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sehnsuchts-trunken · 2 months

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Red or Blue

Tangerine x reader <3 based on this lovely prompt

it's kind of a slow burn, which is so unlike me, but- welp. whatever? ig? no triggerwarnings anyway, they don't even kiss

masterlist

(he's genuinely so fine i am unwell)

"This is all your fault", you huff, crossing your arms as you stare at the array of candies in front of you.

"How's any of this my fucking fault?", Tangerine seethes, trying to keep his voice down somewhat (which is already better than what he does most times), but hardly succeeding.

"If you'd listened to me, I wouldn't have been backed into that corner in the first place and Lemon wouldn't have had to come save me", you bite back, narrowing your eyes as you pluck a bag of gummies off the shelf. "Ergo, he wouldn't have got hurt."

"Lemon likes the red ones better", Tangerine grunts, taking a step closer to you as an elderly couple turns the corner and pushes their cart into your aisle. "And 'ergo' what the fuck do you mean, love? I wasn't the one to fucking break his leg."

"You don't use ergo like that", you correct, tilting your head back to him as if that nickname hadn't just sent your heart into cardiac arrest. "Also, I'm pretty sure Lemon likes the blue ones just fine."

"Yeah, just fine, but he likes the red ones better, that's the difference."

Tangerine reaches for the bag of red candy and his arm brushes your shoulder, immediately restarting your heartbeat with a deafeaning thump.

"I thought the red ones 'made his stomach feel funny' yesterday", you argue, even though you can already hear the way your resistance is crumbling as his eyes meet yours again, some of that feral fighting instinct in there that you recognise from missions.

"That was the green ones, love", he corrects, plucking the bag of blue candies from your grip and shoving it back into the shelf. You gasp in outrage. "Just listen to me for fucking once and take the goddamn red candy."

You put your hands on your hips and narrow your eyes at him.

"Oh, since when is the fucking problem me listening to you?", you seethe, your lips still parted, ready to shoot a whole tirade at him in the middle of this 24/7 supermarket when you're suddenly interrupted by a hearty chuckle to your left.

Tangerine's head snaps around a nanosecond before yours does.

"I'm sorry", the elderly lady says, her hair white as snow and her arm looped through what you guess to be her husband's. "I didn't want to interrupt you two, I just- I can remember how stressful that was, being young, just married, dealing with the little ones..."

"I'm sure if we'd had these twenty-four hour stores when we'd just had children, we would have stood right there arguing too", her husband laughs.

You blink at them helplessly for a few moments. What the fuck is happening? Hello? Marriage? Kids?

"It gets better", the woman chuckles. "We're happy and stress-free now, aren't we?"

Her husband hums in agreement and presses a kiss to her temple.

"And you look like a lovely couple", she goes on, smiling at you. "You'll manage this stage too."

This stage.

Oh, dear lord.

She's talking about this stage of being married. This stage of having young children. Because you're standing in a 24/7 supermarket candy aisle with Tangerine, arguing about which colour to get for Lemon, which she seems to have interpreted as a nickname for your son.

Your fucking son. Your and Tangerine's son. In your marriage.

"Oh, um", you stutter, brushing a hand through your hair as you stare at the couple, doing your hardest not to cast even a fucking glance Tangerine's way. Your cheeks are stinging with heat. You don't need him to see that. "Actually, we're not-"

"Not married yet", Tangerine interrupts, his hand flexing and clenching around his bag of candy. Any train of thought you'd previously had shatters completely and your head whips around to him after all - is that a faint dust of pink on his cheeks? Is it really what you think it is? Fuck, should your heart be hammering this fast and strong and loud?

"Ah", the woman grins. "How times have changed. We'd had to get married as soon as I was pregnant."

"Are you engaged, then?", her husband asks, raising his eyebrows and smiling pleasantly.

They're so calm. Meanwhile, your heart is doing somersaults in your chest.

"Uh", you say, not all that intelligently.

"Yeah", Tangerine rasps, his voice hoarse somehow. "Few months now."

You blink wordlessly at him. What the actual fuck is he doing? There's no reason to lie. None. You're not undercover.

"That's nice", the woman smiles. "Well, have a good night then."

They're already half-turned away when she looks back over her shoulder.

"Oh, and for those candies", she adds with a conspicuous grin. "Just take both. Let your son decide which he likes better when they're side by side."

You swallow.

"Uh, thanks", you mutter, unsure if they can even still hear. "Good night."

Tangerine drops the bag of candies into your cart. Then he's quiet. And you're quiet.

Too quiet.

For too long.

You don't know what the hell has just happened.

"Tangerine", you breathe, your voice low, and your eyes settle on him slowly. "Since when are we engaged?"

He grunts and drags his eyes away from you, grabbing your bag of blue candies off the shelf again and putting it in the cart with the other one.

"Since fucking never, love", he grumbles, just before his hands close around the handles of the cart. "But I wasn't about to say that, was I?"

"No?", you guess with a frown as you force yourself to move, to trail after him down the aisle. "Because?"

Tangerine turns to look at you like you're mad.

"Because they could've been fucking spies, love", he snarls, as though that's obvious and you're somehow dumb for not thinking of it.

"You're not serious."

He can't be serious.

But he stops the cart and turns to look at you, way too close and way too tall, and if you'd thought you had seen a blush on his cheeks before, it was definitely gone by now. There's that familiar dangerous glint in his eyes instead. Somehow, that puts you more at ease.

"Do you see me bloody laughing?", he seethes, his fingers clenching so hard around the handle that his knuckles turn white.

"I don't think I've ever seen you laugh", you mutter and swallow hard at the way his eyes fixate on yours. "You really made up a whole ass lie for an eighty-year old couple because you thought that they could be spies?"

Tangerine huffs and turns back, pushing the cart with even more ferocity now.

"Yes, love", he grunts.

Your stomach drops. You don't know why.

Instead of dwelling on it, you fiddle with the rings on your hands and fall in step with him.

"Well", you hum. "If you ever do buy me a ring, I don't want it in blue or in red."

#tangerine x reader #bullet train #bullet train tangerine #bullet train tangerine x reader #x reader

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toournextadventure · 3 months

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a novel life pt.4

Summary: You were really starting to understand a few things about the younger generation. For example, every time you looked at Sam, you thought "I can fix her." It was happening a bit too frequently for your liking.

Word Count: 4.8k Warnings: Swearing, Scream levels of violence, suggestive themes Pairing: Samantha Carpenter x Reader (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) (pt.5)

“Baby?”

You kept your eyes on whatever was on the floor.

“You broke it.”

“Tara, shut up.”

“Look at me.”

It wasn’t moving.

“Hey.”

The red creeped and crawled toward the flowers on the ground.

“Baby.”

Hands held both sides of your face and tried to pull you in the other direction. Gentle, but firm. It didn’t matter, they could pull all they wanted, it didn’t stop your eyes from staying glued to the thing in the middle of the living room floor. The shape was familiar, and you were aware that you should recognise it. But the harder you looked, the more the shape seemed to blur and distort.

“Stop looking at it.” Sam. “Look at me.”

You couldn’t.

You opened your mouth to answer, stopped to clear your throat, and started again. “Is that a body?”

Everyone seemed to hesitate.

“Yes,” Sam answered.

You nodded slowly.

“Is it dead?”

“I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

A sigh. “Tara.”

“Yes,” Sam repeated.

You nodded again. The red almost touched your shoes.

“It’s a dead body?”

“Jesus fuck, Sam, get them out.”

“Come on,” Sam said softly, keeping her hold on your face to pull you with her.

Your eyes never left the scene until she had pulled you into her room and shut the door behind you both. There was a dead body in Sam’s living room. A body. A dead one. In the living room. Right there on the floor. Visible to god and anyone who opened the front door. Which included you.

“You need to breathe,” Sam said. “Look at me and breathe.”

You inhaled deeply and blinked slowly. Only when you opened your eyes did you actually see Sam for the first time that evening. She looked stunning, as usual. Her beautiful brown eyes looked lovely in the artificial light of the apartment. You tried not to notice the blood on her arms.

Not even her beautiful, kissable face could distract you from the scene that had plastered itself behind your eyelids.

“There’s a dead body on your floor,” you said.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Sam said with a humourless chuckle.

“It looks like a dead body,” you repeated, “in your living room.”

She sighed. “Maybe it is what it looks like, but I can explain.”

You shook your head and took a half step back. Did you want an explanation? Perhaps you could act like you hadn’t seen anything. That would create plausible deniability, would it not? No, not entirely, you had still seen a body in your girlfriend’s apartment. Your deniability wouldn’t be that plausible.

As you took another half step back, you were finally far enough away to realise what was hanging off Sam’s frame. A black cloak. Or robe. Whatever it was, it was familiar. Very familiar. The only thing missing was the mask. Your head tilted slightly.

Perhaps you liked the robe. It looked… nice.

“Please let me explain,” Sam said as she stepped closer.

You took a step back, but nodded in her direction.

“He followed Tara home because he thought she was a kid,” she said. “It was for good reason.”

Good reason. Someone had died. Horrifically, if the amount of blood was anything to go by. And the amount of knives. Someone had clearly suffered. What about that explanation made it such a good-

-oh.

Okay, perhaps it was a good reason.

“Is this the first…” you sighed and shook your head, “accident?”

The way Sam’s face fell was answer enough.

“Okay,” you said with a nod. “Okay, I need to go home.” You couldn’t look at her. “I need to think.”

“I can walk you home-”

“-it’s okay,” you said. She stopped moving closer when you held your hands up in front of you. “I promise I’ll call.”

The look on her face was enough to break your heart, but it was sitting backseat to the body that you couldn’t help but look at as you walked out of the bedroom. J was already dragging it to the bathroom. They stopped, smiled, and waved at you before continuing to move. Beside them, Tara gave you a look that was akin to what you would give a dog at the shelter.

You bent down and picked up the flowers from the floor, placing them gently on the table. Blood started to pool underneath the petals as you left the apartment.

—---

Sleep had evaded you since you had gotten home a few nights ago. The world had simply kept turning. You had handed out the graded essays in class; you had introduced new material. You had ordered takeout because the last thing you needed was burnt food from your own kitchen. The world kept turning, and everything kept moving forward.

And you still hadn’t called Sam.

You had turned the volume off on your phone the moment you had gotten home. If you saw the notifications from Sam, you would cave and call her back instantly. Against all your better judgements that told you to think everything through, you would have called her and gone back to her apartment to face whatever trouble came your way.

There was no promise you wouldn’t still do that. But the least you could do was think through every aspect.

And you did. You tossed over every possibility, every facet of truth, every miniscule detail that may or may not have mattered, starting with the biggest fact; Sam was Ghostface. Or she was a Ghostface. Clearly Tara and J were involved to some degree. So on one hand, Sam was the only one, on the other hand, there were three Ghostfaces.

Splendid.

That knowledge forced your hand, and you bought all the books and movies and every little news article you could find, old and new. The movies were on in the background - they were far more disgusting than you had planned, you couldn’t bring yourself to truly pay attention - while you read the books. The majority came from that news reporter, Gale Weathers. They were a little tasteless, but seemed legit nonetheless.

Your handwriting littered the books, pointing out motives, tactics, patterns, anything you could find. Most were petty, certainly not worth killing for. At least Sam had given a fair reason; you could understand that one. Not killing people because your father had cheated on his wife.

Thankfully Sam hadn’t gotten that level of pettiness from her father.

Inevitably you found the online forums that claimed Sam had been the killer after Woodsboro. All the theories were, quite frankly, baseless. From an academic point of view, they would have been tossed out within the first few words. There was no reasoning, no critical thinking, simply everyone jumping at the chance to blame someone else because it was popular.

It was no wonder Sam had thought you were stalking her on the day you met her.

When all your research was said and done, you had what amounted to the entirety of a second thesis at your disposal. Everything from past Ghostfaces, their motives, conspiracies being disproved, all the way up to the most recent sighting not too long ago. In New York City. With J, Tara, and Sam in the news.

Things had added up, and you were ready to face the solution.

Sam answered before the first ring had finished.

“Are you all at the apartment?” You asked.

“Yeah,” Sam said; you could all but hear the relief in that one simple word. “We’re here.”

“Stay there, I’m coming over,” you said quickly. You nearly hung up, but spoke again. “I’ll bring dinner.”

You didn’t wait for Sam to say anything else; you were in the proper headspace you needed for the upcoming conversation, and you couldn’t risk losing it because you missed her. Stay strong, you told yourself, say what you need to say. You weren’t going to get sidetracked, this was going to be solved, and you weren’t going to let anything get in your way.

Except for the rundown pizza place on the way to the Carpenter apartment. It was a rather delicious place, somewhere you wouldn’t have imagined visiting if it hadn’t been for Sam. You grabbed the three pizzas you knew everyone would eat, making sure to tip generously before continuing the trip to the apartment.

You also stopped for some more flowers.

And a few sweets.

And that new game you knew J had been wanting.

But then you were finishing your walk to their apartment because nothing could stop you. You were brave. You were going to talk with Sam, and you were going to talk with everyone, and you were all going to come to some form of conclusion so you could close out this thesis and move forward.

The walk up the apartment building stairs was more terrifying than it had ever been in the past. But you were brave. You took it step by step, giving yourself a pep talk with each flight. By the time you got to the apartment door, you were feeling thoroughly hyped. Nothing could stop you. Not even the… door that you… couldn’t open… because your hands were too full…

You set the bags on the floor to open the door, but then you were walking back into the apartment. A man on a mission, that’s how your dad had always described people that walked with the same attitude you were in that moment. It didn’t matter that you wouldn’t look up just yet even when you knew they were all looking at you. You closed the door, set the bags and flowers and pizzas on the table, and then you looked up.

And oh god, you had missed Sam so much.

When it was all said and done, you had actually only been away from Sam for eight days; barely over a week. No time at all where most things were concerned. But each minute that ticked by had been agonisingly slow, almost painful to the very atoms that made up your being.

“Grab your dinner,” you said with authority. And a shaky voice. “And back on the couch so we can talk.”

Tara tried to hide a laugh, and J wasn’t far from doing the same, but that was okay. They could laugh at your attempts at being brave; as long as they listened. And they did. You got out the plates and handed them to everyone so they could grab their food before they politely made their way back to the living room.

You made sure to give Sam a kiss on the cheek when she passed.

“Now,” you said as you stood in front of everyone on the couch. “We’re going to talk about what happened.”

“Hell yeah,” J said around an already full mouth, “lay down the law.”

“Thank you,” you said. They gave you an enthusiastic thumbs up. “We’ll start with last week.”

Everyone was silent, sans the occasional sound of chewing. That was good, they were going to let you talk. Perhaps they had prepared for such a situation. Surely they had seen this coming at some point, right? It wasn’t like they thought they could get away with murder forever, right?

Right?

“Sam told me the reason you-” you sighed and shook your head, “-and it’s an understandable reason.”

“Understandable?” Tara asked. “I think it was a bit more than that.”

“The Professor is talking,” J said, “don’t interrupt class.”

“Please continue,” Sam said with that small smile that always made your knees weak.

No, focus. You had a mission.

“We all know murder is wrong,” you said. “Illegal, even.” You looked each of them in the eye. J was nodding enthusiastically, Tara rolled her eyes, and Sam… wouldn’t meet your gaze. “Since we’re all in agreement, I have a few questions.”

“I didn’t study for a pop quiz,” J said.

“I’ve seen you study,” Tara said, “it wouldn’t have helped.”

“Have I told you I love when you’re mean?” J asked with a lovesick smile. It was precious.

And unnecessary.

“A few questions!” You repeated a little louder. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sam pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Please just ask,” Sam said without removing her hand.

“Okay,” you said softly, folding your hands behind your back, “when did all of this start?”

“After the New York attacks,” Sam said.

“I’m still salty about that,” J mumbled, quickly taking another impossibly large bite of their pizza.

“They’ve healed well,” Tara said softly. In a rare gesture of kindness - at least in front of you - she lifted her hand and gently brushed her thumb over the scars on their cheeks.

You gave them a moment before clearing your throat to get their attention once again.

“Who all is involved in these…” you bit your bottom lip as you considered your wording, “activities?”

“You mean murders?” Tara clarified.

“Stop it,” Sam said with a pointed look before facing you again. “All of us.”

“I feel like we’re in detention,” J whispered.

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” Tara asked. The niceties were long gone, it seemed.

You nodded at the information, ignoring Tara’s gibes. “All of you,” you said to yourself. Your feet froze in place, stopping your pacing. “Which one of you did I see in the alley that night?” You asked, turning to face them.

“That was me!” J said proudly with their hand raised high. “Did I scare you?”

“So badly I was sick,” you said instantly.

“Hell yeah,” they mumbled with a cocky nod of their head as they leaned back on the couch. “That was a good night.”

You stood there and watched as they looked at each other with not shame, but abject exasperation. So that was their attitude about the entire thing. You should have known, it wasn’t entirely a surprise. The fact that J had waved at you before you left last week should have been enough of a warning. But it didn’t exactly sit right with you.

There should have been shame from murdering someone. Your research had told you the Ghostfaces of the past had been particularly remorseless in their actions, but the three people in front of you weren’t like them. They were troubled, but they were kind. They had accepted you - even if it took Tara a bit of time - and had allowed you to care for them.

Sam was your Sam. Nothing about her was indicative of some internal Ghostface turmoil. She was soft. Night after night, she sat with you and talked out her feelings from the week. Multiple times she had voiced her frustration at being a Loomis, stating she was better than her genetics.

Nothing was adding up.

You had walked into this meeting with a plan; measure their responses to the allegations and get them to stop. But you very well couldn’t convince them to stop if they suspiciously felt no remorse or shame, could you? There wouldn’t be near as big of an impact if they didn’t agree with your arguments in the first place. That alone left you with very few options.

You stood up straight.

Very few didn’t equate to zero.

“Would any of you be willing to stop?” You clarified.

Sam opened her mouth.

“No,” Tara cut her off. Sam didn’t argue. “We just wouldn’t tell you.”

“Very well,” you said with a nod to yourself. “Then we’re going to come up with a few rules.”

“You’re putting rules?” Tara asked. “On Ghostface?”

“No,” you said, “I’m putting rules on the three of you.”

“Oh shit,” J said while Sam tried to hide a smile, “we got ourselves a mastermind.”

You did your best to hide your visible flinch. Perhaps this wasn’t going to be such a wonderful idea. Would you be connected to all of this? What if they were found out? What if you were found out? You couldn’t hold up under pressure, what if someone interrogated you? No, no this wasn’t going well at all.

But they all sat dutifully in front of you, waiting to hear what you had to say. You couldn’t just leave, or change your mind, and it was far too late to pretend you hadn’t seen what you had. No, you were going to have to be brave. You were brave.

You were brave.

—---

It turned out you were, in fact, not brave.

In the moment, you hadn’t been able to come up with a genuine rule for any of them. The only one you had managed to get out was “please don’t do it in my apartment.” Which, to your delight, they had all readily agreed to. Aside from that, you had stumbled over your words and decided you would come up with rules later.

Tara had laughed. You couldn't even be upset about it.

At least you could see Sam again, which, in the end, made everything worth it. You had missed holding her, and feeling her hands on your neck, and her lips pressed against yours. No one said a word when you stayed the night, doing nothing but holding Sam close and reminding her how much you had missed her.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said from your couch; her books were lined neatly on the table. Something you had loved about her from the very first moment you had seen her study.

“For what, darling?” You asked as you sat down beside her. She mumbled a “thank you” as she took her plate from you.

“Ghostface,” she said softly. You quickly turned to look at her even as she averted her own eyes.

“Oh,” you said before looking back down at your plate. You didn’t quite know how to respond to that. “It’s alright.”

“It’s not,” she said quickly.

You sighed and placed your plate on the table. Not on her books, of course. Then you took her plate as gently as possible, placing it down as well before turning to face her. Not just look at her, but to properly face her. If she wished to talk, you would give her your full attention.

“You deserve more,” she said.

So that’s where it was going. Okay. Now this, you could handle this.

“Before you go on this tirade of self-abuse,” you said, reaching out to grab her hands and pull them into your lap, “may I say something?”

After a slight hesitation, Sam nodded once.

“You and I are both old enough to make our own decisions, yes?” She nodded slowly. “Then trust I am old enough to know what I do and do not deserve.” Her eyes fell to her hands in your lap. “If I felt you were not what I truly wanted, I wouldn’t have stayed.”

“You don’t need to be brought into all of this,” Sam said anyway with a shake of her head. “You’re better than some traumatised Woodsboro kids.”

“I’m not better,” you said quickly, “just different.”

“Sounds the same to me,” she said with a humourless laugh.

“Samantha Carpenter, my darling dearest,” you said. You waited until she looked back up at you before you brought her knuckles to your lips, leaving the softest of kisses upon them. “I love you dearly and no, ah,” you laughed lightly, “hobby of yours will turn me away.”

There was a light blush on her cheeks when she met your eyes. “You love me?”

Oh.

Oh dear.

“Was that the first time I’ve said so?” You asked.

“Yeah,” Sam said with a smile.

You sighed. “Far less romantic than I had planned.” Your eyes widened as you looked back up. “But no less true,” you said quickly.

She shook her head before leaning forward, and you eagerly met her halfway. Her lips were soft; they always were. The faintest taste of tobacco always lingered no matter how long it had been since her last cigarette. A constant in the ever-changing lives you both led. If you could have found a way to frame it all to keep with you forever, you would have.

“I love you too,” she mumbled against your lips.

You held still as she moved across the couch, crawling into your lap and kissing you again. Her hands rested on your neck and not for the first time, you did your best to keep your cool. It was something about the contrast between the gentleness of her kisses and the strength in her hands. You were putty under her fingers; she knew it.

It wouldn’t be polite to ravage her before she had eaten dinner. If there was one thing you knew about Sam, it was that she would forget to eat. Often. And as ready as you were for a very particular meal of your own, you couldn’t push back the concern of when she had eaten last. Truly eaten, because everyone knew neither she nor Tara had enough free time to cook for themselves very often.

“Darling,” you said softly. Her nails scratched lightly against your neck as she hummed for you to continue. “You need to eat.”

“I’d love to,” she said, her lips already starting to move across your jaw.

“Real food,” you clarified.

You felt more than heard her huff before her head fell into the crook of your neck. She didn’t like when you laughed at her, so you didn’t. Not out loud, at least. Your thumbs rubbed against her lightly exposed hips until she relaxed a little more under your touch.

“Now?” She asked.

“Now,” you repeated.

Sam sighed again, but lifted her head and looked down at you. The unhappiness was clear on her face. Quite frankly, at that moment, you didn’t care. There was plenty of time left in the evening to have your fun, and she would thank you later for making sure she had eaten something.

“Do quickies require food first?” She asked. Her eyes fell slowly along with her hands, raking her nails lightly along your skin until she reached the first button of your shirt.

“Yes they do,” you said.

She undid the second button.

“Are you sure?” She asked.

You swallowed loudly. She undid the third button, and you could feel her fingers ghosting across your skin. Perhaps she made a good point, perhaps you didn’t have to have food before a quickie. After all, that was the whole point, was it not? To do it before getting back to everything else? And when she bit her bottom lip and looked at you, you knew you were a goner.

She knew it too.

“Maybe we have a little time-”

-the door to your apartment flew open, hitting the wall with a bang. Your hands gripped Sam’s waist as you both jumped and looked toward the commotion. The door slammed shut once again before you could properly get a good look at who was in the two black robes.

“Hey guys, wanna watch a movie?” J asked breathlessly.

“Are you serious?” Sam asked; she still didn’t remove herself from your lap.

“I just wanted to freak him out,” Tara said as she held her arm. You noticed a single drop of blood on the floor. “He had creeped out Anika.”

“There was one rule, Tara,” Sam said.

“It was this or go to jail, which would you prefer?” Tara asked.

“I’d prefer if you were more careful-”

-a knock at the door caused everyone to shut up and freeze.

“NYPD,” the muffled voice said from the other side of the door.

“Fuck,” J whispered.

You couldn’t really argue with that statement. No one had moved, and the police were still right outside the door. Sam’s nails dug into your skin, leaving behind a sting that, in any other situation, would have been lovely. But this wasn’t any other situation, you were all frozen while the police knocked on the door again.

“Go to my room,” you said as you lifted Sam off your lap and stood up. “Lock the door.” Tara and J nodded before running as quickly as they could to your room. “Stay here,” you told Sam.

You gave her a quick kiss before heading over to the door. Your fingers played with the buttons on your shirt before you decided better of it. Behind you, you could hear Sam stand up. With a deep breath in and a slow exhale, you decided to be brave and opened the door.

The policeman instantly looked you up and down before looking behind you. You hoped he saw Sam in slight disarray. A second policeman was leaning against the wall outside, not even having the decency to look at you before speaking.

“Did two people in black robes come in here?” He asked in a gruff voice.

“No sir,” you said quickly, “no visitors today.”

“You sure?” The first officer asked. “We saw them run into this building.”

You needed to come up with a better lie. Something more convincing. What could be convincing enough? You couldn’t blame the neighbours, you knew nothing of them. If they saw the two coming into the building, you would have to think of something. What would work? Clearly those fancy degrees you had meant nothing.

Ah.

Maybe not entirely useless.

“I’m really sorry, I haven’t noticed anything,” you said. “I’ve been a little, ah,” you cleared your throat and looked back at Sam. She gave you a small smile, and you turned back to the police, “preoccupied tonight.”

The officer looked behind you. You didn’t dare turn away and waited patiently for him to focus on you once again. Hopefully he couldn’t hear your heart attempting to beat out of your chest. He just needed to hurry and leave.

“I’m sorry we interrupted your night,” the officer finally said. “Thank you both for your time.”

You nodded and gave them both a smile. “Stay safe, officers.”

They tipped an invisible hat at you before leaving, and you didn’t wait for them to be very far before closing and locking the door. You let out a heavy sigh and let your head fall against the door with a solid thud. That was… far too close. Was that something they had all dealt with before? Had the police come to their doors before?

You took a deep breath and stood back up. Okay, you were brave, you had been very brave. When you turned around, Sam was still looking at you, but there was a different look in her eyes. You didn’t know what it was; at that moment, you were still too wound up to care.

“Come on out,” you said once you had walked over to Sam and wrapped your arms around her waist.

“They’re gone?” Tara asked while J opened the door.

“Yes,” you said with a nod, “they’re gone.”

“I thought we were fucked,” J said.

“I wish I was,” Sam mumbled softly enough for only you to hear.

You ignored the heat in your face. “Not tonight,” you said.

“Thank you,” Tara said in an uncharacteristic show of gratitude. “We didn’t know where else to go.”

“You can always come here,” you said. Tara nodded and made as if she was going to leave the apartment with J. “Don’t even think about it.”

Sam sighed.

“We need to go get cleaned up,” Tara said.

“You can clean up here,” you said forcefully. Or you hoped that’s how it came out. “Then we’re laying down some ground rules.”

Tara kept eye contact with you. You would have caved at any other point in time; there was nothing more terrifying than a Carpenter. It wasn’t questionable, there was no room for argument, it was a matter of fact. But you had just lied to the police for the first time in your life. Ever! If this was going to be a common occurence, then you were going to stand your ground.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Tara mumbled, but grabbed J’s hand and dragged them to the guest bathroom anyway.

“Thank you,” Sam said softly once she heard the shower turn on.

“Of course,” you said, placing a lingering kiss behind her ear. An idea sparked in your mind. “How long do you think it’ll take them?”

“Tara showers slow,” she said as she turned around in your arms to face you. “And if they’re both in there, it’ll be a while.”

You hummed and pressed a kiss to her lips. “I did tell the police we were preoccupied,” you said as you started manoeuvring her to the couch.

“Yes you did,” she said with a slowly growing smile.

“I’d hate to lie to them,” you continued, followed by another kiss.

Sam let herself fall onto the couch, pulling you down with her. She wasted no time in getting to work on the remaining buttons of your shirt. Her lips felt heavenly. You knew she still needed to eat, but something more important had come up.

Besides, you were happier to eat out anyway.

#samantha carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x reader #samantha carpenter imagine #sam carpenter imagine

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purriteen · 4 months

Text

Ad victor spolia, chapter three

content warnings: incest, manipulation, eventual Stockholm Syndrome, toxic & dark!Coriolanus Snow (as if that isn't his default), named!reader, ANGST, eventual smut, non-con, age gap (5-6 years)

author's note: this is where it gets really toxic, so be prepared please this is so OOC I’m ashamed

word count: 2,678

Previous chapter

Next chapter

Perhaps it was about image after all. Your brother had invited guests to what you had assumed was a private dinner, just the two of you. You recognized Strabo Plinth and his wife sitting at his right, but he’d saved you a seat next to him. Deep down you had hoped that their spending time together was just some phoney traumabond, after all Coryo’s classmate and fellow peacekeeper - their son - had been executed for treason when they were both serving together out in twelve, and the boy didn’t seem to have a lot of friends, at all. You knew why, of course. He was district. You still remembered the gossip surrounding him when you had first started middle school. He was in the same class as your brother, and the year after that they both went on to the Academy. Even kids your age were talking bad about him behind his back.

You gritted your teeth as you walked over to him, feigning a smile when he pulled out your chair and gestured for you to sit. You obliged. Only now did you get a good look at the people sitting around the table. You only recognized a handful, as some of the other high-up politicians working alongside your brother and an old classmate of his. Mrs Plinth gave you a warm smile, pointing towards a couple steaks neatly arranged on a platter not far from where you were sitting and saying something you couldn’t quite make out. You smiled and nodded, leaning over to grab the smallest piece you could find.

You could feel his eyes on you, watching your every move. It felt like he was testing you - first he neglected to tell you about whatever this was, and now he wanted to see how you’d react. If you’d finally learned to think quickly on your feet. If your presence could actually be useful in these events. Even the gown felt like a test - presumably to figure out if you’d look good on his arm. Like he was trying you on, rather than having you try the dress on.

All that dining etiquette Coriolanus had forced you to learn when you were barely ten years old still stuck with you. That was the first time you got a good glimpse of your father in him. His impatience, the complete lack of compassion, the way he smacked your wrists for getting something wrong. At that point Tigris had intervened, but Grandma’am had simply shrugged it off and told some anecdote starting with ‘back in my day’.

You refused to even acknowledge his presence. You hadn’t been prepared for this, you knew you were still too vulnerable. Maybe that’s why he did it; if you broke down or embarrassed him in front of other people again, he’d have all the more reason to isolate you and keep building off of the story of his mentally distraught little sister. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of that.

You gloated in the fact that his guests seemed to take more of an interest in you than Coriolanus for a brief moment. An older woman you faintly recognised remarked on how much you’d grown since she last saw you. Another jokingly pointed out how you’d been the one to inherit your mother’s good looks. A pleasant laughter erupted from right next to you at this, but you could sense the tension in your brother’s voice.

Your heart was pounding in your chest when you replied, “Oh, but Coriolanus inherited one thing I didn’t, our father’s talent for scheming.” You meant it as a half-joke, but you could tell by the subtle tightening in his jaw that Coriolanus wasn’t pleased. Meanwhile it took the other guests a second to determine that it was okay to laugh.

It was laughable how shallow they all were, how they so loyally danced around on the minefield that was their president’s ego, all for just a glimpse of power.

By the time dessert was served you were deep in conversation with the man sitting on your left, feigning interest in his latest endeavours within finance as he tried to work his charms on you. You were surprised at first, but you supposed it made sense that an up and coming young weasel businessman would try and use you and your brother’s position to better his own standing.

You figured you could always use the excuse of common courtesy if Coriolanus decided to confront you about it afterwards. You’d never admit it, but you relished in the knowledge that you were getting on his nerves, and that you still managed to be subtle enough for him to not intervene. You reckoned that you were playing your cards well.

Until the guests started to leave one by one. Eventually you had to say goodbye to the young man who you’d learned was named Salus Bellthorn - judging by his last name he wasn’t anyone important, likely the son of one of your brother’s colleagues or similar - and one of your brother’s old classmates, who was surprisingly well-rounded.

Finally, it was just you, Coriolanus and the Plinths. You tried to remain polite, despite the distaste you felt for them for splitting up your family and humiliating Grandma’am. All you could think about was how she had died thinking her grandson had ditched her for a couple of greedy district folk. Soon enough he took notice of your suddenly uptight demeanour, making up some half-assed excuse about fatigue.

You didn’t like the thought of potentially allowing your reputation to become collateral damage, but you were pleased at the thought of forcing Coryo to clean up after you. He was always excellent at damage control. So it wasn’t surprising when he escorted the two of them to the front door to say goodbye, leaving you behind in the dining room with the remaining servants.

By the time he returned, all of that charm and pleasantry had melted right off of him. He marched right over to you, gripping your arm hard enough to bruise. You winced in pain, and he seemed to realise the two of you were still not alone in the room. He glared down at you as he tugged on your wrist, forcing you to stand up. He visibly cooled down, taking on his usual stoic expression, but you knew better than to think he was calm. “Helvius, clear the table and tell the kitchen staff they’re done for tonight.”

He didn’t even give his chief of staff the chance to reply before practically dragging you back towards the grand staircase, causing you to nearly trip on the fabric of your own dress as he rushed upstairs. Neither of you uttered a single word the entire way back to your room.

When you finally got there, he let go of his calm facade again, showing you the Coriolanus you’d grown to hate. He slammed the door behind you, each of your wrists in one of his pale hands as he held you in place. His eyes frantically searched your face for any sign of weakness, but you refused to allow him the pleasure of seeing you break again.

“Did you enjoy your dinner party, Coriolanus?” You finally inquired, after what felt like hours of glaring at each other in silence. Your voice was dripping with venom as you spoke, taunting him. You watched as anger flashed in his eyes, before he took a deep breath. You liked knowing that he needed to put effort into keeping his cool because of you, despite the fear you felt in this situation. It took you until now to realise how hard your heart was pounding, but you figured you had nothing left to lose.

Just when you thought he’d calmed down, he shoved you down onto the floor, catching you off guard. You grimaced as you crawled back and away from him, all the way until your back hit the side of your bed. He followed, crouching down in front of you and once again trapping you beneath him. He leaned closer, as close as possible with your knees protectively curled up to your chest.

“You find it funny, don’t you?” He spat as he grabbed your chin, pressed between his pointer and his thumb. “Do you enjoy ruining your own future, my darling sister?” He raised an eyebrow, his tone deceptively gentle. “Every time you try to cause a scene in front of me my patience wears thinner, Hersilia. Right now? It is holding on by a thread.” You swallowed hard, struggling to keep up the stone cold, unbothered look on your face.

“Is this the future you want for yourself? You’re here for your own good, but don’t forget. I don’t need a reason to punish you.” He sounded harsher this time. Less filtered. “Even the districts think you’re sick, isn’t that amusing? No matter how much they despise me for simply keeping them in check, they’re no better than your friends. Happy to turn on you on account of gossip and hearsay alone.” He dryly chuckled, running his thumb over your bottom lip.

“Do you understand the gravity of your predicament yet?” You shiver, the back of his knuckle gently tracing down the exposed skin of your neck, until he gets to the point where it meets your shoulder. His hand slowly, delicately coils around your neck. Your heart nearly stops, and you look up at him. His eyes immediately meet yours, relishing in the fear he can sense in your gaze. Eyeing you like a predator inspecting its next meal.

“Why don’t you just poison me, Coryo? You think I’m a threat, or at best a burden. So why do you not just make me go away? We both know you have the means to!” You whisper, but it comes out more as a hiss, and even then he can still hear the resentment in your voice. You stay like that for a couple of minutes, eyes boring into each other, quiet enough to hear a needle drop. His hands stay right where they are, holding you in place and only threatening to choke, enough to keep you on edge. Your cheeks are burning up, betraying your attempts to show him no weakness.

He finally sighs and gets back up on his feet. He doesn’t move though, gesturing for you to get up as well. “I do not hate you. I do not wish to see you dead. You on the other hand,” He pauses, taking a deep breath. “You don’t seem to feel the same way. You keep pushing me away, after everything I’ve done for you.” He reaches out his hand, and you reluctantly place your own in his and allow him to pull you back up.

“Tell me, dove. Do you even realise how much I’ve sacrificed for you?” He waits for a second as if expecting an answer to his clearly rhetorical question, before continuing. “When you were little, Grandma’am couldn’t even look at you. Not after what happened to our father, she didn’t want to get attached. And Tigris, she tried, but when you got sick, she started to act like you were already dead. I stole food for you, slept next to you by the fireplace for a week until you started to get better. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you.” He continued, a vulnerability, gentleness, in his voice that you couldn’t remember hearing from him ever before. It sickened you as much as it tugged on your heartstrings.

“Everything I’ve done I’ve done to protect you. You’re a direct target for my opponents, and likely even common men. I can’t stand the thought of losing you, dove,” He caresses your cheek, your head nearly spinning as you try and process all of this. “Ever since I returned almost five years ago now, you’ve been so distant, so cold. I was too busy trying to secure our finances to see that you were slipping away from me.” You could hear the trembling in his voice, see the bottled up desperation in his eyes.

“I just want to keep you safe, Silia. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Now he’s whispering directly into your ear, the hand previously wrapped around your neck now gently caressing your shoulder. “I won’t lose you like I did mom and dad, like I did Grandma’am. I regret so much that I didn’t try harder to be there for you, even when Tigris shut me out,” He shakily exhales, his words making you finally snap out of it.

Your hands press against his chest, firmly pushing him away. You’re awestruck by the dishevelled, vulnerable look on his face at first. “What, what do you mean, Tigris shut you out?” He runs a hand through his hair, taking a deep, shaky breath. “Don’t you remember how cold she was after I returned? She didn’t even want me to be alone with you, you know. I figured she would’ve told you something, perhaps warned you to stay away from me. God, she was always envious, Silia, envious because she’ll never experience what we have, envious because she’s an only child. Can’t you see that?”

Your brows furrow, sitting down on the bed as you try to take a moment to think this through. But he immediately descends upon you again, crouching down once more and holding your bare, shaking hands in his as he attempts to make eye contact. “Don’t be like that, Hersilia. Don’t shut me out again. You know I’m the only one around here who truly cares about you. Why else would Tigris have abandoned you? Why else would your friends be so easy to bribe into leaving you? Why else,”

He pauses, gently grabbing your chin and tilting it to make you look him in the eye, “Would I keep you here, as close to me as possible, when I could’ve sent you off to a mental institution, tried to do away with you? You mean so much to me, Silia. I just want to keep you safe. You won’t ever have to worry about going hungry again, about being kicked out on the street, about being found out as a fraud and humiliated by your peers. You have to understand, I was so afraid that you would break, that I’d lose you too. I truly believed that the only way to keep you safe was this.” He just keeps going, overwhelming you with all these new revelations.

“Please. Coryo,” You meekly whisper out, tears rolling down your cheeks. “I need time to think, you’re, you’re confusing me so much and I don’t know what to feel,” You babble on, tears turning into sobs that wrack through your small frame. “You scare me, Coryo, your mood swings, this constant game of push and pull, it scares me,” You hiccup, and before you know it he’s got his arms wrapped around you, pressing your face into his chest as he strokes your hair, hushing you.

“It’s okay, you’ll be okay, you’re gonna be just fine. Won’t let anything bad happen to you.” He kisses the top of your head, and you have no choice but to accept his shallow attempts at comforting you. You realise that he thinks that he’s got you now, that you believe him. You’re not sure if you do or if you’re still strong enough to resist him, but in this moment all you can do is fall apart over and over again in his arms, allowing yourself to forget for a moment why you only have him left to turn to in the first place.

Meanwhile, Coriolanus is overcome by a sick sense of satisfaction as you unravel right in front of him. He’s far past the point of feeling guilty now, no. He’s certain he can shape you into exactly what he wants in time, but he hasn’t forgotten how you tried to embarrass him tonight.

He’ll make sure you won’t forget it, too.

taglist: @caffeine-addict-slug, @phoward89, @catesbaroquecasahouse

#banner credit: @benkeibear #dead dove do not eat #minors dni #dead dove fic #dark!coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x female!reader #coriolanus snow x you #named reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas fanfiction #thg fanfiction #eventual smut

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mactavishsgfandwife · 4 months

Text

141 and Their Embarrassing Childhood Haircuts (HC)

just a silly idea i had about what funny haircuts the 141 boys would have been given as children (that they would definitely find embarrassing) and how they’d react to you seeing it simon’s is a little sad (☹️) but mostly just silly fluff not proofread because it’s wayy too long (oops)

his aunt leaves the both of you alone in the sitting room, on her way to procure some tea for you all. on your own in the room with him, you begin to wander around and inspect the mementos that line the walls. your fingers trace a trail along the top of the bookshelf and over the filing cabinet, before you turn your attention to the collection of little family photos on the mantelpiece.

mostly, they’re photos of relatives you don’t recognise - wedding photos, holiday snaps, the compulsory photo of a toddler in a bubble bath - but right in the middle is a small blue picture frame, with little angels painted around it and, well, the photo inside…

you burst into a fit of giggles and his head turns from the random bowl he was closely inspecting, on the side table next to his seat, to you.

"what is it?" he grins as he looks up at you, amused.

but when you turn the picture frame to him so that he can see, that entertained chuckle turns into an audible groan…

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

i feel like simon was definitely that kid in class when you were about 6 who had a shaved head

like, a little boy with a buzzcut that was never allowed to be grown out

si probably got some judgement as a little kid for looking a bit ‘rough’ :( when in reality he was just a normal, sweet kid who liked batman and angel delight (this cheap pudding from the 70s that we have in england which you mix with milk to make a mousse kind of thing, it’s lowkey so good and it’s random but i swear simon would have loved angel delight as a kid)

i reckon his dad buzzed his hair and probably wasn’t very gentle about it

a photo of simon as a little kid, in his blue primary school uniform. he’s got no hair - well, as close to no hair as you can get without actually razoring it off. gappy teeth, a big smile and the beginnings of adult si’s strong nose. he’s pretty cute, and the photo is a little yellowed from age, with a little tear in the corner.

"oh, god…" he groans, finding the photo a little humorous, "don’t remind me."

"you look so cute!" you laugh softly, "how old were you here..?"

"pfft… probably about 6 or 7," he shrugs, seeming a little dismissive.

"have you ever not had a buzzcut?"

"you’re not seeing those photos, love," he laughs out loud, and stands up to take the photograph from you.

he goes to put the photo back, to bring the focus of the conversation to something else, but for a second you think you almost catch his thumb gently stroke the cheek of the little boy in the photo, a momentary sadness in his eyes. but that’s only for a moment, and as he places the frame back into its proper place, he grins and turns to you.

"what, y’think it’s a good look? reckon it’d suit you, we could match."

Captain John Price

bowl cut.

i just imagine price’s mum placing a literal bowl on his head and just cutting around it, as he sits on a stool in the kitchen

and he would have turned up to school the next day feeling like such a handsome little boy because his mum had told him how smart he looked 😭 bless

a photo of price, wearing his scouts uniform with pride, turned slightly to the side to display the ‘merseyside scouts’ patch on his sleeve and the union jack on his chest - but the star of the show was that ungodly bowl cut on his head. it was like something out of an old yearbook photo, and he looked very pleased with himself and all his scouts badges, despite the medieval squire-esque trim. it was funny, but he was also a really cute kid.

"ah," he chuckled, standing up to get a better look, "blimey, what a haircut…"

"i like it! i think you should go back to this, honey. it’s a good look."

"i’m not so sure about that," he teases, "but if you really want me to…"

Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish

johnny is pretty energetic, i feel like he would definitely have cut his own hair as a kid - terrible fringes and very wonky moptops galore. and he definitely did it more than once.

imagine his mum is just making tea, having left him playing with some arts and crafts supplies. but when he runs in giggling, a pair of paper scissors in his hand, she screams and almost drops the saucepan. much to his amusement

"JOHNNY, DÈ RINN THU?!" (johnny, what have you done?!) as she chases him down the hallway to take the scissors away before he can do any more damage

it’s a photo of johnny, aged 5 or 6, beaming as he poses with the glasgow rangers goalkeeper allan mcgregor. you only know who he is because johnny’s mentioned once or twice before meeting the goalkeeper of some random scottish football team in 2002, as if he met brad pitt or the king of england.

at first, it looks like his hair was ruffled by the football player, but then you realise… it’s just cut like that? as johnny peeks over your shoulder, he laughs, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"oh, i remember! best day of my life at the time. until I met you, that is," he grins.

"i like the haircut," you tease, pointing to his uneven fringe in the photo, with random patches of long and short hair scattered throughout.

"oh, aye, i was a little hairdresser!"

"don’t quit your day job," you smirk, gently placing the photo frame back down on the mantlepiece. he laughs at the cheeky grin appearing on your face, and shakes his head,

"aww, y’don’t like it? thought girlfriends were supposed to be supportive, y’know."

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick

honestly i wasn’t sure what to write for gaz, given i don’t think he would be rocking the literal bowl cut or walking around bald at 5 years old

but like every victim of curly hair ever (i can relate) i bet he got something stuck in his hair 😭 whether that was comb, or gum, or something really random (once i genuinely got a live snake stuck in my hair lmfao)

"kyle, look!" you laugh, beckoning him over to look at the photo you found. when he sees it, he lets out a groan…

"god, my scalp still hurts from that…" he laughs softly, rubbing his head as he looks at the photo of himself at 8 or so years old. with a superman action figure stuck in his hair. how did that happen? honestly, who knows. his eyes are a little red, and his cheeks are shiny from tears, but it seems like he’d cheered up by the time the photo was taken, giggling at himself with a big smile on his face, as his mum desperately tried to untangle the mess he’d gotten himself into.

"how do you even do that?" you grin, feeling his hand resting on your back, his thumb gently rubbing up and down your spine. he shrugs, with a laugh.

"i really don’t know. had to embrace baldness for a bit, but i think i was more upset that superman got thrown in the bin. that was the real tragedy."

"aww… i’ll buy you a new one, if you like," you tease, just as his aunt returns with the tea.

this. took. YEARS. to write. 😭 and it’s miles long. thanks for reading!

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jongseongsnudes · 6 months

Text

twenty three (finale)

warning; 🥰 1.3k words. masterlist. a/n; happy birthday to our youngest baby who is growing up way too fast before our eyes 😭💖 can’t believe my baby is already 18 😭😭😭

“can you hurry up, you’re gonna miss the start! don’t you want to see your boyfriend play? it’s the finals!”

“and tell me why you’re more excited to see him play than me?” your brows raise at your friend who had been a little too eager the entire day, “or perhaps you’re just excited to see player number 6?”

she throws you a dirty glance but doesn’t stop pulling your arm towards the back oval where the crowd was already going wild. from a distance, you could spot your school’s team doing a huddle and in the middle of it all stood the reason why you even came tonight.

niki nishimura.

as if he could sense your presence, the boy looks up just as you reach the bleachers, your gazes immediately on each other. the view of him jogging over, all done up in his captain jersey and gear had you unknowingly holding your breath, the scene identical to ones from cliched high school flicks. and you were the main lead!

“why are you late!”

“would you prefer it if i didn’t come at all?!”

the captain throws you a dirty gaze, similar to the one your best friend had given you earlier, making you giggle.

“you are so lucky i like you,” the boy rolls his eyes before taking a step closer towards you, “now hurry up and give me my good luck kiss.”

you don’t have to look around to know that most of the audience were now focused on you and niki. hell, you could feel it! but what can you do when the tall boy is also looking down at you, his eyes hopeful, waiting for a kiss from his girlfriend.

so you get on your tippy toes and kiss his cheek, a move that immediately has the boy in a giggling fit.

your heart really might explode at this point because just look how cute he is!

“so are we playing orrrrr?” a familiar deep voice is heard from behind you, one you recognised as belonging to the sarcastic transfer student.

the rest of the team bursts into laughter at haruto’s words, making their bad tempered captain blush and almost pop a neck vein at the same time. poor kid.

“alright lets go!” niki screams, pointing to the field. he waits for the players to all disperse before leaning back down to kiss you back, a smile back on his lips, just like the one that’s already on yours. “i’ll be back in a sec. don’t go anywhere!”

“i’ll be right here nishimura.”

ruffling your hair, the boy then runs off towards his team who are already in position. the crowd roars to life as the game kicks off into full gear.

although you’re trying to pay attention to the game, your mind would wander off every two seconds. perhaps it’s because your mind is always too occupied with niki in his uniform to care about anything else.

just like right now.

“goooo taki!” your best friend suddenly screams from your side, surprising you, “what... i’m just cheering!”

“rightttt. for taki only?”

talk about being sus.

the girl nudges your shoulders before focusing back on the game, her cheeks evidently a shade darker from the mention of player number 6’s name. also known as taki.

before you knew it, the game was down to the last ten seconds. it had been a pretty tough match from what you could see, niki looking much more stressed out than usual. but as expected already, your boyfriend’s team came out as the winners in the end, the cheers that followed instantly after was almost deafening.

you watch as niki and the team huddle up, cheering and celebrating their victory. it makes you want to cry, knowing how hard he had been training all year for this. it has surely paid off.

you were too busy jumping up and down with eunji to notice niki running towards you, until it was too late. cheers turn into squeals when he lifts you up by the waist, holding you high up above the ground in excitement.

“ni- niki!! you’re so sweaty!” you try to push against his chest but this is niki nishimura you’re talking about, the annoying-est person you know, so of course he doesn’t stop.

instead, the boy pushes forward, smooshing his cheeks against yours, allowing his buckets worth of sweat to drench you too.

“ni- nishimura!”

the captain finally puts you down to your feet but his arms are still protectively around your waist, keeping you close. he’s full of smiles, eyes almost in half moon shapes, the sight has you instantly mirroring as well.

“you’re so annoying!” you punch his chest, “you’re lucky i like you.”

to your surprise, niki pulls you forward, hugging you tightly but instead of complaining anymore, you just let him. you couldn’t care less about the sweat, hell you wanted to hug him forever.

“congratulations niki, i knew you’d win.”

“well duh,” he says with a smug grin but before you could even say anything back, you feel a soft kiss on the top of your head, “but... thanks for being here tonight. i was happy seeing you in the crowd, baby.”

it’s as if you were hit square in the face, knocking you unconscious cause that’s literally what you’re feeling right now. the boy has called you a bunch of names throughout the time you’ve known him but this specific one topped it all.

your eyes, your hands... even your heart doesn’t know how to respond to it. to the simple word, baby.

“ahh you like that word, do you?” he asks with his brows raised, voice so taunting and playful, “baby baby baby baby baby baby!”

“stoppp...” you dig your face into his chest, hoping to hide away how flushed your cheeks were from his teasing. it causes the boy to laugh out loudly, as if making you blush was the most hilarious thing.

“my baby.”

your poor heart swoons to how softly he says those very two words. usually, you would’ve found something like this cringe but not right now, not with how naturally he made it sound.

“ah ah testing testing,” a familiar voice interrupts you both over the speakers, only for you to realise it’s none other than taki with a microphone, “hi. can our captain please stop smooching his girlfriend and come join us for one sec? please. just one second and you can have him to yourself after!”

and now you wanted to not only hide but run away forever as well, run away from the entire crowd that’s currently staring at you. some with envy, some with laughter and some with pure jealousy. but lets be real, your boyfriend is the niki nishimura after all.

the niki nishimura you used to do anything to stay away from, the same one you literally labelled as your sworn enemy. yet here he was, the boy who you would now do anything to spend time with, the same one you were now lucky enough to call your boyfriend.

“i’m going to kill him. i’m going to kill all of them,” niki narrows his eyes at his waiting group of team mates on the field before looking back down at you, “i’ll be right back. wait for me yeah?”

“i’ll be here niki, always.”

the ends of his lips pull into yet another grin as he hears that one specific word, always. he kisses you again without hesitation, the two of you laughing as you hear his team mates pretending to gag not too far away. but you don’t mind it, not when everything just so perfect.

“always.”

end.

a/n; annnnd that's the end of my bad boy fic! omg it took like 4 decades but we're here 😭 definitely gonna miss my tsundere team captain so maybeee i'll start a new one for him sometime. thank you to everyone who supported my fic! i appreciate every comment, like, feedback, everything! so thank you for sticking with me til the very end 🤗💖💖💖

taglist; @jeonjungkookkk @soobsbby @astra-line @drunkanddazedalways @shine-your-light @02zprotector @byunhoebaek @artgukkx @nowrosesaredead @abdiitcryy @y4wnjunz @enhasengene @enhacolor @my5colors @kyutiepeachy @miixsh @vantxx95 @1115phile @outrologist @axartia @bunhoons @3nh4luvr @duckieanon @lix-freckle3 @uuwonnie @emoworu @kyoyangwon @sunshine-skz @paolennenicole @ahnneyong @hhganyu @duolingofanaccount @hseungi @omgjwon @jays-blue @jaykedpotato @gobighee @jiawji @taekbokki @wonwon-ie @mavlogist@thedemonundernikisbed @rosie-is-everywhere @kuleo26 @ii4enha-jwn @thejjrl @taytaymuse @cococake @sunooslover @muffinminnie @sashamifasolla @yoonjin96 @choibeomgogi @flower-lise @princesjy @she-is-dreaming @n-wjns @mimikittysblog @letapostropheesgo @f0rlov3rs @sweet-kisses-and-bloody-screams

2023 © jongseongsnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.

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shadowsingerofnight · 1 month

Text

So um, to be honest I don’t know what this is. It was on a whim, written in one go so don’t take it too seriously lol

It was inspired by this post right here, by @dawntoducks

Hope you enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of the door slamming shut brought Elain back to reality.

Standing in the middle of the sitting-room, she glanced to the window, to the city beyond. Velaris was in full bloom, children running and laughing just outside. She could even spot some kites flying this and that way, guided by tiny, giggling kids.

She had always thought kites to belong in fairytales, somehow never considered actually playing with one. She marvelled at them.

She kept watching- stalling, as one little girl accidentally bumped into the big magnolia tree outside the gate and let go of the slim thread she was holding. A cry sounded, the girl immediately getting up and jumping towards the sky. Desperately trying to reach high, high, higher- like the hurt didn’t matter, like she just wanted to get back what she had lost. But it was too late.

Elain blinked. Once. Twice.

Her heart began racing, the rhythm akin a horse’s gallop. Frantic, but with purpose.

It was always like that, her soul recognising a song she sometimes could faintly hear herself. A poem that had existed within her since the dawn of time, somehow.

“Are you okay?”

Somewhere among the blooming trees…

Elain had never heard a voice like that. Not when she was human, not after. Non since she had heard his for the first time. A voice so stark and yet warm. So deep and yet melodious.

She could feel it, tingling on her skin.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked, still not looking at him.

Outside, on a magic wind, the girl’s kite flew right back in her arms. Elain smiled faintly.

“I… felt something,” he replied. “Like you were calling for me.”

She was? Honestly, it wouldn’t have surprised her. Elain still didn’t quite understand how this whole thing worked. But could he actually feel when she was thinking about him?

It was quite a lot.

“That’s why I thought you were in danger.” He went on, “I assumed it was the only way you could call for help.” His tone was low, steady. Like he didn’t want to scare her away.

Because I know it wouldn’t be me you’d call if you could help it.

She hated that he didn’t understand. She hated that she could not bring herself to tell him the truth, how his smile was the first thing she saw in the morning. That his laugh sounded in her ears with every step she took. That his hands were what she imagined when she… Red stained her cheeks.

She hadn’t yet looked at him, but she could just see his head dip to the side as if wondering what she was thinking about. Or rather, was she really thinking about what he suspected?

At the top of the tallest mountain…

“Elain,” he whispered and then cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, okay?”

Elain furrowed her brows, but her chin remained dipped.

He sighed unevenly and then spat, voice higher, “I’m sorry the Cauldron made me your mate. I’m sorry I’m so abhorrent you can’t even look at me. Just tell me you’re fine and I’ll go.” His arms slackened at his sides. Defeated.

Elain’s head snapped towards him then. Her eyes met one of russet and one of gold, like the brightest of suns on a fall day. She saw the tears first, the same ones she could feel marking her own cheeks.

In the depths of all the seas…

“You-,” she sniffed. “You stupid, stupid prick.”

She saw his eyes widen the instant she closed the distance between them and pointed an accusatory finger to his chest.

“You know nothing!” She yelled. Actually yelled.

Elain wiped some of the tears away, but they kept coming like an overflowing river. Feelings buried so deep came afloat.

“Don’t you understand I can’t look at you?” She demanded more than asked.

“How can you not see I’m burning?” Her index finger kept poking his chest of its own volition while his face had paled alarmingly. He was looking down at her, tears glistening in the light.

On a journey so certain…

“You think I don’t feel anything”? Elain sniffed again. “Well, you’re so terribly wrong! I feel so much every time I look at you, I don’t know what to do.” Words were flowing and she didn’t even have to think them.

“You live with me every second of every day. You render me useless every time I think of you because all I want is to touch you and kiss you and hold you and never let go.”

He caught her wrist and flattened her hand above his heart. It was beating so fast.

“I want you, Lucien.” She could feel him tremble underneath her palm, just when he closed his eyes as to savour her words. “I just don’t want to burn you.”

Lucien smiled, so sweet and wicked at the same time, eyes so full of hope she cursed herself for not telling him sooner. “Didn’t you hear?” He whispered, his breath caressing her neck. “I’m the Lord of Flames.”

I search for light and I find you.

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #sarah j maas #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elucien #elucien fic

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loveinhawkins · 2 years

Text

Eddie flops down on the grass next to Steve, still a little breathless from playfighting with Dustin. He stretches his legs out, looking so carefree, that for a moment Steve almost forgets about the impending fight ahead of them.

Steve isn’t stupid—he knows that some of Eddie’s apparently relaxed demeanour will be a front, a way to let the kids have fun, even if it’s just for a little while; and he’s grateful for it, how Eddie can somehow make things light for them. Steve thinks he’s never quite got the hang of that.

“So, Mr Harrington—”

“God,” Steve scoffs, “am I at the principal’s or something?”

“—what are you up to on this fine eve?”

Eddie asks the question in a ridiculous drawl, as if him and Steve are just on vacation. Just killing time.

Steve gestures in the grass to the radio in between his legs. “Was messing around with this. The signal’s patchy.”

When he’d found the radio in the RV, he had planned on it being a backup to the Walkman, a last resort measure—but the volume is feeble, too temperamental to rely on. Every so often, he can pick up a fraction of a song before static takes over again.

A natural lull falls, not uncomfortable, and it’s during that silence when the radio picks up another song: catchy bubblegum pop that Steve vaguely recognises.

“Can you turn that up?” Eddie says suddenly. He’s sitting up straighter and there’s an odd look on his face that Steve can’t decipher.

“I can try.”

And, miraculously, it works: they get to listen to the whole song, and then static takes over again.

Eddie breathes out, a little shaky.

“You okay?”

Eddie nods. He rubs a hand down his face. “Y-yeah. I just…” He sighs again. “I—I forgot. Chrissy, she…” He clears his throat. “When I was driving her to—to my place, she put the radio on, and that—that song—” He chuckles slightly, quiet. Sad. “She was… joking around, saying she should’ve done her, um, cheer stuff to it. We were at a stop light and she—” He delivers the lyrics in a half muttered sing-song—You take me by the heart when you take me by the hand—and demonstrates some choreography, putting a hand over his chest before shaking his head. “I don’t know. It… it was funny. We were laughing. I forgot,” he repeats, voice small.

Steve can picture it suddenly: this unlikely pair carving out a moment of levity. It makes him think of him and Robin, warbling through Bonnie Tyler.

And then Eddie’s face goes chalk white. “Oh, fuck,” he breathes. “I never should’ve got out of the van. Should’ve kept the radio on. Oh, God. Would that have—” He swallows, looks at Steve, eyes wide. “Would that have been enough? To—to save her?”

Steve blows out a breath. “I don’t know,” he says honestly. “But, Eddie, you—you can’t live like that.”

Eddie laughs bitterly. “Yeah.”

“I’m serious.” Steve moves closer, voice low and sincere. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Eddie looks away.

“It wasn’t,” Steve insists.

Eddie turns back with a melancholy little smile. “There was… we were both in a talent show in middle school and… I was trying to be all, uh…” He pitches his voice up into a prepubescent quaver, “Ooh, I’m in a band, you know? Acting all tough or something. But I was actually just waiting in the wings, scared shitless.”

Steve smiles, but he doesn’t interrupt; he can tell Eddie needs this. To remember.

“So, this whole squad of cheerleaders just like killed it, right? And they come rushing off stage, and I’m up next, and my heart’s going like,” he pats a rapid rhythm on his chest, “and Chrissy, she—like, it was middle school, so stuff wasn’t really, uh, defined I guess, but she was already one of the popular girls, you know, and I was just this little weirdo in the corner, but she… She went to squeeze past me, and I think she could tell I was…”

“Scared shitless?” Steve prompts after a pause, and Eddie laughs.

“Yeah. More than that, I think.” He shrugs. “Lost, maybe. …Different? I don’t know, it was only a couple seconds, but you know when someone looks at you and you’re all: Oh, Christ, I think they see me. Does that make sense?”

Steve leans back, running his fingers through blades of grass. He thinks of Robin again. “Yeah. That makes sense.”

“Anyway. She stopped and smiled at me, and it wasn’t even a pity smile, I could tell she meant it, which seemed crazy at the time, and then she—it must’ve been gross, ‘cause I was sweating like hell, but she reached out, took my hand...” Eddie acts it out, clasping his own hands together. “And she said… Damn it, I can’t remember for sure, I—I wish I could ask—” He breaks off, swallows. “It was just good luck, or something like that, but at the time it meant…” He looks down and blinks a few times. “The world,” he finishes quietly.

“That’s… that’s really sweet,” Steve says, and he means I’m glad you had that. I’m glad you had each other.

“It was. She was—you know when people say, oh, she’s a sweet girl, but it’s because they can’t think of anything real to say? She—she was.” He covers his mouth with his hand. “Kind.”

Steve thinks for a long moment. Then he says, soft but firm, “You helped her too, you know.”

Eddie shoots him a disbelieving look.

“You did. She… God, Eddie, she must’ve been terrified, but she trusted you. She felt safe enough to joke around with you.”

Eddie is staring at him.

“She—she was dying,” Steve says carefully. “That night, it would’ve happened if you were there or not. But you—you were kind to her, Eddie. You kept her company, and…” And even though the radio has long since stopped playing, it’s as if the song is still, faintly, in the air. “You made her happy, even if it was just for a moment. And I know—everything after was fucking awful, it wasn’t fair, but that’s—that’s still worth something, man.”

Eddie inhales sharply, and then laughs, voice cracking. “Shit.” He passes a hand over his eyes, and he’s crying, almost silently, shoulders shaking.

Steve moves closer. The kids are still playing, and he discreetly shifts so his shoulder shields Eddie, gives him a moment of privacy.

Eddie keeps his face covered—but with his free hand, he reaches out. “Steve. Fuck. Thanks.” His words are choked.

Steve takes his hand. Squeezes once. It’s all anyone can do, he thinks. Give a hand to hold onto.

[on ao3]

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #steve x eddie #eddie and chrissy #pre steddie

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stevieharringtonwifeguy · 1 year

Note

Trans Femme-Stevie where she transitions after graduating, so when Eddie holds the broken bottle in her face in the boathouse, he doesn’t recognise her right away…

oh my god!!! thanks for the prompt- this is a great idea!!!!! behold:

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

Eddie isn't thinking when someone enters the boathouse he's hiding in. He isn't listening to what they're saying to each other, can't even hear over the pounding of his own heart and his shallow breaths that sound about twenty times louder than they actually are. And when something digs into his side, prodding at him under the tarp he's hid himself under, he definitely doesn't think as he leaps out of his hiding spot, pinning his attacker to the wall with a broken bottle to their throat.

Her throat. His attacker is a girl, apparently, with soft shoulder-length brown waves and pink lip gloss and big, scared-looking doe eyes. Great, he's on the run from people who will definitely think he murdered one sweet, defenceless girl (she was so sweet, and she didn't deserve to go like that), and the first thing he does is threaten another one.

He's still not thinking, really, when he vaguely registers someone else talking, a familiar voice- Henderson? The kid is saying something, something about trusting them, about how they're not here to hurt him- "I swear on my mother, Eddie."

The girl under his hands nods as best as she can with the bottle still pressed to her throat. "Yeah, swear on- swear on Dustin's mom," she says, voice strained and slightly familiar in a way Eddie doesn't have the brainspace to figure out right now.

Eddie looks to Dustin (and is that Band Buckley behind him? And his neighbour? He didn't even know they knew each other), his eyes wide and sincere. And he backs up from the girl. She immediately doubles over, clutching at her neck with a gasp of relief that has Eddie feeling even worse than he already did.

He sends an apologetic look to the girl as he curls back up into himself, mutters a sorry that has the girl waving him off. She shoots him a reassuring smile and a shrug like hey, been there. It would probably work better if she wasn't still rubbing her neck, and if Buckley wasn't patting her shoulder and sending Eddie a death glare over it.

"You're okay, Eddie, it's just me, it's Dustin- and you remember Max, right? Lucas's girlfriend? And that's Robin and Stevie, remember I told you about them? They're my babysitters. Well, Stevie is, Robin's just like, her... I don't know, helper?"

Buckley- Robin rolls her eyes at Dustin, which Eddie can sympathise with. Like, what the fuck, Henderson, he has literally never cared less about who is or isn't his babysitter. Eddie has no idea who Stevie even is, which is weird now that he thinks about it. She's got to be around Eddie's age, and there's only one high school in Hawkins, so he must have seen her at some point. And she is kind of familiar, but Eddie feels like he'd definitely remember seeing this girl around. She's really pretty, soft golden skin dotted with moles, and her shoulders had been firm with muscle when he'd felt them, like she did softball or something.

Actually. Eddie squinted at her a moment. Golden skin. Moles. Droopy, hazel eyes. Muscles. Stevie.

"Wait, Harrington???"

Stevie freezes up again, the same fear returning to her eyes that she'd had when he held a bottle to her throat. Robin glares at him even harder, Max joining in, and even Henderson seems a little defensive.

"Stevie, yeah," she says, voice cool. "Problem?"

Holy shit. "No! I mean- me too! But, uh, opposite."

Stevie's eyes light up, and everyone's jaws drop. "What, really? But- you've always been-"

Eddie nods. "Yeah, since middle school. Remember? I'd just moved to town and I had that buzzcut? My uncle was letting me, like, be a dude and I kind of overcompensated. Worst haircut of my life."

"Holy shit," Stevie whispers, voice full of awe. Eddie can relate.

They both sit for a moment, revelling in the mutual wonder of finally meeting someone even a little bit like them.

And then Dustin ruins it.

"So what happened with Chrissy, Eddie?"

Oh, yeah. He'd almost forgotten this was the worst day of his life.

#steddie #transfem steve harrington #t4t steddie #transmasc eddie munson #stranger things #my fics

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mediumgayitalian · 3 months

Text

previous chapter

———

“Take the exit here.”

“How come?” Nico asks, dutifully putting on his blinker and merging into the right lane. “We’re not even at half tank.”

Will clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “It’s, uh, not for gas.”

A pause.

“Oh, Solace, you’re fucking kidding me.”

“I’m sorry!”

Nico throws his hands up, ignoring Will’s screech of both hands on the wheel, I value my life! “There is no possible way you have to piss already. You had half a slushie!”

“...Well.”

“William Andrew Solace, I swear to God.”

“I got distracted!” Will cries, eyes big and round as he pouts. “The Abstract Iron Centaur is a monument, okay, I forgot what the point of the rest stop was for.”

Nico groans. “I’m not sure you should be allowed to go to medical school. You’re going to forget a scalpel in someone’s lungs, or something.”

Immediately, he knows this is the wrong thing to say. The sheepish grin vanishes off Will’s face, replaced with something despairing, before it’s hastily shoved back on.

The winding road finally gives way to the advertised rest stop, partially obscured by a Welcome to Georgia sign with a modernist-style image of a peach that annoys him for no reason. We’re glad Georgia’s on your mind. (False. Georgia is never on his mind, except for how Will can’t say Georgia without slipping into his accent and Nico has to take that golden opportunity to mock him. And then die.)

“Right,” Will says finally. He forces a laugh. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something else, then gets out of the car without so much as a word.

Nico watches him go.

“Well,” he mutters to himself. “Shit.”

He waits in the car as long as he physically can, which is anything between thirty seconds and four business days. A glance at his watch informs him it’s closer to two minutes.

He kicks a stone across the parking lot, debating the implications of searching for his friend. It hasn’t really been that long, so he’s not sure it’s socially appropriate, and then he wonders when the hell he started caring about being socially appropriate. They are friends, after all, because in a group icebreaker question about siblings in seventh grade, Nico had growled none, on the account that she was killed by a drunk driver when I was ten and Will had laughed, brightly and morbidly, and said hey, my brothers were murdered, too! Twinsies! and killed the vibe rather brilliantly for literally everybody else in the room.

He gives into his impulse eventually, striding onto the surprisingly soft grass and looking, halfheartedly, around the spacious grounds (he’d decided searching the bathroom would be a touch too far). His mission gets sidetracked, however, because the heat is less oppressive under the shade of tall, weeping willows, and there’s a small breeze, and he is struggling to shove his various musings into the Repression Box where they belong.

Will, starts one of said musings, has been acting weird as shit long before he showed up at his house in the middle of the night.

It had started around January? If he had to guess. But Will is always kind of weird in the winter, so he hadn’t thought much of it, just offered to break into his house more often so he didn’t feel too suffocated. The usual. But the strangeness had persisted through the spring – the sudden drops in mood, the hair-triggers to clam him up. Both of which are usually a Nico thing. Will, more often, just shoves all his negative emotions down to the bottom of his soul until he gets one half-mark wrong on a test and sobs himself sick about being useless while Nico stands guard outside the bathroom door, agonised, unsure how to help. And then the two of them never talk about it again.

Over the last few months, things have been a little less balanced.

“Hey.”

Nico jumps. Will stands slightly, shoulders still hunched slightly, but definitely less cagey than earlier. He holds out a cup of coffee Nico recognises as from a vending machine.

“Hi,” Nico says softly, smiling tentatively. He takes the coffee. It’s black, and too hot, just how he likes it.

“You are going to stain your teeth,” Will observes, as he always does.

“Bite me,” Nico responds, following the script.

A genuine smile pulls at his face.

“You ready to get back on the road?”

“Yep.”

They fall into step in their hike back to the Jeep – Nico hiked farther than he meant to. Will’s flip-flops slapping rhythmically against the packed dirt of the trail is a familiar sound, and it eases some of his own tension, putting a bit more prep in his step. When he glances quickly over, Will is breathing normally, shoulders slack, much calmer expression on his face.

“You should let me drive,” he says as they approach. “You’ve been behind the wheel since practically dawn; maybe you should take a nap or something.”

Nico shakes his head, waving a dismissive arm. Frowning slightly, Will acquiesces, climbing back into the passenger side.

“I’ve had two coffees and half a slushie,” he explains, resting his hand on the back of Will’s seat. He cranes his neck behind him, careful of the family walking an unleashed dog as he pulls out. “I’m good forever.”

“Caffeine doesn’t work on you,” Will points out.

Nico pauses.

“...True.”

He hadn’t realise Will had noticed, actually. Although he supposes it’s not too surprising – Will has known him a long time, Will is observant, and Will generally enjoys lecturing people about anything he can get away with, up to and including their general health and safety. Nico, in all his bad choices, is a favourite target of his. He can probably recite his solo midnight speed driving from memory.

“It’s just –” Will stops, waiting until Nico’s safely merged back on the highway before continuing. “It’s three and a half hours ‘till we get to Atlanta, Neeks, and it’s already three-thirty. We’ll have to stop again for food, probably, at one point, and we’ll have to stop for food, soon, and who knows what the traffic will be like –”

Carefully passing the person going sixty in front of him, finally breaking into open road, Nico takes half an eye off the road and digs through the centre console.

“– I mean, if it’s bumper to bumper, then what? It’ll be rush hour soon, shit, I shoulda planned for that, shit, do we have a jerrycan? We should have a jerrycan, remind me to get a jerrycan for the trunk –”

Finally catching sight of the CD he’s looking for (and barely managing to swerve and avoid a massive pothole that would have for sure cut their trip short, but he managed, so take that, Reckless Driving Lecture Will that lives in his brain, who’s God now), he hands it to Will. Still actively stressing about literally nothing, he opens it, polishing the disc on habit and sliding it into the slot without so much as pausing.

Nico smirks.

Yeah, maybe he knows his friend, too.

“– I mean, just blankets and a first aid kit is not enough. Really, we should have some provisions in there. Oh, and rope, ‘cause what if we get stranded in the mountains –”

The radio clicks as it reads the disc, then, suddenly and without warning, the stereo rumbles with heavy bass and pounding beat.

Will cuts himself off. “Hey, is this –”

Nico smirks wider. He chances another look away from the road, just in time to watch a magnificent smile break across Will’s face, wide and a little crooked, showing all his molars – a real one, the one he gets when he’s caught off-guard, the one that makes his hands fluttery.

“You’re playing In The Zone!” he exclaims, laughing delightedly. “Without complaining!”

Bingo, Nico thinks.

“Technically, I didn’t play shit.” He gestures at the empty CD case in Will’s hand. “You’re just like a hermit crab. I hand you things, you hold them.”

“Shut up.” But there’s no bite to the command, smile still stretching wide. If Nico looks, he can see the tiny snag of his barely crooked front tooth, but he doesn’t look, because he doesn’t care about that, obviously. He has his eyes on the road and both hands on the wheel, fully focused.

Obviously.

They do get into disgusting traffic. Will is distressed about it, up until someone cuts them off so closely they both nearly actually and genuinely die, and he is immediately lit up in a rage so incandescent Nico wonders if he will ever be able to look away from straining biceps and a clenched jaw ever again. More distantly, he wonders if and I hope you get three consecutive aneurysms and your family leaves you to fucking rot in a hospital bed, you leprous shitdick will be on loop in his head for the rest of time. He kind of wants to put it on a shirt. Will’s linguistic talents should be studied.

“Stop thinking about it,” Will demands, socking him (hard! What the shit!) in the shoulder. His face resembles, quite exactly, the shade of the setting sun. “Purge it from your memory.”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Nico responds, smirking.

“I wasn’t –” A pause. Nico bites back a snort. “Cutting people off is just so rude.”

“Oh, of course.”

“I mean! I mean.”

“Indeed.”

“If it was – an ambulance, or something, I would understand, but he cut us off just to get immediately stuck in the same traffic! I don’t understand the point!”

“Truly the behaviour of a leprous shitdick,” Nico agrees. His grin starts to genuinely hurt his face, but he ignores it in favour of snickering.

Will sinks into his seat, pulling his hoodie over his eyes. His ears, as usual, stick out a little, and they’re red, too. Nico nobly resists the urge to flick them.

“I hate you.”

“I think you’re quite attached to me, actually. After all, I’m not a –”

“If I hear the word leprous come from your mouth one more fucking time, di Angelo, I’ll give you leprosy. For real. I’ll find it.”

Will probably could find a vial of pure leprosy somewhere, actually, so Nico shuts up. (He’s seen Will’s weird vial collection. Most of it is just, like, various bacteria, he’s pretty sure, but Will is kind of morbid and Nico knows his sense of humour is garbage because Nico’s sense of humour is garbage, and there is a reason they’re friends, and if Nico found a vial of leprosy somewhere he would keep it, too. Can leprosy be vialed? Who knows. Will, probably.)

Once he’s sure Nico is not going to tease him anymore about his temper tantrum, or at least for the moment, he turns back to his book. Every so often, he looks up, observes the three miles per hour they’re crawling, and sighs, loudly and lengthy to himself, muttering something about railway systems and zoning laws and government incompetence. Nico doesn’t ask. He was free from the jail that was history and geography lessons last month. He is determined to learn absolutely nothing for the next six months, at least.

“I’m paying for the motel or hotel or inn et cetera,” Will says, randomly.

“No,” Nico replies, easily.

Will reaches out, calmly, and pinches him on the thigh. Nico does not yelp indignantly because he is a Man, and can handle Will’s weirdly pointy fingers.

“You paid for gas.”

“Yep.”

“And you have car payments.”

“Mhm.”

“And you bought Dunkin’s.”

“True.”

“Nico,” Will says exasperatedly, “this whole damn trip was my idea. Let me pay for shit.”

“I enjoy wasting my father’s money,” Nico counters, and Will pauses, considering. “Come on, commie. I know the idea of spending a banker’s money on stupid shit pleases you.”

He knows he’s starting to win, because Will sighs in a very particular way that Nico has identified as why am I letting this dumbass get away with this again, says, “Spending money is capitalist, Nico,” and turns, begrudgingly, back to his book.

Poorly hidden behind the pages, he’s smiling.

Nico tallies his victory.

The traffic finally eases by around eight o’clock. Victorious, surely, except that they’re still quite a ways from Atlanta. He considers getting off at one of the various exits promising shelter, and in fact decides he is going to, but for some reason, his hand never drifts to his blinker. Never turns the wheel slightly to merge, never eases off the gas. He keeps going, an going, and going, music playing softly, stars beginning to shine through the darkening sky.

Beside him, Will lets out tiny puffs as he exhales, even and sluggish.

“You are a grandmother,” he whispers fondly, shaking his head. In the quiet of the road, interrupted only by the whipping whipping winds – he should have pulled the roof back up when they were stuck, shit – and odd flash of headlights of a passing car, he lets himself soften, sighing back against his seat and easing up slightly on the gas.

Will glows, faintly, in the moonlight.

It’s funny, ‘cause he’s a sun child. Nico has teased him about it for years, in fact; his hair, his bright blue eyes, his stubborn clinging to his aesthetic of wannabe surfer boy. The gold ring he wears on his thumb, the sun pendant that rests on his heart. Swathed in yellows and blues and golds, all the time, with a sprinkling of bright green and neon orange just to remind everyone that yes, he is red green colourblind, and no, that will not stop him from making fashion choices.

But the silver suits him. It softens him, instead of washing him out, reminding Nico that the sun shines white. The low light casts gentle shadows on his face, too, drawing attention to his strong brow and straight nose.

Forcing his eyes back on the road, where they should have been the whole time, Jesus, he notices the giant green Downtown Atlanta sign, and follows its arrows. The first exit he sees, he turns, getting lost three times before he finds the hotel that was advertised.

Pulling into the largely empty parking lot, he shuts off the car, then turns to Will, screwing up his face. He has to wake him up, at some point. Obviously. Unfortunately he cannot simply melt into the shadows and reappear in a hotel room. As awesome as that would be, with his luck, he’d pop into an occupied one, and that’d be a whole host of problems.

Deciding he’ll actually get them a room first, he heads inside, speaking quietly with the desk host.

“Single or double?” they ask pleasantly, voice similarly lowered for the hour.

“Uh,” Nico says, “double?”

The host pauses, eyebrows flicking up at his hesitation. “...Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Nico flushes. He adds, belatedly, “Please.”

Eyebrow raised in amusement, the host reaches into a drawer and pulls out two sleek key cards, tucking them into a little envelope thing and handing them over. “Room 409,” they say, nodding towards the elevator.

“Thanks,” Nico responds, and walks out the door. He realises, as he exits, how much of a general failure he is at communicating with people who are not Will, and considers climbing through the window of his sixth floor room out of sheer embarrassment. The realization that he does not have the skill to drag Will up there with him is the only thing that stops him.

“Sunshine,” he murmurs, once he’s gathered their bags and some of the red has faded from his face, “we’re here.”

Will hums a little, voice gravelly. Nico’s lip quirk up.

“Where?”

“Somewhere to sleep.”

“‘M sleepin’ jus’ fine.”

His accent is so, so heavy with sleep, and it’s just – God, he wishes Wil hadn’t trained himself out of it. In Nico’s professional opinion, Will should talk like that all the time.

Authenticity, and all that.

“C’mon, Will.”

After another minute of coaxing – which Nico indulges purely because he knows for a fact Solace will have no memory of it in the morning, in any other circumstance he’d poke him awake – Will uncurls enough to stagger to his feet, stumbling as he gets out of the vehicle. For his own safety, Nico wraps an arm around his narrow hips, guiding him up to the room.

“Mnhgh,” he mumbles, the second the heavy door closes behind them. He walks two steps to the nearest bed, face plants in the middle of it, and starts snoring, feet hanging off the end, one flip-flip still stubbornly clinging to his foot.

“Dork,” Nico murmurs. He gets ready like a normal person, tugging on a sleep shirt – might be an old one of Will’s, actually, because Nico certainly never bought a Shania Twain concert t-shirt – and wrapping up in the wonderfully plush blankets. “Goodnight, Will.”

He gets a snore in response. He burrows deeper into the covers, smiling, drifting off to the sound of his best friend’s rhythmic breathing.

———

next chapter

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pretending-ican-write · 3 months

Text

Cowboy Up - Pt.1 - Ryan x Dutton!reader

Um so I watched all of Yellowstone last week and as a result, my multi-year writer's block was broken by a need to see more of Ryan because I am obsessed with Ian Bohen. Idk how many parts this will have or how often it will get updated as I'm in the last few months of uni but I hope y'all enjoy!

Pairing: Ryan (Yellowstone) x Dutton!Reader (Kayce's twin sister)

WC: 1053

Next part

Disclaimer: Beyond watching Yellowstone I have zero/little knowledge of Western riding and the ranching lifestyle but I do know horses so that has certainly influenced this! I'm also English so writing dialogue correctly for them is not my strong point! If you find any issues please let me know!

---

The sun was just beginning to dip below the mountains and the cold was starting to set in when she joined him on the fence. Neither of them spoke for a while, just looking out at the vastness in front of them, all that was theirs but came with so many conditions.

Eventually she broke the silence, “so you told him? How’d he take that one?”

Wordlessly he opened his shirt where the ‘Y’ was just starting to scab over, still red and angry.

“Motherfucker,” she swore, “this ain’t fair Kayce. He doesn’t just get to do this.”

He shook his head, “dad does whatever he wants and there ain’t no consequences for him. That’s why I gotta do this.”

“Shit man. What’s Monica gonna do? Besides worrying about you getting your ass shot in the desert miles from civilisation?”

Kayce chuckled, “beats getting my ass shot in the middle of Montana miles from civilisation. She’ll be okay, her family will help and she’ll be a teacher. Just like she planned. It’s you I’m worried about here with dad and no one else to speak sense to. ‘Cept Lee”

“Well I’m leaving, dad be damned. I’m not gonna be a pawn in his power trip. Gonna go see this godforsaken country and win it all so that when I come back he can’t question whether it’s where I wanna be,” she declared.

Her brother rolled his eyes, “you ain’t talking about the same him now.”

“I don’t know what your talking about,” she denied, staring out at the darkened mountains.

Kayce shoved her shoulder, “you can’t bullshit to me y/n. That’s the one problem with being twins, ain’t no way to lie to me.”

“I’m just a kid to him, he ain’t ever gonna see me any other way if I stay here,” she admitted, “hell if I stay here no one will ever see me as anything more than his kid. ‘S why we both gotta do this Kayce.”

He nodded, “no way to stand in the sun in this state, always gonna be a shadow.”

“When I come back I’ll be able to stand in sunlight so bright I’ll have a fucking halo.”

-/-/-

2 years later…

Montana has its charms all year round, but fall has a particular appeal. The leaves had started to turn, there was a chill in the air that only seemed to get stronger and there was still a frost on the grass that the sun hadn’t hit.

With the sun keeping the cold from their bones, the Yellowstone ranch hands were occupying themselves keeping their roping skills fresh. Rip observed from the sidelines as the new hand struggled to keep up with Ryan who turned to lecture the kid about keeping his eye on the steer.

Lloyd rolled his eyes when he missed the horns again, “you gotta try harder than that if you wanna be a wrangler!”

“He keeps pulling the damn steer too early,” the hand argued back.

Ryan glared at him, “don’t fuckin’ blame me for your bad skills.”

Before they could descend into an all out brawl, the group were distracted by the sound and sight of truck coming down the road. They watched it pull up in front of the barn, trailer in tow. A rare silence occupied them as they watched a young woman step out, adjust her hat then stare out across the ranch in front of her.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Lloyd muttered, “she’s back. You fuckin’ know about this?”

Rip said nothing, but his face gave the answer. The other hands who recognised her muttered between themselves about what she was doing back after so long.

The new hand leaned over towards Ryan, “who the fuck is that and why does everybody care?”

“That is y/n Dutton,” he answered without taking his eyes off of her.

“I didn’t know John had another daughter,” he responded.

Ryan shook his head, “hell kid you gotta lot to learn about this place.”

“She’s fuckin’ hot mind,” the hand murmered.

The older hand spat out his words, “you keep words like that off your tongue if you want to keep it.”

Lee stepped out of the barn and stepped around the truck to greet her, “the prodigal daughter returns.”

“I don’t see Beth anywhere,” she laughed bitterly, “but it’s good to see you Lee.”

He hugged her, “I’m glad you’re back. Been a long time coming.”

“I came back for me, not for him remember that,” she turned towards the corral, “think I’ve given them enough of a show to explain it so they can pick their jaws up off the floor?”

He gestured for her to follow him towards where the ranch hands were all still quietly watching. She strode over to the group, smiling at Rip who nodded back at her.

“Where’s that mare of yours?” He asked.

Y/n shrugged, “a champion barrel horse would be wasted on this ranch. Sold her for more money than I’m ever gonna earn in the rest of my lifetime.”

“You ain’t rodeoing anymore?” Lloyd questioned.

“I did what I set out to do when I went on the circuit. Saw this godforsaken country and won it all. It’d get boring to win it over again,” she moved her gaze towards where Ryan was watching her, “ain’t no one gonna question where I wanna be now.”

Rip nodded, “afraid we ain’t got a horse to spare for you y/n.”

“I got that covered Rip. Got one coming up tomorrow from a ranch in Wyoming. Some fuckin’ old school boys who don’t know how to be nice to a horse they didn’t ruin,” she explained, “man’s wife broke it and now she’s dead ain’t no one gonna ride him gentle. Figured he might stand a chance with me.”

Lloyd chuckled, “always were a soft hand. Figured that’s how you won it all.”

“Guess that question that remains is, do you have a place for me? Not in the house but here,” she clarified.

Lee looked at Rip then back at his sister, “I reckon so. You gonna stay in the bunkhouse?”

“Oh fuck no,” y/n laughed, “I didn’t drag that thing all the way from Texas to sleep with these fuckheads. It’s looked after me in worse places. Think it’ll do just fine here.”

#ryan yellowstone #ryan yellowstone x reader #yellowstone #yellowstone tv #yellowstone imagine #dutton ranch #dutton!reader #ian bohen

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caesarhamato22 · 1 year

Note

Hey, love. Donkey Kong simp here! I love him unironically, and I would like to request headcanons and/or a fic based on reader being a Queen from another kingdom and how their relationship would be.

Things I'd like if you included:

Courting

Telling his family

kids? if they ever have any?

Basically fluffy shit and a little spice!

Please and thank you! Happy writing!

Hello!!

I, too, love him unironically, and it would be a pleasure to write this request for you, @autistic-solar-fandom <3

His Queen

Donkey Kong X Queen!Reader

Oh. my. god. This one is so long.

Summary: Donkey Kong meets you, a Queen from another kingdom, and is head over heels for her royal highness.

Warnings: Language. NSFW at the end.

Meeting

• Mario, Luigi, Peach, Toad and DK were exploring other parts of their world with their karts, mainly since Mario and Luigi were still pretty new to the place.

• And with Bowser being gone?

• Literally the perfect time to go for a little wander.

• DK originally wasn't going to go, but he couldn't resist annoying Mario. He would playfully criticise the way Mario would try to flirt with Peach, and Toad would immediately interrupt by saying Mario was doing a great job.

• Luigi would try to hide his laughter while Mario looked at him, unimpressed.

• While all this was happening, Peach just lightly blushed.

• She couldn't lie.

• She liked the short, red plumber.

• The group came up to a kingdom that Peach knew well. It was your kingdom!

• It was an elegant sight. Citizens of all different species were greeting everyone they saw. Some danced, some sang, it was clear that everyone loved their home.

• And in the middle of all the houses and people, stood a grand castle. It was decorated with your favourite colours and ornaments.

• While being heavily fortified, it was a welcoming sight.

• The group tried to take everything in, but there was just too much to see.

• Peach led them towards the castle down the same path she had taken multiple times before.

• Once at the castle doors, the guards stood strong, about as tall as Donkey Kong was on his knuckles.

• They recognised Princess Peach and bowed respectfully before letting the group through the doors.

• The interior was even more magnificent than the exterior. There were stained glass windows of you and the rulers before you.

• Peach pointed at the one of you, "that's Queen (Y/N), the current ruler of (Kingdom Name)."

• The one thing the group noticed about your window was you were by yourself, while the other windows had the previous royal couples on them.

• The couples stood side by side while you stood proudly with your signature weapon in hand.

• Before they knew it, the group had reached the throne room. Your throne was decorated accordingly to match the rest of your home.

• In the centre of the room was a circular display of all the kingdoms. You looked over it, your back facing the group. When you heard footsteps, you turned and smiled brightly at the sight of your friend.

• You and Peach reunited with a hug while everyone else took in your appearance.

• Whether you were wearing a dress, or a suit (or both!), you looked powerful with your weapon in it's designated place on your person.

• Mario, Luigi and Toad watched you with admiration, ready to show their respect with a bow.

• But Donkey Kong?

• He couldn't move.

• His eyes were wide and his body was still. He could barely focus on his breathing.

• And the worst part was... Mario noticed this.

• "Looking a little bit stiff there, pal."

• "Mario. Shut the fuck up."

• Peach introduced you to her friends and they loved you. You were so welcoming and kind, almost the same as Princess Peach. However, they did notice you were a little more reserved and serious.

• You gave them a quick tour of the castle and pointed out sections of the kingdom.

• Everyone admired each thing that you pointed out.

• Meanwhile, DK was admiring you.

• While the others took in the scenery, his eyes kept focusing back on you.

• And he didn't notice that you were doing the same.

• When you noticed his eyes were on you, you stuttered before looking away.

• You tried to hide it, and you did pretty well.

• If it wasn't for Peach seeing right through you.

• You would glance at DK when he wasn't looking.

• On occasion, you would take a quick look at his arms.

• That was a mistake.

• Now you couldn't think straight.

• After the tour, the group went their own way to explore further, and they eventually went home.

• Before they left, they thanked you for a wonderful time and you smiled warmly.

• DK thanked you personally while the others were heading towards their karts.

• He held your hand and gently touched his forehead to the top of it.

• "I was nice meeting you."

• DK never really had a way with words when it came to formalities. Sure, he was pretty good at playfully flirting, everybody knew that.

• But he couldn't really speak to a Queen the same way he yelled out to his fans.

• Yet, you still blushed at his simple statement.

• "It was lovely meeting you too."

• Your voice was like silk to him. He practically melted right there.

• And he knew he would be back.

• And you did too.

Meeting Again

• DK pretty much memorised the way to your kingdom by taking mental notes on his way back home.

• He couldn't stop thinking about you. And your kingdom, to be honest.

• There was something so comforting about it, and about you.

• So, a few days after his first visit with his friends, he chose to go back by himself.

• The second time travelling to your kingdom didn't seem nearly as long as the previous time.

• Once he reached the doors, the guards stopped him.

• Without Princess Peach there, he didn't have authority to just waltz on into the castle.

• After he asked (very nicely, in fact), they walked him to the throne room, which was where you were, sitting in your grand chair.

• He smiled and his eyes beamed.

• Why was he so excited? So eager to see you? Why had the thought of you stayed in his mind for days?

• You saw him, your eyes widened. It seemed you were having the same dilemma.

• It was him! The person you couldn't keep your eyes off during he and his friends visit!

• But why was he here? Was there urgent news? Had Bowser escaped from his tiny prison?

• "Donkey Kong? What are you doing here?" You truly wanted to know.

• His name... you said his name! You remembered his name!

• "Well, I uh... I'm here because..."

• He was frozen. He was fumbling over his words. How was he fumbling over his words?!

• You saw his discomfort and asked the guards to leave.

• That seemed to relax DK. Was he nervous? You guessed that might be it.

• He exhaled once he noticed it was just you two.

• "I actually don't know."

• Well, then.

• "I guess I... you seemed cool so I wanted to see you again."

• Sure.

• He travelled alllllll this way because he thought you were "cool".

• Yet, you took it as a compliment. You weren't going to judge him for his reasoning. You were just happy to see him, if you were honest.

• "I'm glad I made a good first impression." You laughed.

• He scratched his neck with a anxious smile.

• "Care to take a walk?" You suggested getting out of the castle, or at least out of the throne room, thinking it would put him at ease.

• He immediately accepted your invitation.

• As you walked, he told you about his kingdom while you told him about yours.

• You explained your duties while he explained his fathers.

• Although you were around same age, how were you a Queen while he was a Prince?

• How long had you been Queen? How long had he been the champion of the Jungle Kingdom arena?

• What was it like being adored by your subjects, while he was adored by fans?

• Countless questions, so many answers, non-stop talking.

• Your conversation had started out a little awkward, but you two quickly became comfortable in each others company.

• The biggest thing DK took note of was how quickly your speech and body language changed. You seemed much more relaxed after leaving the castle and embracing the nature around you. You spoke so fluently, so elegantly, so passionately.

• DK could listen for hours.

• And for hours, he did.

• Time flew and before you knew it, a couple hours had gone by.

• He knew he had to go, and you knew too.

• Before parting, he presented the same gesture he gave you the first time you met: his forehead to the top of your hand.

• Except this time, he added a small kiss on your hand.

• Heat rushed to your face.

• And he was gone.

• These surprise visits continued. Each time, it was in your kingdom. DK had insisted.

• Then there were letters.

• Then there were gifts.

• And eventually, during a day where you spent the visit in your room, you sat on your bed, reading a book, while he laid on your floor, staring at the ceiling.

• "I think I like you."

• What the fuck.

• No warning. Just like that.

• You looked down at him, his eyes still observing the ceiling.

• He didn't feel the need to hide it anymore. His heart had been beating so fast it had started to hurt. He had to tell you.

• You ever so slightly smiled when he glanced at you, unsure of your reaction.

• "I think I like you too."

Dating

• In the early stages of your relationship, all your dates were in your kingdom, or somewhere near by.

• Picnics, kart rides, relaxing in your room, and anything that gave you alone time were the main types of dates you had with DK.

• Kart rides were one of his top favourites.

• They were either you two using your own karts, or you shared his.

• When you're using your own karts, it's always a race.

• There's no worries, no responsibilities, just peace.

• When you're sharing his kart, it's always a simple drive with your head on his arm/shoulder.

• Sometimes you like to stand up and hold his kart for balance. You're surprisingly good at stabilising yourself, even at such quick speeds.

• The first time you did this, DK almost had a full panic attack and practically begged you to come down. You promised him you'd be fine, and you were.

• But that didn't stop his secret worrying.

• He knew you were capable. He just cares a lot <3

• After the first couple months of you officially dating, you asked if you could visit his home.

• But DK was hesitant.

• Not because he was ashamed, no, not at all! In fact, he was excited to show you off, whenever that would be.

• It was mostly because he didn't know how his father would react.

• A kong and a human?

• It was rather an odd combination, you had to admit.

• But you assured him if his dad didn't approve of you, you would leave immediately. No hard feelings, whatsoever.

• It took a little convincing, but he eventually agreed.

• He first wanted to tell his friends, mostly Peach.

• They had noticed he went on "trips" more often after he had met you.

• Peach was the one who guessed that he was visiting you, so she wasn't all that surprised when he confided in her.

• She was surprised, however, when he told her you two were a couple.

• DK didn't know what reaction he would get from her, but he definitely didn't think it would be squealing.

• Thank GOD no one was around to hear.

• Specifically Mario.

• DK actually kept Peach updated on how your relationship was going.

• She gave him advice on what you liked to do <3

• On your first date in the Jungle Kingdom, DK obviously had to give you a tour.

• At first, he didn't show any signs of PDA, so you didn't initiate any.

• Until he eventually went "fuck it" and put his arm around your shoulder to give you a kiss on your cheek.

• He introduced you to Diddy Kong and his dad, Cranky Kong {more details in the next section} and once you became familiar with them, Donkey Kong's nerves vanished.

• Afterwards, it seemed silly to him on how anxious he was.

• You told him you understood how he felt and gave him a light peck.

• Holy. Shit.

• He's so glad he brought you to his home.

• Now you can hang out here too??

• Any of your dates in the Jungle Kingdom consisted of more kart racing, and even exploring the massive garage where all the karts are built.

• DK actually helped you build your very own kart to keep in his kingdom :)

• He made sure the guards in his home knew of your importance.

• Importance being your status of "Queen" and status of "Donkey Kong's Girlfriend".

• He made sure you were treated as well as how you were treated at home.

• Once everyone he wanted to tell knew about you, he had no shame with giving you love in every possible place.

• In your kingdom, the amount of PDA he gave you was up to you.

• But in his kingdom?

• He wanted EVERYONE to know.

Meeting His Father

• Cranky Kong wasn't a fan in the beginning.

• A human with a kong?

• And with you being a Queen, no less. There wouldn't be any time for you two to hang out anyways, would there?

• Until DK told him you had actually been dating two months prior to telling him.

• Cranky Kong was both baffled and disappointed.

• The father and son actually got into an argument about you.

• Neither of them knew you were standing in the doorway, eavesdropping.

• You walked up to them, mid-argument.

• They both quietened and watched you.

• DK looked at you worriedly. He didn't want you to be yelled at or insulted by his grumpy dad.

• Cranky kept his angry expression.

• "Sir. I don't want to be the reason your family falls apart."

• Cranky's gaze softened.

• "It was a pleasure meeting you. And it was such a joy meeting your son."

• The way you spoke so formally yet with such emotion.

• "Thank you for opening your kingdom to me for this time." You curtsied/bowed and squeezed DK's hand before turning to leave.

• Cranky's hardened expression dropped.

• You were so respectful, so understanding, so calm.

• So... not like Donkey Kong.

• DK froze as you left. You seem to have that effect on him.

• He turned to his dad. So much hurt, written so clear on his face.

• Cranky looked at him, then to your disappearing form, then back to his son.

• "Go get her."

• DK raced to bring you back to the room.

• Just from that small, stressful interaction, Cranky Kong was impressed.

• You impressed the King.

• ...And now you're besties <333

Kids?

• It was never really DK's goal to have kids.

• He never really thought about it.

• In a way, he already had a kid. Diddy Kong was a menace.

• (Speaking of, Diddy immediately liked you)!

• But if you ever did become pregnant, DK would tell you the decision was ultimately yours.

• If you kept the child, he would be the BEST dad.

• He would want his kid to have fun every second of the day.

• He would constantly fall asleep with the child on his chest and snore very, very loudly. Yet, the kid would stay asleep.

• Expect two sets of eyes staring at you in the morning.

• If you didn't keep the child, DK would love you just the same.

• All he needed was you.

• You being happy and healthy is all he could wish for.

• You would spend the rest of your days with just him.

• Going on adventures, ruling over the two kingdoms, side by side.

Marriage

• You chose where the wedding was.

• DK's kingdom? It was during the day.

• The wedding was huge.

• It was more of a party.

• Mario, Luigi, Toad, Peach, everyone you invited had come.

• His fans went absolutely crazy.

• The first time they found out he had a girlfriend, the entire kingdom wanted to know more about you.

• When they found out you were a Queen from another kingdom, they wanted to know even more about you.

• In a nice way.

• Where was your kingdom? What did it look like?

• Although you were a Queen, you acted no different to how you were without the crown.

• You were so kind, so soft, and your presence was silencing everywhere you went.

• In a good way :)

• Although you weren't considered weak, you were still smaller than the Kongs, so it seemed everyone was careful around you.

• The citizens loved you, the guards protected you, and DK assured you they would've acted the exact same way even if you weren't royalty.

• Now, if the wedding took place in your kingdom, the ceremony would go a little differently.

• It was peaceful, less rowdy, and during the early night.

• Your entire kingdom came to celebrate.

• After making your marriage official, you and DK strolled through the friendly crowds.

• People let you two walk pass and you greeted anyone who wanted to congratulate your marriage.

• It was a different experience for DK.

• Although this was a huge change in your life, and for your kingdom, no one swarmed you.

• It removed any anxiety he had felt and he enjoyed he whole night, just looking at you.

• Doesn't matter where the wedding was, his eyes were only on you.

• He was so proud.

• "Yep. That's my wife."

• He told everyone he met.

• You looked like a goddess. He genuinely thought he was dreaming at times.

• How in the world did this gorilla get so lucky?

SFW Oneshot

The sun was just about to set while you and Donkey Kong were on a drive. This was one of the times where he drove while you relaxed in his lap.

You felt so content with the wind in your face and DK's hand resting on your hip.

Your eyes had been closed for a while with a small smile on your face. You felt the temperature drop just slightly and you blinked and noticed the sun was almost halfway down.

You chose to stand on DK's kart, just next to where he sat, like you always did.

Taking in a deep breathe while holding on tightly so you wouldn't fall, you admired the view as DK kept the kart steady. A small bump in the road approached you and DK casually wrapped his arm around your leg and held your thigh to give you extra balance.

You looked down and smiled at him. He cared about you so much and he showed it through these small gestures. It was his instinct to protect you at any given moment, even if he didn't notice what he was doing.

With one hand, you ran it through his hair, as a thanks. He leaned into your touch and relaxed his head on the side of your thigh that he was holding on to.

These were definitely one of your favourite moments with your dearly beloved.

NSFW

• It was hard at first (no pun intended) to have any private time.

• You had a lot of responsibilities in your kingdom and sometimes you were too tired after a full day of royal duties.

• If it was in your kingdom, it was in your room.

• You had to be quiet a lot of the time because of the staff who worked in the castle.

• But!

• You had a trick up your sleeve.

• You had a much smaller cottage hidden in the forest near the village. It was a place you often went to take a break from being Queen.

• It also turned into a common place for you a DK ;)

• His favourite thing was when you let your royal persona drop.

• When you weren't being serious, you allowed yourself to have all the fun you wanted.

• DK was a huge fan of using his hands.

• I mean... have you seen them?

• Edging you with his fingers before switching to his tongue was a common trick he used on you.

• You thought he'd become predictable.

• No.

• Somehow, it always took you by surprise.

• You loved riding him while his hands caressed your body.

• He loved when you took control, and you loved when he took control.

• Sharing is caring <3

• A more intimate position you two loved was you sitting in his lap, facing him.

• Sure, under the covers he may have been fucking you to the point your legs would shake, but your bodies were so close, so connected.

• Whether you maintained eye contact, made out passionately, or he was giving you hickeys all over your neck, you were so in love with him.

• Every time you two would have alone time, it was always fun.

• Never serious.

• And never boring.

Hello again! I apologise if this was a bit too long, but I didn't want to leave anything out :)

I hope you liked it @autistic-solar-fandom !

I'm currently writing a longer NSFW oneshot which will be posted in the next couple days. See you then!

#super mario bros #donkey kong #donkey kong x reader #x reader #headcanons

280 notes · View notes

maelialuv · 2 years

Note

Can you do a one shot of Steve x fem! reader are shopping in a supermarket late at night and they’re arguing about what cookies to get and it’s just fluffff

Thank youuu xx

absolutely obsessed w this idea!! I LOVE Steve fluff. hope u enjoy! ty for the request!!

Supermarket Sweep - Steve Harrington

Summary: a late night shopping trip with Steve leads to late night confessions.

Warnings: a bit of angst! mostly fluff! slightly suggestive moments.

Word Count: 2.3K

Had you known that spending more time with a gang of pre-teens would take up so much of your free time, you would have stopped being an honorary baby sitter long before they began requesting food supply runs late into the night.

If you'd known that you'd spend your Friday evening inside Bradley's Big Buy with Steve Harrington, you most certainly would have reconsidered your choice of clothing. Untamed hair, a raggedy pair of beat up sneakers and a much too small tank top - essentially a pyjama shirt- for the blaring cool of the stores air conditioning, you stood motionless next to Steve. He was talking to you, had been for several minutes. It was white noise to your ears.

"...and Max wanted Chips Ahoy, but Dustin says they're too hard on his teeth and Will doesn't like the way they break apart when he-" Steve caught on to your blank stare. You had been looking at a pack of Oreos on the shelf for a long, glassy eyed moment. "Are you listening to me?"

You snapped out of your trance. "What? Sorry, Mike said he wanted some Oreos but I can't remember which ones."

"Oh, double stuffed." Steve said, completely sure. He knew his little nuggets like the back of his hand by now. Mike liked double stuffed Oreos, Max liked Chips Ahoy. Will preferred Milanos, Dustin underlined his Nilla Wafers four times on the list, and Lucas's usual ask of original Goldfish Crackers was so easy to remember it was impossible to get wrong. El was happy with anything.

You grabbed the double stuffed cookies and tossed them into the cart, almost over flowing with the cans of Pringles and the sodas the kids had asked for - the campaign Will and Mike had planned was extravagant, and called for a years worth of junk to keep them going.

How the kids could sit in the Wheeler's basement for hours on end in the peak of Hawkins summer was beyond you. You'd spent just about half of your time at the local pool, and by the evening when it had closed you'd migrated to the heated pool in the back yard of the Harrington residence, swimming and lounging until the sun set and Steve drove you home. The last few weeks, however, you had started hanging out with Steve alone.

It had been Robin that had introduced you to the boy, but you had known Steve 'The Hair' Harrington for years. He was one year above you in school, and how could anyone not know King Steve? You'd witnessed the rise and fall of his relationship with Nancy, and seen him mellow and relax as his focus switched from the basketball team to a team of middle schoolers. Robin had introduced you officially when they started working together at Scoops last summer. Steve recognised you from somewhere - "Did you and I fool around at Stacy's party in the fall?"- and you never confirmed it for him.

It didn't matter too much to him where he knew you from. Now you were his friend, and that was great. Friends.

The last two weeks, you and Steve had seen each other every day. Driving the kids around when the sun was up, chilling by his pool or watching movies in his living room when it was down. You'd been feeling...different. You'd seen Steve without a shirt before - victories of the Hawkins High Tigers being expressed with the swinging of a vest into a crowd of fawning girls. A year ago you would have rolled your eyes at yourself. More often than not over the last few days you had been the one gawking. The way droplets of water lingering on his toned stomach would light up with the reflection of the pool lights. The way he would smooth his hair back. You felt ridiculous, like a school girl writing all over her note book with glitter hearts.

It was like a switch had flicked for you, and suddenly it wasn't Steve, it was Steve. You'd repress it , and try your best to hide it. And then he'd pull a typical Steve stunt.

He tossed his sweatshirt at you, breaking you from another self indulgent trance filled with ice cold lemonade and hot summer nights. "Here," he said, lilt in his voice and smirk on his face, "you look cold." Did you? Sure, the store's air con was a bit much for well after midnight, the scorching heat long gone with the sun, but you weren't cold.

"What?"

He laughed to himself before the smirk returned. "You look cold." This time, his eyes darted down for a few lingering moments to your chest. "Oh." you said, dumb founded at this new side to Steve.

Oh.

In the thin material of your shirt, the cold stream of air had made certain areas more visible than others. Flushed with embarrassment, you shrugged on the sweatshirt. It was miles too big for you, the sleeves going way past your hands and swamping you. "Cute," Steve mumbled lightly, his own light blush littering his cheeks.

You felt the familiar tightness in your chest that came along with being around Steve these days. The aching desire to just , for the love of God, touch him. To have him touch you. For him to want you as you wanted him. You knew you weren't hiding it well, and somehow that made the ache worse; it meant that either Steve knew and ignored it, or was oblivious. You didn't know which option you would prefer at this point, or which would be the least painful.

Little moments- if you could even call them that- were becoming more common place. Steve would take the longer route to drive you home, playing your favourite music any time you were at his house - despite the fact that you knew he didn't always like it, letting you borrow his clothes after a long night swimming. Was it flirting? You thought so, but then he'd give a long speech on how much he valued you as a friend, and that well known pang of hurt would sit on your heart.

You stared at each other for a long few seconds. Steve had this look on his face. Anger? Confusion? He took a breath, as though he were about to say something, when the intercom sounded over the speakers. "Shoppers, the store will be closing in ten minutes."

You stepped away from one another, and Steve walked wordlessly with the cart over to the check out. You physically recoiled. It felt like you had been stung, on the precipice of maybe, just maybe, voicing the feelings. The way he had looked, eyes soft and lips parted in thought, made you shiver. You followed him with a low head.

You checked out in silence. It was awkward. It was never awkward with Steve, and now it was painfully quiet. You loaded the bags into the back of Steve's car, again in silence, and jumped in. When you both reached for the stereo, your hands brushing lightly, Steve flinched away.

You felt sick.

Something had gone terribly wrong , and the banter had blurred the line of flirty friendship and straight flirting. It felt suffocating in Steve's car. The seatbelt felt like it was digging into your stomach, amplifying your growing nausea as you noted Steve's white knuckle grip on the wheel. "Stop the car," you said. You cringed at the meekness of your voice; you sounded like a child. When Steve didn't respond, you said it again. "Steve, let me out. Stop the car."

"We're on a back road, I can't stop . It's dangerous." Steve's voice was tight, hoarse from the silence. It made your eyes sting.

Out of your control , you felt tears welling in your eyes. Why were you crying? You felt ridiculous. You felt small. You felt like you were going to throw up all over the car. "I don't care, let me out." When he ignored you again, you pleaded. "Please! I'm gonna puke!"

At that, the car screeched to a halt - of course the prospect of the car being ruined would make him stop. The second the wheel stopped moving, you ripped your seatbelt off and jumped out. You felt like your stomach was in your mouth as you stalked away from the car.

"Hey, come on, what are you doing?"

You ignored Steve as you bent by a tree - bleary eyed as you felt your heart sink. "Back up, I really don't feel good."

He continued toward you, stopping behind you and scooping up your hair. "Hey, hey, you're alright. Come on, we're almost home."

You allowed him to guide you back to the car. The remainder of the journey, you closed your eyes and rested your head on the window. When the car rolled to a stop, you realised you were at Steve's house, not yours. "We're almost home," he had said.

The steps from the car to the house, from the front door, up the stairs, and to Steve's bathroom was a blur. One moment you were strapped in and the next you were sat on the seat of the toilet, Steve between your parted knees as he rifled through the bathroom cabinet for Tylenol and a small bottle of liquid. Passing you the pill, he poured some of the liquid - which you gathered was make up remover- on to a cotton pad. He gently swiped over your smudged eyes. "There ya go," he whispered. The action made your heart thud inside your chest. You really liked Steve. Maybe more than you realised. Maybe you had more than a crush on him, you didn't know.

You let him wipe away your mascara tears, hands gentle and soft on your cheeks as he held your face. When it was over, and he removed his feather light touch, a knew wave of tears welled in your eyes. "Hey, come on," he said, crouching to your level. You wanted to scream. Wanted to yell at him how much you liked him, maybe more, and ask him to be yours. The only thing that would come out were soft sobs as you lowered your head into your hands.

Steve could feel his heart cracking at the sight before him. His friend, his best friend, breaking down in front of him and he felt helpless as to what to do. So he wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on top of yours. "What's wrong?" he whispered in to your hair. You just shook your head against him. If you told him how you felt, the friendship would end. You were sure of it. Steve would be disgusted, and never see you the same as before. "Come on, talk to me."

When you raised your head to look in his eyes, the remaining shards of Steve's heart shattered. You looked so broken. So tired. Defeated. He cupped your cheek gently. "Tell me."

You simply tilted your head, hoping the he could feel the pang of your heart against your ears and read the emotion as your eyes welled again. To emphasise, you leaned forward. Your forehead rested against his for a second before you pulled away, raising your brows.

"Oh." Steve whispered.

He was silent for a moment,

"Oh."

His tone was hard to decipher, but his confusion was evident by the small v shape forming between his brows. It was so quiet that you could hear the thrum of the pool outside the closed windows. You felt like your heart was going to burst through your chest at any moment.

It was only after you swallowed the lump in your throat that you realised that Steve's lips were on yours.

It was a soft, gentle kiss. More a brushing of the lips, testing the waters to see if what Steve thought was correct. When you didn't pull away - instead leaning into his touch- he kissed you again. This time, his lips met yours as though they were two puzzle pieces. ,Made to fit together. His lips were slightly chapped, but that didn't matter at all to you as you wrapped your arms around Steve's neck. When the two of you needed air and pulled away, Steve continued to pepper light kisses all over your face, spending extra time on the corners of your mouth. He wrapped his arms around your legs, and in one swift motion lifted you from your place on the toilet and hoisted you up.

He spun you around, cheering to himself in a laugh.

"Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to do that?" He said as he set you down on your feet. His hands lingered on your waist, not inclined to let you go anytime soon. When you shook your head, he lowered his lips to your ear. "I've wanted you since the moment you since the moment you walked into Scoops." His lips met the shell of your ear then. "Since I saw you walk into my 5th period History."

You pulled away in shock, looking at him with wide eyes. When Robin had introduced you, Steve had acted as though he didn't quite know who you were. "You remembered me? But you-"

"You thought I was gonna waltz up and introduce myself as the guy that crushed on you all of his senior year? I don't think so." He pinched your cheeks when you blushed. "Had to be cool, hard to get. Chicks dig it."

You jabbed him in the ribs lightly. "Do they now?"

"Well, you certainly did."

Another jab, this time stopped as he grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips. "You're an idiot, Steve Harrington."

He kissed your knuckled gently.

"Yeah, maybe. But I got the girl, so how much of an idiot can i really be?"

The answer was a lot. But that didn't matter. Steve liked you. Maybe even loved you, and you'd forever be grateful for the gang of middle schoolers that sent you out on late night shopping trips because of it.

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oneatlatime · 6 months

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The Journey to Ba Sing Se Part 2: The Drill

Could I have Appa back please?

The Previously On segment actually didn't spoil anything for once. Nice.

I do like these tank things. In fact I like all Fire Nation technology. Not what it's used for. But the designs are neat. And more interesting than most actual military tech. You ever look at something techy, and think to yourself 'there was an artist involved here,' because that's the impression FN tech gives me. It's not beautiful, but there's a pleasing toothiness to it.

Excellent sound design on the metal screechy moving bits. And is that tank escort really necessary?

I know this is a kids' cartoon, with characters that are designed to be the audience's age. I know! And usually I can suspend my disbelief and forget that I'm watching children do very adult jobs! But this caught me so off guard I laughed. The Fire Nation's big secret project to break through the wall once and for all, that would be an absolute career making achievement for whoever is in charge, and they've given it to a bunch of teenage girls. This is where my suspension of disbelief stops.

Can you imagine the meeting where this was proposed? The Fire Lord being like "Who can lead the attack on Ba Sing Se? We lost Zhao at the North Pole, does whoever it is who occupies his equivalent rank in the Army want the job? Or even Zhao's second in command perhaps? Or how about: three middle school girls, two of which aren't even members of the military? Doesn't that sound like a good plan?" And of course all his advisors have to agree and be like "that sounds like an excellent plan your lordship; did you have any particular girls in mind or should we go scout out the local Claire's?" because the last guy who disagreed with him got his face blown off. I don't care how viciously talented Azula and friends are; a country that puts eighth graders in charge of invasion plans should have lost the war in year one, not still be winning it in year 99.

Did that random commander guy just smack Ty Lee in the face?

Problem the first of this plan: unless the Fire Nation has invented pocket dimensions or bags of holding, there is no way that that drill, even stuffed full of soldiers, would hold enough people to take a city that seemingly contains every single refugee in the entire Earth Kingdom.

Do you think those refugees got preferential treatment for arriving on an Avatar powered elevator?

"I'm the Avatar. Take me to whoever's in charge." OWN IT BABY!!!

That's one hell of an irrigation system they must have.

"He was quickly expunged." Was he? I got the impression he quit. Of his own accord.

Something tells me like forty guys throwing rocks won't stop that thing.

So... what was Mai doing that whole fight? Hanging decoratively off a rope?

I'd forgotten how stupid Earth Kingdom generals were. Luckily Sokka is there to vicariously express my opinion of them. A reverse beat up Sokka quota fulfillment!

Toph is such a little shit and I love her.

Aang sure does put up with a lot sometimes. Part of being the Avatar. It's a good thing he has such patience. Can we talk about how lucky the world is that Aang is the one tasked with putting up with nonsense like this? Imagine if Sokka or Toph were the Avatar. There would be casualties.

I like complaining too buddy. Nice to see Sokka's worth being recognised. Now can we do that outside of a life or death situation too please?

I joke about Zuko's dumbass behaviour, but let's be honest, it's inherited.

Jet. Fuckboy. You do not make it easy to even slightly like you. Guy is missing the point as much as Zuko usually does. Going straight MEANS leaving the freedom fighters behind. It doesn't mean reforming them somewhere else. And what Fire Nation threat are you going to find in Ba Sing Se for your Freedom Fighters to fight? You know, if this idiot was actually serious about fighting for Freedom rather than blowing stuff up for fun, he'd fudge his age and enlist in the Earth Kingdom Army.

Four points: How does Katara know Ty Lee's name? Is this confirmation that waterbending healing cannot remove a Chi block? I love that the trait that gives away Ty Lee's identity is the fact that she cartwheeled away. I love Sokka. Just in general.

There is no way this girl is not tripping.

Can you imagine how loud standing right next to that drill must be?

ABS

Normally I'd say that one earthbender trying to slow the drill down with spikes will work even worse than the Terra Team who tried and failed with like 40, but this is Toph we're talking about. It could work.

These children are so polite when they're committing industrial sabotage. Truly, they were raised well.

Do you ever get the feeling that whoever is in charge of designing Fire Nation armour is into a few things that he's trying to repress so hard that they're coming out in all the wrong places?

Jet seems to have lost all the manipulative abilities he had in his episode. Suddenly he's very bad at reading body language and keeps saying the exact opposite of what he should.

New achievement unlocked! 1000% agreeing with something Zuko said! That was a pretty stupid move.

Cups made out of leaves are neat.

Katara, you can't have it both ways. You can't look to Sokka to make the plan, then get snippy when the plan correctly plays to all of your strengths. He physically CAN'T bend. Either you come up with a better plan yourself, or you do as the guy you appointed planner suggests.

Points in favour of allowing Katara to murder people, exhibit 1.

Confirmed: Sokka is catnip for girls.

Even in comparison to the others, Ty Lee has a bad case of cartoon physics.

Did Katara just disarm herself? That'll come back to bite her in 3, 2, 1...

Mai gets a second personality trait! Yay!

There is no way this is actually practical armour. This is someone in procurement with a thing for sweaty bulging muscles and puppy masks.

And thus, the log ride was born. Later versions would go on to perfect the concept by introducing a log.

I felt Sokka's mud freakout in my bones. Looks like Katara giving away her water isn't going to be a problem.

Petition to let Katara say bitch. The voice actress said Circus Freak but I know what I heard in my heart.

Remember that time Sokka smacked his forehead so many times that his face was permanently red? My turn now.

Aang. I know you love your friends. But maybe a battle on top of a moving machine of destruction in the midst of an aerial assault from your idiotic allies while facing off with the single most powerful and amoral firebender in existence, isn't a place to bring your pet lemur?

Beat up Sokka quota fulfilled by little sister. It's surprising that isn't the case more often. I know Sokka took it too far, but if you don't want him telling you what to do, maybe you shouldn't have looked to him for a plan?

Toph is here! Day saved.

Finally some sense re: Momo safety.

Time for the Western showdown. There's even something that could stand in for a water tower in the background.

If Azula had just struck at Aang the second he got knocked unconscious, rather than waiting until he woke up for dramatic purposes, she would have won this. I give Zuko Hell for being a theatre kid, but he's not the only one in the family.

I would love to know what they make Fire Nation boot soles out of. They have supernatural traction.

I take back everything I said about pet safety. That was a really cool Momo assist.

Aang invents the pneumatic hammer.

I LOVE that the cut braces had an effect after all. Sokka's contribution counts!

I bet this guy's wishing he'd been eaten by a giant fishman like Zhao right about now. Have fun explaining that one to the Firelord!

HOW is Ty Lee still alive?

HOW does Azula still have knees after that drop?

HOW does Mai have such perfect timing?

ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN

They really ought to put wheels on all but the back car to reduce friction and save energy. Then again, if the Earth Kingdom is one thing, it's stupid.

So... Jet's change of heart lasted a bit less than one episode. Good job fuckboy!

So precious.

So Pretty.

Final Thoughts

This was like 90% action, with the other 10% being split between Zuko & Iroh plot stuff and Sokka playing comic relief. So there's not that much to talk about here really (she says, having found a whole post's worth of stuff to talk about).

Sokka had his bossy pants on, admittedly because he was asked to don them. Aang got to do some proper Avataring. Katara and Toph got to exercise their bending muscles. I'm not surprised that Toph was absent for much of the middle of the episode, because - let's be honest - given the right tools, Toph would have finished the Drill in one move. And then they'd be out of episode.

Actually, Mai got to have a personality beyond Too Bored To Live this episode. This is probably the most personality I've seen out of her so far. She's much more expressive when she's with just Ty Lee, rather than Ty Lee and Azula.

And Zuko! Had! Common! Sense! Iroh had to be a dumbass for Zuko to shine, but Zuko was, once again, the most reasonable character in his little B plot. For future reference: If you want to make Zuko reasonable, all you have to do is nerf his uncle and juxtapose him with a terrorist.

I loathe Jet. Always have, probably always will. But I'm still disappointed in him. His 'turning over a new leaf' - if it was sincere at all - lasted like 10 on-screen minutes. I feel sorry for Smellerbee and Longshot. I don't think their faith in their glorious leader is going to be repaid. He seems to brush off Smellerbee's opinions.

The strangest thing this episode was how few lines Azula had. I guess maybe they were using silence to try to show how calculating and collected she is compared to others, but honestly my first thought was that the voice actress had something going on. A cold? A previous engagement? It felt really weird to hear her speak so little, since previous episodes have shown she's not averse to gloating and dramatic monologues. She didn't even have much in the way of facial expressions.

I think the winners this episode were Mai, who got to have a personality; Zuko, who got a turn with the brain cell; and Aang, who got to work out pretty much all the bending he knows so far and successfully Avatar.

I did notice with some of the shots of Aang moving the big boulders the idiots were chucking down, that there was a kind of fuzziness to the air between Aang and what he was moving. Was I seeing the actual bending energy (Chi I guess) moving?

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #avatar the last airbender #the drill

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kxzush1 · 4 months

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Sobbing quietly

pairing: Charles Leclerc x Y/N (childhood friends)

summary: Y/N and Charles are childhood friends and they share their trauma of losing people they love.

warning: angst.

note: changed Charles's and Charlote's dating timeline a bit.

Y/N and Charles are childhood friends. Y/N moved to Monaco with their parents when they were a kid. They started karting and met Charles, Esteban, Pierre and Anthoine. They became friends off the track quickly, and rivals on the track quickly.

As Y/N's parents weren't always the best, they often would spend time with Charles. Hanging around his house, spending time with Charles, even with his parents, as they would take care of them like Y/N's their kid. They also met Jules. Jules Bianchi. One of their favourite people beside Charles. He made Y/N laugh a lot, and they made many memories. But then he crashed. And they said he was in a coma. They went to visit him in October with Charles. And they cried a lot. But they said he could get better. So Y/N was a bit happier. A few months later, it was not so good, and then- and then..

Jules died. It was night. Y/N was over at Charles's. They woke up in the middle of the night, hearing some noise from downstairs. They saw Lorenzo. He didn't look good. And then they told Y/N.

"Y/N please tell him.. I don't think I can bring myself to." Lorenzo whispered. They sobbed quietly, leaning there against the couch, sitting on the floor. Their hands covering her face.

"I- I don't know if I can either, please.." Y/N whispered back, but then they heard those steps. Y/N recognised them. Those light steps, they were his. Y/N looked up, saw him walking down those steps, rubbing his eyes.

"Y/N.." he mumbled, almost like he was searching for them. Then he looked at the people before him. He looked at Y/N. Their eyes met. It was like Y/N told him wordlessly.

"Charles.. Jules just died." Y/N whispered, wiping their tears away. And Charles just stared, and he couldn't bring himself to cry. But Y/N understood. Standing up, Y/N walked up the stairs, took his hand and led him back to his room. They laid down and Y/N pulled him closer. And then he cried. Only in their arms. On the bed, and then at the funeral.

Y/N was a talented driver, a very talented one. Stepping into Formula 2 a year earlier than Charles, in 2016, they didn't win the championship in the first year, nor the second one, but that one, they didn't mind it. Because that year, it was different.

The year ended in tears,not in those of joy, but in those of sadness. Hervé died. Charles was almost broken, almost. But he stayed strong, became the strongest he could and won the championship. That was the one thing Y/N couldn't bring herself to do. They were battling for the championship too. But when Y/N saw their 'almost dad' passing, they couldn't bring themself to make it. Or maybe, Y/N let Charles win.

'I went to congratulate Charles. I think. I don't know for sure. The only thing I remember was the fact that I had so many tears in my eyes, I almost couldn't see. It was almost as if I was under water. I couldn't hear who was talking to me. But, then my vision finally cleared, and I saw Charles. It made me cry even more. I got one look from him and it was like we knew what we wanted to say to each other in that moment. Yes, maybe he beated me in that championship, but that was the last thing important from that day.'

-An excerpt from Y/N's book: 'A way down'

They both got into F1 then. Charles in Alfa Romeo, and Y/N in McLaren. They both were happy, nervous, excited, still sad. But they were still kids in that time. The first year was fine, the next year, he got a girlfriend, Charlotte. Y/N was friends with her. Charles looked happier, and Kate was there for it. They both focused on their carreers. Y/N was succesful. The McLaren car suited them. They had a good rookie year. And Y/N was a bit happier again. The next year, not so good. Having issues with their car, but trying their best.

August 2019. Formula 2. The crash of Anthoine. That shook Y/N. It took them one lap at the track to know that they couldn't. But Charles won. And they was proud.

"How was the funeral there, If I may ask?"

"It was.. I mean it was bad. I wasn't doing good. And not just because of the death, but because I knew that my career was getting bad. And then, seeing that we all were there for it, I mean it kinda reunited us. I mean, Pierre and Esteban, mostly. Of course Charles was there too, but I always talked to him a lot. But it felt like I've lost those other two friends when we joined Formula 1.

Anyway, it was also the moment of.. realisation I think? Like I remembered all the losses at that moment standing there and it dawned on me. And from that moment, it got bad."

-Y/N being interviewed on the 'High performance' podcast.

It was kind of expected. Y/N was failing the last of the season, either crashing or just retiring from races. They couldn't handle all of it anymore. Then lockdown came, and Y/N announced retiring from Formula 1. Y/N took care of themself and post-breakup Charles. He was sad a lot, but he was streaming a lot too. They moved in with him. It was his idea. He saw Y/N sad and wanted to help them. So as they held him in their arms throoughout life, he returned the favour, at least slightly.

They talked a lot, hugged a lot, laughed a lot and cried a lot. It was needed after all those years. Spent holidays together at home, enjoying each other. And then they realised how in love with each other they've always been.

BREAKING: Y/N APPEARS WITH CHARLES ON THE SUZUKA CIRCUIT TO WALK THROUGH THE CIRCUIT AND PUT FLOWERS ON THE DUNLOP CURVE, TURN SEVEN, REMEMBERING JULES BIANCHIS, CHARLES'S GODFATHERS CRASH.

BREAKING: CHARLES AND Y/N REVEAL THEIR ONGOING LOVE RELATIONSHIP THAT STARTED IN 2020.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #charles leclerc #cl16 #cl16 imagine #cl16 x reader #y/n #cl16 x y/n #my writing #angst #angst with a happy ending

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