando, and you stuff the camera in your bag before your mind can wander any further down that road.

You have to admit - traveling with someone who you know can protect you if the need arises is comforting in a way that almost makes you nervous. You keep telling yourself not to get used to it, that this is just a temporary situation for as long as he sees fit to keep you around. After he decides he's had enough, he'll leave you, and you'll be on your own again. You can't get too dependent on him.

Nighttime arrives much too quickly. The sun has just dipped below the horizon when you drive into another small town, not much more than a stoplight and a few bars. You get lucky, though, because the unmistakable neon of a motel glows just ahead.

"Thank god," you groan as Mando pulls into the parking lot. "I need a shower so goddamned bad."

Mando chuckles. His arm rests with his hand out the window, flicking the ash at the end of his cigarette out onto the pavement. The orange glow at the end of it brightens as he takes a drag, and you tear your eyes away from his lips before he can catch you staring.

That's another problem. He's every inch as attractive to you now as he was before, except now you know he's nice. The mustache and the dark curls and the broad expanse of his chest are all only made hotter by the knowledge that he likes Carole King and Elton John (he knew all the words to Tiny Dancer) and blueberry pancakes.

Plus there was that whole punching a guy to defend your honor business.

The guy at the motel's front desk reminds you of Marvin. Greasy blond hair and acne on a kid not much younger than you. You give him a disgusted look when he eyes you up, but he cuts it out when Mando walks in behind you. It gives you a small sense of satisfaction to see him so meek before your companion.

"We need a double for the night," Mando drawls, counting cash on the counter, cig perched between his lips. The sign advertised a night's stay for $22. You'd tried to pay Mando your share, but he'd refused your money.

The kid shakes his head. "Only got singles available."

Mando raises his brows. "Really."

The kid, whose name is Matt according to his name tag, nods. It takes Mando a moment to think on it, and then he looks to you.

You shrug. "I'm fine with it if you are, Mando."

He nods once and pays for the room. 12. You take the key and head over to get a head start on your shower while Mando parks the truck and gets his stuff.

The hot water feels divine. Even the towel feels great, because as threadbare and shitty as it is, it's clean and warm from sitting under the vent. You finish up in the bathroom and emerge in a pair of old track shorts and a loose-fitting tee.

Mando's sitting on the bed, back against the headboard. His jacket's draped across the table and he's kicked off his boots, so he sits with the remote in hand, barefoot. It's the most casual you've seen him thus far, and it makes your heart race.

"Shower's all yours," you tell him.

Mando looks at you from the corner of his eye. It's hard to tell what he's thinking at any given moment, so you fidget with the hem of your shirt as he looks at you.

A thought blooms unbidden in your chest. I wish I could kiss him.

You blink, taken aback at the sudden, intense nature of your desire to feel his lips against your own. Not knowing what else to do, you cross your arms and turn to the TV. Bonanza is on.

"Seen this episode before?" you ask. It's an old show, but you still like it.

Mando nods, humming. "Used to watch these every week, right when they came out. Only the first few seasons, though."

"Why'd you stop?"

He turns to sit on the edge of the bed, feet flat on the ground. He gives you a small smile, though his eyes hide something pained.

"I got drafted."

Oh. "Oh. I didn't mean -"

"It's fine," he says and gets up, brushing past you to enter the bathroom. The door clicks shut behind him.

You walk over to sit on the other side of the bed from where he was. Drafted. Jesus. You feel bad for bringing it up, even if it was unintentional. The TV plays though you aren't watching, mind wandering to thoughts of Mando in Vietnam. You picture him in the jungle or in a helicopter, the deafening noise of artillery and gunfire filling the air around him.

Maybe that's where he got the nickname. It certainly explains the rifle.

You reach over for the remote and shut off the TV. The clock on the wall reads about 8:00, still early for you, but you tuck yourself under the sheets and blanket regardless. You face the door, away from where Mando will sleep.

Just as you're drifting off, the lamp on the bedside table clicks off. You feel the weight of Mando crawling in beside you, and he too curls up on his side, back turned.

You fall asleep hoping he's not too upset with you.

The next thing you know, you're awake, though the world is still dark outside. Behind you, Mando snores softly, warm breath fanning out across your neck.

Wait.

You blink a few times and realize the two of you must have shifted in the night. Mando's body is pressed right against yours, chest to your back, arm draped over your middle and hand tucked under your chin. Your legs are intertwined and against the back of your thigh you feel -

You feel him.

Sleep is a powerful drug, however, and the realization is not enough to make you move. Your eyelids flutter shut, and you think maybe this isn't so bad. Your tired brain convinces you to revel in it, to enjoy this position you've found yourself in. Before you can second guess that reasoning, you drift off.

And then you're awake again.

This time it's thanks to a rush of cold wind in your face. You reach back to feel for Mando, but the warm pillow tells you he's not there. You open your eyes to see him standing in the doorway, looking down at something. It's still dark out, but the lights of the motel parking lot put him in silhouette before you.

"What is it?" You lean up on your elbow to get a better look. The nighttime air is cool on your face, smelling faintly of gasoline and rain.

He bends down and picks up whatever it is that's in front of him. You watch as he turns to look left, then right, seemingly in search of something. He turns around and you see what he's holding.

It's a baby's carrycot.

You immediately sit up, heart racing. "Is it -?" you whisper.

Mando nods, closing the door behind him. You get out of bed and rush over to stand next to him, peering into the carrier.

Sure enough, there's a baby asleep inside. It looks to be a boy, about a year old. You bring a hand up to your mouth.

"Why - who would - what?"

Mando shakes his head, staring at the little guy. "I don't know. I heard a knock at the door and there he was - no sign of anyone else."

"We should - what do we do, Mando?"

He brings the carrier over to rest on the table beside his jacket. The boy is out cold - his little hands grip the blue knitted blanket and his mouth is just barely open. He's got dark hair, wispy and soft atop his head. As you observe the sleeping child, you notice the corner of a small piece of paper tucked in between the blanket and the cradle. You reach out and grasp it between your thumb and forefinger, unfolding it carefully.

"What does it say?" Mando whispers. Your voices are low so as to not disturb the child.

"Grogu. Please take him far from here," you read, and feel your blood run cold as the note goes on. "Not safe in this area. His father is dangerous."

It's scrawled in blue ink on half a sheet of lined notebook paper, the fringe from being torn still attached. Your hands shake as it hits you - there's some mother out there so scared for her son that she left him in the care of strangers. That there's a man out there who legitimately threatens this boy's life.

Tears form at the corners of your eyes, rage and sadness simmering in your chest.

"We have to, Mando." Your words are shaky but certain. The man beside you rests a hand on the carrycot, still looking at the sleeping child within.

You turn your eyes to him. He nods, solemn.

"Let's let him rest. We'll leave in the morning, get as far west as we can. Might even be able to make Texas if we leave early enough. We can figure it out from there."

His other hand brushes against your back, and then he's drawing you into his chest. The embrace is soft, unhurried, and you lean your head against his shoulder, hands tucked against his chest. Letting your eyes slip closed, you think back on the previous day, how you never could have predicted this turn of events. How you've never felt so uncertain of things, even when you'd lost everything.

Together you return to bed, but neither of you gets much sleep.

#din djarin x reader #mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #mandalorian fanfiction #fanfic #din djarin fanfic #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x female reader #mando x fem!reader #female reader #fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction

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serenadeonacanoe · 3 years

Text

Honestly, I'd piss him off on purpose. (Namjoon x OFC)

Pairing: Namjoon x Original Female Character

Genre/Warnings: Smut, Angst, Fluff, too tired to beta

Tags: Artist!Namjoon, Yoongi and Tae are the best flatmates, Enemies to Lovers I guess... more like brats to making out in the storage unit, OFC is an idiot.

Summary:

"Wow. Is that that grumpy artist behind you? Jesus. He really looks like a bit of a dick. And you are right. He really is hot..." Oh no. Speakerphone. Namjoon was standing behind me and was staring at me. Then at my phone. He let out a little laugh, then raised his hand to wave at Tae and Yoongi outside who were now also staring at him as if frozen, before turning around in unison. As if that would help. As if he couldn't see them. Or better even... couldn't hear them.

[...]

Mister Darcy has nothing on Kim Namjoon - that new and upcoming artist you probably already heard of (You haven't? How dare you? At least have the decency to pretend you have!). He is cold, serious, and rather good at making other people believe he is a prick. Especially Elizabeth Bennet - uh... Charlotte - is about to lose it because of him. Maybe in a good way. Man, I'd literally piss him off on purpose.

More chapters on AO3

CHAPTER 1

Even the sound of my own nails rhythmically tapping on the top of the counter was annoying me. To be fair, it didn't need much today to blow my fuze that had never been particularly long in the first place. But after a week consisting of being belittled by old white men and endless hours of unpaid overtime I about had it. Welcome to the art world. You know well before you enter that the hours are horrible and the job market is more than frustrating, but you love art and you have good organisational skills, you are resilient, charming when it counts and tend to romanticize things even when you know you shouldn't. It's too late to turn around now.

"That is why I don't use an agenda or notebook. If something is important enough for me to attend I simply won't forget. I know you youngsters are all about the bullet journaling and expressing yourself by mapping out your life but it really is just another way to procrastinate instead of getting to actual work." For a second I considered throwing my damn notebook in the buyer's face, but that probably wouldn't have helped my CV and the new job I would have to look for starting tomorrow. At least I should have screamed at him a little. Mainly, that I didn't care, that I was on my period and my shitty shower in the shitty flat i shared had broken and no dry shampoo in the world had fixed my hair this morning and that god damn it, how the hell was I supposed to remember every phone number, every call my boss had to take, every art handling transport I had organized if I couldn't write it down somewhere. Instead, I smiled. Died a little on the inside and complimented him on the gift of his exceptional memory and asked whether he would like another cup of coffee.

"What a dick." Samantha murmured, more to herself than me, after the guy had finally left, which made me snort under my breath. She usually didn't say much but when she did it was usually pure gold. In the end, it didn't matter that he was. Didn't matter that everyone at the gallery thought the art he had bought from us over the last couple of months had neither been smart nor impressive purchases. Mainly expensive. And flashy.

"Doesn't matter now." I said in a sigh after a quick glance at the clock. It was Friday night and we were about to close. Since it was my birthday on Monday I had taken two days off, about the longest break I had had this year and I was looking forward to being the lazy slob for a few days I was maybe always meant to be. In silence we answered a few last emails, tidied up the desks and counters so that potential buyers that would come in over the weekend wouldn't have to suspect anyone was actually working here. - A white desk. A huge Imac on it. That was all they needed to see, folders and pens and apparently especially agendas to be hidden away in drawers.

At five to eight I threw on my coat and Samantha just gave me a tired smile. Probably happy for me, just exhausted. "Have fun then? Don't get too wasted?" "Oh..." I said with a huge smug grin on my lips. "You have no idea... gonna take a bottle of Moët with me from the bar and drink it in my bathtub after eating a huge pepperoni pizza by myself and dancing to only the finest of 90s Euro Trash." I couldn't help it, apparently, I felt it necessary to give Sam a little demonstration, waving my arms up and down while swaying my hips in a way that I'd probably would not have if it hadn't been for a bit with an audience of a single person. Or maybe two?

A quiet scoff behind me and I quickly turned around, slowly lowering my arms, Sam biting her lower lip at the sight of me standing there like an idiot in front of HIM of all people.

Men didn't have to be old to annoy me. Or white. Yes, those were the ones that pissed me off most usually, but no one had managed to do so as much as Kim Namjoon recently. And now he was standing there, looking me up and down and stopping at my hair. The crazy too-much-dry-shampoo-because-the-shower-broke-hair. "Nice." He just commented and then looked over at Sam. "I'd like to take a last look before Sunday's opening if that is okay?" I stood there, my shoulders dropping, completely ignored.

"Uhm, actually, my babysitter has to leave in about an hour and I will have to be home before that." Samantha replied and I was impressed by how calm she stayed. "Of course." Namjoon said and gave her a slight smile. "Anyone else still around? Chris maybe?" Of course Chris hadn't been in today. It was Friday and unless important guests had announced themselves the owner of the gallery wasn't around on Fridays... "I am afraid not. But maybe Charlotte has a few minutes?" Well. Thanks. Thanks a lot. I felt a little betrayed. "Wouldn't want to keep anyone from their important Moët-Pizza-Dance Party plans." Namjoon replied before I could say a word. His voice once more dropping to a hushed, deep disapproval and his hands buried in the pockets of his rather expensive looking coat. Silence for a few moments and then he just walked off towards the room his exhibition had been set up all week. Showing without a further word that I would have to stay anyways if he wanted it that way.

"Well thank you for pushing me under the bus like that. Really appreciate it." "I am so sorry. But I was serious, I can't lose this babysitter. She got Jamie to eat vegetables. VEGETABLES!" Samantha suddenly seemed in a rush, grabbing her jacket and purse and showering me in promises she would make it up to me. Even though we both knew that wouldn't happen and wasn't necessary. Suddenly having to stay longer was normal. I just hated that it had to be today. And because of him.

I heard the door close behind Sam and I stood there for a second before putting my bag down again. Usually, I would have followed the artist, asking if I could somehow help, but nahhh... my ego was bruised up enough now, especially remembering the little dance. I closed my eyes. Fucking hated the guy. Always had. Well, not quite. I had thought he was cool for about five minutes when he had come in the first time. We had heard about him for quite a few months before, I think I had even seen pictures of him at some point, but those were nothing compared to him in real life. He came in all cheekbones and sharp chin and an all grey outfit, quick pace, observant gaze. Incredibly hot. He had also completely ignored me.

That's how it had started - a bruised ego. He couldn't know that it was my weak spot. Having studied art and its management and now feeling like a better secretary at times, when my colleagues and I were doing all the behind the scenes work while Chris worked very little hours and ended up with all the money and recognition. I was aware this wasn't the only field of work where this was the case, but it still frustrated me... I had imagined my life in the last years of my 20s to be a bit more glamorous than living in a tiny apartment on the outskirts of the city... spending my Friday night waiting for some rude artist dude to leave so I could lock up.

But what I perhaps hated most about him... was that I admired him. - Purely for his art. Really. Even the fact that he kept acting as if I wasn't around every time he came in didn't mean I couldn't admit that. At least to myself. The stories behind his huge colleagues were clever and thought through, but even without context, the pure aesthetics were mesmerizing. It was the kind of art that touched something deep inside of you and standing in front of it I always had a hundred questions. Whenever he brought in a new piece I was the first one to sneak a peek in the back rooms before it was hung.

"I don't get why you have such a problem with him. He is just... quiet. I think he might even be shy... stop being so sensitive and just ask him out already." I had almost strangled Sam for that comment a couple of weeks back. Stop being so sensitive. What did that even mean? Comments like that made me want to cry and scream at the same time, which probably would have been perceived as even more sensitive, but when had insensitivity become something to strive for? I had only kept quiet because I liked Sam and I knew what she had tried to say. At least I thought so. That I might have given less of a shit if I hadn't been rather attracted to Namjoon. Even though I had never mentioned it, she just knew. She knew if I didn't care about something I didn't waste my time on it. But if something made me angry or upset there was usually more to it. I hated that she could read me that easily. But he was still a dick and I still wanted to go home.

He took his sweet time. After an hour I walked up to him, a little speech prepared in my head about how he could come back first thing tomorrow. But when he turned around he just raised a hand between us to keep me from interrupting and turned away again. I hadn't seen that he was on the phone. "No, it's nothing, just one of the gallery employees." I heard him say and okay... if I wasn't about to explode before I was now. I stood there for a minute, fuming, and then simply walked back to the office area, my hand shaking when I started turning off the gallery lights one by one. It wasn't as satisfying as I had hoped but still felt good. Two minutes later the only lights still on were the one above my head and the one in front of the door. I would at least give him a clear direction where to head, he seemed to need it.

When Namjoon appeared out of one of the dark corners he looked even more annoyed than usual. Looking my direction through squinting eyes and his tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek. "Seriously?" he yelled my way and almost walked into one of the little flyer shelves. Wasn't the first time I had seen that happen to him though so maybe that had nothing to do with the light.

I felt oddly triumphant. By the time I had put on my coat and turned off the remaining lights, ready to finally lock up, Namjoon had almost found his way, standing in the open door, still on his phone. A little groan from my side when he didn't even notice that I was standing behind me went by unnoticed. Or simply ignored. But instead of the appropriate clearing of the throat or the maybe less polite squeezing past him, I just put my hands on his back and gently pushed him forward a bit, until his feet hit the pavement and he turned around. Dropping his hand with the phone in it, for a second he looked like he wanted to push back. Or trample me.

"Okay, what the hell is your problem, Charlotte?" His voice was hoarse. His eyes dark. God, he was hot. I hated him so much. "You." I simply replied and stared at him for a second, then turned around and locked the two locks on the door before stepping over to the alarm system. I couldn't help feeling smug because apparently, he knew my name. I imagined him staring at the back of my head because he was flustered, but couldn't be sure. All I knew was that when I turned around again a minute later he was still standing there, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his lips pressed together forming a straight line and watching me.

"Do you always act like that at work around people who could get you into trouble?" He was right, he could get me into trouble. But I was too fired up now, my heart racing. "Is that a threat?" "An observation." "Only around the ones I don't like." "Cool." "Great." "Enjoy the dance party. Sounds shit."

And with those words he had turned around, coat flying open in the wind, unfortunately making him look really cool as he walked away and I ABSOLUTELY HATED HIM. I kept my mouth shut and just walked off in the other direction, realizing minutes later that my car was parked the other way, but I kept walking for a while before I finally turned around. It took a while to calm down and only cuddling up to my cat on the couch to trash tv finally did the job. But by then I had realized something I wasn't sure I liked too much. Yeah, I thought he was a prick. And yeah I should have just played it cool. Would have been much smarted in many regards. But I also had somewhat enjoyed myself in the most fucked up way.

Seeing that stern look, that intense posture as he was towering over me... man, I'd literally piss him off on purpose.

More chapters on AO3

#namjoon fanfic #bts fanfic #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon angst #namjoon fluff #artist!namjoon

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cassiabaggins · 3 years

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Understanding

A/N: This is my first Fili x reader fic, so please be nice! It’s adapted from a scene between Fili and my oc that I never used in my original story but still wanted to share. I hope you all enjoy and please reblog and leave a comment if you can!

Warnings: descriptions of an approaching meltdown that never happens

Wordcount: 1395 | Pairing: Fili x Autistic Fem!Reader

Summary: The Company stops at an inn one night, and you find it exhausting and overwhelming

Tags: @beenovel @rowandor @claraofthepen @annkdarar @curiosityunsated @myrin1234 @guardianofrivendell @frogmuttforever @swillowraven @lexdrillo @clownkid246 @classynerdchick @anjhope1 @legolaslovely

"There's a town about three miles ahead," Balin says, peering at his map. "We could stop there for the night, resupply."

Thorin strokes his beard. "Aye, that sounds good." He calls the change of plans back to the Company, and you frown. You aren't the biggest fan of towns, they always end up being exhausting and loud. Overwhelming. But the plans are final, and everyone else seems delighted by the turn of events. You sigh, and resign yourself to an exhausting evening.

The town is just as bustling and loud as you feared, carts and people and horses rushing here and there, shouts ringing out from a marketplace. A dog sprints through the legs of your mount, causing her to startle. You steady her, the suddenness of the event causing your heart to race. You can't wait to get inside the inn… but inside turns out to be just as bad. The cacophony coming from the bar area is physical to you, slamming against your ears, and once the fifteen of you venture into the crowd, it quickly becomes too much. You clap your hands over your ears and let out a panicked little sound as some stranger jostles you. You aren't paying attention to the others as Thorin negotiates for room and board, just concentrating on staying calm.

You all sit down at a corner table, waiting for the rooms to be readied. You rest your head on the cool wood, trying to relax. A warm hand lands on your elbow and you look over at Fili. His lips are moving, but you really can't hear him. You glance briefly up at his eyes, look back down at his chin, and shrug to show you haven't a clue what he's said. His lips curve into a frown. He turns to Thorin and they exchange words and a small object, and then Fili takes your elbow and gives a little tug. He leads you out of the crowd and up the stairwell to the second floor of the inn, out of the crowd and noise. He stops before a door and turns to you and you take your hands off your ears. "Sure was loud down there," he says, holding up a key and unlocking the door. "I suppose you want to turn in early?"

Your heart warms at his kindness. "I do. I dislike crowds."

He grins at you. "Me too. They make my skin crawl."

"So many people, all yelling? Please no!" You say with exaggerated horror. Fili laughs and holds out the key.

"Here. Turn in for the night. The barmaid said they drew us all baths, as well. She said it was all ready for you. I also asked for them to bring you up a meal."

You open your mouth to reply but are interrupted by the rest of the Company trooping past. Kili comes over and slings his arm around Fili's neck.

"Fili! After cleaning up Uncle said we could have some fun! The bar is open all night!"

Fili pushes off Kili's arm. "Stop," he says bluntly. "I don't want to be touched right now."

Kili takes the command with grace. "Sorry," he says. "But will you come down and have a drink with me? You're invited as well, Y/N!" He adds with a grin to you.

"Not tonight, Kili," you reply. "I think I'll just turn in." You can feel your exhaustion making everything around you feel overwhelming, but are trying to stay civil. It's not his fault.

Kili looks disappointed, but turns his attention to his brother as you slip into your room and shut the door.

It's dark and quiet inside, a peaceful respite from the rest of the world. You survey the room, getting your bearings before entering further. An oil lamp burns on a low table near the bed immediately across from you, a window above the headboard. A chest of drawers is pushed against the wall to the left of the door with a small mirror hanging above it. A room divider separates a corner of the room, near a crackling fireplace. You can see the edge of a bathing tub around the three sectioned divider. You quickly lock the door and drop the key on the dresser, placing your pack on the bed and peeking around the divider. The bath is full to the brim with clean, steaming water, a bar of soap and a bottle of hair oil on a low table beside it, along with a pitcher, a clean cloth, and a towel.

Your companions will either have to use the city's public cold baths or take turns for a warm one but you… you get the luxury immediately. You strip down quickly and hop into the tub, sinking down into the warm water.

You take your time getting clean, relaxing in the silence, before the water begins to go cold. You step out of the tub, dry off, and dress. The bed looks beyond inviting, the soft sheets, the plush pillows… you're mere seconds away from diving in and falling asleep, when a knock sounds on your door.

It's a polite knock, but somehow the most grating noise you've ever heard, like a thunderclap in the quiet room. You grit your teeth against the urge to scream "go away!" and move to the door. Upon opening it, you're immediately grateful you didn't yell, as Fili is standing outside with a tray of food.

"Sorry to bother you," he says immediately. "I was just bringing you supper."

You look down at the tray. It's piled high with food, seeming to be two of everything. "I can't eat all that," you say.

"I know," he replies. "Half of its mine. Can I hide from Kili with you?"

"Why?"

"He's trying to get me to come down to the tavern and I really, really don't want to. It's so loud and exhausting down there and all I really want right now is a quiet night. He even likes the commotion and doesn't understand that I just need to get away from it right now!"

He sounds genuinely distressed and you get the feeling this is a common argument between the brothers. While you too want a quiet night, you take pity on Fili and open the door wider. "Come in."

The smile he responds with his blinding.

Luckily, Fili is probably the least exhausting person to spend time with. He's quiet and predictable and doesn't ask exhausting questions as most of the Company tends to do. He doesn't say much, setting the food out on the rug before the fire as you sit on a pillow and watch him. Finally he sits down and holds a buttered roll out to you. You take it gratefully and you eat together in relative silence, broken only by the occasional "can you pass that?" There's a quiet camaraderie in the activity.

"Kili can be exhausting," you say between sips of wine at the very end of the meal. Fili nods in agreement, tugging absently on one of his mustache braids.

"He can."

"They all can," you add.

Fili nods again. "It's hard to make people understand when I need quiet time," he says. "When I was younger I would always cry and scream when it got too overwhelming."

"Me too!" You say enthusiastically, sitting up straighter. "Sometimes it's as if everything is too much and I just need to yell! But I can't because I'm an adult."

He looks over at you. "Exactly! I know exactly what you mean!"

"Sometimes, things are hard for me to handle," you continue, "even little things. And then I cry about them. Do you ever feel like that?"

He nods. "Yes. I do." He meets your eyes. "I've never… I've never told anyone that before," he admits.

"Not even Kili?"

Fili waves his hand dismissively. "He already knows. But he doesn't understand. You do."

You smile and scoot closer to him. "I do. I suppose we're more alike than we thought." Suddenly overwhelmed with affection for him, you lean over and press your head against his shoulder in affection. He presses back, seeming to understand. "I like you, Fili," you say.

"I like you, too," he replies happily and the two of you lapse into a peaceful silence, secure and happy in your understanding of each other.

#fili x reader #fili x reader fic #fili #the hobbit #my writing #the hobbit fanfiction #reader insert #fili x f!reader #kili #thorin oakenshield #balin #fili fic

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champion-leon-imagines · 3 years

Text

Chronicles of Galar - Prologue 3: Y/N L/N

The Chapter you all waited for. Don’t worry, we’ll get to your past soon enough in the story, so stay tuned. Amila is a fake region my best friend made. He is also your brother in the story and the Professor of Amila. And don’t forget to save the tag Chronicles of Galar for updates ^_^ You can also find the story on AO3: Here

[Prologue: Y/n L/n]

Light footsteps echoed through the darkened Slumbering Weald, Galar. You tried to make your way through the thicket and a white Vulpix kept you company. The little Pokemon had a very shy and timid nature and was trembling with fear all the time. The unknown has always had a tense effect on the pre-stressed Pokemon. No wonder, when you thought about what those monsters from Team Skull in Alola must have done to it. You didn't want to think about that anymore and took out your smartphone to dial your brother's number. "Yes? [Y/n]? Man, we're looking for you everywhere. We were supposed to meet at Wedgehurst station. Are you lost again? " a male voice sighed at the other end.

“What does 'again' mean here? Sorry for not memorizing the entire map of a new region the first time I explore. Not everyone can have such a photographic memory as our Professor Mamoru [L/n]. ”You countered jokingly. "Very funny. Where are you?"

"If I'd know that. There is a forest here. I followed a little Pokemon that I don't know yet. That was so cute. Such a small blue creature, a bit similar to Ralts, with pigtails. I HAD to go after it, that's why I ran after it. "You explained, describing the Pokemon Hattrem, the intermediate form to the Pokemon Hatterene, a Galar Pokemon with the dual types fairy and psycho.

".... You walked into an unknown forest because of a 'cute' Pokemon?" Mamoru sighed and covered his face with his hand. That was just so typical of you.

"Pff. If it had been a new Arcanine Pokemon, you would have done the same. ” You shrugged your shoulders and heard a woman's voice laughing on the other side. "Hello Aki."

While you were talking to your brother, you did not notice at first that a fog was coming up. At first the fog was light and transparent, but soon you couldn't even see your own hand in front of your eyes. "Damn. Where does this fog come from all of a sudden? Hello? Mamoru? Can you still hear me? Hello? “ You asked several times after you didn't get an answer. You looked at your cell phone and then saw the connection go dead. "Strange."You muttered and tried to connect again.

Connection failure. The empty wifi symbols blinked mysteriously and that made you even more alarmed than you already were.

Vulpix jumped into your arms, the fog must have made it even more frightened as it snuggled into your chest. You pressed the fox creature close and tried to calm it down. “Don't worry, I'm here. We can do it, ” You whispered in a calming tone.

Suddenly there was a rustling in the bushes next to you, made you stopping in your tracks. You swallowed and hugged Vulpix even closer. "Okay .. keep calm. That is .. just the cute blue Pokemon from earlier .. definitely .. I'm sure of it "Your mantra died in your throat when a large, wolf-like Pokemon came slowly walking towards you. It was mostly blue and the tail, as well as his shoulder jewelry and a long, pigtail-like fur chain, were in a red. The animal looked graceful but also dangerous. You knew from your trainer battle experience when a wild Pokemon is too strong to risk a fight. Since you had not brought any other Pokemon to Galar except Vulpix and Primarina, you did not dare to challenge this mysterious Pokemon. Especially since the fog was too thick for a real fight.

You backed away as the unknown wolf pokemon stepped closer. It seemed to be assessing the situation without actually giving the appearance of wanting to attack. You didn't wanted to risk anything and so you turned around and tried to escape. You held Vulpix with all your strength so that you wouldn't drop it while running.

However, it turned out to be a wrong decision to run through an unknown forest in thick fog. At every corner you almost bumped into the trees and one time you could not avoid the roots that were on the way and stumbled. At the last second you were able to turn your body to one side so that you wouldn't crush Vulpix with your body.

In return, you fell so hard on your shoulder that you had to cry out in pain. Vulpix whimpered helplessly and tried to comfort it's trainer by licking your cheek when you got up again and wanted to run away. To make matters worse, you were getting tired too.

It wasn't long before you passed out when you let go of Vulpix and collapsed. In this unknown fauna with a wolf on your back and nobody knew where you were. Was that the end?

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Char?"

You had a headache and your shoulder hurt badly when you slowly opened your eyes. You felt as if you had been grilled with a Rapid Spin. Above you was a shadow that turned out to be the head of a Charizard and that made you blink.

"Oh? You are finally awake? " a male voice, unknown to you, spoke up. You straightened up before you realized you were covered with something. A blanket? No. A cape? It was red with a yellowish border and next to the red check pattern there were many different symbols, probably from companies from Galar. Sponsors maybe? Then you looked at a campfire.

A young man was sitting there, no more than 1-2 years older than you, and gave you a sincere and charming smile. His irides were amber and glowed from the fire. His purple hair was moving gallantly in the blowing wind and his parted goatee gave him a wise and manly touch. He wore a kind of leotard with a sword and a shield, short white trousers and long, equally white leggings underneath.

"What happened?"You wanted to know and held your shoulder. The memories, of what happened, were rather vague. “Charizard found you. And at the right time. You passed out right in front of a cliff. “ the man said and crossed his arms. "However, it took a while to save you, because your little protector thought we were enemies at first." the purple-haired man smiled and then pointed to a white fur ball next to you. It was Vulpix who slept next to you. You blinked and looked up. "W-what?"

The man's smile widened. "It really wanted to protect you heroically, even though it was trembling with fear."

[Flashback after you passed out]

[Leon's POV]

Charizard scanned the area to find a way out of the thick forest. If my brother ever finds out that I'm still lost in the Slumbering Weald ... I sighed and continued on my way through the fog. It was strange, the last time there was a fog like this, I looked for Hop and Gloria. The two reported about a rare Pokemon. Had it reappeared?

"Char-Charizard!"

My faithful companion drew my attention to something. A person was lying near the cliffs. Here in this part of the forest people rarely got lost, so I was astonished to meet someone here. Charizard and I stepped closer to identify the person. It was a woman. Just as Charizard was only a few steps away, a Vulpix attacked us. But it looked different from what I knew. It was snow-white and otherwise looked slightly different. Was that a so-called "Shiny"? I've never seen anything like it in my life! It had to belong to the woman. “Don't worry, my friend. We mean no harm. We want to help you. " I tried to calm the Pokemon. It stood protectively in front of its trainer and growled at us. But I also realized how scared it was. His entire body was shaking and his eyes showed despair and uncertainty.

I leaned down so I didn't looked so tall and held out my hand slightly. "Do not worry. We are not enemies. ”I tried again, but the Vulpix barked and shot an aurora beam at both Charizard and me. Wait? Aurora beam?!

I had no time to be confused about what was going on with it's element.

Charizard intercepted the attack with his wing and tried to counter. “Charizard stop! Don't fight. “, I ordered him and looked back at Vulpix. Just as I was trying to figure out how to make it clear to the Pokemon that I just wanted to help, it seemed to run out of strength and it collapsed. "That poor thing. Who knows how long it had been so weak and it kept on its feet the whole time to protect its trainer. "

[End of flashback]

"Vulpix must love you very much." The man added gently to his story and you smiled gratefully when you lightly petted the head of the Pokemon. "Oh Vulpix .." you whispered softly. “By the way, my name is [Y/n]. And your name is..?"

Now the man looked surprised, almost shocked. Or maybe .. disappointed? But then he had to smile again. "And I thought I am most famous trainer in Galar," he said, although his tone was not arrogant. "So you're not a fan of me, unfortunately." he added jokingly. "Hahaha. I'm sorry. But I'm not from Galar. “ You explained to the young man. "Will the most famous Galar trainer tell me his name?", You asked, a little amused yourself, whereupon the friendly stranger had to laugh gently. "With pleasure. My name is Leon. “, He finally introduced himself. "I am pleased to meet you. And thanks for the rescue. “ You replied kindly. "You're welcome. Where are you from, if I'm allowed to ask? ”Leon asked curiously.

"Of course. I grew up in Sinnoh. But originally I'm from Amila. ”You explained proudly. “Oh, I've heard a lot from Amila. Has your family moved to Sinnoh? "

"No no. It's a somewhat complicated story and, frankly, a bit too private. "You answered the question with an apologetic smile. Leon seemed to understand your intention and nodded. "Then of course I won't ask further. But it's nice to see that trainers from so far away are drawn to our beautiful Galar. But what are you doing here in the forest and why were you passed out? "

"Um .." You scratched your cheek in slight embarassment. “I wanted to meet my brother and his fiancée in Wedgehurst. Then I saw this real cute Pokemon and followed it blindly into the forest. At some point I lost sight of it and then this thick fog came. There was this Pokemon .. graceful, big, blue and red .. and I fled from it because I didn't fight unnecessary fights .. At some point on my escape I dislocated my shoulder and then passed out from exhaustion.“ You sighed in frustration. Oh man, that really sounded like a story that could only happen to a beginner. Leon grinned slightly. "So, a cute Pokemon got you into this misery. Well, you seem to me to be a very caring trainer and also very cautious tactically if you don't risk fighting against the unknown. ", Leon began and put his hand under his chin in a thinking pose. “You remind me of me. I'm just as devoted when it comes to Pokemon. And I ... uh, have no sense of direction. I even get lost in houses ... “, he then admitted with a laugh. "So? Is that why you walk around here by yourself too? Are you lost? In an area that should seem familiar to you as a well-known trainer of Galar?“ You tried to tease him. "Well .. at least I'm not so clumsy that I hurt myself." "Touche."

The silence between you two lasted a very short time until Leon spoke again. "And which Pokemon fascinated you so much that you walk into a dark forest that you are not familiar with?" He asked while he went to you with a first aid box. He was probably trying to fix your shoulder. You smiled and were grateful that you liked to wear strapless shoulder tops. So you didn't even have to undress and Leon got to the affected area without any problems. “Well, it must have been from this region because I didn't knew it. It was small and blue, with two braids and a white body. It looks a little like Ralts or Kirlia .. " You described while Leon took care of your shoulder and made a professional splint from a piece of a big leaf and bandages. “Oh, you mean a Hattrem. You can find them here in the forest, but quite far inside. They are also considered to be very shy when it comes to human interactions, because they react strongly to emotions. So I'm amazed that you saw one far enough from the forest to follow it. ”Leon wondered and blinked. “Then it was obviously my day of luck and bad luck at the same time. Because it got away from me. “You giggled and thanked him for the treatment. "Are you hungry? My cooking skills are modest, but so far Charizard and I have not had any food poisoning, "Leon laughed and handed you a plate of homemade curry. You accepted the food with a thanks and ate a spoonful. Leon paid attention to your facial features and at the moment when the corner of your mouth went down slightly, he laughed embarrassed. "So bad?"

You giggled slightly and swallowed the somewhat tough curry. "Well, some spices are missing, but it still tastes better than when one of my brothers tries to 'cook'." You said and ate the rest of the curry. It wasn't quite as bad as he had advertised it. Leon smiled and then looked at the sleeping Vulpix. "I think your little protector is waking up," he said and pointed to Vulpix. Its small head rose and it noticed that its trainer was no longer next to it. "Vul ..!" It shouted happily when it saw that you were awake and jumped joyfully into the arms of its trainer. You hugged it lovingly and breathed a quick kiss on the Pokemon's head. "There is my heroine."You said meekly and Leon couldn't help but smile happily while he saw the interaction between trainer and Pokemon. There weren't many trainers who had such a close and friendly relationship with their Pokemon, which was actually very sad. Many saw them only as toys or tools, as battle puppets, to become famous. Many did not care how the Pokemon are feeling. But that was exactly what the champ of Galar wanted to change.

"If you feel fit enough, then we can look for a way out together." Leon suggested after you gave your Vulpix some PokeBlocks from your home to eat. After all, you didn't wanted to let the poor thing suffer from the bad curry.

"Yes, I am. Vulpix surely too, right little one? “You asked and Vulpix replied with an enthusiastic: 'VUUU!', Whereupon both trainers had to laugh and went on their way. On the way you held a little small talk, about your wisdoms on how to take care of Pokemon, about the fact that you wanted to settle down in a region at some point in order to run a fairy gym, since this position was already taken in Amila . And in the other regions that you had traveled to. The subject came up about the strange colors of your Vulpix. "I wondered something. Is your Vulpix a Shiny? Because I've never seen a white Vulpix before. His fur is also a little different. ", Leon said and looked next to him. You walked next to him while Vulpix made herself comfortable on your not injured shoulder.

"No. But it comes from Alola. You know, the Vulpix in Alola had to adapt to the changed weather conditions and basically ... changed their element. These Vulpix are ice and fairy type. "You explained and now it made " click "at Leon. "Aaaaah, that explains why it attacked with aurora beam," he laughed then. "You have never seen an Alola form?" You asked, flabbergasted. "No, we actually never have trainers who come from Alola," Leon answered thoughtfully. "I think you're the first one I see with an Alola Pokemon in my 10 year trainer career," he added. It was a few more hours before you reached the exit. You two noticed that you got along pretty well and that your chemistry was really good. You laughed a lot, of course you didn't try to get lost again and you actually felt a little wistful when you got out of the forest. Because that meant that the ways of you and this personable trainer parted again.

"Hey! Sister! ", Mamoru shouted, who was already waiting in front of the entrance with his fiancee Aki and an unknown young man.

"Huh?" You blinked and ran to your brother. "Who is this?"

“This is Hop. He lives in the village and is currently visiting his mother. We got to know him and he wanted to help us find you. But as I can see you've found your way back. ", Mamoru grinned mischievously. You knew that grin. "Brother!" Hop called and hugged Leon. You blinked. So Hop was Leon's brother? If that wasn't a coincidence. "Really, have you got lost in the Slumbering Weald again?" The younger sighed and put his arms on his hips. "You know how bad my sense of direction is." Leon laughed and raised his hands defensively. "However. Mother would like to see you again, so move your bum to her and say hello, "he ordered.

"Well, then it's probably time to say goodbye first.", Leon said and turned to you. "Um .. Here, this is my league card. You can all have one. ", He said a bit embarrassed and first gave Mamoru and then Aki a card. He gave the last one to you and grinned. You looked at it and blinked.

"... Champion Leon .. Wait, you are the champion of Galar ?!", you asked completely perplexed and pointed at him. "That offends me now, that you are shocked." Leon laughed and winked at you.

"No of course not. That somehow makes you sympathetic that you are so absentminded. "You smiled. Just as Leon was about to reply, Hop poked him in the side. "Stop flirting and get on your way, brother."

Leon laughed, then turned back to you. "Now that you now know who I am .. Is there a chance that you will become a fan of mine after all?" He asked you slightly teasingly. You smiled back. "I already am." Your answer surprised him and your next words made him even a little blushy. “You are my savior after all. My hero. Of course I'm your fan. "You added and also winked.

Leon just stood there with his mouth open and everything he wanted to say died in his throat. Hop grinned broadly and then pulled his brother behind him. "Maybe we'll see each other again, folks!"

"See you then, Hop! And Leon. ", Mamoru shouted afterwards with a laugh, until he turned to his sister with a grin. "Already Found a little romance here yet? ”He teased you. "Dont talk nonsense. I do not know him. But he was .. nice. “You said and then looked at his League Card. Under the name was soemthing written in small letters: 'Turn the card'. You blinked and looked at the back of the card.

....

You grinned broadly and hugged the card when you laughed softly. "What's going on?", Aki wanted to know. "Oh nothing."You smirked and took your smartphone to type Leon's home number, which he had attached to the back with a small message, into your phone. He was kind of cute and this was just the beginning of a new wonderful friendship. You were sure about this.

#Chronicles of Galar #leon pokemon #leon #pokemon leon #champion leon #pkmn leon #Leon x Reader #pokemon #pokemon sword and shield #pokemon shsw

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tchallasbabymama · 3 years

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Ménage à Trois Chapter 8

Hey lovelies, here’s the next chapter of Ménage à Trois a day early! I’ll be honest, I only had 10 chapters mapped out for this originally, but I’m not really ready to let them go just yet so I’m thinking this story might end at around 13 chapters. We’ll see.

Check out my masterlist to read my other stories, and let me know if you want to be tagged in anything! Enjoy 😘

Word Count: 6594

CW: smut

T’Challa sat back in his desk chair and let out a deep sigh. It had been a rough week trying to convince the US government to continue their cooperation without Theodore, but they eventually came around and “allowed” the liaison position to replace an ambassador. It didn’t help that Theodore had been bad-mouthing Zora and the king to anyone who would listen, and unfortunately, lots of people listened. That is until some of those photos of Theodore and his mistress were mysteriously sent to Mrs. Thompson’s phone from an unknown number. That shut him up real quick. However, some of the damage had already been done. Thankfully, Zora had no interest in working in the world of politics and could care less about her reputation among that crowd.

Not only had the week been difficult because of work, but T’Challa was also missing his lady. Zora had flown back to New York to pack up her life, and she would be back in about a week, but he couldn’t wait that long. By the time three days had passed, he was already getting antsy. “Is this what it is like when I go on missions?” he wondered to himself.

He missed her loud laughter and the twinkle in her eye when she looked up at him. It just wasn’t the same seeing her in hologram form; it wasn’t anywhere close to as good as the real thing. Despite that, he looked forward to her morning calls. She would call him as she got ready for bed and tell him about her day as she detangled her hair, and T’Challa loved watching the look of determination on her face as she worked her way through every curl and kink. Some nights it was hidden under a solid layer of clay, and he’d tease her about looking like Hulk in her green mask. He didn’t get to see her like that often, but he liked it, and he wanted more of it. Something about seeing her in that relaxed state made him want to lay his head on her chest and doze off with her, but, unfortunately, as her day was winding down, his was picking up. He smiled as he thought back to their conversation earlier that day and the words that almost left his mouth when they said goodbye.

“I love you.”

He almost said it. He wasn’t sure where it came from, but it felt as natural as breathing.

“Sweet dreams, Babygirl. I...will talk to you tomorrow.” He had caught himself right before the words came tumbling out, but she didn’t notice his awkwardness thanks to a yawn that overtook her as he spoke. When she ended the call, he sat there in a stupor, unable to wrap his mind around what had just happened. It’s not that he couldn’t believe he was falling in love with Zora, that was pretty easy for him to believe, but T’Challa was surprised at how deeply he felt the words as they sat on his tongue. They were his truth that even he didn’t know until that moment. He felt a warm glow emanating from within him as he thought about his feelings for her, but it was quickly tamped out by the looming anxiety of what he knew he had to do regarding his other truth. T’Challa had no doubt in his mind that he loved Zora, but he had been lying to her the whole time about who and what he was. She had been kept in the dark about his identity because of her ties to the U.S. government, but T’Challa couldn’t hide behind that excuse anymore.

A call interrupted his thinking, and his mother’s image was projected into the air.

“Molo, mama.”

“Molo, unyana. Are you busy?”

“Not too busy for you.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. Change into something you can get dirty and come down to the garden.”

Ramonda ended the call before he could protest, and he chuckled, knowing she did it on purpose. The king stood and stretched out his body after sitting for so long, and he left his office to change into something a little less royal.

“How are you today, mama?” T’Challa asked as he kissed Ramonda’s cheek, interrupting the song she was humming as she watered her hanging flowers.

“You would know if you hadn’t skipped breakfast,” she taunted with an eyebrow raised as he smiled sheepishly back at her.

“I did not skip breakfast. I just had it in my quarters.”

“Mmmhm. Talking to Zora again?”

T’Challa playfully rolled his eyes and groaned. “Mama-”

“Don’t ‘mama’ me, boy. I already know,” she knelt down on her padded mat as she watered her fire lilies. “You know, in all the weeks she has been here, I have been able to spend very little time with her. Hopefully, that will change soon.” She eyed her son, and he nodded under her piercing glare.

“Yes, ma’am. I believe you will like her.”

“Oh, I already do. Zora is a lovely girl, T’Challa. You have chosen well, but then again, you always have had good taste in women.”

“Of course I do; I learned from the best,” he smiled at her as he crouched down and started pulling weeds.

“So, how is she?”

Ramonda smiled to herself as she watched T’Challa’s face brighten at the thought of her.

“Zora is well. She is still wrapping up loose ends in New York, but she is excited about her new job when she gets back.”

“I cannot say I am surprised at her appointment. She seems perfect for the position.”

“She is, mama...she is,” he said with a far-off look on his face and a dreamy smile holding firm on his cheeks.

“I bet. Have you told her yet?”

T’Challa’s voice caught in his throat.

“No, not exactly-”

“T’Challa!”

“I know, I know,” he rubbed the back of his neck, completely forgetting about the dirt on his hands.

“They have been here how long now, three months? You need to tell that girl before you make it worse than it already is. You should have told her the moment you decided you wanted to be with her.”

“It was not that simple.”

“And why not?” she asked with a hand on her hip.

“We went into this thinking there would be an end date,” he sighed. “Zora would leave soon and go back to America, so there was no need to get serious. She had already been looking for other jobs because she hated working under Theodore, but our relationship ended up blooming into this big, beautiful thing. It became more than I expected it to be, but now it might all come crumbling down because I have been keeping a huge part of myself from her. And M’Baku had to keep my secret, too...I do not think it will go well for either of us, but myself especially.”

The king pulled the unwanted plants from the ground and roughly threw them in a large basket, taking his frustration out on the soon-to-be compost. Ramonda looked over at her son, and her eyes softened at the sad furrow in his brow. She reached out and placed her hand over his. “Unyana, the longer you wait, the worse the outcome will be.”

“I just do not know how to come out and say ‘hey Zora, I have been lying to you this entire time’ without hurting her.”

“It might be inevitable, T’Challa, but that is not to say she will not eventually come around.”

“I hope so,” he sighed, and the two of them went back to gardening in comfortable silence. After a few more minutes of the hot sun beating down on them, Ramonda spoke again.

“So you said she is still seeing M’Baku?”

“Yes, and I believe things are going well.”

“Good for her. Does he love her as you do?”

“Yes, he-” A look of horror washed over T’Challa’s face while a smirk settled on his mother’s.

“Do not look so surprised. You are always the last to know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, everyone can see how much you love that girl. Have you considered a future for your relationship?”

“So diplomatic. Is this how I sound to everybody?” T’Challa chuckled. Ramonda lightly slapped his arm, and he gave in. “Alright, alright. Yes, I have considered it.”

“But?”

“But it is complicated with M’Baku involved as well. Well, not complicated, but definitely something that requires a conversation.”

“A conversation you just now realized you need to have,” Ramonda said while slowly nodding along. “Well, your great-great-grandmother, Queen Asha, married both the River tribe and Border tribe chiefs. And I believe it was your great-great-great-great-grandfather, King Jidenna, who had seven wives.”

“That is entirely too many.”

“I agree, but what I am saying is do not worry about his relationship with her. It has no bearing on where yours can go. She would make an excellent queen and an excellent chieftess if I do say so myself.”

T’Challa smiled from ear to ear at the thought of Zora ruling beside him before looking down at his beads and noticing the time. He let out a deep sigh, having enjoyed his time spent with Ramonda but not wanting it to end so soon. His free time was over, and he had to get back to running his kingdom. He pulled the last few weeds out of the ground and carried the full basket over to the composter on the other side of the garden, dumping out the contents into the putrid container and shutting the lid tight. He waved goodbye to her as he walked back toward the palace, stuck in his head about how to tell Zora his secret.

Ramonda sat back on her heels as he walked away, and she shook her head before turning back to her flowers and sighing. “T’Chaka, your son is a handful.”

--------

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“I can’t see, T’Challa,” Zora giggled as he carefully led her out of the car and down the walkway of her new home. As part of her new job, she was given a choice between an upgraded suite at the palace or her own house. She sort of missed cooking for herself, so she chose the house. As much as she loved living in the palace, she had never lived alone before and jumped at the opportunity to get her Ari Lennox on. Besides, she could always stay with either of her boyfriends in their palaces whenever she wanted.

T’Challa grabbed her waist to still her movement and pulled her flush against him, kissing behind her ear. “Are you ready?”

“Mmm, for what?” she asked as she bit her lip and wound her hips back on him.

“Behave,” he rumbled in her ear, making her flood her panties. “Are you ready to see the house?”

“I’ve already seen it, baby; I picked it.”

“True, but you have not seen it like this.”

Zora felt his hands undo the sash, and as it fell away, her eyes slowly blinked open and focused on the vision before her. Her home was surrounded by a beautiful landscape of tropical flowers, and there was a swing to the right of the door.

T’Challa held out his hand to her, and she took it, “There is more inside.”

Zora followed him into the house, and her jaw dropped. It was already decorated and furnished, and somehow it was exactly what she wanted, right down to the art on the walls. The plush teal velvet sectional was obviously the centerpiece of the living room, and she immediately walked over and ran her fingers along the soft fibers. She wandered into the kitchen and almost drooled when she saw that T’Challa had made sure it was fully stocked with her favorites. The six-burner stovetop caught her eye, and her wheels already started turning, bringing up memories of how she used to cook huge meals for her loved ones. She made a mental note to bring that energy to Wakanda and host some get-togethers.

She continued her self-guided tour with T’Challa on her heels and slowly made her way up the stairs and to her bedroom. T’Challa opened the door for her, and when she stepped through, her eyes became misty.

“T’Challa...how did you do all of this? This is...this is perfect.” She walked to the four-poster canopy bed and sat down to test the mattress. “Yep, perfect.”

“Wait until you see the closet,” the king teased, laughing as Zora got up and ran to the closet doors.

She flung them open and gasped, “T’Challa, you didn’t!” The closet had been expanded to fit her existing wardrobe and an entirely new wardrobe T’Challa had gifted her. She walked in and excitedly started flipping through the garments one at a time with a massive grin on her face. “This is too much.”

“Then stop smiling,” he walked closer and rested his hand on her hip as she continued to flip through the clothing rack.

Zora turned around in his arms to thank him when she caught a glimpse of a full shoe rack on the other side of the closet. She damn near pushed T’Challa to the side and made her way over to the shoes in no time flat, picking up a simple pair of black stilettos and flipping them over to see the bright red soles.

“Holy shit, these are Louboutins.” She carefully placed them back as if they would break and turned to face her man. “How did you do all this? Everything is exactly what I wanted.”

“Keisha may or may not have shown me your “Home Sweet Home” Pinterest board.”

“Of course she did,” Zora laughed. When she stopped, her voice took on that smoky timbre it tended to get when she was aroused, “You know there’s one more thing I really wanted that I haven’t gotten yet.”

“And what is that?” He asked, closing the gap between them and tilting her chin up towards him.

“We need to christen it.”

“How do we do that?” T’Challa captured her lips with his, and she melted into his arms.

“I want you to fuck me in every room in this house.”

“You haven’t even seen the home office or the meditation room yet-”

“I’ll see it later,” she reached up to undo his buttons, but he stopped her by grabbing her wrists in his hand.

“Don’t forget who’s in charge here.”

“I don’t care right now. Just fuck me.”

“You don’t care, eh? Alright, we will see,” he said as he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.

“T’Challa, stop,” she giggled out.

“Nope, you said you want me to fuck you in every room. Let us go where your neighbors can watch me slut your pretty ass out,” he said with a slap to the back of her thigh.

Part of Zora wanted to protest. She didn’t need her introduction to the neighborhood to be her getting her back blown out by the king, but those feelings were overridden the moment he reminded her of her position.

He took her back downstairs and toward the back of the house to a wide-open sunroom. She could see her new neighbors relaxing in their backyard, and her heart rate picked up when he set her down. What Zora didn’t know yet was that although she could see them, they couldn’t see her through the glass thanks to Shuri’s cloaking tech, so the thrill of possibly getting caught washed over her from head to toe.

“Take off your dress.”

“You do it,” she teased.

“Zora, I will not repeat myself,” he growled as he walked her back towards the glass wall. Fear flashed in her eyes for half a second before it was replaced by lust. He had a way of doing that to her that nobody else had ever done before. His presence alone made her tremble, and her body did just that as her back hit the glass. Despite how his dominance made her body melt, she still felt like putting up a fight.

“Then I’m not doing it,” she crossed her arms and looked up at him with a smirk.

“Take off the fucking dress, Zora. Now,” he grabbed her jaw roughly and made her meet his piercing gaze. She shuddered but held firm until his hand traveled up her inner thigh and zeroed in on her clit. Zora moaned as his middle finger applied the perfect amount of pressure while moving around her clit in circles. “No panties today...I see you wanted this. Do my fingers feel good on your pussy?”

“Mhm,” she moaned out louder as her teeth lightly clamped down on her bottom lip. T’Challa’s fingers experimented with different speeds and pressures, not letting her get too used to any pattern before they dipped down and collected some of her wetness. Right as her moans grew louder and higher, he removed his fingers and stuffed them down her throat.

“What does that sweet pussy taste like today?”

“Hmm, an orange creamsicle?”

“Mmm. Too bad I won’t be tasting it.”

“What? Why not?” she whined.

“Because you are disobedient. A good little slut would have taken off her dress and sucked my dick right here when I told her to, but you chose not to be that today. You decided you’d rather push my buttons than get fucked like a good girl,” he leaned into her ear, “but now I have to fuck you like a bitch out of line. You have clearly forgotten my rules and need to be reminded who is in charge here.”

Zora’s breath caught in her chest as the king yanked her head back by her hair.

“No traffic lights tonight, just the safeword.” He bit her ear. “Say it.”

“Sunset,” she whispered.

“Take off your dress,” he murmured between bites to her neck and shoulder.

“Uh-uh,” Zora shook her head and smiled mischievously at T’Challa. He pushed her into the wall and ripped her dress down the middle. Before she could protest, his hand was covering her mouth.

“You are only making things worse for yourself. Now, get on your knees.”

Zora had one more ounce of defiance in her and shook her head again, her words muffled under his large hand. Without saying anything, T’Challa threw her over his shoulder again and crossed the room to sit in a chair by the glass wall. He set her down, throwing her over his lap while she squirmed in his grasp. He held her down with one hand and slapped both of her cheeks with the other.

Zora cried out as he rained blow after blow down on her, alternating sides and watching her ass jiggle and redden. He spoke between slaps, “What are my rules?”

“I do what- Ow! I-I do what you say when you s-say it.”

Slap.

“And?”

Slap.

“I am to call you Sir unless you give m-me permission otherwise,” she spoke as her eyes watered and he massaged her cheeks to relieve the burning.

“And what’s the last one, Babygirl?”

“Bratty behavior will get me punished.”

His hands both came down on her backside, and she yelled out his name, forgetting herself. T’Challa growled and pulled her off his lap as he stood up. “On your knees.”

She obeyed, and her legs shook as she carefully knelt down and sat on her haunches with her hands in her lap and her mouth wide open.

“Oh, now you want to be a good girl?” T’Challa laughed as he unzipped his pants and let them fall to the floor, freeing his already hard dick. He tapped it on her tongue as he teased, “Tired of being my bitch already?”

“No, Sir,” she said around the thickness of her tongue.

He grabbed her hair and tilted her head back before sticking out his tongue and allowing his spit to drip into her mouth. His tongue soon followed in a sloppy kiss.

“Good. Now suck this dick.”

His grip on her hair tightened as her mouth enveloped him. Her long tongue flickered along the underside of his shaft as he carefully thrust his dick down her throat. Zora’s head swiveled up and down his length, taking every last inch like he had trained her to do. He held her head down when her nose reached his manicured pubic hair, and when he pulled her all the way off to see her face and his dick covered with spit, he couldn’t help but plunge back inside and fuck her face.

The wet sloshing sounds coming from Zora’s mouth were all that could be heard as T’Challa’s dick made itself at home in her throat.

“Fuck, Babygirl, this throat,” T’Challa groaned, not letting up on her as involuntary tears fell from her eyes. He was used to that by now and simply ignored them as she looked up at him with her doe eyes. “You look so pretty like this, with my dick in your mouth.”

Zora moaned around him, and the vibrations made his toes curl.

“You were made to please me, and that is all you are good for. You are worthless without my dick in your mouth,” he pulled her head off his dick, marveling at the bridge of spit still connecting them. “Say it.”

“I’m worthless without your dick in my mouth,” she slurred.

“Good girl,” he chuckled darkly as his hand ran up and down his shaft while she looked up at him with hopeful eyes. “Not good enough yet, though.”

His hand sped up, and she could see his dick twitching, so she opened her mouth for him.

“Close that shit,” T’Challa seethed through his clenched teeth.

Zora shut her mouth, and shortly after, warm squirts of liquid painted her face as he grunted above her.

The next thing she knew, she was being pulled to her feet and her breasts were pushed up against the glass.

“All they have to do is look over here, and they will see you covered in my cum,” he whispered into her ear as he entered her from behind, “taking my dick like a good bitch. They can see how filthy you are.”

Her back arched as her hands pressed into the glass to steady herself. T’Challa’s hand found its way back to her curls and pulled her head back as his hips pistoned inside her. He licked a stripe from the base of her neck to her temple, tasting himself on her skin and making her shudder and clench around him. His other hand gripped her hip so tight it would probably leave a bruise as he pulled her ass back onto him. He wouldn’t even let her throw it back; he controlled every move her body made. He arched her back deeper, making her bend more at the waist.

Zora’s eyes rolled to the back of her head when the hand on her hip moved down to circle her pearl again. She nearly lost her mind as his thrusts got deeper somehow, and his hips rolled into hers, stirring her insides, before removing his hand and going right back to his punishing strokes. Her already sore ass stung as his pelvis made contact, and his balls slapped her clit. He let go of her hair and grabbed both of her hips, fucking her deep as she screamed out for the heavens. Her body tensed up and released all over him. Her contracting walls almost brought him along with her, but his self-control was out of this world. T’Challa pulled out and turned her around, wrapping her legs around his waist and pushing her back into the glass as he thrust into her.

“T’Cha- Sir!”

He chuckled and whispered in her ear. “No, say my name Babygirl. I want them to know who you belong to. Who owns this pussy?”

“M-me,” she looked him in his eye and challenged him, wanting him to go harder. And he did.

T’Challa used gravity to Zora’s disadvantage and dropped her on his dick, meeting her thrust for thrust and going as deep as he could possibly go inside her. She screamed out, unable to contain her volume any longer. Her nails dug into his back, and the cool chill of the glass against her back reminded her of her possible audience, taking her over the edge.

“T’Challa, baby, my pussy-”

“Wrong. Whose pussy?” He smiled teasingly as she looked around the room, eyes unable to focus on any one thing. “Uh-uh, look at me. There you go, good girl. Now tell me, who owns this pussy, Zora?”

“Y-you do.”

He groaned in approval. “And what’s my fucking name?”

“T’Challa!”

“Who?”

“King T’Challa!”

“Mmm, one more time Babygirl. Say it again.”

“King T’Challa! Mmmm, you’re gonna make me cum again.”

“Do it,” he slapped her thigh, “and tell me what I want to hear.”

His hips never faltered as her walls gripped him tight. Her voice was hoarse and uneven, but she was able to croak out as she came, “This is your pussy, baby.”

Hearing the words sent him over the edge right behind her, and the two of them stayed in that position, catching their breath and gazing into each others’ eyes warmly. Zora loved that about T’Challa. He could be as rough as he wanted to be, but he could turn it off with the flip of a switch and be tender with her.

“How do you feel?” he asked, his voice low.

“Sore.”

T’Challa nodded and carried her back into the main house and up the stairs to her bathroom as she clung to him and buried her face in his neck. He set her down on the edge of the enormous clawfoot tub and started the water before disappearing out the bathroom door and reappearing a couple of minutes later with a cup of tea. He handed it to her and grabbed some bath salts, pouring them in as she sipped and soothed her aching throat. Once the tub was almost full, he helped her in and slid in behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist as she leaned her head back against his shoulder.

“Are you ready for your first day?”

“I think so. I’m still nervous about not being qualified.”

“Theodore was unqualified, but you are simply inexperienced. There is a difference. You will find your stride and do great things. I can feel it.”

“You better, you’re the one who hired me,” she chuckled as he wrapped his arms tighter around her and kissed her neck. “Thank you, by the way. For everything. The job, the house...for being you. Thank you.”

“You are more than welcome,” he said between kisses, making her giggle.

“T’Challa, I’m still sore.”

“So I cannot kiss you?”

“That’s all you get.”

“That is all I need.”

--------

Zora had spent the whole weekend alone as she settled into her new home. T’Challa had to get back to the palace to get some work done, so he didn’t end up staying that first night with her. At first, she was upset he had to leave, but then she rejoiced in getting her place all to herself. She didn’t wear a stitch of clothing all weekend, and she spent most of her time dancing around her living room and getting in the right headspace in her meditation room.

By Monday, she actually felt ready to do her job, something she hadn’t felt up until that point. Zora smiled at herself in the mirror as she adjusted the lapel on her favorite electric blue pantsuit and checked her outfit one last time before heading out the door. Thankfully, her home wasn’t very far from the palace, but T’Challa had gifted her with a hovercar to make her commute even easier. Before he left, he gave her a quick tutorial, and she picked it right up. As she slid in the driver seat and turned the vehicle on with her kimoyo beads, Zora smiled, thinking about how much she loved the Wakandan tech. “This is so fucking cool,” she mused as she ran her fingers over the dashboard.

When she pulled up at the palace, she grinned at seeing her own parking space near the entrance. She got out of her car at the same time Akil, the River tribe elder, arrived for the council meeting.

“Molo Zora! Unjani namhlanje?” he raised his eyebrow at her, testing out her Xhosa even though he was a former wardog and spoke English fluently. Zora had always liked Akil since he was one of the few council members that were initially open to her being there.

“Ndiphilile, Akil. And you?” she sent him a knowing glance with a healthy dose of playful attitude as he stepped out of his car.

“Bast woke me up this morning, and the sun is still in the sky. I cannot complain,” the older man smiled at her as they walked into the palace. “Are you excited about your first day?”

“I was nervous, but all that went away when I pulled up.”

“Because you saw me.”

Zora playfully shoved him as he cackled.

“But seriously though, you will do well. King T’Challa would not have chosen you otherwise.”

Zora turned to smile at Akil and caught sight of M’Baku coming down the hall. Her smile widened, and he turned to see what had gotten her so happy, quickly understanding her change in demeanor when he saw the chief. Zora excused herself from Akil and made her way over to her man, giving him a chaste, work-appropriate kiss.

“This color looks beautiful on you,” he held her hand in his and made her do a spin for him.

“Thank you,” she giggled. “Want to come see my office?”

“Of course. I am sorry I could not make it down this weekend to see the house.”

“Can you make it to my housewarming tonight?”

“Of course.”

“Then don’t worry about it. You’re gonna love it.”

They got to her office, and T’Challa was already there waiting with her paperwork. She took a look around the room and noticed how different it looked from when Theodore occupied the space. The walls were a warm burnt orange, and the furniture was all hand-carved Jabari wood. There were pictures on the desk of her and her mom and some with her and Keisha. Her framed degree hung on the wall behind her desk above a full bookcase. She ran her hands over the titles from throughout the diaspora and smiled, already thinking of curling up on her couch with a few of them. The Wakandan language and history books caught her eye, and as she reached for one of the history books, T’Challa intercepted her hand.

“Before you do that, there is something I need to tell you, but now is not a good time. How about after your party tonight?”

Zora’s heart sped up, and he tried not to notice, so he pulled her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

“Everything is ok, I promise,” he said, ignoring how M’Baku narrowed his eyes.

Zora’s first day went by smoothly. She mostly just read over and signed her contract after the council meeting, where she was officially reintroduced as American Liaison. The council gave her a round of applause, and she felt a weight lift from her chest upon realizing they wouldn’t be against her appointment like she thought they would. Another weight stayed, though. One put there by T’Challa earlier that day. His words continued to echo through her mind, haunting her until it was time for her to go home.

“There is something I need to tell you,” she mocked aloud as she packed up her things. She was frustrated and nervous, and she was thankful her housewarming party would be small and hopefully not too draining.

The rest of the night ended up being a blur. She greeted her friends when they arrived and held a couple of conversations as she kept the food and drinks flowing, but everyone could tell she was in another world.

“You should not have said anything earlier,” M’Baku grumbled to T’Challa before taking a sip of his beer.

“Would you prefer her to read about it before I tell her?” T’Challa rolled his eyes. “Either way, this is not going to go well.”

“For either of us.”

“Not necessarily. It is my secret, not yours.”

“I do not think she will see it that way.”

T’Challa nodded, and his eyes trailed Zora as she went to the kitchen to pop open another bottle of wine.

Zora needed to hide from the crowd for a moment, so she disappeared to the kitchen. Bahiti and Keisha had noticed her behavior and were concerned for their friend, so they followed behind her moments later.

“Is something wrong, Zora?”

“You’re acting kinda funny, and you normally love a party in your honor. What’s going on, sis?”

Zora chuckled. She was so in her head that she was missing a fun time with her friends. Her eyes swept over the dozen or so folks in her living room who had all come to celebrate her and her new home, and she suddenly felt a wave of guilt. Zora hadn’t meant to ignore her guests, but thankfully they had kept themselves busy. T’Challa and M’Baku chatted with Dakarai as Mandisa and Asha sat on the couch giggling over who knows what with a couple of people Zora had met in the dance class she had started taking a few weeks ago. The music set a chill tone for the gathering, and Zora thought it was nice getting to see her friends mingle with each other. Her friends from the dance class melded well with her work friends and the friends she made on her adventures around the country. Even with royalty and Okoye present, the vibe was relaxed, so Zora followed suit and put on a smile for the rest of the party.

Since it was a work night, people didn’t stay too late, and at around 10:30, Zora found herself cleaning up what little mess was left behind when she felt a hand circle her waist.

“Did you enjoy yourself tonight?” T’Challa asked, nuzzling his head into her neck.

“Yes, but I would’ve enjoyed it a lot more if you hadn’t done the whole ‘we need to talk’ thing earlier,” she rolled her eyes and tried to get out of his arms, but he just turned her around to face him.

T’Challa sighed, “We do need to talk.”

“Ok, then talk.”

“My sweet, let us sit down first-”

“No, I don’t like this. Somebody talk, now.”

“Zora, please sit. Trust us. Please,” he felt a lump form in his throat at the words, knowing what followed would surely break her trust in him.

She eyed them both suspiciously before taking a seat on her couch. M’Baku sat next to her, and T’Challa started pacing as he searched for the words.

“Not this pacing shit again,” Zora thought.

“Zora,” T’Challa began, prompting M’Baku to grab Zora’s hand in his. “There is something I have not told you. Something very important. The only reason I kept it from you is because you worked for the U.S. government, and it is something I want to keep from the rest of the world for the time being, but now that you work for Wakanda, you need to know...”

Zora’s body felt like lead as she listened to his words and went over every possible worst scenario in her head. T’Challa’s deep breath unnerved her, and she braced herself for whatever came next.

“How familiar are you with the Black Panther?”

“The superhero?”

M’Baku rolled his eyes as T’Challa chuckled.

“Yes, the superhero.”

“Um, not very. He kinda just shows up, does his thing, and dips.”

“Yes, he is a very busy man.”

“You know him? Is that what this is about?” Zora rolled her eyes and sighed in relief. “You had me thinking-”

Just then, T’Challa’s suit appeared on his body, and Zora screamed, jumping back into M’Baku’s lap. Her hands were cupped over her mouth in disbelief as she stared at her boyfriend, the Black Panther, in all his suited-up glory.

“You...you’re- how?”

“It is a long story, but-”

“No, not ‘how are you the Black Panther,’ how the fuck could you lie to me all this time?”

“There it is,” T’Challa thought to himself. He knew the lie would overshadow the news.

“Zora, we went into this for just a good time. I cannot divulge this to just anybody-”

M’Baku shook his head to get the king to stop before he went too far, but he didn’t see it in time.

“Just anybody?!”

“Zora, that is not-”

“Then tell me this: if I wasn’t working for you, would you even tell me now?”

He hesitated, and Zora’s eyes blew wide open.

“So you can fuck me, but you can’t trust me unless I’m under contract?” Zora said as she climbed off of M’Baku. “And you-”

“Zora, he was acting under orders. Please do not be upset at him.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your orders, T’Challa, and I don’t care that you’re the Black Panther. I’m fucking pissed because you two lied to my face for months.” M’Baku reached for her arm, and she snatched it back.

“I had to. I could not let Theodore or the Secre-”

“I wouldn’t have told them, and you fucking know it,” she snarled. “How long were you gonna keep it up? Since I was ‘just anybody’ would you have ever told me? Would you have even spoken to me after we left?” Zora’s mind was racing, and her breathing became shallow.

“Maybe you should sit down, Babygirl.”

“Don't call me that,” she said between breaths. M’Baku tried to put his arm around her, but she pushed it off.

“Ok...ok. Zora, please come sit down.”

She listened, but not because he asked. She was getting lightheaded, and a cold sweat had started to take over her body.

“I need...you...to leave.”

“Zora, I can hear your heartbeat. We will leave, but you need to slow down your breathing. In and out, just like that,” he breathed with her for a few moments before the panic left her eyes anger filled them.

“You can hear my heart beating?”

“Y-yes, I-”

“Get out.”

“Zora,” M’Baku tried to get through to her, but it was no use.

“Get out. Both of you.”

“Babyg-”

“Get out!” she yelled, making T’Challa hang his head in shame. “Get the fuck out of my house, and if it doesn’t have to do with work, don’t talk to me. We’re through.”

“Zora,” both called to her, voices cracking with tears threatening to fall from their eyes.

“Save it,” she turned and walked up her stairs before stopping and turning back to T’Challa. “I’ll need the next week off.”

“Anything,” he pleaded, bringing tears to her eyes. She wanted to trust them, but she never could trust a liar, and that’s exactly what they were. Nothing they said felt true anymore, and she questioned everything they had ever told her. She ran up the stairs and slammed her bedroom door closed before they could see her cry, and she held it in tight until she heard her front door close behind them. Next Chapter

Taglist: @dersha89, @ljstraightnochaser, @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me, @toni9

#cecewritessometimes #black panther fic #black!oc #t'challa #m’baku #t’challa x oc x m’baku #zora #throuple

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writeforfandoms · 3 years

Text

Shake, Rattle and Roll epilogue

My masterlist

Okay folks. This is later than I intended but uh life kicked me around a bit. Sorry.

Also. Once you’ve read it. There is a possibility that I could do a sequel for this, if there’s interest. I know I left things unsolved (the actual original murder for one) and I know what happened and how and why, but there wasn’t a clean space to add it in, because life doesn’t always work that way. SO if you wanna know more, let me know! My ask box is always open to y’all. Also lmk if you want more because honestly? I could definitely be persuaded to write more. This is fun.

Summary: A little bit of cleanup. Some sleep. Some coffee. Things will look better in the morning.

Warnings: Just swearing for this one, nothing terrible.

Tags: @fandom-blackhole @pedrocentric @sarahjkl82-blog @giizhkens-cedar

It didn’t take longer than an hour to get back to your apartment, all told. The three of you hadn’t stuck around long after making sure Inumon and Mikken were both dead. Cee had been a trooper, keeping up with you and not complaining once on the trip. You splurged for a private ride for a few reasons, one of which was that you simply really did not want to bother with public transit at this hour. It was late, later than you usually ventured out, and between the hour and the leftover adrenaline, you were a bit twitchy. Ezra, on the other hand, seemed cool as a cucumber.

But once the three of you were in your apartment, you were half-way to collapsing, and Cee looked like she was hanging on by a thread.

“Sleep first,” you decided. “Planning tomorrow.” You pointed Cee sternly to the couch before you left to grab extra blankets and pillows for her.

“You sure it’s okay for me to stay the night?” Cee asked, sounding close to her age for the first time all night.

“I insist,” you told her firmly, handing her two pillows. “I’ve got more blankets if you need them, and you can borrow some clothes if you don’t want to sleep in those.”

“I’m okay for tonight,” Cee told you after a momentary pause. “Thank you.”

“Here.” You stepped into the kitchenette to grab her a glass of water. “Drink before bed or you’ll probably be dehydrated in the morning.”

Cee’s lips twitched but she took the glass. Probably just to appease you, but whatever, you’d take it.

“I can find my own accommodations for the night,” Ezra offered.

“No, I’ve got a cot you can use,” you offered. “It’s not the most comfortable thing, but it’ll do.”

“It’ll do, indeed,” Ezra mused. “Very gracious of you.”

You waved his thanks off, going back to the closet to grab the cot, and more pillows and blankets. Fortunately you were well stocked on those. Ezra helped, taking the cot from you and setting it up as you directed him.

“Planning tomorrow,” you said again, looking between the two of them. Cee was already curled up under a blanket on the couch. “Sleep now, hopefully. When we’re all less tired.”

“You’d do well to take your own advice, dove,” Ezra advised, glancing over at you from setting up the cot. “Get some water and sleep.”

You shot him a look, a little exasperated but mostly amused. You hesitated for a few moments, though. Did you bring up the kiss? Wait for him to bring it up? Then you made a face at yourself for acting like a kid with a crush and headed for your bedroom, more than ready to collapse. Everything would keep until tomorrow, of that you were certain.

Despite being unused to having company, you fell asleep quickly and slept soundly. You woke to the smell of coffee, and rolled out of bed still a bit bleary.

Cee and Ezra were both already awake. Cee was sitting on the couch cross-legged, while Ezra lounged against the counter. You looked at both of them briefly and then made for the coffee, hip-checking Ezra out of your way.

“Good morning to you too, dove,” Ezra said, bright and amused.

“Coffee first,” you grumbled, getting down a mug. Coffee always came first.

“Coffee gremlin,” Cee said knowingly.

“The fuck, kid?” You half-turned to shoot her a betrayed look, to which she shot you a bright smile. Okay. Fine. Kid could make fun of you if she smiled like that. Fuck. You doctored your coffee how you liked it quickly, not bothering to move from where you were still right next to Ezra. He didn’t seem to mind, and it was your place, he could move if he wasn’t comfortable.

“So,” Cee started, looking at you briefly before suddenly finding the coffee table in front of her fascinating. “What now?”

You let out a breath, not quite a sigh. “What do you want? First and foremost.”

Cee considered for a few moments, letting the silence stretch. “I want to go to school.” Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

“Okay,” you agreed easily, tamping down your anger. Damon was dead, your anger would do you no good. “School. That can be arranged.”

Her head popped up and she stared at you, painfully hopeful. “Seriously?”

“‘Course. I’ll work it out. I know some people.” You smiled at her, hoping you hid your pain well enough. This poor kid. She clearly wasn’t used to people standing in her corner. New mantra for the day: Damon’s already dead, don’t be mad at him.

“I reckon I shall have to venture on to find my next job, as this one didn’t pan out,” Ezra said, though he was watching you.

You snorted softly at that. “I might know a few people for that, too,” you admitted before you took a large sip of coffee. “I’ve made a few contacts over the years.”

Ezra blinked at you, momentarily stunned silent. Probably not used to people offering help, rather than bartering. Clear sign he’d spent too long on the Green Moon.

“Right,” you muttered, shifting away from the counter and starting to pace, because you felt better thinking while moving, and this required some thinking. “Cee, we’re gonna have to go get some of your things. I’m assuming you have things you’d like to keep that aren’t currently with you?”

Cee nodded, hair bobbing around her until she pushed it behind her ears.

“Okay. That’s the top of the list. I can always send out a few feelers now, probably won’t hear back from anyone for a few hours at least. We should try to move quickly, I have no idea when that house will be discovered, or people will be noted as missing.” You took another sip of coffee, your mind whirring back to life.

You were abruptly stopped in the middle of one of your circuits, Ezra grabbing you firmly. You squeaked and managed not to slosh coffee all over the two of you, even as he grinned.

“A more generous and selfless soul I’ve not had the pleasure of meeting,” he hummed, voice low, eyes bright. “You are a rare one indeed, dove.”

You blinked at him, flabbergasted, not quite sure how to respond to that. Which, of course, he took advantage of, and kissed you again. Your brain blanked out just as quickly as it had woken up.

“As cute as you two are,” Cee interrupted after seconds? Minutes? Who the hell kept track of time anymore anyway. “There’s something I need to show you.”

You pulled back from Ezra with some reluctance and pointed a finger at him. “We’re revisiting this topic later.”

“Yes ma’am.” Ezra’s lips curled in a devious, smug smile.

You swallowed hard and turned to Cee, watching as she dug something out of her pocket. She unfolded it on the coffee table, looking suddenly nervous. You drifted closer to look.

It was a map. A map of the Green Moon, if you weren’t mistaken. A map of the Green Moon with coordinates and a circled area.

“Dad didn’t have the only copy of the map,” Cee told you, looking between you and Ezra. “I have one too.”

Time stood still. You were frozen. You didn’t move, didn’t breathe. Just stared at the map. And then, slowly, you looked at Ezra. The look on his face scared you, just a little. He looked… well, he looked like a prospector presented with a map to possibly the biggest haul of aurelac ever seen. Hungry and greedy and a little awestruck.

“Tomorrow,” you decided, shaking your head and putting your hand flat over the map, breaking the spell on the room. “That is now a tomorrow problem. We have more immediate problems to figure out first.” You shot Ezra a look that just dared him to disagree with you. But he simply nodded, leaning back, unwilling to argue over it.

Good. You had enough problems for today that you needed to tackle. One last deep breath, and you left the two of them so you could start sending out messages. Today problems first. You could tackle the map problem tomorrow. Or later, if you could manage it. For today, Cee was your priority.

#shake rattle and roll #ezra x reader #ezra prospect x reader #clue!au

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beewolfwrites · 3 years

Text

And When I am Formulated, Sprawling on a Pin - Chapter Twenty-Four: And the Rest is Silence

And this is it: the final chapter! It’s been insane, but this is the only fanfiction I've ever finished before, and it wouldn’t have happened without all the support. Thank you so much!! I didn’t think anyone would read this, but seeing everyone’s reactions to each chapter has kept me going :D

I’m sorry for the essay, but I’m aware I didn’t post anything about this in the AIB tag. Yes, there will be a sequel!

I need to read the manga properly before writing it, so I don’t know when the sequel will start. But in the meantime, there’ll be a series of Chishiya one-shots of his perspective, and there’ll even be scenes that weren’t in this fic, plus an original game!

For the full fanfic, you can find it here on AO3.

I’ll also be creating a master list, and I'll post the literature references after this for those who wanted them <3

Once again, thank you so much!! And I hope you enjoy this last chapter.

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

By the time Kuina found us again, it was already late afternoon, and even though our visas had extended by ten days after the Witch Hunt game, there was something about the setting of the sun that felt foreboding.

We lit up the furniture shop with candles and changed into the clean clothes we’d collected. Seeing Chishiya wearing ordinary clothes felt strange. Aside from when we’d crossed paths in the Tag game, the entire time I’d known him he’d been wearing swim shorts and flip flops.

Now, he emerged from the bathroom wearing grey sweatpants and a variegated blue cardigan that suited him perfectly. When his eyes flickered to mine, I realised I’d been staring, and distracted myself with preparing dinner instead. It wasn’t much, especially since all I had was canned goods and a camping stove, but the vegetable stew kept us warm while we curled up in our makeshift living room. As evening turned to night, however, it became obvious that something was missing.

There are no games.

Kuina chewed on her lip, looking out of the window. ‘What d’you think will happen when our visas run out?’

‘It probably has something to do with the Ten of Hearts,’ I told her. ‘Maybe there’s no need for games anymore, since we’ve got all the numbered cards.’

It didn’t bode well for us. If there were no games by the time our visas ran out, there was no chance of us getting out of the Borderlands. At least not alive.

As the night wore on, Kuina was the first to go upstairs. Covering her yawn with her hand, she waved goodnight and winked at me. I tried not to blush. Not that it made a difference, anyway. Chishiya was busying himself over a scrap of paper, and barely reacted when I smushed up by his side.

I frowned at the paper in his hand. ‘Isn’t that...’

‘Ah.’ He held it out so I could see it. ‘I took it from the tagger’s pocket.’ It was a drawing of a circle with squiggly lines, clearly a rushed sketch of something. In the middle of a line, the pen had stabbed a hole straight through.

‘What is it?’

‘Well, I have an idea,’ he said, but never elaborated.

Fighting the onset of sleep, I leaned my head against his shoulder, paying no mind to the way he tensed beneath me. The fabric of his cardigan was soft as down and made for a perfect pillow. ‘Aren’t you going to tell me?’

‘And if I don’t want to?’

I pushed my face into the fabric, pretending to settle in for the night. ‘Then I’ll just stay here and annoy you until your visa runs out.’

‘I have a feeling that won’t happen any time soon,’ he said, looking out the window.

And that was when I noticed it too. Midnight had passed by only a few minutes ago, yet there were no lasers. Did that mean the Borderlands were at a standstill? Were we stuck here permanently now? I wasn’t aware of how silent I had become, lost in my own thoughts, until Chishiya spoke up.

‘I believe it’s a map.’

My eyes slid to the drawing again. ‘And that hole in the paper, do you think that’s where the others are? The dealers, I mean.’

He shifted uncomfortably and I sat upright, conscious that I might have been unintentionally hurting or bothering him. Looking at the map properly, the lines could represent different interlocking pathways. If the marked place was a hideout of some kind, it couldn’t be in the open streets; there was too big a risk that a player might stumble upon it by accident.

So where...?

As soon as the idea came to mind, the words slipped out of my mouth. ‘The subway....’

He hummed in agreement. ‘I went to the nearest subway station this morning to check it against the real map. It’s a loose fit, but it works.’

I thought back to the second tagger – the crying woman – and how she’d been forced to participate in the game, donning an explosive collar. ‘Maybe if we find the place, we’ll get some answers.’

‘Probably,’ he said. ‘But I’m curious to see if anything changes within the next few days.’

‘Do you think we’ll hear something soon?’ I asked, yawning into my hand.

‘I believe we will.’ He gave me that same half-smile I had grown so used to. ‘But right now, I think you should go to sleep.’

Chishiya didn’t complain when I crawled into his bed. Like the night before, he kept his distance, but I could’ve sworn at times, when my sleeping became lighter throughout the night, I could feel fingers lightly touching my hair, only to pull back the moment I stirred. Over the next few days, it became the norm, and every night I would curl up on my side of the bed, slipping into calm dreams under the blue light of the window.

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

Despite the sunshine washing over the grey of the city, the stairs leading into Minami-Aoyama station descended into darkness. We’d checked and double-checked the drawing against the official subway map several times, but the idea of entering an abandoned station to uncover who knows what wasn’t inviting.

‘Are you sure this is it?’ Kuina asked for the third time.

I looked at the route map hanging over the station entrance, my eyes tracing the shape of the lines. ‘Positive.’

Folding her arms, Kuina went first. I waited for Chishiya to take a small torch from his pocket before following behind. The station was truly submerged in blackness, and if not for Chishiya’s torch, we would have easily become lost. He shone the beam at the paper in his hand, then held it up against each train line.

‘This way,’ he said, and walked towards the edge of the platform.

We hopped down onto the gravel below, using the metal tracks to guide us further into the tunnels. It was disconcerting to see the subway so empty, but with Kuina and Chishiya here, I felt safe somehow.

Several minutes in, Chishiya stopped abruptly, and I almost walked into him. If he reacted at all, I couldn’t see to tell. But he seemed more focused on something else, as he pointed the torch at a door that had been busted open.

‘That must be it.’ Kuina’s voice echoed.

Without hesitation, Chishiya disappeared through the door, leaving Kuina and I in the darkness.

Chishiya?!

I panicked, arms waving as I tried to find something to hold onto. I heard Kuina hiss as we stumbled into each other and bumped elbows. Feeling around for the door frame, we managed to make our way inside, where Chishiya held his torch at us from further away.

‘Hey!’ Kuina snapped. ‘Don’t do that again! You’re the only one with a light here.’

‘Walk faster then,’ he said, waiting impatiently as we jogged over.

He shone the beam in the opposite direction, where it bounced off something. It was still too dark to tell just what, but as we walked forwards, everything became clearer. A structure lay ahead, with tunnels and walkways all leading into a giant room. Overhead, wires were strung across the ceiling, all feeding into the same place. We entered through one of the tunnels, and my heart jumped.

Televisions. They stared, black and empty, in rows and columns up the walls. But what was even more surprising was the setup right in front of us. It was an office, with papers, pen pots and coffee-stained mugs strewn about on desks. It would have looked like any other workplace, if not for the bodies draped in chairs and across the floor.

‘What... is this?’ I crouched to inspect the body of a man in a suit. Judging from its state, he had only died recently, but more importantly, there was a singed hole running through his head. He had been killed by a laser. ‘They’re not the ones in charge of the games.’

Chishiya closely inspected a desk. ‘Evidently not,’ he said, picking up a folded piece of paper and passing it to me. It was filled with numbers, some ticked off. Whoever it had belonged to was keeping track of their visa.

They’re playing games too, I thought. Or at least, they were.

‘So, these guys were the dealers.’ Kuina gingerly held up a sheet of paper with scribbles all over it. Upon closer inspection, they appeared to be odds. ‘They were betting on us,’ she said.

A shiver ran along my skin. Of course, they had been watching us this whole time, that was expected. But to place bets on our survival was a whole other story. If the dealers were playing too, there must’ve been a separate system for them to extend their days. Perhaps how many people survived each game had some kind of impact on their visas.

A finger lightly brushed the back of my arm and Chishiya appeared beside me. ‘Momoka’s friend,’ I said, ‘she died right after she told everyone she was a dealer. And the taggers died because we won. I have a feeling their visas depended on whether or not we cleared each game... or maybe how many people didn’t make it.’

From his expression, I knew he had been thinking the same thing. ‘It doesn’t explain why they’re all dead now.’

I glanced around at the stiffened bodies slumped around us. ‘Actually, I have a bad feeling about that too.’

At that moment, a tap of footsteps echoed from the entrance. Chishiya instantly turned off his torch and tugged me into one of the tunnels. Kuina joined us and we hid, waiting. The footsteps grew louder, closer, and two torchlights waved through the darkness. I kept my eyes trained on the tunnel opposite as the footsteps paused.

‘Where is this place?’

‘Who knows?’

With a sigh, I relaxed instantly.

Those two.

It had only been a few days since I had made peace with Arisu and Usagi, but I was glad to see them again. Arisu was cleaned up, his wounds well on the way to healing, while Usagi stared in amazement at the television screens around us.

Chishiya grazed past me as he moved out from under the shadows. ‘You actually found this place,’ he said. ‘As expected from someone I have high hopes for.’

‘We meet again,’ Kuina said, walking around the desks to lean against the wall.

Arisu and Usagi’s eyes scanned the two of them before stopping at me. They looked visibly confused, probably wondering what I was doing with them after I’d told them I wasn’t involved in Chishiya’s setup. In an attempt at diffusing the awkwardness, I smiled and waved.

‘You guys,’ Usagi whispered. Her voice bordered on distrust, not that anyone could blame her.

I couldn’t tell whether Chishiya was trying to make things better or worse when he held up the full deck of cards and smiled. ‘Thanks to you guys, I have all the playing cards with me,’ he said. ‘Thank you.’

Arisu only looked at him cynically. ‘How did you discover this place?’

Chishiya rooted in his pocket and pulled out the drawing. ‘It took me some time to realise this is actually a map. The route map of the subway.’ He sauntered around the desks. ‘As for what happens when we collect the cards... I thought I would know the answer if I came here.’ His eyes jumped to mine. ‘But there’s something else we discovered instead.’

‘They’re not the gamemasters,’ Arisu said, eyes fixed on the bodies around us.

I stepped over a hand strewn across the floor. ‘カードを集めたので、殺された.’ Because we collected the cards, they were all killed. I struggled for a moment, trying to think of the right words. ‘There must be someone above them.’

Chishiya translated, and Usagi turned to me with worry. ‘But who?’

‘Who knows?’ Chishiya shrugged. ‘They might be aliens... or even God.’

The idea didn’t sound as strange as it should have done. We were in a world where lasers appeared from the sky, and death games were the norm. Even when I first arrived here, I’d wondered whether this was a form of judgement. Nothing was out of the question anymore.

Suddenly, the screens burst into life and white light flooded the room. I jumped, flocking to Chishiya and Kuina’s side.

Have we been caught?

Music reverberated all around us, and the screens displayed all four card suits, along with a message I couldn’t read. It didn’t matter though, as the voice that rang through the speakers was one I remembered well. My stomach dropped.

‘Congratulations to all players!’

The screens blurred until Mira’s wild eyes and subdued smile came into focus. It was now obvious why the Ten of Hearts had taken place at the Beach at the very moment things had fallen apart.

She must’ve been feeding information back, I thought. But back to where?

‘How interesting,’ Chishiya said. Seeking stability, I slipped a hand into his pocket. There was a slight hesitation before his fingers laced around mine.

Mira’s voice shook with a quiet excitement. ‘With the exception of the face cards, you’ve all cleared the numbered games and emerged as victors. It’s a sweet victory, gained by sacrificing so many lives.’ Her expression turned wistful as she stood. ‘I wonder, how many of your comrades have died. Try remembering those who were shot dead with guns.’

A single screen switched to show footage from a miscellaneous game. A group were stood, clutching their guns as they inspected the scatter of bodies across the ground.

They’ve been recording us.

‘And that girl you burned alive.’

A second display opened up, revealing several players watching on as a girl, engulfed in flames, struggled and clawed at her skin and clothes. I held my breath, Niragi’s animalistic cries ringing through my memory.

‘Those struck by lasers, and those that drowned.’

My eyes widened, and I gripped Chishiya’s hand as the inside of the furniture store appeared on-screen. The fractured image of myself flinched, quivering with shock, as the first man and Green Shirt leapt from their seats, only to crumple to the ground, lasers piercing them where they stood.

Chishiya’s fingers squeezed mine, and I gasped, blinking away the image. He must’ve seen it too.

‘Those who’s heads were blown off,’ Mira continued, dreamily. ‘Those comrades of yours, the despair you’ve felt so far, and those dying moments you’ll never forget.’

The screen changed once more, and from the corner of my eye, Arisu winced. Following his gaze, I recognized his partner from the Tag game, his neck exploding around a collar.

I’m so sorry....

Meanwhile, Mira’s expression shifted into pure, childlike delight. ‘Everyone... I’m so touched!’ She held her hand over her heart. ‘All of you players, we’d like to give you a present.’

We?

Chishiya tensed slightly. He had noticed it too. If Mira wasn’t the only gamemaster, just who were the others?

Although Mira couldn’t hear us, Kuina mumbled, ‘Are you returning us to the real world?’

It seemed too good to be true, and sure enough, it was. Mira clapped her hands together excitedly. ‘There will be new games! Let’s play more games together and fight for the face cards this time!’

Aside from Chishiya, everyone sank with disappointment and fear. Just how much more would we have to deal with before we could go home? If we were competing for the face cards, did that mean there were only twelve more games in total, or would there be repeat cards like there were for the numbered ones?

Kuina groaned. ‘New games? You’re kidding.’

‘I don’t dislike the idea,’ Chishiya murmured.

I looked at him, curious. ‘What do you mean?’

His expression was guarded, but before he could reply, Mira’s voice cut in again. ‘The next stage will commence tomorrow at noon. Everyone, let’s have fun together!’

All at once, the screens shut down, leaving us all in the darkness once more. Everything was quiet as we came to terms with what had just happened. It was Arisu who first suggested that we get out of here. Him and Usagi disappeared back through the tunnel, and with one glance at Chishiya and I, Kuina followed.

My fingers were still interlaced with his, hidden within the warmth of his pocket. He was watching me, waiting.

‘These games,’ I said. ‘They’re going to be harder than the others.’

He was silent for a moment. ‘Probably.’

‘About what you said before...’ I began. ‘Do you remember that time on the rooftop of the Beach, when I asked you if you were okay, and you told me it shouldn’t matter to me.’

I could see him thinking back. ‘I remember.’

‘What I said then still stands. You might not care about your own life, and I can’t stop you from taking part in these new games.’ I bit my lip, unable to face him as my eyes began tearing up. ‘Perhaps this is selfish of me, but you need to survive. And if you can’t do it for yourself, then....’

He sighed. ‘You cry too much.’ When I looked up, his lips were curled into that same, familiar smile, only this time, there was nothing cruel or condescending there. ‘We should find the others.’

Wiping my eyes with the edge of my sleeve, I finally let go of his hand, following him back out and through the tunnels. As we climbed the steps of the station, emerging into daylight, a series of loud bangs resounded throughout the city. The others were peering up at the skyscrapers towering over us, and the fireworks that burst like flowers against the sunlight.

‘Let’s make a new deal,’ Chishiya said, idly watching the display. ‘I’ll survive, if you return the favour.’

I looked to him, admiring the way his hair shifted in the breeze, and how the reflection of the fireworks danced in his dark eyes.

Let’s go home together.

‘It’s a deal.’

#alice in borderland #aib #imawa no kuni no arisu #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x oc #chishiya x reader #chishiya alice in borderland

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anythingandeverything1d · 4 years

Text

The tape

Your pov:

“H, do you have anything on Monday?”

Harry walked out of the bathroom, towel low on his waist, water dripping from his hair. “No..” he paused and looked down at his feet before shaking his head and smiling. “No I don’t think so. Maybe a FaceTime call with the boys but that should be it. And thats only if we decide to do that. You know how Louis has been lately with the reunion project.”

You nodded and smiled, rolling out of bed and walking over to him. You raised an eyebrow as he tugged you against his chest. His lips pressed to yours and your arms wrapped around his neck. You pulled away slightly and grinned. “Good. Because you and I have plans.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry’s lips pressed to your neck.

“Mhm.” you laughed softly. “We have things to do. Places to be.”

“There are things we need to do now.” Harry growled, his lips touching your ear. He lightly bit your earlobe and tugged. You could feel his length pressing up against the towel and into your waist. Harry’s hands tugged at his shirt on your body. “Starting with this coming off...” Harry had the shirt pulled over your head when the phone rang. He sighed loudly and looked at you. “Don’t move.”

You laughed and raised an eyebrow. “Yes sir.” you said laying back on the bed. Harry took one more look at you while standing in the bedroom doorway and turned back with a devious smile.

“Fuck it, they will eventually hang up.” He walked back over to you, his body falling in between your legs, the towel falling to the floor. Harry’s lips tugged at yours. His tongue flooded into your mouth and his hands moved their way down your bare chest. His fingers were rolling around your now hardened nipples when the doorbell rang again. Harry ignored it, his tongue slowly making its way down your body. He sucked and gently bit the sensitive skin on your boob, smiling knowing the mark would be there for the next few days. His tongue was at your belly button when his phone rang again, along with several other text notifications. He stood up with a groan, walking over to the phone.

“Harryyy” you whined, your heat dripping between your thighs from the anticipation.

“Hello?” he answered holding up a finger to wait.. “What do you mean? No, there shouldn’t be any stories out, I’ve been with (y/n) all weekend....Fuck okay I’m coming.” Harry looked at you and and you sighed as he dug through his drawers. You stood up and walked into the bathroom to clean up since this didn't seem to be going anywhere now. Harry was now getting angry. You could hear him yelling into his phone frustrated with whoever was on the other side. You jumped in the shower and once you were done, Harry seemed to be finished with his call. He had gotten fully dressed and smiled softly when you walked back into the room.

“Where are you going?” you asked confused. He was dressed for some kind of meeting it looked like.

“I have to go talk to my management team...”

“Why? Wait, no. We were supposed to go out...Harry we've had this date night planned for weeks and the guys are all expecting us....”

Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry...I don't have a choice here...”

“Babe-”

“(y/n) look I can’t go anymore okay? I’m sorry but thats just how its going to be tonight.”

Your mouth dropped. Harry rarely got angry at you and when he did it was normally your fault. This was out of line. “Whatever.” you turned and walked back into the bathroom, locking the door.

“Babe I’m sorry..” He knocked softly on the door. “I didn't mean to yell...”

You didn’t answer but you heard him leave. You sighed and rolled your eyes annoyed he had ruined the moment and gotten angry. You were also annoyed he was putting management above you. You were supposed to be the most important thing in his life. At least that’s what he had told you when you had argued last time about him not being home enough.

Niall’s pov:

Niall was sat around a table with Louis and Liam. They were all joking about how Harry and (y/n) never got the time or date right when they had planned an outing. They also joked about how Harry had to bring (y/n) to everything. Not that they didn’t love her, but it kind of defeated the point about a guys night. She had gone through so much with them though...from One Direction days to solo albums. She had been there through it all, making sure all of the guys stayed in touch during the hiatus. The waitress was just setting drinks down when everyone’s phones started blowing up. No one seemed bothered by the fact their phones were all blowing up. Liam was flirting with the waitress and Louis was backing him up. Niall picked up his phone, read the first message, and reads aloud mocking the article title, “HARRY STYLES SEX TAPE LEAKED!”

“Give it a rest.” Louis laughs. “Harry is more careful with that kind of stuff than anyone I have ever met.”

“It’s just a hoax like the rest of them, made to get views and people talking. Management probably leaked it.” Liam added winking at the waitress across the room.

Niall hasn’t looked up, he’s scrolling through the article and clicking play on the video. Niall’s face pales and his mouth drops. The guys all look at him concerned that he hasn’t joked back. “What is it?” Louis asks trying to take the phone.

Niall places the phone down on the table for everyone to see. ‘It’s not fake.....”

“Shi-” Louis starts but Niall shakes his head.

“It’s also not (y/n).” he finishes looking up at them.

“No way. There’s no way.” Liam shakes his head.

“What do we do?” Niall asks laughing uncomfortably.

“We need to call Harry. What if they don't know.”

“It’s trending on Twitter, there’s absolutely no fucking way he doesn’t know. The real question is...does (y/n) know?” Louis shakes his head.

“She’s probably pissed.” Liam adds taking a sip of his drink.

“No she’s probably upset. No wonder they didn’t come.” Niall stands up. “We should go check on her. Make sure she’s okay..she what happened when they found out. They’ve been dating for years, this is going to kill her.”

The guys nodded, leaving money on the table and standing up. Louis laughs, “Niall the hero, saving (y/n) from her despair.”

“Shut up Louis.” Niall shakes his head. “This isn't about me.”

“Oh yeah, didn't you have a crush on her like when they first started dating?” Liam laughs.

“Yeah, but clearly that’s been over. She’s just my friend. I want to make sure she’s okay.” He led the guys from the restaurant and jumped in the car, map questing directions to Harry’s house.

Your pov:

Harry had been gone almost an hour and you had yet to hear anything from him. You were just laying on the couch watching reruns of friends when someone knocked at your door. You sighed and stood up, running to answer it. You smiled as the door opened. “Niall!” You hugged him tightly and then moved on to the others. “Lou!” Louis laughed uncomfortably and you gave him a confused look before moving to Liam. “Liam...” Liam was shifting nervously not looking at you and you stepped back. Paparazzi were rushing towards the gate so you moved the party inside. “What’s wrong?” you asked. They all looked like they were going to be sick...Niall kept looking like he was sorry. Liam looked away every time you looked at him and Louis just had his lips pressed together.

“Did you forget about lunch?” Louis asked grabbing your arm and pulling you to the couch.

You sighed. “Lunch? I thought we were doing dinner...is that why you are all upset. I’m sorry about not showing up...Harry just got a call and left without even saying anything.”

“A call about what?” Liam asked sitting across from you on the couch.

“I’m not sure....management called but he didn’t say where he was going. Why? What do you guys know that I don't?”

They all looked away. Niall sighed and pulled out his phone. “Have ya checked Twitter at all today?”

“No....why?” You grabbed your phone and unlocked it. Louis pulled it from your hands. “What the hell Louis?”

Louis looked at the guys and shook his head. “This isn’t our fight. Harry should talk to her about it...not us. He’s going to be pissed we got involved.”

“It revolves around her though. She’s tagged in it all. She has a right to know.” Niall argued. “Harry shouldn’t have done it in the first place.”

“Done what?” you felt sick. What was going on? What was Harry hiding? Why were the guys acting like this? You looked at Liam. He had been like an older brother to you for years. “Liam.”

Liam sighed and nodded to Louis. “She needs to know. When we leave she’s going to figure it out. We need to be here for her when she does.” Louis nodded and handed your phone back. You stared at all of them confused.

“Why are you treating me like I’m not sitting right next to you?”

“Just look at the phone...” Niall sighed.

You pulled up Twitter. You have over 4,000 notifications which was never a good sign. You clicked on the first one reading out loud, “Harry doesn’t deserve (y/n). She’s too good for this.” You clicked another. “I feel so sorry for (y/n)...Maybe there's an explanation.” The last one you clicked had your mind spinning. “Imagine just waking up and finding out that not only has your boyfriends sex tape been leaked but also that its not featuring you. Here for you (y/n).” Tears were flooding your eyes when you looked up at Niall. “It’s not true....right? Tell me it’s not true....” Louis scooted closer to you and draped an arm over your shoulder.

“I mean technically we don’t really know...”

“What the hell do you mean Louis. We all watched the video at lunch.” Niall was pissed he was pacing back and forth between the two couches.

You shook your head. You were now crying. Louis was rubbing your back and you fell into his lap. “No. It can’t be real.” Liam moved over and sat next to you. He held your hand and gently squeezed. “I want to see it.” You looked up, tears flowing down your cheeks. “I want to see proof.”

Niall sighed and clicked on the original link before handing you the phone. You carefully read every line and clicked the video. Your stomach flipped. Harry was in his room, your room. He was naked, his tattoos clearly visible. There was a girl. It wasn’t you. He was kissing her, she was stripping, he was pulling his pants down. He didn’t seem to be drunk. He was talking dirty to her. He called her beautiful. He had sex with her. You flew up from the couch, running to the bathroom. Niall was at your side. You threw up, the video you had just watched had physically made you ill. Harry had cheated on you. He had filmed it. It was out in the public now. Niall held back your hair and Louis brought a cup of water. “(y/n)...” Liam started.

You sank to the floor, your back against the toilet. You were sobbing. You couldn’t breathe. The boys looked like they were contemplating how to handle this. “When did this come out?” you asked looking at him.

“We aren't sure exactly...we saw the notifications at lunch-”

“So Harry was having sex with me or trying to when all of this was happening. He was trying to fuck me when his fucking sex tape was released to the public.”

“Uh-” Louis tried interrupting but you kept going.

“Harry cheated on me. After 7 years. He just decided to fuck someone else?” you were processing everything in your head out loud to the boys who had no idea what to say. “What did I do?” you cried harder. Louis sighed and pulled you into a tight hug.

“You didn’t do anything love. Harry’s mistakes are his own. They don't revolve around you. He’s a fucking idiot for doing it.”

“We don’t know the full story either...I mean we all know how media twists stories...”

“Liam, he’s having sex with-with another girl. What full story is there that makes that okay?” Liam closed his mouth and sighed. You let Louis pull you to your feet. “I want to leave.”

“What?” Louis asked confused.

“I want out of this house. I don’t want to be here when Harry gets back either. I want to leave.” Louis handed you a tissue and nodded.

“You can come to my place love, I’ll wait with ya.”

“We all will.” Niall added and Liam nodded. Niall grabbed an extra pair of clothes and some toiletries while Louis helped you out to the car. The paparazzi were all shouting questions asking what the story was. You wished you knew. Liam handed you your phone but you shook your head.

“I don’t want it. I don’t want to see anymore.” He nodded sadly and sat in the drivers seat. Niall joined with a bag of your things and you all drove to Louis’. L

ouis set you up in his guest bedroom and asked if you needed anything. You shook your head and pulled off your shirt. Louis turned around but you didn’t care at this point. You threw on a pair of comfy sweatpants that Niall had grabbed you along with a crop top. You wiped your tears and snot on your old shirt and crawled into bed. You had finally stopped crying but you were exhausted.

“We are going to order some food...anything sound good?”

You shook your head no, not trusting any words that might come out of your mouth. Louis nodded and closed the door softly, not wanting anymore tears to begin. Your mind was moving a hundred miles a minute and it made you feel sick. You closed your eyes and tugged the blanket to your chin. Images of Harry and that girl flashed through your mind as you drifted off to sleep.

Eventually, you didn’t know how long it had been, you woke up. You heard doors slamming, Niall shouting, Liam trying to diffuse the situation, but overall you heard one very loud and clear deep voice. “Where is she? Louis tell me where the fuck my girlfriend is!”

---

So I got this as a request and ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT. I actually was planning on using the first part of this as a similar story but when this request came through I decided to mesh the two together. Hope you enjoy!

Check out part 2 here: The tape (part 2)

xoxo

#one direction #one direction imagines #one direction fanfiction #directioners #Harry Styles #harrystyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles blurb #louis tomlinson fanfiction #louis tomlinson #niall horan fanfiction #Niall Horan #liam payne #liam payne fanfiction

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pandoraborn · 3 years

Text

Previous Word count: 1164 words Tags: friendship, heart-to-heart, trauma response, mentions of abuse, mention of manipulation, manipulation of minors, tentative trust

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

Pacing nervously in front of Tommy’s house is nerve wracking enough, where Ranboo feels like the eyes of the entire SMP are on him. It’s even more unnerving when Tommy is standing out front, staring at him through narrowed eyes.

The last time Ranboo had made an attempt at talking, he’d gotten scared and fled. This time, Ranboo actually wants to talk, but he feels like a complete idiot about it. He doesn’t like the way Tommy is staring at him, again, through narrowed eyes and a knowing expression on his face.

At least Tommy is smart enough to not say anything first.

Ranboo feels like he could make a game out of this. He could see how long it takes for one of them to break, he could turn this into a staring contest, he could do any number of things to drag this out, but he knows Tommy’s patience is short, and temper, even shorter. While Ranboo could drag this out, he doesn’t want to get on Tommy’s bad side. He knows the grudges Tommy is known to hold, and he’d rather avoid that if possible.

He forces himself to move closer.

“Can I help you Ranboo?” Tommy asks. He lifts his hand, where Ranboo can see a map. He briefly lets his mind wander, trying to figure out why Tommy has a map and what he plans on doing with it. He wonders if it’s a map to a mansion...no. No, Tommy wouldn’t have one of those. Maybe buried treasure?

“Why do you have a map?” Ranboo blurts. “What’s it for?”

“None of your business, it’s private.” Tommy doesn’t even sound angry or defensive. His tone is short all the same, and Ranboo flinches away. “That’s also not why you’re here, otherwise you wouldn’t have stood pacing outside of my home for ten minutes.”

“I just...need to talk.”

“It’s about Dream, isn’t it?”

Wow, Tommy really doesn’t beat around the bush, does he? Ranboo flinches back, feeling as though Tommy can see his innermost secrets and thoughts. It’s not the first time Tommy’s scrutinized him. He should expect this from someone who’s been through a similar situation, but it’s still uncomfortable to hear.

“Yeah, it’s about Dream.”

“It’s about you sleepwalking, isn’t it?” Tommy turns away, heading back into his house. He places his map in the enderchest stashed in the corner, then closes it. “Because it’s not a secret that you’re sleepwalking everywhere. Everyone’s seen it.”

“Yeah, but I’m certain it’s Dream causing it.” The more he says, the easier it’s starting to feel. He can trust Tommy, he hopes. Tommy understands, Tommy knows.

“I reckon you’re right,” Tommy says. His tone is far too casual for something so serious, but then again, Tommy doesn’t deal with his issues very well. “Remember how I told you I used to wake up underwater?”

“Yeah, I don’t...I don’t understand that. I don’t want to ask you to elaborate but-”

“Come inside, please.” Tommy beckons him. Ranboo looks back over his shoulder, not seeing anyone close by. He follows Tommy though. Tommy blocks off the entrance with dirt before leading Ranboo into the back room and closing the door. “Ranboo, I used to think it was me just sleepwalking, but I don’t normally do that. Because in exile, I never slept well, unless it was to wake up underwater. It can’t be a coincidence, especially since Dream was the only person I ever saw. Now you’re sleepwalking everywhere.”

Ranboo nods. “I’m digging something, or somewhere. I don’t know what I’m doing, and I wake up in the weirdest locations. People’ve said I speak in a different language, too. Honestly? I’m a little freaked out over this. I want my mind to be my own. I want to know that when I go to sleep, I stay in my own home.”

Tommy nods at that, leaning against the table and resting his chin in his hands. “So why come to me about this? I don’t know how to help you, and even if I did, I don’t know if I trust you.”

This feels like a blow. Ranboo had been so caught up in his own emotions about having someone to relate to, he’d forgotten that Tommy had been through hell and back. It’s natural that his faith in people would be shaken, though it still stings. He still trusts Tommy, how Tommy feels about him doesn’t change that.

“I know,” Ranboo says quietly. “You’ve been through a lot-”

“Not about that, dickhead.” Tommy’s teeth are clenched. “You’re living with Techno, idiot. Did you not remember what he did?”

Oh, right. He had completely forgotten the complex relationship between Techno and Tommy. Ranboo still can’t tell if he’s a replacement or an actual friend, and he can’t tell if Tommy is legitimately angry or jealous. He doesn’t want to know in either case.

“I didn’t come to talk to you about Techno.” He gently tries to redirect the conversation back to the original point. “I came to talk to you about Dream.”

“Dream’s a wrongin’.” The response seems immediate, instinctive, robotic. Ranboo doesn’t like hearing it, because it’s all Tommy really has to say about the entity.

“Anything else I should know about him?”

“Everything’s fine. He’s in jail, things in the server are looking up, my hotel’s been built. The asshole’s where he belongs, I’m fine.”

“Except for the part where we’re talking about me, and how he’s still controlling me, from jail.” It’s Ranboo’s turn to narrow his eyes. He can’t blame Tommy, not completely. It’s easy to tell Tommy’s still frazzled.

“Just say ‘no Dream, I don’t like you like that’, when you dream. He’ll back off and realize that fucking with minors isn’t cool. And you can totally control your dreams, before you say anything. Just have someone help you go to sleep, and when you start dreaming, just punch yourself in the face and you’ll be a god.”

Ranboo almost wants to write this off as classic ramblings, but...the logic almost makes sense. Lifting a brow, he leans forward. “I think you’re onto something here.”

“No I’m not, why are you listening to me? Why are you in my house?”

“You just told me to lucid dream. You literally just told me to use psychology on myself to confront Dream.” Ranboo smiles. “I think I know how we can do that.”

“What are you on about Ranboo?”

He smiles mysteriously and gets to his feet. Before leaving, he grabs one of Tommy’s hands and yanks him out of his chair. “We’re going to find someone who knows how psychology works, Tommy. We’re going to get to the bottom of this.”

“Let me repeat myself: what the fuck are you on about?”

“You’ll see.” Ranboo hums as he leads Tommy down the prime path. Word on the streets is there’s a new therapist in town, and he’s going to book the first two appointments.

This is going to be fun.

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tagging:

@mysterio-is-the-truth, @egopocalypse @dragonsight9

#mcyt #mcyt fanfiction #dream smp #dream smp fanfiction #tommyinnit #ranboo #friendship #heart-to-heart #dealing with trauma #to be continued #ask to tag #long post #miishae writes

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nonbinarykai · 3 years

Text

:Welcome to my Blog!:

🔥🔥🔥

:what’s the purpose of this blog?:

This side blog was made in an attempt to create a platform where I can freely infodump about Kai without the rules and restrictions I place on myself. It’s also used in an attempt to try to get the fandom to appreciate one of my most favorite characters in the show. With the idea of that someone out there will always be able to see my posts

🔥🔥🔥

:who am I?:

This blog is a side blog, I am not yet comfortable sharing my main as I want to try to get used to being able to freely express my ideas without the burden of self impose rules, but here’s some basic info about who I am!

- Non-binary, she/they

- Asexual lesbian

- minor

- adhd and dyslexia

🔥🔥🔥

:DNI:

Do not interact, people who breach this will be blocked

- Gr//nfl/me or any Lloyd x ninja shippers

- Gr//nStorm shippers

- any morro x ninja shippers

- terfs, exclusionists, truscums, maps/no-maps/p*dophiles

- prosh/ppers or anti-anti’s

- any “whump” accounts

- mocking or insulting a character who has dyslexia because of there dyslexia

- 18+ nsfw accounts

- any pro-life accounts

- Christians

🔥🔥🔥

:Blog preferences:

Things I won’t block you for but would prefer you not do on my blog

- As much as I talk about sad or depressing topics that revolve around Kai, I much appreciate it if you don’t tag or respond to any of my content with “Angst >:)” or “Time to torture Kai” or any of that stuff, even if it revolves around other characters. I’m not very comfortable with the way these topics that I try to handle seriously are treated in a way that makes it seem like fun or cute. I am not against angst I just do not wish people refer to my content as angst in that way.

- try not to share any “whump” content with me, as I am heavily uncomfortable of that side of the community and would much prefer to stay out of it. Angst fics are fine though.

- please don’t make fun of my spelling, I have dyslexia and usually don’t bother to double check my spelling, so when people point it out it makes me feel embarrassed

- if you get inspired by a au or fan season concept of mine please ask permission before you can create your own version. Headcanons/interpretations you don’t need to ask for. Also If your au is obviously completely unique from the original idea you don’t need to ask.

- don’t send asks about cis Kai, he doesn’t exist, he’s not real

- don’t reblog any of my lgbt focused posts with “am I the only one who headcanons the ninja as cishet” or Anything along those lines. It’s incredibly rude and annoying and your not going to get a nice response.

🔥🔥🔥

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besanii · 4 years

Text

shattered mirrors 50

WangXian ; 1368 words

[follows part 05]

He watches from the parapets as the soldiers assemble in the courtyard below, the foot soldiers arranging themselves into neat formations and the cavalry gently nudging their horses in line. There are wagons laden with supplies—food, water, weapons for use on the road—although the majority had been sent ahead in batches to replenish the supplies on the front lines. Overhead, the blue clouds of Gusu Lan curl across white silk banners fluttering in the breeze, the same shade of blue as the soldier’s robes beneath their polished lamellar armour.

It is easy to spot Lan Wangji and Lan Guoyan amongst the crowd: they are the only ones with helmets decorated with plumes of Gusu Lan blue, and their polished armour gleams silver in the sunlight.

“Wei-gongzi.”

He turns and bows with his fingers clasped before him.

“Taizi-dianxia,” he says in greeting.

“You may rise,” Lan Xichen says, waving him to his feet with a smile. He is alone, his personal attendants standing further away and just out of earshot, their heads bowed to offer them privacy. “I am surprised to see you here, and not down there with Wangji and Guoyan.”

In the courtyard below, Lan Guoyan is shouting orders at the men and gesturing towards the wagons while Lan Wangji frowns beside him, his attention focused on the map in his hands. Wei Wuxian shakes his head.

“I thought it would be best if I let them work undisturbed,” he says. “I fear I would only hinder their task and delay their departure.”

“Would that not be a good thing?” Lan Xichen asks, a twinkle in his eye.

Wei Wuxian ducks his head, his cheeks heating.

“I’m not sure what you mean, Taizi-dianxia,” he says carefully.

Lan Xichen laughs softly, no more than a quiet exhale accompanied by the faintest of smiles and a shake of his head; he walks over to the edge of the parapet, his hands tucked behind his back as he surveys the preparations.

“Jing-junwang withdrew his petition for your hand this morning,” he says, voice deceptively light. When Wei Wuxian does not reply, he continues: “I must admit, Wei-gongzi, I was surprised to receive his petition in the first place.”

“Jing-junwang has shown me great favour,” Wei Wuxian replies without raising his head. “I am unworthy of his affections.”

“I’m sure that isn’t the case,” Lan Xichen tells him magnanimously. He turns away from the parapet finally and looks at Wei Wuxian with a critical eye. “Forgive me, Wei-gongzi, but I had always been under the impression you and Wangji…or was I mistaken?”

Wei Wuxian takes a step back and bows low at the waist.

“Taizi-dianxia,” he says. “Wei Wuxian asks for your forgiveness.”

Lan Xichen looks surprised. “Whatever for, Wei-gongzi?”

Wei Wuxian straights, but keeps his head bowed, his cheeks flushed. This far above the ground, the noise from the soldier’s preparations down below is little more than a constant buzz punctuated by the occasional horse’s whinny or the clash of metal, but it is familiar enough to soothe Wei Wuxian’s nerves as he formulates his reply to Lan Xichen with care.

“Wei Wuxian has been fortunate to receive Er-dianxia’s affections,” he says. “For that, I am eternally thankful.”

“But you do not share the sentiment?” Lan Xichen asks, keeping his voice level. Wei Wuxian shakes his head quickly to disabuse him of the notion.

“Please do not misunderstand, Taizi-dianxia,” he says. “I am unworthy of such high regard from Er-dianxia. But…I hope to be.”

The last words are spoken softly, hesitantly, and he dares not raise his eyes from where they are fixed on the ground at Lan Xichen’s feet. He has not had many personal dealings with the Crown Prince during his time in Gusu; the Crown Prince no longer lives within the Palace now that he is of age and married, and Wei Wuxian had been preoccupied with lessons,but he knows enough—not just from Lan Wangji’s deep-seated respect and love for his brother, but also what he overhears from ministers and servants alike—to know that he is just and fair, and unfailingly kind. Such men are rare, and he would very much prefer to win his favour than cause offence. Gusu is a powerful ally, after all, and he is here to strengthen that alliance.

There is also the fact that he is Lan Wangji’s brother. If nothing else, Wei Wuxian would like to win his approval for Lan Wangji’s sake.

“Wei-gongzi,” Lan Xichen says now. “Please raise your head.”

His eyes—a darker shade of hazel than Lan Wangji’s, more of a light brown than a honey-gold—are kind when Wei Wuxian lifts his head to meet his gaze. A small, knowing smile plays at the corner of his lips.

“I am glad to hear that, Wei-gongzi,” he tells him. “Although it is customary for men of power to take multiple concubines—especially those of us in the Imperial Family, in order to secure the lineage—neither my brother nor myself, or even our Fuhuang, is very much inclined towards the practice.”

He takes a step towards Wei Wuxian, the light in his eyes turning serious, more meaningful. In that moment, Wei Wuxian glimpses the statesman, the future Emperor, behind the brother: the self-assurance, the confidence, and the commanding presence in the set of his shoulders, the tilt of his chin, and the sharpness of his gaze.

“Wei-gongzi, you’ll find my brother can be quite single-minded in his devotion,” he says seriously. “Once he has set his heart and his mind on something—or someone—it is there to stay, for better or for worse. There will be troubling times ahead for all of us and the future is uncertain, but I sincerely hope my brother’s affections are not misplaced.”

Do not break my brother’s heart.

As if Wei Wuxian would even entertain the idea.

“Taizi-dianxia, please be assured,” he says, sinking into a formal bow as expected of a courtier to his future Emperor. “I would sooner cut off my own head than betray Er-dianxia and your faith in me.”

This seems to mollify Lan Xichen’s concerns; the severity of his expression clears into something lighter, friendlier, and the smile returns to his lips. He nods his head slowly and motions for Wei Wuxian to rise.

“I am glad, Wei-gongzi,” he says, and turns back to the view over the parapet. “And I am sure Wangji will also be thrilled to hear it. Have you spoken to him?”

“Ah…we’ve come to an understanding of sorts, Taizi-dianxia,” Wei Wuxian replies, scratching the bridge of his nose with an awkward chuckle. “With the current state of affairs, we agreed it would be best to wait until after everything has settled before we make anything official. We both have our duties, and they must come first. But afterwards…” he trails off with a wistful sigh. “I guess we’ll see.”

Lan Xichen hums thoughtfully.

“And you will be returning to Yunmeng in Wangji’s absence.”

“Yes, Taizi-dianxia,” Wei Wuxian replies with a short bow. “I will be leaving later today, once the troops have departed and I have settled my affairs here.”

“Very well then.” Lan Xichen walks towards him in measured steps until they are shoulder-to-shoulder. “Safe travels, Wei-gongzi. I look forward to seeing more of you after the war.”

He leaves as Wei Wuxian turns and bows low in farewell. When he is alone again, he leans over the parapets, his folded arms resting on the stone walls. Down below, Lan Wangji looks up amid the crowd of people surrounding him and catches his eye; Wei Wuxian smiles and waves.

Yunping attacked. Heavy casualties. Return immediately.

Lan Wangji gives him the slightest of nods in return, but there is a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth, and turns back to his work. Wei Wuxian allows his smile to fade.

Everything will be alright, he thinks, echoing Lan Wangji’s words from last night as his heart sinks. The war will be over soon.

Notes:

Fuhuang (父皇) - Imperial Father, used by children of the Emperor when talking to/referring to their father.

ANNOUNCEMENT

Due to Tumblr messing with the way things show up in tags, there are some changes I’ll be making in hopes of circumventing those issues until I work out how best to do this.

Tracked tag: originally was “shattered mirrors au”, now I’ll also be tagging posts with:

shattered mirrors fic - for fic updates

shattered mirrors verse - for non-update, verse-related posts

The existing tag will still be used just in case, but from what I can see nothing is showing up in it regardless of whether or not I’ve removed the links, so I’m being extra cautious.

Master Post is available on the sidebar of my blog.

You can also copy the following and append it to the end of my tumblr homepage: shattered-mirrors-master-post

Ko-Fi link is available on the sidebar of my blog.

If you want to look me up directly, my username is besanii

This information is also pinned at the top of my blog for reference.

#mdzs #wangxian #shattered mirrors fic #shattered mirrors au #王爷机 X 花魁羡 #my writing #lan wangji #wei wuxian #lan xichen #set after 005

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