#my friend read my poetry book and he said one of the things he liked most was how honest and open i was about my feelings and i was like...
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Waiting room
Pairing: Dr ratio, Aventurine, Sunday x g/n!reader
Summary: You can love, get on your knees and wait on a miracle. There are things that are for you and aren't for you, you should know. It's for the better.
Cw. Heavy angst, no comfort, 1% fluff, manipulative men, toxic relationships, insecurities, death?, unrequited love, breakups, them neglecting you cos…, no closure, what is love?
A/n: hi, time to make you cry. I'm getting writer's block as I'm making a new novel!! It has the ‘your guardian angel’ fics plot but w my characters. 🥳
Dr ratio
He's a simple man, really.
Drown yourself in endless textbooks, advanced literature and neglect every other thing.
Like his thirst for knowledge; love is endless, affection is abundant.
Is what you initially thought.
It has been the 4th time this week that he turned down your requests, “Dear, you know I have no time for that.”
He does not try to sugarcoat his words, he does not try to make his tone less harsh, “I don't have time for dates, such a waste of time.'' He says it like it is, he says it like it's true.
Your eyebrows creased, annoyed at his flippant attitude, “What do you mean waste of time?”
Veritas takes one glance at you, then back to his nonsense book. To him, it was useless wasting his breath on arguing with you.
“Veritas, you said we'll go, you promised.”
He is cruel, his words flinty. “I do not recall making any atrocious promises to you, are you perhaps going insane?”
Insane?
“Insane? Last week, you promised me.”
“I did not.”
“Yes you did.”
He scoffs, as if offended, “If I did, then I was not thinking straight. I have a thesis due tomorrow. A date can wait.”
Veritas is a man with priorities and out of all of them, it seems, you were not one of them. He'd rather his books kept him company, not you. It's obvious, his pursuit of knowledge was greater than loving you.
He lit his lamp, taking his pen and highlighting some paragraphs, what was so important with them? You could not help but come closer, skimming through the contents, it was just some theory some genius society member wrote.
“You're miserable,” it might've accidentally slipped out, but it was true; he is, in fact, the most miserable of all men.
Veritas rolled his eyes, pushing his reading glasses and annotating whatever statement was written. The candle light flickered when his heavy breaths fanned over it, not paying mind to whatever you say.
Your patience was thinning, how long was he planning to play this damned game?
“Veritas.”
You call out once.
“Veritas!”
Again, in anger.
“Veritas”
The last time, desperately.
He does not respond, he does not care. Yet your voice was ringing in his ears in an unpleasant way, “Is this about the date?”
You were taken aback by his curt reply, it wasn't just about the date. “Is that all? Do you think that's the only reason?”
“Hypothetically speaking, yes.”
“Cut the bullshit, veritas.”
Veritas glares at you, as if making a statement; a bullshit one at that. He does not have time for mindless topics, he's overworked, he's tired, he's unsatisfied.
For a moment, you have the urge to yell at him. This shallow bastard has done nothing but fool you with aureate words, he writes poetry about you and shows you off.
He loves you because you are all he has. He may be an asshole but he loves you the way he knows how to love you.
Tonight, however, you are done with his bullshit. You do not argue further, he is confused. When you leave this room with no more qualms, when you do not scream at him, he is bewildered.
“Where are you going?” It's strange that he noticed you for the first time. Only when you get dressed up and when he hears the keys jingle, does he notice every single detail.
You adjusted the cuffs of your blouser, “I'm staying at a friend's”
“Which one?”
“None of your business.”
Stunned, he drops his pen. Why are you acting so off? You're driving him insane.
“What do you mean none of my business? Stop acting so childish.”
That was your last straw, childish? Childish? The fucking audacity.
“You are more childish.”
“How so?”
“You— do I even have to explain it?”
Nothing could quell your frustration other than being away from him for the meantime, “Yes,” he loves you, he wants to know. But even if he does, he never learns; so much for a genius.
“You neglect me, you prioritise this,” it was tempting to crumple his papers, “—over me.” So you did.
He is indifferent. He does not understand how and why it hurts you. So he tries to understand it from a logical standpoint, “So you want to really go on that date?”
“I'm tired of asking”
Tired of begging him to treat you right, to love you like you want him to love you.
He stays quiet.
“I'm tired of begging for something so small.”
“You didn't have to destroy my goddamn book,” he seethed and pulled the book from your hands, too absorbed in the damage of the book he does not notice how much he has damaged you. Veritas is too blind to see you holding back tears despite wearing his glasses.
The force surprised you, “Is that thing much more important?”
“What?”
“Answer me Veritas Ratio.”
It was merely just a book, but it was precious. It was a rare one, it annoyed him to immeasurable depths when you crumpled it so recklessly.
He does not answer.
“I'm leaving,” he's not sure if leaving meant temporarily, he hopes it is. He hopes you come back again tomorrow night.
So he waits. Tomorrow came, but you did not come home.
Aventurine
He loves you, he really does.
His idea of love is adorning you with jewels, showering you with riches.
Too much that you suffocate, it hurts. You can't breathe, soulless eyes stare into yours.
It's when you realise, he's trapping you. Does he think you're stupid? What does he take you for?
“Darling! I got you a gift!”
The 22nd one this week… Aventurine makes haste and runs behind you, wearing the necklace on you, it looks… okay.
You look like a doll, his doll.
But you are not a doll, you are human.
And like all humans, we all wish to be loved and cherished as an equal.
“Do you like it?” It would be rude to say no, but it does not fit you. Sure it accentuates your neck, but it's too much.
“I…” you traced your finger over the gem, “I do.”
“Great! I'll get you another tomorrow!” It is tiring. As much as planets worth of gold and extravagant jewels excite you, you would rather be in his presence.
You do not recall the last day he's ever taken you out on a proper date, you do not recall any time where he's been open to you about his past because you know damn well his name could never just be ‘Aventurine’.
You were sitting on the couch, sipping tea with your eyes glued to your book. Before you knew it, soft lips grazed on your cheek.
“You're back earlier than expected,” he smiles as he pressed another kiss onto you, “I ditched the meeting, for you.”
Oh how you hate it when he does things in your name just to make you indebted to him. Aventurine loves you, but love is transactional.
“Is that so?” He nods, wrapping his arms around you. “I'll buy you something again, we have another business trip in Penacony.”
It makes you wonder, does he think gifts are the only thing that'll make you stay?
He could see the reluctance in your eyes, “Is something on your mind?”
You bit your lip, “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.”
A deafening silence fills the room before he chuckles, he is everything but stupid. He knows, he knows you want to spend time with him, he knows you’d incinerate those gifts in a heartbeat just to trade even an hour spending time with him.
“Dear, I promise, next time,” he pressed light kisses on your exposed shoulder, but it isn’t enough: what truly is enough?
You want to push him away, with how ruthless he is with making empty promises so easily, “You said ‘next time’ last time.”
”I promise, I do.” Even he sounds unsure. You pick up on the hint of hesitation laced in his promises, he regrets it, but he thinks; he’s doing it for you, for the both of you.
“You said that too last month,” you scoff.
He tried to intertwine your fingers together yet to no avail, you rejected him, “Why are you acting up again?”
There’s only so many gifts can buy but he can never purchase the time lost that could’ve been spent in lazy mornings together yet he traded it all for credits. The second attempt, he forces a smile and even pulls a tiny ring for you, that gem you loved so much engraved in the centre. Words cannot express how much you despise these gifts because it was just a pathetic compensation for the neglect.
”Please, next month.” He took your hand in his and put the ring on your ring finger. “Okay?”
You cling to that possibility, to that sliver of hope when he is done with Penacony, he is relieved of his duties and he is finally free. That he no longer has to overcompensate for his absence and shower you with the time he’s lost.
You know next month won’t come, yet you are no different from a fool.
”Okay”
You wait upon endless tomorrows, two months have passed and none of his coworkers have any good news about his well-being. They’re sure he’s dead, but you still wait for that tomorrow where he is home to come.
Sunday
Love, what truly is love?
Is it when you praise your lover with endless ‘I love you’s?
Is it when you hold their hand and protect them for the impending doom to come?
or rather, is love just a fallacy built on a string of lies?
Sunday believes that he knows what’s best for you.
Before Sunday, you were allowed to make your own decisions.
Before Sunday, you actually had freedom.
The halovian swears he knows what’s best for you.
He makes sure everything you want or need, you get.
Sunday will kiss your tears away, even if he is the sole reason for them. ”It’s for your own good.” he says.
To strip you of freedom, to shackle you to him like a bird in a cage. His sweet kisses, his love, his everything; they’re all fucking poison. He does not hesitate to drown you in his poison if it means protecting you.
You cry out, “Sunday.” In desperate pleas.
But he will not listen, he’ll pretend he doesn’t hear anything.
He believes that if he gives you the taste of freedom, you’ll find a way to fly away from his grasp– he will not allow it. So he does what he’s best at, keeping you stuck to him.
”What do you want, dear?” He smiles at you like he’s never sinned.
You throw away the pathetic gifts he adorned you with, gold, diamonds and stones you could not name but they are not what you want, “I want to see my friends.”
”They’re no good, trust me.” Your friends once told you that you should go, that he’s toxic, but you were a fool to drown in him.
“What do you know about my friends?” He’s done everything to kill that flame inside of you, that hope that maybe one day you’d escape him and be free once again, you’re a fool, he thinks.
He clicks his tongue as he puts down his newspaper at the coffee table, ”They tried to take you away from me.”
”They did not, you know I would never leave you.” A blatant lie but it's stupid that you take him for a fool that’ll believe your words.
He only chuckles, your attempts to get away from him are futile, it’s pathetic it makes him laugh. “I admire your confidence, but you’re staying here tonight.”
Death has never been more alluring under his influence, but you can not die.
“Please,” you beg again, but he only presses his finger to your lips, “Shh…”
”One day you’ll thank me for taking such good care of you.” He gets down on his knees to kiss the back of your hand, “You’re safe here.”
He gets up to sit right next to you, he doesn’t flinch when you slap his face away when he tries to kiss you. The man only grabs your wrist when you try to push him away again. He kisses you with passion, in love but is it truly love when there is no trust?
There’s no use questioning his intentions, “This is for your own good.”
What good is there when there is no freedom? He thinks beautiful birds should be protected. Even if it meant being trapped in a cage, stripped of any sense of freedom, as long as you're safe, as long as you're here with him, he is content. "Dont give me that look."
Your eyes train on the way he rolls his eyes at your defiance, "Just let me go."
Sunday glares at you, his grip on your wrist tight, you're sure he's about to tear it off. "No."
When will you stop acting like a child?
The halovian is too far down the rabbit hole of self righteousness and his obsession with you that he if he needs to tear you limb by limb to keep you close to him, to keep you from rubbing away, he will do it.
His phone rings, it must be business calls again, Penacony sure is in a state of chaos when it's crumbling down. He lets go off you to take his phone.
"Yes yes... Sunday speaking."
You dont understand what they're murmuring about. All you could register is it's something about his sister.
His facial expression turned grim the more time he spent on the phone. The phone call ends and he puts it down, the life from his face drained but when he sees you, he is relieved.
You are still here with him.
He intertwined your hands together, you can feel anger and despair that he's exuding as he stares at you like a deer in the headlights. "Please, promise me."
"You'll never leave me too."
It doesn't sound like a question, it sounds like a statement.
You'll truly never know what freedom is, for that is only a privilege that you can never have. In his arms you cannot cry, because he'll drown you in his lies again and again.
On the bright side, you are never alone. You will always have Sunday, whether you like it or not.
Note: bye i got extreme writer's block at Sunday's part I had to take almost a 2 week break bc i rlly have no idea what to write for him oh my god. I absolutely did not give them justice 😥
Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡
#what have i done#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail x you#hsr fluff#hsr x reader#honkai star rail angst#dr ratio angst#dr ratio fluff#dr ratio x reader#aventurine angst#aventurine x reader#aventurine fluff#hsr aventurine#aventurine honkai star rail#hsr sunday x reader#hsr sunday#sunday fluff#sunday x reader#honkai star rail sunday#veritas ratio#veritas ratio x reader
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Poems
main masterlist | supernatural masterlist
summary: dean searches your room when you’re missing, and the love letters he finds break his heart
pairing: dean winchester x female reader
rating: R for language
word count: 1.9k (1.5k excluding poems)
warnings: reader goes/is missing, language,
author’s note: please don’t make fun of my “poetry”, i know it’s not good that’s why i don't write poems lol
“Hey Dean, I’m working a case near Wichita so I’ll probably be back home by the end of the week. See you soon, bye.”
“That’s the last I heard from her,” Dean told his brother after playing him the message you left. “It’s been over a week, I’m gettin’ worried here!”
“Do you know what kinda case she was working?” Sam asked, Dean shook his head. “Okay, well I’m sure she’s fine, Dean. Let’s call the hospitals around where she is and ask if she’s there.”
“You do that, I’m gonna head to Wichita,” Dean replied.
“I think we should call the hospitals first, Dean. She said she was near Wichita, she could be anywhere from here to there!”
Dean sighed but agreed with Sam’s plan.
**
The boys had no luck with any of the hospitals so they decided to head over to Wichita and look for you. They searched for a few days before heading back to the bunker, hoping you might be there waiting for them. You weren’t, of course, and that only made their worry grow.
You’d been missing for nearly two weeks!
Dean thought there might be some kind of clue in your room and decided that searching it was next on his to-do list. Though he knew he was grasping at straws, he did it anyway.
Opening the door to your room, he smiled at the poster near your bed. It was the one he’d gotten you for Christmas last year. It was a kind of gag gift—it was his favorite band. (His real gift had been much more thoughtful.)
He began his search at your desk, digging through the mess of papers splayed out on the wood surface. His brows furrowed when he found one paper in particular. It looked like… a love poem?
The way your hair looks in the morning
The way your laugh adds life to moments boring
The way your breath hits my neck when you’re standing just behind me
Reaching over to grab something off the table
A lore book, of all things to be
And the way your eyes light up when you look into mine
I swear I almost see a hint of love
Behind those piercing starlights
Your lips on mine is what I need
Did you hear me?
I said kiss me, you fool!
We’ve not got much time
In this line of life
And I need you at my side.
Dean didn’t know if the poem would be considered “good” in the public eye, but he knew it made his heart clench. You were in love? But… with whom?
To him, the words were beautiful, and the thought that you wrote them about someone else broke his fucking heart. He knew there were no clues to your whereabouts in the next poem, but of course, he read it anyway.
I think of you when I drive and spot a classic car
I think of you when I eat a cheeseburger
And I’ll turn it upside down when I’m missing you
I think of you when I hear a Zepplin song
And I turn the music up when I’m not with you
I think of you when I see anyone wear flannel
Or a leather jacket that’s clearly a size or two too big
And I love to think of you
It just makes sense to me
I love to picture you beside me
At night when I can’t sleep
Or when I get scared of what I’m facing
I think of what you would do
Day or night
Night, day, or noon
I always think of you
Whoever this mystery person was, they were fucking lucky. Dean had never felt so jealous in his entire life. He always thought you two had a “will they won’t they” side to your relationship but at that moment he realized it was completely one-sided. The fun, flirty side to all your late-night conversations had just been friendly. Two friends playfully talking as if they both wanted to be more.
Of course Dean wanted to be more. Of course he knew he wanted to be with you. But now? Now he knew he’d either missed his chance or he simply never had one.
You were in love with someone that wasn’t him. And the love you’d been writing about wasn’t the kind someone gets over. It’s the kind that sticks—for life. The kind that people write songs about, the kind that people fight wars over, and the kind that makes people go crazy in the best way.
He knew he’d found that love when he first fell for you, but it turned out you had found that love in someone else.
“Anything?” Sam asked, walking into your room.
“Uhm,” Dean cleared his throat, hoping his eyes didn’t look as cloudy as they felt. “No, nothing important. Just some love letters or something.”
Sam furrowed his brows and picked up one of the poems off the desk, one that Dean had not read yet. As the taller Winchester read what you wrote his eyes grew wide, practically popping out of his head as his mouth fell open.
“Oh my fucking god!” Sam exclaimed. “Y/n’s in love with you?” He looked at his older brother in shock.
“Me? No, these poems are about whoever she’s been seeing recently, they aren’t about me. We’re just friends.”
“You haven’t read this one yet, have you?” Sam asked with a small smile before handing it over.
You asked me today; “what’s your favorite color?”
And I just shrugged; “I don’t know, blue?”
Cause how could I have said the truth?
The color I love most in the world
The color that brings me nothing but joy
In this sad, awful little life
Is the green and hazel of your eyes
The emerald diamonds that shine
When you look into the sun
The soft hazel that looks over at me
When we’re reading in the library
How can I tell you all of this
When the question is so simple and plain
How do I go into such specific detail
About the color I’m in love with
Without freaking you out
Or scaring you away
Or making you laugh at me
Because I know your favorite color
And I know it’s not the color of my eyes
“You…You think this is really about me?” Dean asked his little brother, hoping Sam was right.
“Dean in all my life I have never seen anyone but you eat a burger bun-side-down,” Sam chuckled a little having read one of the poems Dean had read earlier.
“Oh my god.” Dean furrowed his brows, looking back down at the paper in his hands. “We’ve gotta find her, Sammy, I gotta tell her!”
“Tell her that you went through her stuff while she was gone? Don’t think that’s the best idea.”
“No! Tell her I’m in love with her! Tell her that the color of her eyes is my favorite fucking color too! And every time her favorite band comes on the radio I turn it up, and every time I see a woman wearing her type of clothes I think about her. Tell her that all I do every waking moment of every day is wish I was with her, wish I was holding her in my arms so I could never let go.”
“I think you just told her.” Sam smiled, nodding to where you now stood at your door. Dean turned around quickly. Tears of joy stung your eyes as you looked at him and smiled.
“You love me?” you asked.
“More than anything,” Dean admitted as he hurried to you. He wrapped you in a tight hug, kissing your temple quickly before he tucked your head under his chin. “I’m so glad you’re okay!”
“I’m sorry I didn’t call, it’s a long story,” you mumbled. “When vampires ban together with twisted humans, they’re a lot harder to kill.”
“We were really worried about you,” Dean admitted. “Like…fucking terrified.”
“Is that why you decided to dig through my personal shit?” you asked. You were one hundred percent kidding, but Dean was still nervous.
“Yeah…sorry,” Sam cringe-clenched his teeth, “it was my fault.”
You and Dean pulled back from the hug, but you took his hand in yours as you narrowed your gaze at the younger hunter.
“I know your tell, Sammy,” you said. “But it’s sweet that you’re trying to cover for Dean.”
“Yep, all Dean’s fault,” Sam admitted before heading for the door, giving his brother a pat on the shoulder on his way out. “Good luck.”
“Look, I didn’t mean to invade your privacy, I swear,” Dean told you quickly. “I was looking for something that might tell me where the hell you were.”
“How many did you read?” you asked.
“Three,” Dean sighed, still thinking you were pissed at him.
“So…you know, then? That I’m hopelessly in love with you? And you think I’d be mad at you for looking through my stuff?”
“I mean, I know you value your privacy.”
“Dean,” you started, putting a hand on his cheek and turning his face to look down at you, “would you please just fuckin’ kiss me already?”
He seemed almost surprised by your question but he quickly smiled as he bent down and kissed you. His one hand stayed clasped in yours while his other went to your waist and then trailed to your lower back. The hand you had on his cheek went to the upper back of his neck so you could tangle your fingers in his hair. The smiles on both of your faces only grew before you both pulled away.
“Wow, I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Dean mumbled before he let out a short, breathy laugh.
“Me too,” you replied.
**
You’d been back home for a few days now and you had explained the whole missing situation to the brothers. You told them how the simple vampire hunt turned sour quickly when you realized the small-town’s sheriff was in on it and helped the vamps with making humans just disappear. They’d made you as a hunter instantly and held you hostage for a few days before you killed your way out.
Dean never left your side so when he saw a new poem on your desk his brows furrowed. Curiosity got the better of him as he sat down to read it.
My god aren't I lucky
Now that you're holding me at night
And that first time we kissed in the doorway
I could’ve sworn I was kissing pure sunshine
When your lips hit mine it was better
Then I could’ve ever imagined
And the love poems I've written became
Manifested words of affirmation
The butterflies in my stomach fluttered
And the blood rushed to my head
Think I could stay like this forever
Won't overthink it, I’ll just go and kiss you instead
“Well, well, well.” You came up behind him, and put your hands on his shoulders before you trailed them down and clasped them together over his chest, leaning your chin on his shoulder and kissing his cheek. “Look who’s digging through my shit again.” You smiled against his skin. He turned his head and placed a deep kiss on your lips.
“I’m not even sorry this time, because I think this might be the best thing I’ve ever read.”
“I love you,” you said and kissed him again.
“I love you so fuckin’ much,” he mumbled back.
#dean winchester x reader#spn#dean x reader#dean winchester fluff#dean x you#dean winchester angst#dean winchester fic#dean winchester#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester comfort#dean winchester x you#that’s 5+ months of nothing in my head by supernatural!!#supernatural fluff#supernatural fic#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural#supernatural fanfic#spn fic#spn fluff#spn fanfic#by mind empty just fictional people#by jean
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damn perfect hair and damn marvelous eyes
george weasley x fem!reader (hints on short!bookworm!fem!reader)
words| +- 4400
in short| classic story. George falls in love with his best friend. nothing more and nothing less
warnings| my english, angst, fluffy ending, mention of sex and long ranting about George's feelings
author’s note| it's supposed to be a short one. About 1000 words or so, but I got excited. and well, I tried to make it George's pov. because, you know, ✨️his pov✨️. also, it's my first scribbling in two years. enjoy))
He has been with other girls. He'd even said he has been with a lot of other girls.
There were a couple of girls he dated for a while. There were those he just fucked with. A quickie after a Quidditch match won't hurt anyone. It doesn't matter whether he won this match or not. He's well aware of the fact, that girls like him. But none of these so-called relationships were serious. Perhaps this was because he didn't consider any of them as something serious.
He tried this relationship thing because he was curious, what it's like to date a girl. But during his dates, bringing a cup, all painted with tiny violets, to his lips and listening to the chatter of his now ex-girlfriend, he thought that she'd never say such a thing and she'd never order such a lusciously sweet cupcake. And she wouldn't have dragged him to Madam Puddifoot's in the first place.
After smashing Hufflepuff to smithereens on the Quidditch field, he pressed some Ravenclaw's back to one of the walls in the locker room, pounding deep into her, hearing this girl's moans become louder with each thrust. He caught himself thinking about what her moans would sound like. Would she be filthy and loud underneath him or her moans would be more shaky and soft?
He wouldn't say any of these girls were bad, unattractive, or something like that. Just the opposite, all of them were great. But they simply weren't…her. She got deep under his skin, intertwined with his veins, and blossomed in his lungs. She was his Flower. That's how he called her.
George remembers clearly well how it started. No, not his feelings, they started so naturally, that he didn't even notice how he fell for her. George remembers clearly well how he started calling her flower. This happened back in the second year, during History of Magic. He was getting more and more bored by the second in that stuffy classroom. And there was nothing unusual about it. He got bored very easily. So he quietly began scribbling in the corner of her parchment. He remembers the angry look little Y/N gave him as she carefully pushed her piece of paper away from the redhead. She was also bored but did her best to focus on Professor Binns' words. But George continued, all smiling and trying to stifle his giggles caused by her irritation. At some point, his incomprehensible doodles began to look like something that resembled Professor Binns, but his glasses and mustache were abnormally large compared to everything else. She smiled, took George's hand, and carefully drew a tiny flower on his wrist, before returning her attention to Professor. It took him a while to find out what exactly she drew with so neat lines. It looked like an iris or daffodil, he couldn't tell exactly and she didn't know either. But after that she became flower. His flower.
And now George is sitting in the library. He came here to at least start an essay on Potions. Snape become ruthless lately, so it was easier to work in a group on this 5-page assignment about Golpalott's Third Law. That's how he, Y/N, Fred, and Lee ended up in the library. George knew that this was one of her favorite places at Hogwarts. Two and a half hours earlier, when they had passed Madam Pince's stern gaze, he almost unconsciously walked to her favorite table, between the Poetry and Reference sections.
George's re-reading the same sentence in the book for the seventh time. There's something about the idea that a whole product is greater than the sum of its parts, but he can't really understand its meaning because he's thinking about her. It would be more accurate to say that he's thinking about what Lee and Fred had said about her. The evening before, his twin, the only person in this world who was closer to George than Y/N, again claimed that his love was mutual. Fred constantly tried to push him to confess his feelings. His argumentation was always the same. Fred said that he’s older, which means wiser, and he sees everything, how she steals glances at his little shy brother in classes and how she blushes just as much when George is near. But that evening, Lee has added some new information, which George still tries to process and connects with everything else these two have been telling him through the years.
George returns to yesterday in his thoughts. He was lying on his bed again, hopelessly pressing his face into the soft fabric of the pillow, while these two opened the Pandora's box again. Sometimes it seemed to George that they were enjoying this ranting about his 'unrequited' love situation over and over again.
"Ok, look, if she felt nothing but platonic stuff, she'd not be this frustrated when she found out about you and Jane" Lee spoke in a devious voice, getting more comfortable on his bed.
"Wasn't it Jade?" Fred's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"Doesn't matter, I mean this Hufflepuff blondie with the ribbon"
"She's Janis" George sighed. He remembered this relationship, which lasted just over a month or so. Janis was nice, but she talked a bit too much. And this black ribbon, which she constantly wore as a headband, pissed him off. He admitted that the ribbon matched well with her uniform and emphasized the brightness of her hair. But something was wrong with it.
"I thought she was Jade"
"Anyway, why are you telling me about this now?" curiosity and a slight note of annoyance were noticeable in George's voice "It was quite a long ago."
"Look, mate. I'm your friend, right?" Lee sat down, crossed his legs, and the blanket crumpled under his weight. One more movement and the red piece of cloth would end up on the floor. "But I'm her friend as well. She knows that I know. And knows that I overheard that conversation of hers. And I promised, I won't blab it to you…But as it turns out, I'm not the best secret keeper and I'm more of a friend to you than to Y/N"
To tell the truth, Lee was a great secret keeper. Just like he was a great friend. This made George seriously wonder why Lee broke the promise. And so unceremoniously 'blabbed' everything to him. What if he's really as blind as he was told and doesn't see obvious things. He doesn't deny the possibility that she liked him too. More precisely, he doesn't want to deny it. He hopes that Y/N also feels something that crosses the boundaries of friendship. Even if her feelings aren't as strong and all-consuming as his. As if time collapses into one tiny speck and explodes at light speed every time George sees her. He hopes for at least something, for at least a tiny feeling, a tiny sparkle in her heart that flares up at the sight of the tall redhead.
Many times he imagined and replayed in his head the moment he would confess his feelings. Tell her how all the sounds around become quiet when he hears her laugh, how each and every touch imprints and burns on his skin. He dreamed, how he would tell how much he loved her, that he could finally be honest and reveal everything that was in his head and heart.
But the younger twin thinks the stakes are too high. And maybe he's right because she thinks the same thing to herself. Even though George wants more, he doesn't want to risk everything he has right now. His eyes begin to water and a lump rises in his throat every time he assumes he could lose Y/N. His flower. He knows her too well to predict what would happen next if his feelings weren't mutual. Their communication will become awkward, they both will be cautious and afraid of saying or doing something wrong. And then, after some time of this weird communication, their connection will fade away. And even if his love is mutual, what if he and Y/N don’t work out as a couple? What then?
He can't let their previous and future years of friendship go down the drain. Y/N was the first person he and Fred met on the Hogwarts Express. And from the very first year and the very first greeting, the three of them became inseparable. Always together.
She wanted to be a prefect, so she avoided detentions and tried not to get involved in their pranks directly. But Y/N was always there, helped to plan each of their mischiefs, assisted with new inventions, and saved him and his brother from professors. George can't remember how many times she rescued them from Filch while she was patrolling the corridors. He was so proud of her last year when she finally received this little silver pin that gave her extra authority and responsibilities.
George can't imagine Christmas without Y/N now. She visits the Burrow every year and his mom adores her. Perhaps because Y/N helps with cooking more than anyone else in this house. But George can imagine in detail how hard his mother would scold him if he suddenly announce that Y/N won't come for winter break this year because he's an idiot and they stopped talking to each other.
It's not Christmas without having a snowball fight with her and Fred in the backyard. At some point, she always tries to throw Fred into the snow. But due to the obvious height difference and Fred's strength privilege, she never succeeds in this. So she's becoming the one who's giggling on the ground, covered with snow. George always laughs at this little performance while his very kind twin scatters her down with even more snow.
George's envious of his brother in some way. Fred has never seen Y/N as more than a friend or a second sister. He's envious that his twin's heart doesn't ache as much as his does. And his older brother doesn't have to make such a difficult decision. No, George doesn't wish his brother pain. No way. He just doesn't want to suffer himself. George understands, that he's not just at risk of losing her, but also at risk of depriving Fred of his best friend too. If he and Y/N don't work out, what will happen to her friendship with Fred? Yes, perhaps they will be able to maintain some thread of communication. But they certainly won’t be best friends like they are now. George wouldn't handle it. He believes that it's better to be content with the small moments he has than to lose everything.
"Where are you going?" Fred's question snaps the younger twin out of his thoughts. He's still in the library and didn’t even notice how the chair next to him became empty, as Y/N headed towards one of the sections.
“I need this book, about…” her words meet Fred's raised eyebrows "I just need another book"
A quiet “uh-huh,” sounds either from Fred or Lee as her back is already hidden between the shelves full of colorful covers.
George looks for a while longer after Y/N. If someone raised their head from studies or books and glanced at the redhead, they would see the gears turning in his head.
“I…” George moves away from the table. Legs of the chair slide across the floor with a quiet rustle. He tries to come up with some kind of a reason, but Lee is faster.
“We got it, loverboy in shining armor, go already and help your princess” In response George groanes, and a quiet "fuck off" slips from his lips as he heads after his 'princess'. He doesn't know why he decided to follow Y/N. He just wants to. Perhaps he simply feels calmer when she's around, she gives him a feeling of warmth and home just by being near.
And there she is, just three bookshelves away. George can understand why she likes spending time in the library, although he doesn't share this sympathy. It's quiet and peaceful here. High ceilings, impressive columns, and alive stained glass windows are throughout Hogwarts, but they look especially charming in this place. Perhaps it's the specific lighting or the huge number of cabinets filled with old parchment and colored bindings. And, to be honest, he likes the smell of books. There is something about that scent that the redhead can't explain.
Y/N walks along the shelf at the end of the bookrack. Her gaze runs along the top row of colored spines, searching for what she needs. Her hair is up in a messy, almost domestic, bun and secured with a wand. But some strands fell down, framing her face and descending down her neck. The tie hangs loosely around her neck. She undid it after half an hour in the library.
George just stands there and admires her for a while, unable to tear his gaze away. It seems to him as if a soft golden glow surrounds each curve of her glorious body. And this light calls him to come closer. None of the other girls looked like her in his eyes. He swallows, breaks out of this perfect trance, and quietly heads to her.
The girl stands on the very tips of her black shiny shoes. Her fingers almost touch that very book on the top shelf. "Why the hell do they always shove the most useful stuff so far away?" Y/N thinks to herself before long fingers touch the cover of the "Ingredient Encyclopedia". She sees as right above her head a familiar freckled hand takes the faded green binding from its place.
"You're welcome, flower" Y/N turns around at the sound of the voice and finds herself trapped between the worn books and George.
The corners of his lips lift slightly and the younger twin can feel the warmth approaching his cheeks. He can't control it and, to be honest, he doesn't care when she's only millimeters away.
Her "Thank you" is so quiet that George isn't sure she actually said it. Their eyes meet, and it seems to redhead that everything that happened next was in slow motion.
She just wanted to take the book. Such an innocent action. She inhales sharply as her fingertips accidentally brush his hand. He feels high-voltage sparks come from this touch and spread further throughout his whole body and explode where his heart is.
They both froze, not breathing and not breaking an eye contact. George could swear he was ready to give everything he had to live in this moment forever. Just standing next to her in an empty section of the Hogwarts library. Looking into her eyes, losing himself in their depths. And feel the warmth radiating from her hand on his.
Earlier, he thought he'd be nervous at a moment like this but he isn't. He just stares at her eyes, then at her parted lips. "George, don’t do it" he repeats to himself. His fingers shudder imperceptibly with the thought of taking her wand from messy hair, so her locks would fall freely on her fragile shoulders. "Control yourself". He's trying, so damn hard trying not to bury his hands into these shiny strands and pull her into a kiss. It takes all his strength not to. And George doesn't know what happened. Was it Y/N's rosy blush and his brother's words about mutuality flashing through his head. Was it her, standing so close that he could smell his amortentia coming from the girl.
But he gives up. George bends down, without even thinking about it, and presses his lips to hers
George pulls away even faster than he has leaned toward her. There is exposed fear in his widely opened eyes. Eyebrows are raised as the realization crushes his thoughts. His mouth opens and closes without making any sound. It seems that he's more shocked by his own action than Y/N herself.
He fucked up. He knows it.
Y\N stands there still. And this is the first time in the redhead's life that he can't read the emotions of his best friend. "Ingredient Encyclopedia" is still in her palm, but George abruptly pulls his hand away, losing all the warmth she provided to him.
"I'm…I'm sorry" is the only thing he mumbles before storming away from the book section, from the library, from her.
George almost knocks down a first-year with a blue tie when he rushes out around the corner. He fucked up. Y/N didn’t respond to his kiss, she didn’t react at all. She just froze in place. George doesn't understand how he could let himself do this. He shouldn't have. He heads towards the huge wooden door with such speed that some students' parchments fly off their desks. He doesn't notice this, nor the questions from Fred and Lee, that meet his broad back, nor the comments of the furious Madam Pince.
She appears around the corner shortly after George, calling his name. She throws the book on the table and quickly walks past her friends. The faded green binding slides across the wooden surface and lands near Lee's inkpot. Another millimeter and the small glass jar would have been knocked down and poured a black liquid onto the pieces of parchment, only half written with essay.
"For Merlin's sake, what is going on?"
“I'll bet you a galleon that George confessed to her and ran away” Fred speaks with a sly grin, shifting his gaze from the hurrying Y/N to his dormmate.
"Too much drama for these two, don't you think?"
"So…?"
"You're on" Lee agrees, moving the book away from his writings. He only managed to write the introduction and the beginning of the first few theses. It was far from 5 pages but it was at least something and definitely more than George wrote.
George walks through the library entrance. He feels like everything is crumbling inside him as he walks. The sound of his heart pounding in the ears muffles the voice calling his name somewhere behind the back.
"George!…"
He is supposed to be happy. He finally did what he had dreamed of for many years. He finally kissed the girl he was so hopelessly in love with. But instead, he feels as if a dozen Dementors attacked him. All of the hope and happiness have been sucked out of the world.
"George!…"
He'd better get away from here as fast as possible. He'd explain himself later. He'd better get to his safe space. But where should he go if he felt safe only next to her?
"George!….for Merlin's sake!….. I can't keep up with you!"
He recalls everything in his head, from what happened a minute ago to the first time he saw Y\N. He understands that all those happy moments, the tenderness, the memories they both made and the plans for the future, are all gone. He's so disappointed and so angry with himself.
"George!…"
"What?!" He stops and turns around, seeing the girl almost running along the empty corridor of Hogwarts, approaching him.
George heard her calling him. But he's not ready to face the consequences. Not now. He needs time to pull himself back together and come up with something. But he gives up. Again.
"What do you wanna hear, Y|N?!" His hands shoot up in a questioning gesture. "That I'm head over heels in love with you? With your damn perfect hair and damn marvelous eyes! With your damn angelic laughter, which drowns out all other sounds for me! And I even with the way your brows frown when you're concentrated!"
"Georgie…" He doesn't seem to notice her soft voice but continues. She wants to say something, but his confession is unstoppable. And she understands this, so she decides to just let him rant.
"Or do you wanna hear that you became a fixed point in my mind where my thoughts always come back to? That I randomly grin to myself like an idiot when I think about anything related to you. I don't know when exactly I fell for you. But it feels like I've always loved you. You're doing something to me, no one else ever could. You make me feel special and not just another poor Weasley or the second clown of Hogwarts. Every damn time you make me feel important because of who I am and not because I'm the beater or I'm the easiest way to get to Fred." His voice became calmer with each sentence. The irritated raised tone turns into his normal deep timbre, and then it will turn into a soft mumbling. " And you make all of my anxiety and worries turn off just by your presence. I was so fucking angry with myself and you did something I dunno how to explain. So now I can't be this angry. And you are…you are just….you"
She stands next to him. Almost as close as it was back then in the library. Perhaps if George wasn't so nervous, he'd realize that he liked the scent of books because it was her scent. Every time she left the library after spending several hours there, she had this slightest scent on her. It mixed with her perfume and shampoo, so it was impossible to separate and difficult to notice it.
"Are you done?" George doesn't know what to do and just nods his ginger head. Then she rises on her tiptoes and neat fingers finds the collar of his white shirt and pulls it towards her, forcing George to lean forward. Her lips touch his. Again. Only for a few seconds but this makes him blush even more, if it's possible. His freckles aren't this noticeable anymore.
The girl pulls away, the heels of her shoes meet the cold floor and her hands slide onto George's chest. But he continues to stand slightly bent forward, batting his eyelashes. She still has to lift her head slightly to look him in the eyes. In the future, this height difference will piss her off sometimes, but he'll enjoy it endlessly, liking this even more every time.
George stares deeply into her eyes, trying to understand what just happened. But he feels that he can breathe again. And somewhere inside, where his soul is, irises and daffodils and all the other flowers start to blossom slowly. Did she really kiss him? But earlier…
"But you've…." His eyebrows furrow as the puzzles are slowly coming together in his head.
"I was taken by surprise" She explains as she watches his face soften, lips rise into a wide grin that he can't stop. And why the hell should he stop it. "And you didn't give me time to understand what's going on"
George covers her hand with his own. That hand that's laying so peacefully on his rapidly beating heart.
“Sorry,” he chuckles, millimeters from her face. She can feel his breath on her lips, like a ghost kiss, dragging the moment before he crushes his lips down on hers into another real one.
Her lips are soft, almost silken, and pillowy against his own. This kiss is not just a peck, like the previous ones. This time George can understand that her lips are not exactly what he thought. Her lips feel thousands of times better than he could ever imagine. He finally feels relieve and all the world's happiness. All the happiness he supposed to feel. Happiness, that had been accumulating for a long time and didn't leave the palace of his dreams, Finally to escape to freedom. His palms find their place around her waist as he pulls her closer, forcing their bodies to collapse into each other, holding each other as tightly as humanly possible. Her hands shoot up to his hair, slowly letting her fingers slip into ginger strands. He kisses Y/N like he has never kissed anyone else before. With all the tenderness and love he has kept locked in his heart till this moment. George doesn’t see this, but he feels how the gray world around him is filled with colors again. The warmth spreads all over his body and his brain stops working properly.
This girl, this bright and breathtaking girl, is his. Their lips moved softly, delicately, and almost innocently before. But Y/N is driving him insane and intoxicate him with the sweet smell of her body. He can feel her hand slide to his nape and she lightly runs fingers up along his neck. Tiny soft moans escape his lips in the surprise of the goosebumps this action sent down his body. As a response, George brings up his freckled hands to cup her face. His calloused fingers caress her flushed cheeks as he nibbles her lower lip, not so hard to hurt, but enough for Y/N to feel it. Now it's her turn to let out a small, barely audible moan, which makes him break out into a shit-eating grin.
The girl gently pulls away, while George still holds her face in his warm hands.
"I love you too, Georgie. And your damn perfect hair and damn marvelous eyes"
Bonus:
He lets out a giggle caused by quoting. He's unable to open his eyes for a few moments after this kiss, a huge smile on his face
"But…"
"But…?" The question sounds teasing even though his voice is hoarse.
"We have an essay to finish. It's due tomorrow, and you haven't even written a sentence yet." she wrinkles her nose in a taunting way.
"Nooooo" Redhead lets out a groan, throwing his head back. "Don't make me do this, Flower"
"I won't write it for you" She kisses his pouty lips as a response to the puppy gaze he gave her. Y/N frees herself from his cozy grip and heads towards the library. "You'd better write at least something unless you prefer scrubbing cauldron instead of…let's say…sneaking into Hogsmeade."
George catches up with her a couple of seconds later. He slightly leans down just for a moment to catch her hand in his and intertwine their fingers.
"Y/N…." he tries this 'puppy gaze trick' again.
"Fine." She sighs in defeat "I will help you with a plan and theses, but you will write it yourself."
George breaks into a smile once again and brings her hand to his lips, leaving kisses on her knuckles. Well, the thesis for Someone's Third Law is at least something. Plus, he’s sure that he’s sure Y/N will write his essay as soon as she finishes hers. And, to be honest, Fred's too.
After some time, when they are a meter from the huge wooden door, George suddenly wonders.
"Galleons or Sickles?"
"What?"
"Galleons or Sickles?" He repeats, opening the door in front of Y/N
"Wait, you're wondering how much they bet on us, aren't you?"
George overtakes the girl, ending up in front of her, and leans down so that their eyes are at the same level. He shoves his hands into pockets and wrinkles his nose therefore mocking Y/N's previous actions.
"I'll bet a Galleon that Lee owes Fred a Galleon"
masterpost
#george weasley#george weasley x reader#george weasley headcanon#george weasley fanfiction#george weasley smut#george weasley x fem#george weasley x slytherin!reader#george weasley x you#george weasley x y/n#george weasley fluff#george weasley fic#george weasley angst#the weasley twins#weasley twins#weasley twins x reader#weasley twins smut#harry potter fanfiction
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Where is that child now, I wonder?
Just some Gale angst I felt I needed to write. Maybe a TW (abusive parent)
He'd always been a sensitive child, the one so easy to trust the other kids, the one to do as they said, only to find himself in trouble later. Don't cry is what his father had always demanded of him when he skinned his knees or felt alone during the evenings.
He sat outside on the cold stone steps, trying to ignore the yelling from behind the oak door, the accusations being thrown between his two parents. Again, he was the centre of the discussion; his mother trying to protect him, his father saying she had coddled him too much. At the age of eight, they didn't think he understood, but with struggle came wisdom.
No wonder he didn't fit in with his peers. It wasn't just the magic that was the problem; it was the home life he came with too. How many parents would let a kid come to theirs after having met someone like his father? The old-fashioned soldier, with the militaristic views. "Children should be seen and not heard. Stand up straight. Apologise for what you did, what you said, for your existence. You'll never be good enough. You have such potential. Why can't you just…?" Eight years of put downs and loneliness.
He twirled the dancing lights in his hand, trying to draw his mind away from their voices. One argument had been about his lack of interest in combat training. All the other boys could wield a sword, so why couldn't he? Another had been about his love of books. "No! I won't let my son read poetry and become like a delicate flowered prick of an elf. Weak, pathetic! No, he will do as I say and do it when I tell him to!"
Today's argument was about the rosebush. He'd panicked as the older boys had shouted at him. They had started heckling him to see simple spells; first, little cantrips, but then it had been demands for things more interesting. "Go on, let's see the fire one. We know you can do it, freak." Demands turned to pulling at his clothing, a bruise to his arm, a panic in his chest he had only felt when his father had taken off his belt. He hadn't realised what had happened until only the crackling of embers could be heard and the red roses had turned to ash.
Now his mother was protecting him again, saying it was just an accident, only for his father to shout what the real accident was. He fought back the tears as he had been ordered to, trying to be a good son, trying to be good enough for his father. He didn't notice as the warm arm wrapped around his shoulder, as the elderly voice tried to soothe him. He didn't even feel the tears as they dampened the cotton robes he'd buried his face in, a comfort from an unlikely source, a shield from the face of his father as he walked out of his life. Gale Dekarios, son to a single mother, friend to no one, chosen of Mystra.
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Cowboy!reader Masterlist
Because apparently y’all love this lol (see- see what I did there? Y’all)
I'm trying to put these in a rough order as I go in the fic universe to try and make it easier to read aha
Edith
Description: cowboy has an elderly neighbour (this is literally just cowboy and his neighbour, in my head set before he joins the BAU)
Warnings: none
Interestin'
Description: Cowboy reader is new to the team and is feeling unheard.
Warnings: bad government knowledge on Atlas' part, I did try to google it but idk guys, trying my best here. Oh, also, stress eating.
I Understand
Description: directly follows from 'interestin'', cowboy reader talks down a teenage unsub.
Warnings: guns, hostage negotiations, untrusting team
Lies
Description: Directly follows 'I Understand', Hotch accuses cowboy reader of lying to the teen unsub.
Warnings:
The Post That Started It All
Description:
Warnings: gunshot wound.
Baking and House Plants
Description:
Warnings: briefly mentions anxiety.
Poetry
Description: Cowboy and Spencer talk about reading
Warnings: the only thing I can think of is that reader suggests to spencer to read the warnings of a book reader likes
Allergies (Not Really)
Description:
Warnings: transphobia, sad reader, guns, bullet wound, fighting, briefly mentions some murders to set the scene a bit, someone calls reader a redneck.
More (Not) Allergies
Description: Allergies (Not Really) Part 2
Warnings: minor sad reader.
Flirting, reckless driving, I didn't mean to hit you I promise
Description:
Warnings: minor car accident, unsub is not a nice man, brief mentions of killings/murders.
Mama's Boy
Description: (Follow up from Flirting, reckless driving, I didn't mean to hit you I promise)
Warnings: Brief mentions of murder and kidnapping (super brief), a man tries to intimidate a woman, that’s about it. Oh, some swearing.
Pretty As A picture
Description:
Warnings: a shelter?
Gay Panic
Description:
Warnings: gay panic, some unsavoury thoughts - like one
Gay Panic Part 2
Description:
Warnings:
Darla
Description:
Warnings: n/a
Tattoos
Description:
Warnings: n/a
Mermaids and Unicorns
Description:
Warnings: n/a
Protector
Description: a guy hits on JJ at a bar and cowboy reader is not happy about it. Set before they confess their feelings, they're still "friends" here.
Warning: unwanted touching (arm around the shoulder), and guy tries to kiss JJ (when she doesn't want it)
Sleepover
Description: JJ thinks cowboy looks huggable.
Warnings: none
Sunflower Seeds
Description:
Warnings: Death, sadness, abuse, bad foster parents, death of a child, murderous foster parents. Word count: 2403
Quit
Description:
Warnings: Smoking, addiction (smoking)
The Art of Actually Quitting
Description: JJ helps cowboy tackle his smoking addiction.
Warnings: Addiction, reader snaps
I'm Sorry, I Promise, Have Some Flowers
Description:
Warnings:
My Bio Daddy
Description: Not sexy times I swear. Cowboy reader's father visits, things don't go too well...
Warnings: abuse, abusive parents, abduction, claustrophobia, judgy nurse, hospital visits, child abuse mentions
Farmers Tan
Description: just a little snippet of cowboy reader and the team really
Warnings: n/a
Southern Belle Ex
Description: the BAU run into an old friend of cowboy reader while near his home town
Warning: jealousy, mentions past smoking addiction, that's about it
Home
Description: Being close to home, the team finally get to meet reader's family. Things start out great and then... Not so much. Reader makes sure his younger brother knows that despite what their parents have said, he's still there for them.
Warning: homophobia, someone nearly says the f-slur twice (they don't say the whole thing, reader puts them in their place), mentions of going to conversion therapy, pro-conversion therapy views, being kicked out because of sexuality, unaccepting parents, unaccepting sibling (Jason's a bit of a dick and I stand by that). I think that's everything.
Outlaws
Description:
Warnings: None
I was worried
Description:
Warnings: Blood, guns, gun shot wound, passing out, hospitals, some swear words
Sleepless
Description: cowboy reader can't sleep :(
Warnings: can't sleep (idk if it's insomnia tho), very tired reader, I think that's all
Birthday
Description:
Warnings: implications of claustrophobia, it's his first birthday party so he's a bit overwhelmed bless him (I say over a fully grown man)
Sick
Description:
Warnings: illness, mentions throwing up (no actual throwing up), cold/flu, mentions high temperature, reader feels rough, yeah
Dates
Description:
Warnings:
Crazy Ex Girlfriend
Description: Dana, an old 'friend' of reader turns up at his work place and decides to make a scene.
Warnings: reader gets slapped, crazy ex girlfriend, she insults JJ, she calls her a sl^t and wh0re, she also tells reader to 'burn in h3ll'
Rain and Thunder
Description: It's raining, and reader can't help but feel connected with the earth. Ever the romantic, this particular type of weather leads to more discussions of feelings. Takes place quite some time after 'Sick' and 'Dates' but you guys dont know about dates yet. I've not written it yet but it happens before this.
Warnings: rain, thunder, lightning, that's it this one is happy feelings, bit cliche but ya know I enjoyed writing it aha
TikTok
Description: Cowboy reader tries tiktok
Warnings: None
(No) Self-Preservation
Description: scar reveal.
Warnings: scars, abusive backstory.
Promise
Description: JJ and Cowboy hit a rough patch, the song is promise by Laufey (just in case you can't see it, Tumblr's being annoying for me)
Warnings: sadness :'), smoking
Like A ______
Description:
Warnings:
Save A Horse
Description:
Warnings:
Allergy Reunion
Description: Mia and reader reunite, chaos ensues.
Warnings: gun shots, unsubs go to the school, guns, schools targeted, criminal minds levels of violence (maybe even on the slightly tamer side).
taglist under the cut
Taglist: @xweirdo101x @xdark-acadamiax @ara-a-bird @heidss @chubbyboyinflannel @pendragon-writes @migwayne @bigolgay @technikerin23 @supercriminalbean @honestlycasualarcade @caffeine-mess @1s3v3n1 @oddmiles @kevyeen @stealing-kneecaps @criminalskies @woodandwaxwings @wizardmon3 @aphroditeslovr @ducks118 @azeal-peal @13thdoctor-run @introvertpan84 @goth-boi-atlas @iliketozoneout @chaosofmanyfandoms @logicalhorror @luvfornick @prmsn-17
@xweirdo101x @xdark-acadamiax @ara-a-bird @heidss @chubbyboyinflannel @pendragon-writes @migwayne @bigolgay @technikerin23 @supercriminalbean @honestlycasualarcade @caffeine-mess @1s3v3n1 @oddmiles @kevyeen @stealing-kneecaps @criminalskies @woodandwaxwings @wizardmon3 @aphroditeslovr @ducks118 @azeal-peal @13thdoctor-run @introvertpan84 @goth-boi-atlas @iliketozoneout @chaosofmanyfandoms @logicalhorror @luvfornick @prmsn-17 @pinxeajin
I might have missed some people out - I'm very sorry if I have, also please let me know either in my inbox, on here, or message if you wanna be added to the taglist :)
#bau x cowboy reader#bau x reader#bau x male reader#bau#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fanficiton#criminal minds fanfiction#aaron hotchner#derek morgan#spencer reid#emily prentiss#david rossi#jennifer jareau#cowboy reader#male reader#x male reader
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— 1D Monthly Fic Roundup —
Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for May 2024! Below you’ll find 1D fics that were all published this month. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup. You can find all our other posts here.
Happy reading!
＊ Ocean Wave Blues by babyhoneyhslt / @babyhoneyheslt [M, 49k, Louis/Harry]
After the gruesome death of his Alpha, Harry takes over as the Captain of the Rose Arrow. Trying his best to uphold her reputation as being the most dreadful pirate ship to sail the Seven Seas.
With the help of his alpha-quartermaster Niall, he manages to keep his secondary gender hidden from everyone except his most trusted crew, as he operates under his late Alpha’s name. Captain Payne.
Everything changes when his ship is taken hostage by Pirate Captain Louis.
To keep his crew, and himself, alive, Harry must play the part of dutiful Omega who’s waiting for his Alpha’s return.
＊ You Put the Boom Boom Into My Heart by @kingsofeverything [T, 5k, Harry/Louis]
Harry's been trying all summer to come up with a way to show Louis how much he means to him before he leaves for college.
Or five times Harry fails to win Wham! tickets and one time he succeeds.
＊ Into the Woods by @kingsofeverything [E, 2k, Louis/Harry]
Whenever he hikes, Harry keeps an eye out for trees with knots and scars that resemble buttholes. What started as fodder for his silly little Instagram account has become his favorite way to masturbate.
＊ A Book in the Ruins by magpielivingforglitter / @builtyouahousefromabrokenhome [M, 10k, Harry/Louis]
Harry randomly meets Louis, they eat food and read poetry, and it’s the zombie apocalypse.
＊ now i'm tracin' all my steps to you by @alwaysxlarrie [T, 5k, Louis/Harry]
Of all the things Harry was prepared for this summer, Louis Tomlinson and his wonderful, wonderful scent isn't one of them. It probably shouldn't be as shocking as it is that it makes Harry want to nest. There's only one slight problem -- Harry and nesting aren't exactly on familiar terms. At all.
This does not stop Harry from borrowing ("borrowing") Louis' things all throughout summer, though. Oops?
＊ just a couple of my cravings by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf [G, 3k, Harry/Louis]
Summer's just around the corner and Louis' battling his addictions... Cigarettes and Harry Styles.
＊ better latte than never by @disgruntledkittenface [M, 1k, Zayn/Harry]
Harry was looking forward to the coffee cart at work. Until the subject of the previous night's fantasies lined up next to him.
＊ I Like to Watch by larry_hiatus / @larry-hiatus [E, 9k, Louis/Harry, Louis/Zayn]
If there’s one thing Harry loves, it’s watching his husband Louis get fucked by other men. After picking up a lad called Zayn who is baffled by this concept, the three men are in for a wild night.
＊ Hope by @hellolovers13 [T, 2k, no pairing, Louis, Harry]
A father's desperate journey against time.
＊ On Love's Doorstep by @hellolovers13 [T, 1k, Harry/Louis]
Harry Styles: a day in the life
☑ Stuck in a dress
☑ Abandoned by his best friend
☑ Date with hot neighbour
All in all, not the worst day ever
＊ the very last drops of an ink pen by staybeautiful / @harruandlou [E, 47k, Louis/Harry]
The spoon made a hissing sound on the rim of his cup before he put it on his napkin. Sharp eyes met Harry’s over the table and Louis said, “So, we have a lot to talk about then.”
“How do you mean?” Harry blew on the foam at the top of his latte and let the heat of it warm his hands. Anxious energy curled down his arms as he waited for Louis to speak.
“Well, what are we doing about the business?” Louis picked up his mug and with his mouth against the lip of it, added, “Or are you going to leave that too?”
Against his will, his cheeks flushed in annoyance and Harry snapped, “Of course I fucking won’t.”
Or just after midnight on Harry's 30th birthday, he realizes he can't do another year without change. So, he forces it. Breaking up with Louis might have hurt less if they weren't co-owners of Studio 28, living within walking distance of each other, and if he wasn't the thing Harry was most afraid of losing. Secluding themselves on their shared estate in an attempt to save their working relationship may shed a light on where everything else started going wrong. And perhaps give them a chance to fix it.
＊ don't be afraid to love (and love again) by localopa / @voulezloux [E, 83k, Louis/Harry]
All Louis’ life, he’s known he’s been different. There’s always been something at odds about how he felt.
As the eldest daughter of seven kids, he knew something was wrong with his body. Something was off, he just couldn’t quite put his finger on it. His mum dressed him in dresses and tights, plaits in his hair as he wandered around with the local neighborhood boys. They called him a girl, called him she and Rosemary when his name is Louis. He had told the boys as such, but they would tell him Louis is a boy’s name, not a girl’s.
Louis is a boy. He knows he is.
or the one where louis is trans and afraid, harry is cis and brave, and being 100% yourself is easier said than done.
＊ Pacify Her by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright [E, 2k, Harry/Louis]
Harry's anxiety is acting up. Louis has the only thing that will soothe her.
OR Louis' pussy is the ultimate pacifier.
＊ this brokenness inside me might start healing by LiveLaughLoveLarry / @loveislarryislove [T, 29k, Louis/Harry]
Louis grew up in a tiny town, where everyone knew everyone -- or at least, they think they do. Then he left, and became a successful singer-songwriter, a star that everyone in the country knows -- or at least, they think they do.
But when Louis returns home for the birth of his first nibling, he meets a librarian who doesn't know him at all. And that's all Louis could ask for.
“I remember when you were a teenager," Miss Susan says, "telling me all the things you wanted to accomplish, the places you wanted to go. And I’ve seen a lot of kids, with a lot of big dreams – but you were different. You had this… quiet energy, this determined certainty. When you told me all you were going to do, I believed you.” She smiles, spreading her arms. “And now here you are.”
Here he is indeed, Louis thinks bitterly. Back where he started. His dreams on pause, his future uncertain. His whole identity built out of secrets and half-truths, while everyone thinks they know exactly who he is.
He left to find himself, he came home to find himself, and yet – here he is, feeling more lost than ever before.
＊ Rewriting the Melody by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13 [T, 26k, Harry/Louis]
Louis doesn’t get put in One Direction. This time, the path to true love takes the long way round, including singing in toilet cubicles, fruit baskets, and long distance band counselling from someone who really doesn’t know what he’s doing, he just wants to keep talking to Harry.
＊ warmth within your arms by @hsburnr [M, 1k, Louis/Harry]
when it's get too much to bear and nothing makes sense, harry seeks comfort from louis.
one shot, hurt/comfort au.
- Fic Fests -
＊ 1D Dystopian Fic Fest / @1ddystopianfest / masterpost
“Telling a story in a futuristic world gives you this freedom to explore things that bother you in contemporary times.” ~ Suzanne Collins
- Podfics -
＊ [podfic] Season 3, Episode 4: Timeless [a fic by babyhoneyhslt] by podfic_pals / @podfic-pals [G, Louis/Harry]
After visiting an antiques shop, Harry gets transported through time, and discovers that he and Louis are Timeless.
Based on Taylor Swift's Timeless.
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Which books would the Hallowoods characters read?
Happy HFTH season 4 day! I'm so excited for the new episodes, and I want to celebrate by recommending some books I think some of the main characters would love.
Diggory Graves - Unwieldy Creatures
I have a feeling that Diggory might be interested in a nonbinary Frankenstein retelling...
Percy Reed - The Spirit Bares Its Teeth
A transmasc protagonist, ghosts, a t4t love story - Percy would relate to this book so much.
Nikignik - This Is How You Lose the Time War
Even aside from the whole Bigolas Dickolas thing, I think Nikignik would really love this book. It's an epic, complicated, super emotional love story, written in a way that almost feels like poetry - I have a feeling that Nikignik would like that.
Lady Ethel Mallory - Lady Susan
It's short, it's funny, it's a classic, it's from the perspective of the villain and said villain uses the title "lady"? Lady Ethel would love this book.
Riot Maidstone - Gideon the Ninth
It's about a butch lesbian with a sword. That alone would probably convince Riot to read it, but I think she would love the story, too.
Olivier Song - Infinity Alchemist
This book is about an alchemist who is rejected by the magic school he tried so hard to get into, and one of the love interests is genderfluid - Olivier might relate to it a little too much.
Clara Martin - The Grimoire of Grave Fates
It's a murder mystery set at a magic school that moves around the world, and it's told from 18 (!) different perspectives. I think Clara would love reading about all these different types of magic and trying to solve the mystery.
Polly - Good Omens
Polly reminds me so much of Crowley sometimes - to quote this post, they're both "demons sent on a celestial audit of earth and catching more feelings than they signed up for" - so Polly would probably either love or hate Good Omens, no in-between.
Yaretzi - The Salt Grows Heavy
I can't really explain why I think Yaretzi would like this book, but she would. Something about the main character being a murderous mermaid, probably.
Mort - All Systems Red
Mort would definitely want to be friends with Murderbot.
Hector Mendoza and Jonah Duckworth - Silver in the Wood
This is my go-to "Read this if you like Our Flag Means Death" book because the main characters remind me a lot of Stede and Ed, but the book also reminds me so much of Hector and Jonah, especially with the magical sentient forest setting.
Zelda Duckworth - The Remarkable Retirement of Edna Fisher
This book is about a 83-year-old Chosen One who has to save the world armed with nothing but gumption and knitting needles - I think Zelda would enjoy that.
Mx. Morrell - What Moves the Dead
I think a fungal horror book with a nonbinary protagonist would be perfect for Mx. Morrell.
Danielle O'Hara - Pet
Pet is about a trans girl who has to reconsider everything she's been taught and save her friend with the help of a terrifying creature - everyone should read this book, but I think Danielle would especially like it.
Book titles:
Diggory Graves: Unwieldy Creatures by Addie Tsai
Percy Reed: The Spirit Bares Its Teeth by Andrew Joseph White
Nikignik: This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone
Lady Ethel Mallory: Lady Susan by Jane Austen
Riot Maidstone: Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir
Olivier Song: Infinity Alchemist by Kacen Callender
Clara Martin: The Grimoire of Grave Fates, edited by Hanna Alkaf and Margaret Owen
Polly: Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman
Yaretzi: The Salt Grows Heavy by Cassandra Khaw
Mort: All Systems Red by Martha Wells
Hector Mendoza and Jonah Duckworth: Silver in the Wood by Emily Tesh
Zelda Duckworth: The Remarkable Retirement of Edna Fisher by E.M. Anderson
Mx. Morrell: What Moves the Dead by T. Kingfisher
Danielle O'Hara: Pet by Akwaeke Emezi
#hello from the hallowoods#hfth#unwieldy creatures#the spirit bares its teeth#this is how you lose the time war#lady susan#gideon the ninth#infinity alchemist#the grimoire of grave fates#good omens#the salt grows heavy#all systems red#silver in the wood#the remarkable retirement of edna fisher#what moves the dead#pet#long post#booklr#bookblr#book recs
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In your expert opinion, do you think there’s any deeper reading to interpret from Geralt’s rebound with Essi, and traits she shares with Dandelion? (I know it wasn’t authorial intention in the least, but when he kissed her within 10 minutes of meeting, I got a “she’s a lot like Dandelion, surely she’s safe to embarrass myself with” vibe).
Hi Nonny!
Essi and Dandelion, Poets and Parallels, Ballads and Broken Hearts
Thank you for the ask! I'm on my lunch break from work, but I'm so happy to be answering Witcher book questions again that I'm sneaking off to do this.
Essi is such an interesting character, right? On one hand, she seems to be treated as the 'anti-Yen" by the narrative and the thing that Geralt 'should' want, thereby reinforcing his love for Yen when he *doesn't* fall in love with Essi.
But then there are all the curious parallels and similarities with Dandelion, which also makes it fun to analyze in that way. The list of similarities is long: their profession, personality, looks, their level of talent, and my favorite, their readiness to throw hands on behalf of Geralt of Rivia. And then there is The Ballad.
Ok. I'm going to set authorial intent aside for the moment, because writers write things all the time they don't intend to write. And I think any artist worth their salt should be thrilled that their work is layered and interesting enough to inspire differing interpretations.
That being said, let's get to the fun part.
SPOILERS SPOILERS FOR ESSI'S STORY PLS DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED.
Profession, personality
Let's look at Essi's introduction! She enters the scene acting just like Dandelion. Both poets are mercilessly insulting one another in their fake-genteel way. (Lots of shade, as well as out and out insults)
Geralt is taken aback, thinking they are fighting, but then they fall on one another embracing and he's like...oh lordt. There's two of them.
"The Witcher was taken aback, but not too greatly. A professional colleague of Dandelion's could not, indeed, differ much from him in terms of predictability."
--Sword of Destiny pg 195
So we have profession, and personality being very similar. Bards with sharp tongues and ready emotions. Then we have looks!
Looks.
I've done a post on Dandelion's looks here. And Essi is similar! Blonde hair, blue eyes, and beautiful. Same same. Sorry, her eyes are a dark blue whereas Dandelion's are cornflower. Much different so contrast.
Level of talent.
They are both beloved and famous. When Ciri is studying at Nenneke's temple, she has access to both of their books of poetry.
[Ciri] read The Adversities of Loving and Time of the Moon, collections of poems by the famous troubadour Dandelion. She shed tears over the ballads of Essi Daven, subtle, infused with mystery, and collected in a small, beautifully bound volume entitled The Blue Pearl.
--Blood of Elves pg 298
And Geralt adores both of their voices. When Essi and Dandelion are singing together, Geralt thinks to himself that they have the most beautiful voices that he has ever heard.
They Stay Ready to Throw Hands for Geralt of Rivia.
The text even classifies Essi and Dandelion together on this. And as I said, it's my favorite part of her character, and not just because I love Geralt. It shows her strength, her strong sense of self, her courage, and her values.
First, she, much in the way that Dandelion does, uses her fame, connections, and higher social standing to protect Geralt. And she throws Dandelion into the mix for good measure to strengthen her threats. So when Duke Agloval threatens to drive Geralt to the border with a whip. Essi reponds.
"...please dont threaten Geralt. It so happens that Dandelion and I have several friends...King Ethain of Cidaris...always says that our ballads aren't just lively music and rhymes, but a way of spreading news...Do you wish, your Grace, to be written into the chronicle of human kind? I can arrange it?"
--Sword of Destiny pg 212
And when Geralt turns down Agloval's 'offer' of permanent work killing sea creatures in a permanent war with them, (keeping in mind that the noble has stiffed Geralt twice on payment so far) Agloval invokes Geralt's poverty in a demeaning way.
"Oh how proud," Agloval smiled. "How haughty. You reject offers in a way some kings wouldn't be ashamed of. You give up decent money with the air of a wealthy man after a lavish dinner. Geralt? Did you have lunch today? No? And tomorrow? And the day after? I see little chance, Witcher, very little..."
It is so infuriating. Agloval is saying...who the fuck do you think you are? Someone important? Someone with status?? Someone who is allowed to decide his own ethics for himself?
This is a constant theme. The...know your place. Stop trying to think for yourself. Ethics look stupid on you, because you aren't 'real' enough of a human being to have them. So it is super satisfying when Essi lets loose on him.
"How dare you!" Little Eye cried shrilly. "How dare you speak like that to him Agloval!...How can you be so base?"...
Geralt tries to stop her. He sees little point.
"Stop it Essi," Geralt said. "Stop, Essi, there's no point."
"Not true," she said angrily. "These is a point. Someone has to tell it straight to this self-appointed duke....who now thinks he has the right to insult other people."
And she isn't done.
"Yes, Agloval, " Essi continued, clenching her shaking hands into fists. "The opportunity to insult other people amuses and pleases you. You delight in the contempt you can show the Witcher...you should know that the Witcher mocks your attempts and slights., that they do not make the faintest impression on him..."
Then we bring Dandelion back in. Because guess who also feels anger and revulsion when Geralt is treated so contemptuously? Let Essi say it...
"The Witcher doesn't feel what Dandelion and I feel, and we feel revulsion."
Sword of Destiny pg 237
That's like...not even half of her unloading on this guy. She is like...you are worth less than Geralt, so jot that down.
Now..
The Ballad
Here is why the ballad matters to me. I think that perhaps even more interesting than how Geralt responds to Essi (interesting though it is) is how Dandelion responds to Essi. Why does he think someone who is almost exactly like him is perfect for Geralt? I mean, he sees himself in her so much that he thinks of her as his sister.
He loves her more than Geralt does I think that is clear. Geralt cares deeply about her. But to Dandelion, she is like his family.
He is put in a shitty position of seeing her distraught and anguished about her feelings for Geralt and Geralt afraid of leading her on or hurting her. Geralt and Essi go back and forth, making it insufferable for Dandelion as a third wheel.
I talked about it here here and here.
Dandelion's response is the subject of controversy in fandom, and there are many valid and differing reader responses. But it seems clear that Dandelion has come to terms with the fact that Geralt and Essi will not be together in love, despite his advice to Geralt. So he suggests they just fuck to get it out of their systems and then everything will be ok. (that's his solution to most things)
So, if he is at ease with that, why the ballad? At the end of the story, Dandelion composes a ballad while Essi and Geralt sleep.
Dandelion, staring into the dying embers, sat much longer, alone, quietly strumming his lute.
It began with a few bars, from which an elegant, soothing melody emerged. The lyric suited the melody, and came into being simultaneously with it, the words blending into the music, becoming set in it like insects in translucent, golden lumps of amber.
The ballad told of a certain witcher and a certain poet. About how the witcher and the poet met on the seashore, among the crying of seagulls, and how they fell in love at first sight. About how beautiful and powerful was their love. About how nothing - not even death - was able to destroy that love and part them.
Sword of Destiny pg 246
Why this romantic song?? About a witcher and poet?
Yes, it could be just for the ballad, for a successful song. The text talks about the real story not being a good one for a ballad.
But there is so much emotion and magic in that scene. What is he thinking? What is he feeling?
Of course you know about what happens next, Essi's heartbreaking end, and Dandelion's crushing grief. She dies of smallpox during an epidemic. Dandelion is there. Did he go as soon as he heard? Was he visiting her expecting some lovely evenings singing around a fire and found her dead?
However it happened, Dandelion does not leave her to die alone. He does not turn tail and leave, avoiding smallpox. He literally carries the cold dead corpse of this woman he loves, who he sees as his sister, in his arms...
...Dandelion had carried her out in his arms between corpses being cremated on funeral pyres and had buried her far from the city, in the forest, alone and peaceful...
He buries her alone with his own hands! Oh how his heart must have shattered. It is moments like that, that you see the deeper, kinder, even (dare I say) noble side of the vain, braggadocios, whorish bard.
It goes on to say that Dandelion could have changed the song at any point to be a true version (the one where Essi dies), but he never did.
No, Dandelion stuck with his first version. And he never sang it. Never. To no one.
Sword of Destiny p 246
Yeah.
To me there is a story about a young girl who cares enough for ten people, who has a huge heart, and a deep soul. A fearless girl who feels things too big for her to handle for a man others call a monster. A girl whose voice is like an angel.
And then there is a story about a broken hearted poet who loved her (far more than Geralt did) and who wrote a song about a witcher and a poet and he never changed the words and never sang it to anyone.
And I wonder if he wasn't writing that ballad about a witcher and a different poet entirely.
*sob*
#the witcher#geralt of rivia#dandelion#geraskier#jaskier#gerlion#essi daven#the witcher books#thinking about the witcher books yet again#thinking about dandelion yet again
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💫Drabble Challenge💫
~Unbelievable~
By @marked-unknown
Pairing: Han x Reader
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers
Warnings: Fluff, Comfort, Angst, Sexualising, Mentions of Sex, Swearing
Word Count: 5.8k
Note: I know it’s cheesy and cliché but I couldn’t help myself. Would love to be forced into a long bus drive with Han. ^^
Join my <Challenge>
„He reminds me of this annoying (but very charming) kid in a bus that tries to make you laugh when all you want to do is listen to your sad, depressing emo songs, pretend like you are in a sad music video and read your book (like Picture of Dorian Gray or some french poetry). You are stuck in that bus for couple of hours and there he is - making jokes, giving you snacks, making stupid faces, asking you to read the book out loud for him and so on, until he succeeds and you laugh and talk to him.“
"This seat is taken!" you snapped at the young man with the light hazelnut hair and unnaturally cute face who was about to push aside your bag on the seat next to you. Almost in a panic, you had your arm pressed down on the pile and were glaring at him in warning.
"Really? I don't see anyone here..." he replied dryly, sliding the headphones off his ears so they were around his neck.
You were getting angry again just looking at him. Han Jisung was the most annoying person on the planet, and after a day like this, exactly the last thing you needed.
"Just sit somewhere else!" you hissed at him and he just snorted and dropped onto the pair of seats in front of you where he put his backpack down, only to turn back to you and continue to annoy you, even though all you wanted was your peace and a quiet bus ride to feel sorry for yourself.
The day was already shitty enough, you didn't need his help to make things worse. In fact he did already enough.
"Are you mad about the suitcase? I didn't do it on purpose," he started a conversation with you again, while you pointedly pulled out your airpods and put one in your ear to finally block out his voice.
„It is your own fault. You should have just let me help but you're always so stubborn..."
You sighed in annoyance and put the other headphone in your ear as well. Then you picked a song on your phone. Han finally turned back to the front, apparently having finally realized that you weren't in the mood to talk to him. You looked out of the bus window and watched the other passengers who loaded their suitcases into the bus and also looked for seats. It was already noon, although the bus should start early at 10. Everything was running late and you could only hope to arrive at the hotel in time to try on your dress and prepare for the bachelor party. Otherwise you wouldn't get much sleep tonight. Your best friend was getting married tomorrow and you were the main bridesmaid in charge of planning the party. However, it all took place at a resort by the sea and the bus ride there took several hours. She didn't tell you until the last second that Jisung, her annoying big brother, would also be traveling with you. She knew exactly that you didn't get along very well. When he stood on the platform and waved to you, you would have liked to throw your suitcase right onto the road and yourself right after. Your nerves were already strained and a bus ride of several hours with Jisung sounded like hell. However, this was for your best friend and so you had swallowed your frustration and had been silently putting your suitcase away when he suddenly grabbed it. You ripped it back and had looked at him uncomprehendingly.
"For God's sake let go of the suitcase Jisung!"
"Let me help you," he said, and what should have been a friendly gesture, today made you go full crazy.
"I can do this by myself! Hands off!"
You tried to snatch the suitcase out of his hands again, but he was just as stubborn as you and always trying to tease you to the edge of bursting. Another reason why you probably had friction again and again. He continued to hold the suitcase, trying to pry it out of your hands.
"Just give it to me! Don't be like that!"
By now you were being eyed by the other passengers and the conversations around you died down as you fought like wild dogs over the suitcase, like the last bit of meat.
"Fucking let go you idiot!" you shouted, shoving the suitcase at him with a jerk so that it slammed against his chest. You're face was already glowing with embarrassment.
"I'm just trying to be nice, you ungrateful crumb!" he grumbled back, and as you both ripped at the suitcase at the same time, the clasp snapped and the zipper ripped open with a loud rattling sound. In a whirl of chaos and colorful fabric, the entire contents of your suitcase spilled out onto the dirty floor and you froze, stunned and on the verge of screaming out loud. Jisung's eyes were as big as plates, stammering something akin to an apology, while the other people around you began to murmur and whisper. You wanted to sink to the ground in shame, scream at Jisung or punch him in the face, but instead you just knelt down in a panic and tried to stuff your things back into the suitcase with your head buzzing. Because of the stress, you only noticed after a few seconds that Jisung was also kneeling next to you and collecting your things.
He didn't dare to say anything, until he held a red lace bra in his hands and actually pulled out the matching panties.
"Holy shit... What are you up to with these?" he asked with the more than erotic thong in his hand, which was basically all lace. He opened his mouth to say something stupid again, looking at you incredulously, but by then you were already ripping your underwear out of his hands and throwing them into the suitcase with the last pair of pants, and slammed it shut emphatically.
Without looking at him again, you had boarded the bus until he finally stood next to you again to get on your nerves.
As the bus began to move, you breathed a quiet sigh of relief and leaned your head against the window. While Lana Del Ray sang the sad melodies through your headphones and you watched the landscape go by, you tried to sink deeper and deeper into your melancholic mood. Because that's exactly what you needed right now. You had every right to gaze dreamily out the windows like in a movie and mourn over the crappy day.
"What are you listening to?"
Annoyed, you groaned as Jisung pushed his head between his two seats before you and eyed you curiously with his sparkling eyes. When you didn't answer, but stubbornly continued to look out the window so you wouldn't have to keep looking at that cute face, you felt his penetrating gaze continue on you.
"Aren't you going to talk to me? I asked you a question. Babe don't ignore me. You know that's useless..."
You tried to just tune him out, but this became more difficult with every second he stared through the seats with puffy cheeks and pouted lips, making you blush whyever. So you couldn't concentrate on the song, or your gloomy mood.
"Are you bored, Ji? Don't you have something better to do than annoy me?" you sighed, and the fact that you were finally talking to him he was clearly chalking up as a win.
"Actually, the battery in my headphones died... So I wanted to make a little conversation. And I'm bored."
You should have guessed.
Jisung has never been able to sit still except when he was asleep or listening to music. He always had to do something. Singing, dancing, or just talking nonsense. He had always been like that. Full of energy and charm. Never to be stopped and always with his head through the wall.
"Sounds like a personal problem. Then find someone else to annoy," you said, and he just grinned wryly.
"I only know you here though and you're always so cute when you're angry. Yes! Exactly like that, when you scrunch your nose like that!"
Quickly you averted your eyes, swallowed and tried to get rid of the rising heat from your cheeks. He was driving you increasingly insane. How you could endure five more hours with him was a mystery to you. Only an hour later, you were engrossed in your book. Jisung had fallen asleep. Thank God. Although the book was really good and you enjoyed the quiet moments, you kept catching yourself peeking between the seats and when you smiled at the sight of the dozing idiot, you quickly shook your head and averted your eyes again. He looked really cute when he was this quiet. His long eyelashes cast dark crescents on his cheeks and his plush lips were slightly pouted in sleep.
You tried to focus on the book again. It was a really sensual book. Full of romance, betrayal and a whole lot of eroticism. You were in your own world, the letters blurred into pictures before your eyes and you were completely absorbed in the story. Just as things were getting heated, you flinched violently as Jisung's voice suddenly tore through the film in your mind like a bolt of lightning and threw you back into reality. Suddenly you were back on the rattling bus full of strangers and your annoying companion.
"What are you reading?"
"A book. I know you probably don't know what that is," you replied a little meaner than you really wanted to. You didn't know yourself why you were projecting your anger and disappointment of the last days onto him, but he didn't really make it easy for you either.
Jisung tilted his head to read the title and the back of the book.
"You can read it to me..."
Suddenly he got wide-eyed and you already rolled your eyes, because you knew exactly what was coming now.
"Is this an erotic novel?" he exclaimed louder than necessary. The old couple in the seats next to you looked at you disturbed and the moment you embarrassedly looked around he used and snatched the book out of your hand. Much too late you jumped up and grabbed just the air. He stretched so that you couldn't reach him over the seats and read the page you had just been on.
"Give me that!" you hissed in panic, knowing exactly what he was reading. The scene was hot, violent, and in fact filthy porn.
"What the hell! This kind of things exist in books?", it escaped Jisung and he couldn't take his eyes off the page.
"Jisung! Please!" you pleaded, and by now you were bent over the back of the seat.
He looked at you, grinning at the desperation on your face. You were embarrassed and never wanted to look him in the eye again.
"Is that what you're into? With bondage and spanking?" he asked a little more softly, one eyebrow raised provocatively but he sounded genuinely interested.
"Shit, that's not funny..." you mumbled, and that's when he finally let you take the book out of his hands. As fast as you could you stowed it away in your bag. By now he was sitting turned around again in his seat right in front of you and had his arms crossed over the backrest.
"I remember when my sister and you were secretly watching 50 Shades of Grey and got caught. Your face was just as red then," he smirked, poking your cheek with his finger.
"Shut up!" you whispered, dejected by the shame. Quickly, you crossed your arms and looked out the window again. It was afternoon by now. In a few hours you would finally arrive and then you could avoid him. The rumbling in your stomach, while he continued to look at you with glittering eyes and without averting his gaze, became worse and worse. That's when he held out a bag of chips to you, but you declined, shaking your head.
"What's wrong?" he finally asked, causing you to look up. Seeing the genuine concern in his eyes, you frowned in confusion.
"Huh?" was the only thing you could get out. His face was so close to yours that you could see the golden speckles in the chocolate brown of his eyes. Even up close, he was unnervingly attractive.
"Why have you been in such a bad mood all day? You never turn down snacks. What happened?"
"I'm not," you replied quickly. Too quickly. You've always been lousy at lying and Jisung knew you too long to fall for it.
"Oh yeah, so you're always this mean?" he asked, resting his cheek on the back of his hand that was laying on the backrest.
His open curiosity without any condemnation, made you sigh. Why would you lie? You could tell him. Maybe he would laugh at you, but then at least you would have gotten it off your chest.
"I got stood up. I had a date yesterday and he didn't show up."
Han tapped his finger thoughtfully on the blue cushion.
"Maybe he had a good reason," he considered, and that he was trying to cheer you up made you smile.
"It was the third time..."
Directly he got big eyes and pulled his eyebrows together.
"Oh," he mumbled, not knowing what to say to that. Just like you. It was humiliating to wait a whole hour in that cafe just to get a curt message without a explanation. Again.
You looked down at your hands kneading them in your lap, lost in thought.
"I really thought this time it would work out... He was really nice and attentive at first. Turned out he just wanted to sleep with me. I'm so sick of men."
Jisung looked at you concerned and pressed his lips together.
"Yeah... Unfortunately, many men are really too stupid to realize what they're missing. Even if it's right in front of them."
When you looked at him, a bit confused, he averted his eyes and quickly looked out the window. There was a strange tension in the air that you found hard to describe. Like the smell that hung in the air after a thunderstorm.
It sounded like there was more to the words than Jisung wanted to admit, but you were probably just imagining it. Silently, you looked out the window as well, trying not to look in his direction too often, which was becoming increasingly difficult. You had never noticed how handsome he actually was. Friends of yours and his sister's had often said it, raved about Jisung and his charm, but you had always been immune to it. Probably because you grew up so close and he got on your nerves most of the time. But right now you felt this attraction that everyone always described.
You were pulled out of your thoughts when you stopped at the next stop and some people got off and others got on. An old lady stopped next to Jisung and pointed to the empty seat besides him and you. Her husband was right behind her.
"Excuse me, are the seats free?"
Jisung smiled his brightest smile directly and before you understood what he was about to do, he said:
"Of course. You can sit here together. I can just sit with my friend."
He gathered his things and came to you, but you just stared at him in bewilderment. Only when the lady and her husband took a seat and said:
"Thank you very much."
You reluctantly pulled your bag from the seat so he could sit down. Now he had made it after all and ignoring him was much harder when he was sitting right next to you.
"You're unbelievable..." you mumbled and he crossed his arms behind his head, leaning back and getting comfortable so his legs pressed against yours.
"I know. I'm amazing," he said with his eyes closed and a satisfied smile on his lips.
"That wasn't a compliment...", you replied, but he pretended not to hear it. Shaking your head, you had to force back a smile with all your might. Why did he make you laugh when you really wanted to be angry? So you put your headphones back in your ears and turned the volume up really loud. After a few minutes, he pressed his leg against yours, but you ignored it, trying to ignore the flattering in your chest, but he didn't stop and put a hand on your thigh to squeeze it. Since you were only wearing a skirt, you got goosebumps directly when you felt his warm hand closed directly around your bare skin. Questioningly you looked at him.
"Can I listen too?"
Directly you tried to look unimpressed, even though your heart was beating harder and harder against your ribs. From the moment he sat next to you, you smelled his scent, which had clouded your mind. He smelled like fresh soap, pungent aftershave, and even a bit of lavender. It wasn't fair that he was so perfect.
"No!" you said quickly. You didn't want him to make fun of your taste in music. Just as he was about to answer something, a message lit up on your display. You couldn't stop him from reading it, and your stomach hurt again when you saw the name of the asshole you thought had liked you.
„Sorry I couldn't make it. Want to come over tonight?“
Angrily you threw your head against the back of your seat and took a deep breath to keep from bursting into tears again.
"That asshole... I'm good enough to fuck," you said in agony, and Han looked at you silently for a few seconds before holding out his hand in demand.
"Give me that."
"Why?"
"Just trust me."
A little suspiciously, you frowned but then handed him your unlocked phone. What else did you have to lose?
That's when he opened the camera and set it to selfie mode. Then he held it up so you could both be seen. Directly he put an arm around you, pulled you to his chest until you were nestled against him. Completely perplexed you looked up at him and there he pressed the shutter. His touch made everything inside of you go muddled. You didn't even manage to form a sentence, especially when he didn't take his arm off you, but scrolled through the pictures he had taken with a smile. His fingers left a trail of heat on your ribs.
"What are you doing?" you asked meekly, completely confused by the fluttering feeling in your stomach. You looked cute in the pictures.... In fact, like a... Couple.
"That's not enough," he mused aloud, holding up his phone again to snap a selfie. Then he looked into your eyes so intensely it made your throat choke. He smelled so impossibly good that you almost buried your face in the crook of his neck.
"If we're going to get back at him, we are going to do it right, yea?"
His body was so warm and close and his lips just centimeters away from yours. Suddenly it was like there was no one but you on the bus. Perplexed, you looked up at him and his smile before he pulled your chin closer with his fingers, bridging the last distance, made your heart explode. It took you an eternity to realize his lips were on yours. He kissed you gently, carefully, but so lovingly that your entire body began to tingle. His lips were soft, tasting like chocolate. No better than chocolate. Before you could return the kiss, it was already over. Completely surprised, you could only stare. As if nothing had happened and it was the most normal thing in the world to kiss your sister's best friend, he scrolled through the pictures he had taken during the kiss and showed them to you.
"The picture is a bit blurry we should do it again..." he said with a teasing grin and finally you found your voice again. His eyes were glued to your lips and you gasped as he ran his thumb over your chin and you felt his breath bounce against your lips again, as he leaned forward again.
"Ji!" it escaped you and you pushed him back a little your hand against his chest to get some distance between you. You desperately needed your mind back and with him so close to you, that was impossible. So all you could think about was kissing him again. He made a funny face and dropped back into the seat, chuckling as he typed a message. Then he handed you the phone again and waited for your reaction when you saw the picture and read the message he sent in addition. The pic was hot... He seemed to be all over you, touching you greedy and heated. When you read the message und smiled softly.
„Sorry bro she's already busy. Should have treated her better...“
It was perfect. Thus the ass would realize that you didn't need him and didn't care about him at all. That you weren't a toy he could exploit for his pleasure whenever he wanted. Besides, Jisung also looked insanely hot in the picture holding you, his hair a mess and the tank top showing a bit of his trained figure.
"Thanks..." you said then, unable to suppress a grin of satisfaction. He smiled too and nudged you with his shoulder against yours.
"You're welcome. You shouldn't be hanging out with guys like that. They don't deserve you..." he said and took out his chips bag again, from which you took a whole handful and shoved it into your mouth. Suddenly everything didn't matter and your bad mood fizzled out. All thanks to Jisung.
"But with you or what?" you asked chewing and he watched you with raised eyebrows.
"Well, sure. I'm great! I can sing, play guitar, rap, and I'm gold at League of Legends. What more could you ask for?"
This time, you actually laughed. It was an honest, chuckling laugh, and Jisung beamed even more when he finally heard it again. Then you took the other earpiece of your headphones and silently held it out to him. His leg brushed yours and he pressed it firmly against yours as he took the earpiecee smiling and put it in his ear. You played some songs that he liked and so you ate snacks together, nodded to the music and he even put in a mini dance routine in between where you choked on a crumb from laughing so much, so he patted you on the back for minutes until the old couple even gave you a bottle of water. He told you about the bachelor party that was planned for the groom, his best friend, and you told him the plans for his sister's. Because your best friend was going to marry Jisung's best friend, he was the best man.
"Probably everyone expects us to sleep with each other..."
"What?" you asked a little too loudly.
Jisung just shrugged his shoulders.
"Isn't that a cliché? That groomsmen and bridesmaids sneak away to fuck at a wedding?"
"Even if that's the case... Then why would I... sleep with you?"
His smile was adorable and you were already staring at his lips again.
"Well... The other groomsmen are the groom's 50 year old uncle and his brother who is gay and married."
"Maybe I'm into older men," you said, putting on a serious face as you licked the remaining crumbs from your fingers and looking at him.
For a moment all color drained from his face, until you snorted and he understood that you had made a joke.
"Admit it already, you actually find me irresistible," he said and nudged you in the side with his elbow.
"In your dreams!" you said, and he pouted, playfully offended.
Amused, you looked at him and had to quickly avert your gaze, afraid he might read your traitorous thoughts in your eyes. He finally persuaded you to read along in your book, and he commented on every scene like a sports presenter, meanwhile trying again and again to figure out, confused, how everything described was even possible.
"In which position does all this happen? That's not possible!" he said, and you laughed so much that your stomach started to hurt.
It wasn't long before you fell asleep with your head on his shoulder and when he noticed that, he smiled warmly, took your headphones and cell phone from you to put them aside. Then he put his jacket around you so you wouldn't get cold and your dress wouldn't somehow ride up in your sleep. Unconsciously you snuggled up to him, as he leaned forward to put his jacket around your waist. Astonished, he froze for a moment, looking at you as you dozed off peacefully with your cheek against his chest, enjoying your touch and warmth. When he watched you like this, your body nestled close to his, he noticed how beautiful you were and how much he had enjoyed the last few hours. You're body just felt perfect against his und he had to force everything in him not to touch you. He had laughed more than in the last few months and right now he wanted to kiss you and hold you forever, but he didn't dare. Actually he had never dared to do that before today.
But he could look at you a little longer, enjoy your presence, until everything returned to normal. He didn't know how long he had been watching you and daydreaming, but when your eyelids fluttered and you seemed to slowly wake up, he panicked. He quickly closed his eyes, pretending he had been asleep the whole time.
Sighing, you rubbed your eyes and only when you yawned did you pause. With your heart pounding, you slowly glanced up to see how close you were nestled against Jisung. Fortunately, he was also asleep and didn't seem to notice. Carefully, your face burning with shame, you straightened up a bit. There you felt his arm around your body as it lay limp at your thigh. You tried to calm your breath. How had it come about that you had kissed Jisung and now you were sleeping cuddled together like a couple. As carefully as you could, you released your cheek from his chest, brushed a strand of hair from your face, and noticed the jacket on your legs. It was heavy, smelled pleasantly of him, and you had not put it there. Thoughtfully, you looked again at Jisung, who was sleeping peacefully. Then a thought occurred to you. It was brainless, naive and stupid, and yet everything in you wanted to cuddle up to him again.
After all, he had tucked you in and not woken you up to push you away from him. If you just lay back down, he would dismiss it as an accident, which it originally was. So you moved in slow motion so as not to wake him, as you nestled back into his arm, leaning your head against his chest and wrapping an arm around his stomach. He didn't wake up. Relieved, you relaxed and enjoyed his warmth. It was strange and completely surreal. Then why did you like it so much?
You listened to his heartbeat and breathing, and after a while you realized, confused, that it was faster than usual for a sleeping person. You looked up at him questioningly and when the corners of his mouth lifted, your heart stopped. With his hand wrapped around your body, he suddenly pulled you closer, ran his thumb over your hipbone, and smiled mischievously without opening his eyes. You almost choked on yourself. You felt caught, but he had also only pretended to be asleep. You decided you would have plenty of time to deal with it after, so you snuggled closer to him, closed your eyes, and couldn't help but grin.
When the bus finally reached its destination it was already afternoon, you startled up from your stupor and felt warm and cozy. You rubbed your eyes and broke away from Jisung with a furtive glance at him, who was yawning. The hotels lined the street and to the right and left was a green park with large trees leading towards the entrances of the hotels.
"We're here...", you mumbled and were almost even a little disappointed that the ride was actually over now and with it what had happened between you and Jisung. Whatever that was. You packed up your things and got off the bus. As you did so, you didn't dare look in his direction. The strange feeling in your stomach wouldn't go away and you just didn't understand what was going on with you.
When your suitcases were cleared out, Jisung got his backpack first.
"Do you want me to take your suitcase?" he asked as you heaved it onto the sidewalk.
"Don't you touch it!" you panicked, both of you laughing at the same time as your eyes met. Then you made your way through the park.
"Why did you only bring a backpack?" you finally asked to break the strange silence. The air was heated, smelled like flowers and warm asphalt. Your hotel and that of the bride and other bridesmaids were already looming in front of you at the end of the park. Jisung's was across the street so the bride and groom couldn't meet before the wedding.
"I don't need that much. Clothes I have on, food is there and I have my laptop with me," he said, smiling broadly at you.
"That's insane," you smirked and the closer you got to the hotel, the more restless you became.
"No practically," he replied and as you came to a stop in front of the hotel entrance, you looked at each other silently. Neither of you knew what to say. It was strange but not awkward. Everyone would go to their hotel and then everything was forgotten. Everything you felt, all the chaos and heart palpitations. He ran his fingers through his hair and stepped from one leg to the other.
"Well then see you at the wedding!"
You nodded quickly and your fingers tightened around the handle of your suitcase.
"See you then..." you mumbled. It felt wrong, unfinished and incomplete just to leave. Like you were missing something you'd never realized before. Like you ended the movie right beforehand the big finale. Still, you turned around after looking at his twinkling eyes one last time and he too started walking in the opposite direction. The tension in your chest made you barely breathe. You put one foot in front of the other, smoothed out your dress and tried to convince yourself that you had imagined everything. But that's when you heard behind you:
"Y/N?"
Questioning, you turned around and saw him drop his backpack on the floor and run towards you. You were about to ask if he had forgotten something when he reached you, cupped your face with both hands and almost swept you off your feet as he pressed his lips firmly to yours. Surprised, you staggered, but he held you tight and this time something exploded in your head, but you were too shocked to return the kiss. Instead, you had a thousand question marks in your head. Was this the right thing to do? And if not, why did it feel so incredibly good? Before you could find an answer to the thousand questions, he broke away from you and looked questioningly into your eyes. You could see how nervous he was and he waited excitedly for your reaction.
"I would have regretted it if I hadn't done that. I'm sorry," he murmured, looking at your face in his hands as if trying to memorize every detail one last time. You still tasted him on your lips and gradually you began to understand. Just as he was about to pull away, you grabbed his chest with both hands and clawed your fingers into his shirt. Roughly, you pulled him to you before you could change your mind and listened to your heart for the first time. You kissed him so passionately that both of your breaths stopped, but he didn't hesitate for a second to pull you to him, his hands firmly on your hips. The kiss was full of passion and the built up tension discharged into electrified energy between you. Your hands found their way into his hair, pulling lightly until he hummed softly and your lips met again and again until you felt dizzy. As he pulled you closer to his body, until barely a piece of paper could fit between you and you almost lost your footing, the kiss became more sensual, slower. He let his tongue slide over your lower lip until you opened your mouth a little more and your tongues met. It was a heady feeling and you couldn't believe how long you had been blind for your own feelings. That what you wanted all along, someone attentive, loving and kind, was all the time right in front of you.
When you finally broke away from each other breathing heavily, tightly embraced under the canopy of a large oak tree, your eyes just bubbled over with energy. You both began to grin and giggle. You couldn't believe what was happening to you.
"What are we going to do now?" you asked, smiling and pressing your forehead to his. His hands stroked your back, leaving a comforting tingle and your body melted into his as you clasped your hands in his neck.
"I have no idea... Just want to do this forever."
Again you laughed in disbelief and you shook your head barely noticeably.
"You really are unbelievable, Han Jisung," you murmured, and he tilted his head slightly and winked at you.
"Told you."
Directly you rolled your eyes, but couldn't resist pressing another kiss to his lips. For a moment he broke away from your lips to say:
"Let me take your suitcase to your room... I'll be careful this time, I promise."
You snorted softly and stroked your hands over his chest. You felt more comfortable than you had in ages. He looked at you as if you had hung the sun and moon in the sky yourself, and he made you feel like you were beaming with pure joy from the inside out. Wordlessly, you pressed your suitcase into his hand and whispered, your lips just a finger's width from his:
"Just for once."
Spellbound, he waited to feel your lips again, to taste you and never let go, but you took a few steps back and smiled cheekily over your shoulder as you ran up the stairs to the entrance. Somewhat clumsily, he collected his backpack and followed you into the lobby with your suitcase and the widest grin you had ever seen.
#stray kids#fanfic#fanfiction#skz#fluff#stray kids fanfiction#stray kids imagines#stray kids x reader#han jisung#skz han jisung#han jisung x reader#stray kids drabbles#drabble#skz han#skz fluff#skz fic#skz scenarios#skz fanfic#skz x reader#Sky Yuna#comfort#skz imagines#skz jisung#stray kids fic#stray kids x you#stray kids han#jisung imagines#drabble challenge#stray kids fluff#kpop
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Someone Unexpected
Summary: Kira (OC) and Jack met through mutual friends (Nolan Patrick and Nico Heiser) unexpectedly one summer. Feeling an instant connection, they decide to go on a date. Nerves take over as the two set out on what might be their first date of many. **This is a continuation of Kira & Jack from Summer Rituals, it might be helpful to check that out! *Kira's thoughts have been italicized.
Part of the HEART FIRST Series
Note: Thank you so much for all the love on Summer Rituals, I am super excited to continue Kira and Jack's story! All of your support means a lot to me! I have a lot planned with them, if you want to be tagged let me know.
Warnings: mentions of drinking, past relationships
Word Count: 6k
Life can be surreal sometimes with the way things fall into place. There is this saying about dating that I’ve always hated, ‘you’ll meet someone when you least expect it’. That saying has always set me off because it's never been true. I have spent my fair share of time alone and in relationships with shitty guys; yet, I have never met the right one when I’m not looking for anything. That is, until now.
To say I didn’t expect to meet anyone, let alone Jack Hughes on what seemed like a normal summer day was an understatement. I thought it would be a quiet day on the boat where I could read and Nolan could fish. When I showed up at the docks this morning, there he was in all his glory. Despite being completely enamored with Jack from the moment our eyes locked, I kept a safe distance from him when we all got on the boat. If Nolan invited him, I’m sure he wouldn't be an asshole, but I’ve been hurt one too many times to let my guard down. The last guy though, he did a number on me and it took a lot of time for me to heal. Between the cheating, body shaming, and belittling I experienced with my ex I learned to be very wary about trusting men. Even though it's been two years since I left my ex, I’m just starting to feel like I’ve found myself again.
As a protective factor, I kept my distance from the starry-eyed forward and focused my attention on ensuring Nolan didn’t hit any other boats as he backed out of the marina. Still, I didn’t think anything would come from meeting Jack until he sat down beside me and asked me about the book in my beach bag. That question started everything…the perfect day spent getting to know the perfect guy. I explained to him that the book isn’t really a normal book, but it’s actually a collection of poetry.
“So the poems all flow together, but they aren’t about the exact same thing,” I tried to explain to Jack as I thumbed through the book to show him some examples. He was surprisingly eager to listen to my explanation of what was probably one of my favorite collections of poems. Normally guys don’t really care much about my interests…but maybe Jack is different.
“Okay, and they’re all about milk and honey?” Jack questioned while he processed what I was saying. I let out a hearty laugh at his statement; not because he was way off, but because he actually cared. A smile crept across Jack’s face, “what’s so funny?”
“Milk and Honey is the title, but not really the theme,” I smiled while crossing my legs to lean closer to Jack, already starting to warm to him. “They’re about relationships and healing actually.”
“Oh, that actually sounds pretty good,” Jack mirrored my movements, shuffling closer to me on the bench we were sharing.
“Thanks for caring,” I said softly, shooting Jack a more timid smile. Feeling myself retreat to my meek demeanor.
“You like it, of course I care,” the words slid out of his mouth so naturally. Jack Hughes might actually be different.
We spent the rest of the afternoon talking about anything and everything. Movies, music, food, some horrific stories I had from my time as a bartender. We even got into deeper topics too; what it was like growing up in Toronto for him, why I decided to get my first degree and my second, what it was like growing up with two brothers, my differing thoughts on only having one brother, and of course, hockey. Despite being apprehensive when I first met him, he was quickly knocking down the walls I built around myself to stay safe.
“So I originally wanted the number 6, but someone already had it when I came to the team,” Jack explained to me after we had been spending some time discussing what it was like being drafted and playing his rookie year.
“How did you come up with 86 then?” I asked as the sun glinted on my sunglasses. It had been a long afternoon on the boat, but we didn’t care. Jack spent the whole time talking to me, even ignoring the offers to try out wake-surfing when the guys asked.
“Well Quinn wears 43 so I wanted something that tied me to him,” he smiled softly as he tucked his wavy hair behind his ear. The wind was starting to pick up as he attempted to keep his flow at bay.
“He must mean a lot to you,” my fingers brushed his arm as I instinctively reached for him to offer some form of reassurance. Sparks shot through me like lightning as we touched for the first time. As I glanced down to where we connected, Jack reached forward to tuck the stray hairs that had fallen in my eyes. Warmth went rushing to my cheeks as my eyes darted back to his, he was watching me closely.
Shaking his head, as if he was in a daze, he refocused. “They both do, just don’t tell them that,” he joked, his laughter sent fireworks through my body.
Somehow he could be so serious yet sarcastic at the same time. The conversation with him just flowed, it felt so normal. He felt so normal with me. I never imagined that someone who is considered a rising star in the NHL could be so normal with me. Nothing felt fake or ingenuine, it all felt natural and comfortable. Feeling this way with a guy was a completely foreign feeling for me. Jack Hughes was a completely unexpected addition to my life, but even in the 10 hours I’ve known him it is beyond clear to me that he is someone unexpected that I was meant to meet.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After a long day out on the water, everyone was happy to get out of the sunshine and back to Nolan’s cabin. Despite being initially hesitant around Jack, we had bonded so much on the boat that we were basically attached at the hip. He even came with me when I stopped by my families’ cabin so I could change into some clothes for the evening. In the 5 minutes we were in the cabin, Jack was practically glued to the wall of family photos. He kept shouting questions to me while I was in my room, “Kira is this you in the Mickey ears?”. He was surprised to find out that I used to be a dancer, knew how to play hockey, and that I have a niece. I couldn’t help but laugh to myself as I gathered my things, Jack actually seemed passionate about learning more about me. He’s the first guy, probably ever, who has made that effort with me.
Jack and I walked back to Nolan’s cabin hand-in-hand, which captured the stares of our friends. I knew why my friends were surprised, I honestly haven’t shown any interest in another guy since my last breakup. I’m also not usually one for PDA, but there’s something about Jack that pushes me out of my comfort zone. We settled on a giant lawn chair big enough for two around the firepit and got cozy while everyone got ready to roast hotdogs. This was a typical summer night at the lake that I’ve always loved, with the welcome addition of Jack by my side.
As the night carried on, there was a slight chill in the nighttime breeze that sent shivers down my spine as I watched Nolan tend to the fire. Sensing my sudden chill, Jack pulled me into his side as we shared the plaid tattered blanket that was in the bed of Nolan’s truck. My body froze for a second at the sudden closeness of Jack, normally I was not one for any cuddling or closeness to any guy, let alone someone I just met. Yet as I gazed up into Jack’s soothing blue eyes, I relaxed almost instantly into his warmth. Our friends have been giving us both strange looks all day, clearly shocked at our instant connection. Cuddling under a blanket by the fire was sure to raise some eyebrows.
I didn’t care at all though, completely oblivious to the smirks and pointed looks of our friends as Jack and I settled into comfortable conversation while we roasted marshmallows for smores. Talking to Jack was so easy, maybe because I’ve never met a guy this interested in my life before. We spent the evening chatting about college, hockey, family, travel plans, and much more long after the sunset. We were so caught up in each other, we didn’t even notice that most of our friends had trickled inside or out to the dock.
Taking the final gulp of my beer while Jack told me a story about the lake house he was planning to buy with his brother, I finally noticed that Jack and I were alone by the fire as I set the bottle down. Glancing around over my shoulder to see where our friends had gone brought the same realization to Jack’s attention. Silence filled the air between us for a moment, tension buzzing between us like electricity.
“Soo…,” Jack trailed off as a smile graced his lips. “Guess they ditched us,” he smirked as my lips turned up into a smile to match his.
I let out a slightly nervous chuckle while I regained my bearings. Jack made me nervous, but not in a bad way. Not in the way I was uncomfortable with, but in a way that excited me. “Guess so, jerks,” I joked sarcastically. Jack let out a boisterous chuckle that sent fireworks right to my heart. I would love to hear that laugh for the rest of my life. Jack’s laughter didn’t last long as a serious look that I didn’t recognize graced his features.
“Actually, I was hoping to get you alone tonight,” Jack stuttered. He started scratching the back of his neck while fiddling with the ends of his hair. Suddenly I recognized the signs, he was nervous. It was actually quite sweet watching his demeanor shift.
“Oh yeah?” I questioned as I raised an eyebrow, encouraging him to explain himself further.
“Uh yeah,” he nodded for a moment. “Kira, there’s something I want to ask you.” His speech stopped as he waited to gauge my reaction.
“Go on Jack,” I encouraged, reaching for his hand that was resting on my shoulder to give it a squeeze.
With my reassurance, a smile formed on his lips once more. “Well, I was wondering if…” he paused to take a breath and perhaps gain some confidence. “Would you like to go out on a date with me?”
As the words left his lips and the sound met my ears, shock fell upon my face. My mouth went dry as I scrambled to find the words to answer his question. When was the last time someone asked me on a date? How do people usually respond to these questions?
“Shit, I freaked you out. I know we just met…” he trailed off. My shock was obviously spreading to him in the form of insecurity as his eyes dropped from mine. My mind continued to race as I struggled to find the words to convey my feelings on the matter. Oh god, what if he regrets asking me out?
“I’m not freaked out,” the words tumbled from my mouth without thought. Jack’s eyes lifted from my tattered black converse. “Surprised maybe, but not freaked out,” I commented while sending a warm smile his way.
Jack’s smile mirrored mine once more, god he has a beautiful smile. Moment of truth, time to answer a question that might change my life forever. “I would love to go on a date with you,” I let out a shaky breath as relief filled my body once more.
“Really?” Jack beamed.
“Absolutely Jack,” happiness filled my entire body like a tingle as I watched the gorgeous hockey player’s excitement grow.
“It’s not too soon?” He rebounded quickly.
“Jack, not at all,” I let out a breathy chuckle. “Would I say yes to anyone who asked me out on the first day we met?” I paused for a moment as curiosity filled his eyes. “Definitely not, but there's something different about you, Jack Hughes,” I commented as I stared longingly into his eyes.
“There’s something different about you too Kira,” his voice was but a whisper as he leaned closer to me to brush a few stray hairs behind my ear. His eyes darted to my lips before meeting my gaze once again. Before I could nod in silent permission that he could kiss me, Nolan’s deep voice shook me from my thoughts.
“Yo Kira, your car is blocking Jayden in,” Nolan shouted as he approached us from the cabin. My eyes rolled back as Jack dropped his head in defeat. I let out an exasperated sigh, fucking Nolan.
“Okay, I’ll move it,” I called back before smiling softly at Jack once more before throwing the blanket off my lap and pulling myself from the chair. I guess I’ll have to wait for our date for another chance at a kiss.
~~~~~~~~~~~
A whole 12-hours have passed since my late-night cuddles by the fire with Jack and with that, our first date grew closer. 12-hours felt like an eternity since I last saw Jack, I miss those blue eyes and his smile. Neither Jack nor I wanted to wait long to have our first date, so we planned to have it the very next day. Since I was the resident expert at the lake, I planned our date because I know all the good spots. I also have my family cabin to myself for the week, meaning there won’t be any more interruptions from anyone else, especially Nolan.
As the clock struck 2, I nervously climbed into my hatchback feeling my heart race as I pulled out of the gravel-road makeshift driveway by our cabin. The drive to Nolan’s cabin was short, mere minutes, this didn’t help ease my nerves as I stopped in front of his cabin. Getting out of my car, I rounded the front and leaned against the passenger side to wait for Jack. As I was waiting I started nervously picking my nails, a bad habit I picked up many years before. Pulled from my thoughts as I heard the cabin door swing open, I glanced up and was graced with Jack’s heartstopping smile.
“Hey beautiful,” He smiled as he jogged down the few stairs on the deck and pulled me in for a hug before I could react. Inhaling for a moment as I felt his warmth, my nostrils were met with the soothing smell of his cologne, which could only be described as hot boy cologne.
Recovering from my initial shock, “don’t flatter me, I’m just in comfy clothes,” I retorted. Jack pulled away from our hug, I felt disappointment creep into my bones wanting to pull him closer once more. He eyed me skeptically before glancing down at my outfit; I was sporting lavender leggings with a matching sports bra and a loose white crop top.
“You make comfy clothes look good,” his voice filled with desire as he leaned in once more. He was so close that I could feel his breath dancing across my skin. “You look beautiful,” he whispered before pressing his lips to my cheek and pulling away. My hand shot up to my cheek, skin burning from where his lips once were.
Shaking myself from my momentary trance, I dropped my hand from my warm cheeks. “Well, let’s get going. You’re going to love this hike, it’s my favorite,” I commented as I made my way back to the driver's side to hop back in the car.
“Nice ride,” Jack commented as we were buckling in. Glancing up at him I sent him a warm smile as I started the vehicle before putting it in drive.
“I mean, it’s no Range Rover but it gets me from point a to point b,” I chuckled as we moved away from the cabin. Jack and I chatted comfortably on the short drive to the hiking trail, discussing the lake and its cutesy shops. I was focusing on the road but the few times I glanced over at Jack I caught him staring; he would always look away quickly but I did notice blush creeping up his neck. Maybe he had the first date jitters too.
Gripping the steering wheel tightly the rest of the short drive, I turned into the parking lot by the trail, relieved to see there weren’t any other cars parked. That meant the trail would be quiet, which is perfect for a first date. We both got out of the car as I made my way to the trunk to pull out the small backpack I brought with me. Jack offered to carry it as I reached back into the trunk for the bug spray.
“Did you use bug spray?” I asked softly. Jack scrunched up his face, clearly unhappy to see the repellent.
“No, I hate that stuff,” he mockingly gagged as I shook the can at him. I let out a laugh, my nerves slightly easing at his distaste.
“Well, unless you want to be eaten alive, I would use it,” I commented as I stepped back from him to spray myself down. Once I was done I handed him the can which he reluctantly accepted.
“This is necessary?” he questioned as he hesitated with the spray.
“Welcome to Canada,” I joked as I nodded my head. He sprayed himself with the bug protectant before tossing it back in my trunk. We locked up the car and headed over to the start of the trail just off the parking lot.
“So, you bring a lot of first dates here?” he teased. My cheeks felt flush as I glanced up at the hockey player who was towering over me. After staring into his eyes for a moment I determined that he was joking, we’re still figuring out these quirks about each other.
“Only the ones who are worth it,” I shot back as we started making our way onto the trail. “So my family normally comes on this trail every summer. It’s not super long or uphill but there is a gorgeous lookout point about halfway through,” I explained as Jack and I matched each other's pace. He seemed to enjoy my explanation, listening eagerly when I told him the story of how our family dog jumped into the pond on the side of the trail when she saw a butterfly one year.
“I see why you like this hike,” Jack commented. His voice was a little shaky in a way I didn’t recognize. “Worth it for the bug spray,” he chuckled. I let out a snicker at his clear hatred of bug repellent.
“You lived in Canada before, this can’t be your first experience with bug spray,” I teased. As we continued on the trail I started picking at the hem of my shirt, noticing a few rouge strings pulling away from the material.
“Doesn’t mean I like it, it feels greasy,” he scoffed. I nodded in agreement, he wasn’t wrong. As we rounded a corner venturing deeper into the trees, I stepped over a large tree root.
“Just be careful,” I commented, glancing up at Jack who was staring at me intently. “There are a lot of roots to watch out for…” I trailed off. Just as I was warning Jack about the trail I caught him catching a tree root with his shoe out of the corner of my eye. As Jack started to tumble down I instinctively reached out to grab him with both arms. He gripped my arms tightly as he went down on one knee, his cheeks were red when he met my gaze once more. “Are you okay?”
He took a moment, “Yeah, just my first time walking,” he joked sarcastically. I threw my head back in laughter for a moment before helping him get back on his feet. “Good to hear your laugh,” he smiled as he brushed himself off.
“I did try to warn you,” I feigned, throwing my hands up in mock defense.
“I just meant, you seemed…tense earlier,” he commented as he tried to gently find the words to point out my nerves. Pursing my lips I debated in my head for a moment, do I tell him?
“I’m a bit nervous,” I hesitantly replied, deciding to go with honesty.
Jack let out a long sigh of relief, “So am I, first dates ya know?”
“Oh I know,” I agreed as I felt the tension melt away from my body. Just admitting to the nerves helped relieve them.
“You have nothing to be nervous about Kira,” Jack’s voice was soft as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side as we started to walk again.
“Oh yeah?” I questioned, glancing up at him in uncertainly.
“Yeah, I like you,” he stated matter of factly, so sure of himself. I do love the confidence, he’s not even cocky at all.
“I like you too,” I feel a smile spreading across my face as I glance at the ground making sure we don’t take a repeat tumble. We walked in comfortable silence for a few moments, Jack’s arm still wrapped around me tightly. “So, are you going to hold onto me for the rest of this hike?” I teased.
“I’m not falling again,” he joked sarcastically. I echoed his laughter, feeling bold I wrapped my arm around his lower back as we continued walking. We spent the rest of the hike with our arms wrapped around each other, not caring that doing so slowed down our pace significantly. We just enjoyed being close to each other, it felt comfortable. The silence in the trees was filled with our discussions about our favorite summer memories with our families, he shared a lot about his summers in Michigan and I feel that I grew to know him even more with those stories. Despite being so hesitant yesterday, Jack was easily proving that we could have a normal connection despite his hockey superstardom.
After our hike, we planned to head back to my cabin for dinner. As we parked out front and pulled ourselves from the vehicle an idea crept into my mind. “Still feel greasy from the bug spray?” I questioned as he shut my car door. Nodding his head vigorously he swiped some of the bug spray off his arm as evidence. “You know we could go for a quick swim?” I gestured to the water just off the cabin. My family was lucky enough to have a lakeside cabin with a private dock that I spent most of my summers sitting on.
“I don’t have my swim trunks,” Jack commented hesitantly. I smirked at him for a moment before I started toying with the bottom of my shirt.
“That’s never stopped me before,” I teased before pulling my crop top off and tossing it at the hockey player. Jack’s eyes were wide for a moment as he mentally processed the shock from the shirt hitting him in the chest. He was quiet for a moment as I stared at him, hands on my hips waiting for his response.
“Yeah, I’m in,” he shrugged as a playful smile grew on his lips. We both quickly shed the rest of our clothes before we were left standing with him in his briefs and me in my underwear. Thank the gods that I chose cute underwear today. We both stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, I had to try very hard to not openly gawk at his abs. Damn, he is gorgeous.
After taking in all of his beauty, a sly smile crept onto my face. “Race ya,” I shouted without warning as I took off for the water. Jack chased after me as I shot across the grass and to the wooden dock. I should’ve known he would be faster than me, I thought as he quickly caught up to me. He grabbed me around the waist, lifting me off the ground to spin me around. I couldn’t help the fit of laughter that spread through me as Jack twirled around while I was safely in his arms. “Jack, put me down,” I playfully smacked his shoulder as he carried me towards the edge of the dock.
A mischievous smile crept onto his lips that let me know that it was payback time. “Put you down? Are you sure?” He taunted as he held me over the water. I clung to him tightly as nerves spread through my body. He better not.
“Jacky don’t!” I pleaded as he swung me over the water haphazardly. He was obviously having a good time with this, laughing as I clung to him like a fearful koala bear. “Jacky please!” I begged.
“Only because you asked so nicely,” his voice dripped with sarcasm as he set me down on my two feet. I instantly stepped out of his hold and crossed my arms over my chest, inadvertently pushing my boobs up which caught Jack’s attention. Smirking as I noticed his distraction I quickly shifted all my weight forward and shoved him off the dock; I knew it was deep enough to be safe, having jumped off this dock my whole life.
“Shit!” he cried out as he stumbled backwards into the water, fully submerging beneath the surface. He emerged within seconds, a pouty look forming on his face. “That wasn’t very nice,” he whined. I chuckled, crouching to my knees to lean over the edge of the dock.
“Sorry Jacky,” I mirrored his pout. Before I knew what hit me, he smacked his arms against the water to splash me. Letting out a small scream as the cold water hit my skin, “meany,” I pouted.
“Sorry babe,” he teased but I didn’t care. Hearing the pet name shot butterflies to my heart and maybe elsewhere. He reached his hand out for me, which I naively assumed was to pull him out of the water. Using all of his strength, he pulled me off the dock and into the water as I crashed into him. Pushing my hair out of my eyes and sputtering water as I emerged from the surface, I gave him a playful shove.
“I can’t believe you did that,” I huffed as I sent some water splashing his way.
“I can’t believe you fell for that,” he said between fits of laughter.
“Oh yeah, very funny,” I scoffed as I treaded water. “I thought you liked me,” mock sadness filled my voice.
“Babe, I like you, like a lot,” Jack commented as he swam closer to me, catching me with his arm and pulling me to his firm muscular body. My hands rested on his bare chest as I felt the butterflies once more. There we were staring into each other’s eyes on a beautiful summer day in the water. I couldn’t help but feel this wouldn’t be the last time this happened.
“I like you alot too,” I smiled softly. “But only if you stop splashing me,” I followed up quickly as I traced random shapes on his chest.
“Deal,” he snickered. We spent the better part of an hour swimming around, laughing, inevitably splashing each other more, and drying off in the sun on the dock. Our conversations continued to get deeper as we surpassed the surface level aspects of getting to know each other. He listened intently while I explained why I wanted a career where I could help people. I couldn’t hide my smile as he described having his dreams come true when he was drafted, hockey clearly brought him so much joy. We spent time discussing different sports we loved playing, and even more importantly, the sports teams we loved watching.
Our conversation never died down or got boring, I never want this date to end. After a while, my stomach started to grumble. I decided it was better to get started on supper before I got hangry as I shifted from Jack’s arms and pulled myself to my feet. Offering my hand to him to help him up, “how do you feel about steak?” I asked once he was on his feet towering over me once again.
“Like you might be my dream girl,” he smiled as we wrapped our arms around each other and walked off the dock together.
“Good, I might need your help with the broccoli though. It’s pretty tricky,” I joked sarcastically knowing it would get a rise out of Jack. Jack stopped dead in his tracks, stopping me with him.
“Did Nico tell you about that?” his voice was full of embarrassment. I smiled and leaned into him, wrapping my other arm around his waist as I nodded.
“I think it’s cute though,” I reassured him as he let out a sigh of relief as we stopped to collect our clothes before heading inside.
Once we were back in comfortable dry clothing, we got started on supper. Jack was surprisingly helpful in the kitchen, washing the lettuce and putting together a salad with my guidance. He was incredibly impressed that I could work a grill as well as I could and gave me endless compliments on my steak. Even joking that I needed to come live in Jersey to cook for him during the season. The dinner conversation was comfortable as we chatted about my plans for my final year of school, my tattoos, what it’s like to travel so much in the league, and our surprising shared love for fantasy football. Jack very passionately described all the fantasy leagues he is in while he cleaned up the whole meal. He insisted I sit down while he washed the dishes because I cooked such an amazing meal.
“A man who does chores, you truly know the way to my heart,” I joked as he topped up my glass of wine and started cleaning.
When everything was dried and put away, I felt dread seep through me, not wanting the night to end. I suggested we go sit on the dock to watch the sun set, an opportunity that Jack eagerly jumped on. So we dragged deck chairs down to the dock and comfortably settled in as the sun made way for the stars.
We sat in comfortable silence, my feet dangling in Jack's lap as he traced shapes on my ankles over some of my tattoos. He broke the silence first, “This connection is crazy.”
“Hmm,” I hummed as I tore my gaze away from the sun setting on the water to pay attention to Jack.
“The connection between us,” he reiterated. “I don’t know how you feel, but it feels strong to me,” he commented as his hands stilled on my legs. His gaze was soft, reassuring.
“I feel it too, feels like we’ve known each other way longer,” I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear as I leaned back in my chair. “I feel comfortable with you.”
“Me too,” he smiled while giving my leg a little pinch, maybe to reassure me. I have never felt so comfortable with a man this quickly, not in any of my past relationships. It feels like there is this force pulling Jack and I closer, it’s what’s made our connection so strong. This feels so different for me, maybe he’s different from the other guys. I have a feeling he is. “Kira?” Jack’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts as I let out a shaky breath. “You okay?”
Nodding silently, I try to muster up whatever courage I have within myself. “I was nervous today,” I start, Jack nods encouraging me to continue. “I was nervous because…” I pause for a moment and take a deep breath. Jack pulls me from my chair and into his lap, his arms feel like home. “Well, my last relationship ended quite badly. He really hurt me, I think intentionally and it’s just…just hard for me to open up to people,” letting out a shaky sigh as the words tumble out of me. It feels freeing actually, getting all that out, so it isn’t a secret looming over me.
Jack shifts me in his lap so I can meet his eyes, “I don’t know what happened in your last relationship, but Kira, I promise you I will never do anything to intentionally hurt you,” his words pierced my soul as his thumb grazed my cheek. “I can’t guarantee I won’t fuck up sometimes, but I will do everything in my power to make you happy.”
His eyes were locked on mine as I melted into his touch. “I know you will Jacky, I feel comfortable around you,” my voice is small as my eyes break from his and dart to his lips. He seems to pick up on my gesture as he takes my face in his hands.
“Can I kiss you?” Jack asks gently. I bite down on my lip to try to hide my smile as I nod my head. Time stops as Jack leans down to connect his lips to mine, his lips are warm against my own as they move in unison. Jack’s tongue ran across my own as I granted him entrance; he tastes sweet, like the wine we were sharing earlier. Our lips locked for a while before we both pulled away for air, huffing as we did so.
“That was…” I trailed off, resting my forehead against Jack’s.
“Pretty damn amazing,” Jack finished my sentence. We stayed like that for a while, foreheads resting on one another; the sunset in the distance long forgotten.
“You know,” Jack’s voice broke through the comfortable silence. “You got to plan our first date, it was cool to see your favorite spots,” his breath tickled my skin as we remained close.
“I’m glad you liked it,” I smiled as I pecked his lips gently.
“This just means that I need to plan a date where I show you my favorite spots in Michigan,” he smiled as a playful energy danced through his eyes.
“Bold of you to assume there will be a second date,” I teased. Jack threw his head back in laughter, enjoying the playful jokes we were already comfortable sharing.
“If you’ll have me,” he pouted jokingly.
“Oh I guess, if I must,” I mocked, unable to hide my smile.
“If you must,” Jack scoffed as he brought his lips back down to mine. Resuming our passionate makeout session, pulling away a few minutes later we were both panting like teenagers with no stamina.
“Okay, fine. I’ll go on another date with you,” I commented as our lips were still attached.
Jack smirked against my lips, “Good, glad I could convince you.”
“You are very convincing,” I said before pulling him in for more. We spent the rest of the night kissing and cuddling underneath the stars, enjoying each other’s company and growing closer than I ever imagined.
It’s hard to believe this was only our first date, everything is so comfortable between us. Feeling hopeful that there would be another date with the gorgeous hockey player, I can finally smile when thinking about meeting someone when I least expect it. Jack truly came into my life when I didn’t expect it and I hope that he’s here to stay.
#jack hughes#my writing#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes blurb#jack hughes fluff#jack hughes imagines#jack hughes fic#nhl imagine#nhl#nhl hockey#hockey#nj devils#new jersey devils
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a totally unbiased (no) and mostly serious (i guess) spoiler-free primer
I've seen a bunch of posts floating around encouraging people into the fandom, or HBO War people looking for a new fandom/show to sink their teeth into. Here's my effot to add to the propaganda, because I've been in this fandom since Nov '22, it's delightful here and I always love a new SASRH friend to chat to.
tl;dr: it's a lot of fun
premise & setting
SAS: Rogue Heroes is the story of the founding of the original* Special Air Service (SAS) of the British Army during WW2. It centres three of the initial founders, David Stirling, Blair 'Paddy' Mayne and Jock Lewes. Two of other men credited as founding the SAS, Bill Fraser and Georges Bergé also feature. Bill Stirling, David's older brother and integral to the founding of the SAS, will feature in series 2.
Series 1 is 6 episodes long, covering events from the North African campaign from May '41 through Jan '43. Series 2 has been filmed and will move the action to Europe.
Based largely on the book, SAS: Rogue Heroes by Ben Macintyre.
*it was disbanded in Oct '45, and reformed in '47, ultimately leading, through various machinations, to the modern day SAS.
historical accuracy
Somewhat more fast and loose with history than Band of Brothers, The Pacific or Masters of the Air, but not bad enough to send historians spiralling into deep despair, with one very important caveat: the depiction of Paddy Mayne. More on him and this in a moment. However, it has generally been well received. Damien Lewis (the author and historian, not the actor) said "...it's reasonably realistic. It tells a great yarn. I think they've used some artistic license, I can understand why they've done so to a certain extent... Generally they've got the equipment and the kit bang on, I think they had some very good advisers." (here)
There are some weird timeline issues, which I think is caused largely by odd pacing and editing. I'd not worry about this too much, otherwise you'll break your brain. Likewise, liberties have been taken with the geography, which I think is a bit more heinous, but ymmv.
characters: lads lads lads lads lads
after the first four, these are in no order of importance, before anyone gets on at me about their favourite. i also appreciate there are other characters but this bit was already getting really long.
david stirling (connor swindells) - the dreamer
Arrogant, manipulative, clever, charismatic bastard. David Stirling is fueled chiefly by daddy issues and an inferiority complex a mile wide. Connor Swindells walks a beautiful line between swagger and vulnerability. He does not let things like "common sense", "safety precautions" or "understanding the implications" get in the way of doing important things like flinging himself out of a plane in the middle of the desert or talking his way into army bases armed with nothing but crutches and chutzpah.
blair 'paddy' mayne (jack o'connell) - the madman
Paddy Mayne my BELOVED. Character of all time. He's a drinker, a fighter and abhors a bully. For most of the show, we see him at his most desperate and most angry and arguably most violent. HOWEVER, he's also a highly intelligent, sensitive, compassionate poet and voracious reader; if there's a bunch of poetry being quoted, it's probably Paddy doing it. He loves so very deeply. His depiction in the show is a bit of a bone of contention with family and historians - some people read him as being depicted as a violent thug only, and that's not what the real Blair Mayne was like. Which is simultaneously true and not true. Blair Mayne was an incredibly complicated man.
The other contentious-to-some point is that the show does deliberately suggest his queerness, something Jack O'Connell has talked about in interviews. Some people have taken issue with this. Either way, for those who saw the sand wrestling gifs and wanted to know if SASRH was just queerbaiting, the answer is no, actually. But don't expect anything explicit on this front.
Jack O'Connell looks like he's having a fucking fantastic time.
jock lewes (alfie allen) - the creator
In real life, Jock Lewes was nicknamed "The Wizard", how great is that? David, Paddy and David met in training and are referred to in show as "the Three Musketeers". He is basically the mediator between Paddy and David, which sounds dull, except Jock is also batshit and clever and scary. He makes all the lads do intense marches in the desert without water, but is never willing to ask someone to do what he wouldn't do. Trouble is, as mentions, he is batshit so his standards are VERY VERY HIGH. He also has a fiancee, Mirren, whomst he loves very much and their relationship is so tender and brings me to tears on the regular.
eve mansour (sofia boutella)
Eve works for French Military Intelligence and quietly drives a lot of action behind the scenes. She's a totally fictional invention for the show and I'd be madder about it if Sofia Boutella wasn't being gorgeous and smart all over the place. She is focused on the goal and is generally just. Queen.
dudley clarke (dominic west)
Not so much a member of the SAS as the guy who helps Stirling bring this plan to fruition. He's great fun, charming and affable, and just as dangerous as anyone else. Dudley Clarke doesn't get enough credit, I think.
mike sadler (tom glynn-carney)
Mike Sadler my OTHER beloved. I joke about Mike coming to fix all the stuff around my flat that doesn't work and it's because he's singlehandedly the most competent member of the entire SAS, I think. His introduction scene is the sexiest thing on the entire show. He only gets introduced in episode 3, but in my heart we have six seasons and a movie with him. He's a member of the Long Range Desert Group and knows more about navigating the landscape than anyone. The LRDG are barely part of the show (save for Mike) and are well worth looking up.
IRL Mike Sadler actually only passed away this year, at the age of 103.
eoin mcgonigal (dónal finn)
Most of what Eoin's around for in SAS: RH is to hang out being impossibly beautiful and being ride or die for Paddy Mayne. Dónal Finn and Jack O'Connell created the most beautiful relationship told in touches. Drives me mad. He's also the first one who really understands who Paddy is beyond the brash and violent front. Eoin McGonigal is certainly a creature.
bill fraser, johnny cooper, reg seekings, jim almonds, dave kershaw, pat riley
(stuart campbell, jacob mccarthy, theo barklem-biggs, corin silva, bobby schofield, jacob ifan)
Look, there are a lot of lads and I can't do them all justice. Some of these folks get a lot more to do than the others, and they're all distinct characters in their own right. There are two matched set duos, Reg & Johnny (enemies to lovers, 150k) and Jim & Pat (do not seperate). Jim & Pat were Jock's crew prior to the SAS and the way he gets them to join is basically by saying "hey, there's a really stupid and dangerous thing i want to do, you in?" and they do this:
each and every one of them is as bad as the others.
augustin jordan, georges bergé, andré zirnheld
Free French paratroopers, who Stirling is reluctantly forced into accepting into the SAS by Eve and Clarke. TBF, this is where SAS: RH really starts playing with history, though it serves the narrative well enough. Show!Augustin Jordan was a former professor of Philosophy at La Sorbonne, and is also a tall dark haired man, so you can see how Paddy Mayne is gonna struggle.
I had to use the sand wrestling gif here (that's augustin), you've probably seen it. It's a surprisingly interesting character scene, would you believe.
There are several other named characters, but I'm running out of energy.
other stuff
OK, so I've lost my thread here a bit. SAS: Rogue Heroes is fun, first and foremost. It really does fall down on the side of "Cool Boys Doing War", so if that's not your thing, maybe you'll not enjoy it. I personally do. And I think it does have some further depth to it than that, even if that's where it comes back to. I've never seen Peaky Blinders, but apparently it's a bit like that? IDK.
While it's very violent, I don't think it's as brutal as the HBO War shows. It's a much more heightened kind of drama, so there's a step removal I think, from the really visceral. That said, it's still a war drama, and it does feature some very nasty business.
soundtrack
it's mostly hard rock and if you don't like this, idk what to tell you. i fucking love it. once again though, mike sadler gets the best of this. you'll know it when you see it.
the fandom
The SAS Rogue Heroes fandom is small but it is mighty and it genuinely is very friendly. There is a Discord if you like, but you don't have to do it if Discord is not your thing.
While the overriding popular ship is Paddy/Eoin, Paddy/Augustin and Reg/Johnny are also wildly popular. That said, we are fond of a rarepair in this fandom, and I personally have embarked on a mission of shipping Mike Sadler with every other character. Everyone's very encouraging of wild ideas and aus, anything's welcome.
A few people are writing OCs, and that too is great. I encourage more of that! I don't think I've seen any x Reader yet, but never say never.
Come join us!
a brief suggested further reading
you really don't have to do any of this, but like, some of you are nerds, i get it. i also got a lot of other recs, but these are some good starters. you can hit me up for more, it's all good.
SAS: Rogue Heroes by Ben Macintyre
SAS Brothers in Arms: Churchill's Desperadoes - Damien Lewis
SAS: An Illustrated History of the SAS - Joshua Levine
Speed, Aggression, Surprise: The Untold Secret Origins of the SAS - Tom Petch
One of the Originals: Story of a Founder Member of the S.A.S. - Anthony Kemp & Johnny Cooper (Johnny Cooper's memoir and imo, if you read nothing else, read this)
The Phantom Major: The Story of David Stirling & the SAS Regiment - Virginia Cowles (this was written in 1958. There is a "rebuttal" biog, The Phoney Major by Gavin Mortimer, which also contains a lot of info, but I find Mortimer's bias against Stirling incredibly difficult to stomach. Difficult.)
Paddy Mayne - Hamish Ross (honestly, I'd not bother with other biogs of Blair Mayne unless you want to do a lot of reading around and getting cross)
Special Forces Brothers in Arms: Eoin & Ambrose McGonigal - Patric McGonigal (this is so personal and so beautiful, I cried several times reading it. written by Eoin's great-nephew. Ambrose, Eoin's older brother was part of the SBS, Special Boat Service, who are ALSO very interesting)
Gentleman Jim: The Wartime Story of a Founder of the SAS and Special Forces - Lorna Almonds-Windmill (another biog by a family member, this one is gentle and told with love)
Joy Street: A Wartime Romance in Letters - the published correspondence between Jock Lewes and Mirren Barford. A slightly different kind of book, but gosh. It really hits.
...and that's all I got for you right now. I could talk about this show for days though.
(forgot to add: my SAS RH blog is @regseekings, I posted this on here for the HBO war fandom)
youtube
#sas rogue heroes#i'm very tired now#i'm gonna go get a sandwich#sasrh reading list#sas: rogue heroes#Youtube
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Thinking about James/Remus and seriously questioning why it's not a thing cause
1) the whole sun/moon lore I was talking about earlier
2) their shipname would be somn like "moonchaser" or "sunreader" or somn
3) it fits right into the running gag that James has a thing for people being mean to him
4) imagine all the possible angst mhmm mhmm Remus pining over James, finding out he likes his best friend, finding out she likes him back, losing him again and again ooooohhhhh just
5) but they're also perfect cause all Remus ever needs is to be loved and all James knows is to love someone else
6) ok but leave the angst, focus on the fluff. The possibilities omg friends to lovers just this time (minus all the usual angst that comes in wolfstar) and they're both just dumb oblivious idiots in love and it's so cute
7) thinking about all of this now I think what you said is right, people don't ship Remus with anyone other than Sirius but I think that's cause Sirius actually doesn't have many ships left then? Cause think about it like this: Sunreader, Bartylus, Marylily, Evan and Emmeline, Panda and Xeno, where does that leave Sirius? Sure Pete is there but...
8) ooooh ok going down this pipeline, for your consideration: Peter and Sirius. Omg it would make the "Sirius put in trial instead of Peter" thing sooooo much more ansgty ohhoo my brain is reeling rn
9) ok focusing back on moonchaser. They would make such a cute couple honestly. James would read all the books Remus reads and leaves lil doodles for him to find later. He would go to all the quidditch practices he can to support his bf. And he would right poetry and stuff about how hot James is.
10) ohhh They would share glasses omggg poor Remus grows up thinking everyone has shit vision then one day he wears James's as a joke and voila the world in HD
I'm so ngl, your influence on my brain has become on the best influences it has ever had cause omg all this potential all this angst and fluff I love this new me mhmm mhmm
hsirbdij omggggg I love this sm!!! thank you for sharing your brain with me.
sunreader sounds so gorgeous. I'm going insane. I love love LOVE the name!
1) yeah are literally the sun and the moon! they are perfect!
3) lmao. so true. I love the idea of remus being super sarcastic towards james and james swoons at every mean comment and tries very hard not to (he fails miserably)
4) urghhhhh not the unrequited feelings while having to be a supportive bestie trope (my beloved). I can imagine how mad it drives remus to watch them like each other, but being to scared to admit it. imagine the heartbreak when remus sees harry alias the combination of his parents
5) yesss. remus needs someone to love him even through all of his flaws, someone who isn't his parents and james who is literally the embodiment of love
6) "everyone can see it, but them" trope fr. it's them idfk
7) you make a fair point, but there are sooooooo many characters living in the marauders characters that no one ever uses. you could ship sirius with so many characters that no one ever talks abt (I'm currently working on a post with all the characters that I could find so that they're all in one place)
8) peter and sirius my loves <3 no one talks about them (me included whoops-). they have such a big angst potential that people just seem to be ignoring (once again bc most people refuse to leave the wolfstar bubble and just refuse to ship peter with anyone in general)
9) they would be the definition of tooth rotting fluff. they would make everyone sick with how sweet they are. couple goals fr
10) remus is me fr. the day I got my glasses was eye-opening lmao
glad to see that I have this kind of effect on people. I said it to you before but I'll say it again: welcome to the way more funnier side of being a multishipper hehehehe
also: I think I'm in love with you. marry pls, I'm begging 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 (/j... unless)
#also if anyone heared me scream when I saw this ask#no you fucking didn't#marauders#marauders era#marauders fandom#remus lupin#james potter#moonchaser#sunreader#urgh love that ship name#remus x james#sirius x peter#mentioned at least#loves#the lover with the great ideas#wow... you're bad at parking
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Eros' song
-> Shinichiro Sano x Reader (no pronouns or descriptions)
characters: Shinichiro Sano
genre: fluff
summary: you write a poem as a way to confess to your best friend
warnings: childhood friends to lovers, i wrote the poem so please don't be too mean or i'll cry, also DON'T STEAL THE POEM FOR THE LOVE OF GOD it will be my last reason, the reader is into books, first quote is from Kafka's Letters to Milena and the second is Edgar Allan Poe's Annabel Lee
network: @eveningatthemoviesnetwork
Shinichiro has been your best friend since your first memory surfaced. From the moment you could process thoughts and emotions, the man has been close to you. Truly, it was a matter of time until one of you fell in love and you happened to be the (un)lucky one.
You were no older than thirteen when the infamous incident happened. Shinichiro (also thirteen and with a really, really ugly hairstyle) looked at you and gave you a big toothy smile, like he always does whenever a cool bike passes by you. Suddenly, flowers exploded behind him, angels sang, the sun shone brighter than it had all day and you found yourself almost squinting and on the verge of throwing up because of the butterflies in your stomach. Metaphorically, obviously.
It was a shame, really. You nearly yelled at the universe for not giving this evil curse to Shinichiro instead but, apparently, the entities above also doomed Shinichiro to a life of rejection. So, you suffered because your best friend didn’t look at you and the man suffered because no girl wanted him.
At thirteen you turned into poetry and all kinds of literature, finding pieces that you related to a bit too much and, eventually, writing things yourself. Shinichiro didn’t understand most of the stuff you read, always questioning what words meant and what was so special about those poems that had you tear up so often. You shared that part of your life with him as well, showing the poems, drabbles, verses you came up with that were messily written in your journal. Fortunately for you and your weak heart, Shinichiro didn’t really understand that most of the things you wrote were about him.
It stayed that way until you were twenty three. You were less naive, more in tune with the feelings that made you want to throw up years ago and definitely in love with your best friend (who kept getting rejected even after changing the horrible hairstyle; the Gods really hated you both). Shinichiro had his own bike shop, a gang that supported him through everything and you. He still happily reads whatever you wrote in your journal and he still doesn't understand half of the stuff you have there but the honest praise and support makes your heartbeat a little bit faster. Shinichiro is there when you publish your very own poetry book, his name deservedly on the first page. To Shinichiro, who was always there for me. As Franz Kafka said “In a way, you are poetry material; You are full of cloudy subtleties I am willing to spend a lifetime figuring out.”
So, maybe, you were a bit too obvious with the whole ‘I love you’ deal but Shinichiro didn't seem to understand all the hints you dropped. Everyone around you seemed to find out about your little secret and some of his friends even went out of their way to let you know he felt the same but you weren't so sure.
“What you writing over there?” the smooth voice of Shinichiro pulls you back to reality, the noise in the shop coming back in an instant. It was almost dinner time and you came into the shop hoping to have a meal with your best friend before going home. Deciding to entertain yourself, you pulled out your notebook and a pen from your bag and wrote some ideas that popped in your head as you stared with heart eyes to the object of your affection.
“Nothing important.” A lie. The words that stared back at you formed, yet again, another finished love poem that you dreamed of showing to Shinichiro in hopes that he would read it and return your feelings. Shinichiro knew you were lying. Somehow he always knew. You refuse to return eye contact when he grabs your pen and doodles mindlessly next to the verses, a routine he acquired when you whined about the pages of your journal being too boring with just words in it. You look at his hands gently drawing small hearts (Shinichiro couldn't draw a heart even if it was to save his family but you grew to love the blob shapes) and a random dog with stars surrounding it.
“Can I read it?” You meet his eyes, tender and sweet, which were already looking at you. Your heart flips, turns and does cartwheels when Shinichiro gives you that toothy smile that makes him close his eyes and you can only let out a small “Sure.” before closing your mouth so you don't accidentally confess.
My soul holds a secret that my pen
Now wishes to share.
In ink-stained lines, my feelings find a home:
Untold to anyone but the Gods from above,
As I convoke Eros to help me compose a piece
That will reach your heart.
But do I dare?
Do I dare trouble the deities with a greedy tone
When I can’t gather the courage
To whisper confessions when we’re alone;
The only witness to my love
Being the moon shining high up
And the paper getting stained with passion.
So sure of my affection yet,
I hesitate.
Do you dare reciprocate these heavy feelings
That only keep me awake at night or
Am I merely a friend that consoles your ego
When things fall apart?
But it’s okay,
For I have accepted the possibility
The harsh, unwanted probability
That I’m doomed to an existence of unrequited love
And a lifeless life
Without the muse who inspires me
To write the most loveful poems and
The most sorrowful verses.
You nervously glance at Shinichiro while he is reading, noticing how his eyes squint and his nose scrunches from time to time (he does it when he doesn't understand something that is written). You pay close attention to his face, the poet in you wishing to remember Shinichiro until your last day if the worst was to happen. A part of you hopes the man will finally understand all of the things you wished to say but weren’t strong enough to. You pray that your poem reaches his heart and soul, that he sees you not only as a longtime friend but a life partner. “Wow.” He sighs, lifting his eyes from the paper to settle on you again. “I’ll never get tired of saying you’re really good.” Shinichiro stands back at his full height, murmuring about back pain after leaning down for so long. You look up at the man who has your world spinning around him, waiting to see if he says something more. He doesn't.
“Is that all?” You ask, playing with the bracelet on your wrist (a gift from Shinichiro when you turned 18). He looks at you confused. His eyes scan the paper again, rereading the verses to figure out if he missed anything. He still looks lost so you grab the pen and, in a moment of courage, you write a few words at the bottom of the poem. For Shinichiro, who I “loved with a love that was more than love”. The handwriting is shaky, giving away the anxiety exuding out of you. Shinichiro reads the additional words, then stops, then looks at you. You get up, not being able to have his body towering you that way. He is standing next to you and, for the first time, you’re not sure about the emotions revealed by his eyes. You wonder if you made a mistake confessing out of nowhere, in his shop, while his siblings and friends are hanging out and the last customers exit. You should have eased your way into the subject but what’s done is done and all you have left is to wait.
“I know I’m not the smartest person…” Shinichiro’s eyes are on you, reading your every move. “But does this mean what I think it means?” You nod, not trusting your voice. His eyes widen and, in a sudden movement, Shinichiro is even closer to you. His hands are on each side of your face, forcing you to look at him. “You wrote a poem for me. A love poem.” You nod again, your movements a bit restricted by the big hands holding your face in place. “I’m going to kiss you.”
Shinichiro gives you five seconds to step back before his lips are crashing against yours. You don't think any poem, book, word could describe what you felt the moment your lips met. It’s fast and a bit clumsy but you couldn't be more happy this happened, unable to control the smile when Shinichiro stops the kiss to look at you. You want to giggle like a young teenager when Shinichiro gives you that smile you love more than anything. “Does this mean you feel the same?”
“Yeah. Have for a while. Couldn't stand the thought of getting rejected by you though.” His thumb caresses your cheek and you find yourself leaning to the touch.
“I would never reject you.” You murmur, embarrassed at such revelation. “You know there’s a quote from Emily Brontë-”
“Tell me about her in a bit.” Shinichiro interrupts you. “I want to kiss you again.”
The next time you write a poem isn't about Shinichiro, your best friend. Instead, you dumped all of the new (reciprocated) feelings about Shinichiro, your boyfriend, and the experiences you get from living with him by your side. Most of your poems were and will probably always be about Shinichiro Sano, no matter the status he holds in your life. You get to love your muse and your boyfriend gets a lifetime supply of romantic poetry dedicated to him (as well as quotes that fit each situation).
#shinichiro fluff#shinichiro x reader#tokyo revengers fluff#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyorev fluff#tokyorev x reader#shinichiro sano#kora posts!
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Court of Thieves || Chapter 2
previous part | masterlist | next part
synopsis: The Lady Mitchell has traveled to Landing Center to meet her new husband. Prince Jake returns from war and comes face to face with his father's ailing condition
word count: 4.7k
warnings: mentions of death, language, era-related misogyny, talks of pregnancy, arranged marriage, mentions of infidelity.
You wanted to put up a fight. You wanted to scream and yell and throw things and curse at your father for signing you away before you even had a chance. From a young age, you knew that you wouldn’t have much say in the matter of who you married. Your father was part of the King’s guard, a trusted swordsman in his younger days. Whatever marriage you were to spawn was going to be for a political alliance, but your father promised you that it was going to be with your blessing.
“I hear that the Prince isn’t so bad,” Bradley said, interrupting your reading. You peered over your book at him and he just shrugged, “It could be worse.”
You closed your book. You had to travel through the night via ship to the mainland of Brinefell. Now you were in a carriage to take you to Landing Center, where the King resided. . . your new home, “How could it be worse? I am betrothed to a man who’s called the Crown Whore Prince.”
The rumors of the Prince of Brinefell’s escapades were vast. He surrounded himself with pretty women, tearing through them like a man on a hunt. He didn’t care that he sullied their maidenheads, and had no intention of wedding them. The Prince was a smooth talker and had a pretty face to back it up.
“Those are just stories, you know that,” Bradley said, reaching across the small carriage cabin to grab your hand.
“And my sister’s stories? Those are just rumors?”
Bradley sucked in a breath. Pete had sent his eldest daughter Allison to be a part of the Queen’s court. The Queen was friends with Pete’s late wife, Penelope, and did him a favor by inviting Allison. Allison was a beautiful young girl, with dark hair and striking green eyes. Her fair skin had many guards falling for her and pleading with Pete for his daughter’s hand in marriage. However, Pete turned them down, knowing that his wild daughter needed to calm down before she became a wife. What he didn’t know was that Allison had been caught entertaining the Prince in his chambers late at night.
“Try and think positive, ducky,” Bradley said, “You won’t have to do a single thing. No chores, no studies, no filling glasses of wine. You’ll be sitting at high tables with fancy cheeses and wines.”
That part of the deal did sound appealing to you. You had always envied the ladies of the Queen’s court when you’d go to balls with your father. They always had the fanciest dresses, their hair done in neat updos and stylings. You had heard a rumor that they have a feast every night of roasted pig and quail eggs. The King had hired a personal cook from France to make every meal for him and his family.
But even with all the good points Bradley was giving, you were thinking of at least two negatives to each one. The biggest one was losing the person who knew you best. You and Allison were never as close as you and Bradley are. You knew that the second the carriage stopped on the Castle grounds, Bradley would be stopped from following you. He would be pushed away and possibly into the arms of another.
You weren’t sure when the crush on Bradley had started, you think it was around the time that you became a woman. Bradley had always been a dashing man, and he grew into his looks as he got older. He now supported a beard, that helped define his prominent cheekbones. His hair color was lighter now that it was summer, a mix of different color brown curls. You loved his curls, they were always so soft. Your favorite thing was running your fingers through his hair as his head lay in your lap while you read him poetry under the sycamore tree.
And now, those days of laying in the sun with Bradley were gone.
Bradley liked this whole situation almost as much as you did, maybe even a little less. He knew you well enough that you wouldn’t put up a fight. You weren’t as strong-willed as Allison or your father, you were much like your mother. Quiet, and respectful, but could still stand up for yourself when needed. Bradley knew that Pete would try and marry you off if you weren’t already promised to another. He had asked your father for your hand on multiple occasions, telling him that there was no one better than himself to protect and care for you. Pete knew that Bradley was probably right, but he had already made the promise of your hand to the King.
“Bradley,” You said softly, “W-what if I can’t produce an heir?”
Bradley’s eyebrows furrowed at your question, “What do you mean? Don’t you cycle?”
You blushed and nodded, “Yes, but that doesn’t mean anything. What if I can not successfully give the King an heir? A son. . . What if he casts me aside like my poor cousins were by their King.”
You were broken when you received the news about your dear cousins and the fate of their marriage. The accusations of witchcraft, incest, and adultery made your stomach turn. Then knowing of the brutal end they both received, their heads separating from their bodies, kept you awake at night. Bradley had held you as you woke up screaming in terror as the replay of your cousin’s execution played over and over behind your eyes.
“I assure you, ducky, no one will let that happen to you,” Bradley said, squeezing your hand, “No queen has ever-”
“No queen had ever been put to death before Anne either,” You swallowed.
“Y/N,” Bradley said sternly, “The people of Brinefell are fair and just. They won’t allow the King to do something. . . so barbaric. Olivia the Great’s ghost would reign down on him if he did.”
You gave him a small smile as the carriage came to a stop. You felt bile rise in your throat as you peered out and saw the entrance of the Castle. Bradley got out of the carriage first and walked around to your side, opening the door and giving you his arm to help you out. You squeezed his hand as you walked towards the entrance. The castle in real life looked more magnificent than the paintings had depicted. Beautiful white limestone stood at least three stories tall, with black framed windows nearly every three feet. The points of the steeples ascended high into the sky.
A guard had led you and Bradley through the castle, and it was even more gorgeous on the inside. Marble floors where you swore you could see your reflection. High above you were candle chandeliers, the steel made into intricate patterns. Magnificent oil paintings of past rulers are on the wall. The most notable one was that of Queen Olivia, the Great. You felt as though her green eyes were following you as you walked by it. The large windows let in natural light, making the castle look even bigger on the inside.
The guard pushed open a set of doors to a rather large meeting room. You sucked in a breath as you came face to face with nobles, lords, and priests. Your hand squeezed Bradley’s, and he set his free hand on top of your hand. The two of you shared a brief look, and he smiled at you.
In the back of the room, stood two large thrones. You knew what the room was without having to be told. A gorgeous woman was sitting in one of the thrones, clad in the most beautiful purple dress that you had ever seen, and a beautiful crown sat upon her head. The seat next to her was empty, but you still felt the King’s presence in the room.
“Your Majesty, Lady Y/N Mitchell of North Island,” The guard said, introducing you.
You let go of Bradley’s arm and took a step forward, curtseying in front of the Queen, “Your Majesty.”
You kept your head down as you heard the Queen rise from her seat. She stepped down from the throne and walked up to you. You lifted your head and stood to your height. The Queen was even prettier in person; perfectly pale skin, big brown eyes, and dark brown hair that went straight down her back. Even though she was one of the most important women in Brinefell, all your fear had washed away as she smiled at you.
“Y/N,” The Queen said softly, “You are an image of your mother.”
“You knew my mother?”
The Queen gave a soft nod, “That I did. She was a dear friend of mine. The news of her passing upset me, I am so sorry.”
You hardly remembered your mother. She had died in childbirth when you were three. You weren’t sure if the memories you had of her were your own, or if they were adapted from the stories your father and grandparents had told you. But what you did know about your mother, Penelope, was that she was a vision.
Penelope had inherited a century-old gene with beautiful silver-like hair, light blue eyes, and skin that made her look sunkissed. Her beauty went further than just on the outside. She had a heart of gold, spending her time raising her children without the help of nannies (which was rather unheard of), studying philosophy, and writing poetry. Your father had gifted you a couple of her journals when you left for the Landing.
“But let us not dwell on sad times,” The Queen smiled, “We have much to celebrate,” She looked around the room, “Lady Y/N is engaged to my son, The Prince!” The room filled with cheers and applause as you blushed and nodded your head. The Queen held her arm out to you, and you took it, “Come now, child, we have much to discuss.”
You looked over your shoulder at Bradley, who gave you a small nod, “It is okay. I have an appointment with an old friend.”
The Queen looked between the two of you, “Join us for dinner tonight. . .”
“Oh, my regards, your majesty,” Bradley said and bowed to the Queen, “Sir Bradley Bradshaw, of the House Bradshaw.”
“I thought you looked familiar,” The Queen said, “Your father was a brave swordsman. Please, do us the honor and join us for dinner.”
“As the Queen insists. Farwell for now,” Bradley said and took his leave from the room.
You walked arm and arm with the Queen through the halls of the castle. You half listened as she rambled on about certain paintings, or gifts that lined the walls. She talked about her two daughters; Saera and Margeret. Jane was off studying in Earthmoor and Margeret had just had her first child. The Queen also explained a bit more about your impending wedding to her son.
Years ago, when the first battle of the Rebellion started, your father headed the King’s army out of North Island. He took his soldiers to Bearhaven to try and control the rebels. It was supposed to be an easy-fought battle, but the battle had quickly turned bloody. Desperate and out of options, your father wrote to the King begging for his intervention. Brinefell had been in a time of peace & serenity, The King wanted to keep the fighting out of his city as much as he could. Your father knew that writing him would only cause the rebellion to grow if the crown got involved, so your father offered the King your hand in return for help.
“Your wedding was supposed to happen long ago,” The Queen said, as you sat in her chambers, “But the rebellion has expanded and now Argerus is at odds with us.”
“But isn’t the Prince fighting in Argerus? How will he have time to come back and wed?” You asked.
The Queen’s smile fell as she looked down at the cup in her hand, “I’m afraid the rush of the marriage is because of my husband, The King. He is ill, and dying. Because Jake is so young, and because of the past history of young, unwed rulers, the council passed a law that the heir must be wed before they take the throne.”
You knew of the stories of the disastrous reign of King Francis, the current King’s older brother. The council had found King Francis incompetent in his job and removed him. King George was quickly instated and took over the ruling of Brinefell.
“I believe the King wanted to see you,” The Queen said, “He is usually awake at this time. Shall we go see?” You nodded and stood from your chair. The Queen, again, hooked her arm through yours and walked down the hall to the King’s chambers, “Do not let him alarm you, child, his sickness has taken over his body, but his mind is still intact.”
“Yes, your majesty,” You said.
The Queen pushed the door open to her husband’s chambers and the two of you walked inside. The King was laid in bed, a curtain of sheer white cloth surrounding the bed. You could remember that your mother’s bed looked like this only days before her death. It was traditional to have curtains covering the bed of a dying person. A physician had once told you, that dying was hard, brutal work. It wasn’t easy for family members to see their loved one dying, and they believed that the dying deserved some privacy.
“Your majesty,” A man bowed to the Queen as he stood from the side of the bed.
“Sir Cromwell,” The Queen greeted, “How is my dear husband?”
“Awake,” Sir Cromwell said, “He just received morphine, and will retire soon.”
“Is that-” A rumble of a voice sounded out from behind the curtain. Even ill, his voice was still strong and powerful.
You took a step forward and curtseyed for the King, though you knew he probably could not see you, “Your Majesty, it is I, the Lady Mitchell.”
The King let out a small gasp, followed by coughing. Sir Cromwell was right by his side, helping him sit up. He then drew back the white curtains, allowing you to see the King’s face for the first time. The King looked pale, his blonde hair was thin on top. But his eyes, oh those eyes, ever so powerful and green, just like Queen Olivia’s were in her painting.
“Please, Sir Cromwell, help me out of bed,” The King said. Both Sir Cromwell and the Queen rushed to his side. She grabbed her husband’s legs and helped swing them over the side of the bed, while Sir Cromwell helped the King sit up. You stood back and watched as they helped the ailing King stand to his feet. The Queen wrapped her arm around his waist and put one of his around her shoulders.
“Where to, my King?” The Queen asked.
“Anywhere you lead me, my love,” The King said to his wife. The Queen blushed and patted his chest, before leading him to a chair in the sitting area of his chambers. Once the King was sat in his chair, the Queen moved about, fixing his pillows and putting a blanket over his lap. She lifted his feet so Sir Cromwell could slide a footrest underneath them.
“My Queen, you do too much for me,” The King grabbed her hand to stop her fretting.
“My job is to serve you, my King,” The Queen kissed her husband’s forehead, before taking a step back and curtseying for him, “I will leave you to do your business, your majesty,” She stepped back, allowing you to take a step forward and sit in the chair beside the King.
The King shifted in his chair, and you turned your head towards him, “She worries too much.”
“A good wife ought to worry,” You said and the King nodded in agreement, “My mother used to worry for my father when he was away at battle. I remember her praying and writing all the time. She waited on him even on her death bed.”
“A wife’s job is never easy,” The King said, “I find her job more strenuous than mine. A King is nothing without his Queen. She is the true bearer of the Crown and its legacy. I can not continue on without her, and my son without you.”
You let the King’s words wash over you. The realization of what your role meant finally hit you. Your marriage to the Prince went further than just repaying a debt to the Crown. You were needed to create a legacy not only for the Prince but for your family as well. Your father had no sons, his legacy ends when he dies. A son would mean the house Mitchell lives on after your father dies. A son would mean the crown carries on.
“I understand, your majesty,” You said and took the King’s hand, “I promise I will do all I can to assure the Crown stays with your kin. I promise to do my role for you and your Prince, as well as my father.”
The King nodded his head, “I know you will, Princess.” A flash of pride filled your chest at the mention of your new title, “Now, I hear you are skilled with a bow and arrow, tell me about it.” You chuckled and started in on your training with the weapon.
— — —
Jake was tired. As soon as Master Brook left his tent the other night, he packed up his saddlebags and travel all the way back to Landing Center. He had hoped that he wasn’t too late, that his father hadn’t passed before he could come and speak to him. Jake felt relief when he rode into Landing Center and saw his father’s colors still flying in the wind.
When he arrived, he was met with his father’s most trusted confidants at the gate. Master Moore was his brother-in-law, the King’s hand, and Lord Floyd. Jake didn’t really care for Master Moore. The man had been trying to get Jake removed from the line of succession and reinstate his uncle, Francis instead.
“Robert!” Jake shouts as he dismounts his horse, “Oh how I missed you!” Bob rolls his eyes as he took a step forward and greeted the Prince, “Where is the cake and party? The Prince has returned!”
“Our apologies, your majesty,” Master Moore said, “Maybe if you weren’t returning to see your dying father, we would’ve had cake and whores.” Jake glared at the man as he took off his riding gloves and handed the reigns of his horse to one of the keepers. Bob could sense the tension between the two of them and stepped in the middle.
“Your mother would like to see you,” Bob said, “In her chambers.” Jake nodded and headed to her, but not before sending another glare toward Master Moore. The man returned Jake’s icy stare before turning to Lord Floyd.
Jake smiled politely at his mother’s ladies as he walked into her room. The Queen was by the fireplace, sewing probably a new shirt for the King. One of the ladies whispered in her ear, and she turned to see her only son standing in her room. She smiled and rose from her seat, going to hug him, but stopped short.
“My dear son,” The Queen frowned, licking her thumb and wiping away some dirt on Jake’s cheek, “Do you ever take a bath?”
Jake smirked, “Yes, but cleansing myself is not what I do in them.”
“Oh Gods,” The Queen shook her head. She walked back over to her chair by the fireplace and took a seat, Jake took one across from her. A servant placed a tray of fruits and cheeses in between them, as well as two cups of wine. The Queen thanked the servant and picked up one of the glasses, taking a sip of the red liquid. “Have you seen your father?”
“No,” Jake answered, “Was met at the gate by Robert and that cunt Moore-”
“Master,” The Queen corrected, “Master Moore.”
“He is a cunt,” Jake said, “He has only one loyalty and that is to the bastard Francis-”
“Prince!” The Queen corrected again, “Act as though you are the son of the King, please.”
Jake rolled his eyes, “Yes mother.”
“You must see him, but please, take a bath first, you smell of blood and shit,” The Queen cursed and Jake laughed. The only time he ever heard her curse was when he was with her. She held herself to the highest standard, being the Queen consort. It was refreshing to drop her facade and be herself with her children. Not many can say they’ve seen the Queen drunk and racing knights in the garden, “You also will be meeting your new wife tonight.”
“Ah, so it is true,” Jake sat back in his chair, spreading his legs. The Queen scoffed and kicked his knee. He laughed as he crossed his leg over the other, “Betrothed to Mistress Mitchell? Doesn’t she lay in bed with Lord Bradshaw.”
His mother gasped, “Jacob,” He shrugged and looked over at her, “It is unbecoming of a prince to talk about his future bride in such a way.”
“She will not be a true Queen if she comes from the bed of another man. All the heirs spawned will be true bas-” He was cut off by a sharp kick to his knee, “Ow!”
“You should be glad I didn’t strike you with my hand,” The Queen pointed. Jake suddenly remembered why they called her the ‘Fire Queen’. She could get quite the temper sometimes, “The Lady Mitchell is untouched and does not lay in the bed of another. You will marry her and make strong heirs to the throne.”
Jake grumbled and picked up a cherry, biting it off the stem and popping it in his mouth, “I have something I must admit though,” He said, a smirk on his lips as he sat up, sticking the stem in his mouth, “I know her sister.”
The Queen narrowed her eyes at her son, “In what regards?”
“Intimately,” He pulled the now-knotted cherry stem out of his mouth.
“Oh Gods,” The Queen shook her head. She stood up from her chair and grabbed her bible. She didn’t say another word as she left her chambers but Jake knew she was more than likely going to the chapel to pray.
— — —
Jake had listened to his mother and took a bath as she had asked. It felt good to finally bathe in warm water instead of having to find a creak. He washed his hair with sweet-smelling soaps and oils. He made sure to scrub his hands, getting all traces of blood off of them. In battle, Jake tried his best to not get his hands bloody, but sometimes it was inevitable.
His green eyes trained on the reddened skin as memories of battle flooded his mind. The screams of brave men, scared women and terrified children filtered into his mind. He told his men to try and leave the women and children unharmed, but occasionally they would get in the way. Jake had held one too many wives back as their husband’s heads were cut off for disobeying the crown.
Leaning back in the bathtub, Jake looked at the ceiling. Could he even be a good husband with all the things he had seen? His father had never been to war, he had never seen the terrors that were out there. Could Jake be the husband that he was supposed to be when he has killed? Could someone even look at him and want to lay in bed with him? Jake was a murderer, he was not a good man. How was he supposed to raise sons to be good men?
“Your grace,” His servant called for him. Jake looked over the side of the tub, “It is time to dress you.” Jake sighed and nodded, climbing out of the tub.
He got dressed in his traditional evening dinner wear; a black and gold tunic, black pants, and boots. He made sure to shave his face, knowing how his mother hated facial hair. Jake chuckled to himself as he shaved in the mirror his servant held.
“First rule I am making as King; I get to have a beard,” Jake said, rinsing the shaving blade.
“Yes, your grace,” The servant said.
When Jake was shaved, dressed and the formal crown had been placed on his head, he grabbed his sword and headed to his father’s chambers. Various lords, ladies, and noblemen bowed to him as he passed through the halls. The great hall was going to be full as a crowd was gathering to celebrate the Prince’s new engagement. Jake would much rather slice his own throat than have to dance in front of people he didn’t even know.
“He is unruly,” Jake heard his mother’s voice as he approached his father’s chambers. He furrowed his eyebrows and everso quietly stepped into the room. He hid behind a drape, as his mother kneeled before his father who sat in a chair, “I worry how he will treat her.”
Jake looked down at his shoes, feeling a pang of hurt in his heart. He knew he wasn’t always the nicest, or the most thoughtful, but he believed he would make a good husband. He could be respectful when he needed to be. He knew that this whole marriage was nothing more than a business transaction. Jake could turn on his flirtatious side, send this girl a few smiles, and make her feel good in bed so she could carry his heirs.
“He is my son,” Jake lifted his head up at the sound of his father’s weak voice. He had only been gone a month, and his father had deteriorated so quickly, “He will treat her well.” Jake cleared his throat, as he stepped around the drape he was hiding behind. The King’s face lit up as he walked in. Jake bowed to his father and mother, before taking the chair next to him.
“How was Argerus?”
“Brutal,” Jake answered, “Not sure if Mother wants to hear of my conquests.”
“No, she does not,” The Queen stood up, “I shall see you at dinner. My King,” The Queen curtseyed before them both and left the room.
Jake sighs and looks at his dad. The King was sick before he sent Jake to fight in Argerus, now, it was amazing that he was even still alive. His color was gone, he looked like a gust of wind could break his bones, and his eyes were half open. Suddenly, Jake felt sick as he realized he was about to take over for his father ruling the country. There was still so much that he didn’t know.
“I can hear your thoughts,” The King said barely above a whisper, gaining his son’s attention, “Speak them.”
“I don’t know if I am ready,” Jake mumbled, “There are lots I do not know yet. You have more to teach-”
The King held his hand up, “My job has been done, Jacob. You know all you need.” Jake scoffed, shaking his head. He went to stand up, but the King reached his hand out. Jake took it without hesitation, “You know more. . . than you know. . . You need. . . trust.”
“If you say in Master-”
“In her.”
“Her?”
“Your Queen.”
Jake furrowed his eyebrows and opened to ask his father what he means, but the King fell into a fit of coughs. Jake’s heart started racing as he stood from his chair and helped his father lean forward. He rubbed the King’s back as he continued coughing, grimacing as he noticed pink droplets landing on the white blanket in front of him. Sir Cromwell entered the room and walked to the King.
“Your majesty, we must get you to bed,” Sir Cromwell said. The King didn’t put up a fight as servants flanked his side to help him up. Jake watched helplessly as they carried the man that was once larger than life to bed. He waited until they had him tucked into bed, looking even smaller and frailer than he did earlier.
Jake walked to his bedside, running his hand over his father’s hair, “Thank you, my King,” He pressed a kiss to his father’s forehead, before leaving his father to rest.
taglist: @cherrycola27 @itsmytimetodream @yanna-banana @laneylovesglen @elijahmikaelsonbitch @desert-fern @callsignharper @prettiewittie @hangmanscoming @damrlova @captainmoonknight @jazminlahey20 @bradshawseresinbabe @rebellionofthetoys @seitmai @xoxabs88xox @princess76179 @clancycucumber230 @soulmates8 @dempy @starberryhorse @kmc1989 @thedroneranger @loving-and-dreaming @whatisloveavy @memeorydotcom @shanimallina87 @phoenix1388 @mygyn @topgun-imagines @bradleybeachbabe @na-ta-sh-aa @startrekfangirl2233 @atarmychick007 @lunamoonbby @sophiaslastbraincell @bradswolfe @fandom-princess-forevermore @angelbabyange @lovelywiseprincess @krismdavis @eternallyvenus @dakotakazansky @pono-pura-vida @callsignartemis @daggersquadphantom @gspenc
#top gun#top gun fan fic#top gun fanfiction#top gun imagine#top gun au#top gun maverick#top gun maverick fan fiction#top gun maverick fan fic#top gun maverick imagine#jake sersin imagine#jake seresin#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin fic#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin x you#jake seresin x y/n#jake seresin x oc#jake hangman seresin#hangman seresin#hangman#hangman fan fic#hangman fan fiction#hangman imagine#hangman x you#hangman x reader#hangman x y/n#hangman x oc#bradley bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster bradshaw
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heyyyy!! might seem random and I don’t know if you listen to Lana Del Rey at all so feel free to ignore me, but if you do, what are some of her songs that you associate with Oscar’s characters (like Poe, Llewyn, Miguel, Rydal, the Moon boys... whatever, I’m not picky). Love your work btw!
dear anon, you are in luck, you have no idea how much.
I don't listen to lana that much, I do listen to a few songs and appreciate her work but my dear best friend @eatingyouryoung happens to have the oscar + lana brainrot cocktail
when I asked her for help to answer this ask, she happened to have already thought about this and sent me a 5 pages long document she had written about the subject, so there you go:
Llewyn:
In My Feelings
Brooklyn Baby
« Could it be that I fell for another loser
I'm crying while I'm cummin'
Making love while I'm making good money
Sobbin' in my cup of coffee
'Cause I fell for another loser
Get that cigarette smoke out of my face
You've been wasting my time
While you're taking what's mine, with the things that you're doing
Talk that talk, well now they all know your name
And there's no coming back from the place that you came
Baby don't do it
'Cause you got me in my feelings (catch you, it's so much right now)
Talking in my sleep again (you can whistle if you want) »
Rydal:
« Well, my boyfriend's in a band
He plays guitar while I sing Lou Reed
I've got feathers in my hair
I get down to Beat poetry
And my jazz collection's rare
I can play most anything
I'm a Brooklyn baby »
« They say I'm too young to love you
They say I'm too dumb to see
They judge me like a picture book
By the colors, like they forgot to read
I think we're like fire and water
I think we're like the wind and sea
You're burnin' up, I'm coolin' down
You're up, I'm down
You're blind, I see »
California
Lucky Ones
« I shouldn't have done it, but I read it in your letter
You said to a friend that you wish you were doing better
I wanted to call you, but I didn't say a thing
Oh, I'll pick you up
If you come back to America, just hit me up »
« You don't ever have to be stronger than you really are
When you're lying in my arms, and, honey
You don't ever have to act cooler than you think you should
You're brighter than the brightest stars
You're scared to win, scared to lose
I've heard the war was over if you really choose
The one in and around you
You hate the heat, you got the blues
Changing like the weather, oh, that's so like you »
Santiago:
« Boy, get into my car, got a bad desire
You know that we'll never leave if we don't get out now, now, now
You're a careless con and you're a crazy liar, but, baby
Nobody can compare to the way you get down, down, down
I tried so hard to act nice like a lady
You taught me that it was good to be crazy
Every now and then, the stars align
Boy and girl meet by the great design
Could it be that you and me are the lucky ones?
Everybody told me love was blind
Then I saw your face and you blew my mind
Finally, you and me are the lucky ones this time »
On Our Way
Poe:
« Why do I think too much?
You tell me not to worry
Because you're the boss
And you, you got a real good plan
My trouble's all over now
Because you're my man
You don't know what you've done to me
You're heavier than heavenly
Life on the run has set me free, me free now
We're on our way »
Love Song
Miguel:
« Dream a dream, here's a scene
Touch me anywhere 'cause I'm your baby
Grab my waist, don't waste any part
I believe that you see me for who I am
So spill my clothes on the floor of your new car
Is it safe, is it safe to just be who we are? »
Black Beauty
Marc:
« I paint my nails black
I dye my hair a darker shade of brown
'Cause you like your women Spanish, dark, strong and proud
I paint the sky black
You said if you could have your way
You'd make it nighttime all today
So it'd suit the mood with your soul
Oh, what can I do?
Nothing, my sparrow blue
Oh, what can I do?
Life is beautiful, but you don't have a clue
Sun and ocean blue
Their magnificence, it don't make sense to you »
Say Yes to Heaven
Jake:
« If you dance, I'll dance
And if you don't, I'll dance anyway
Give peace a chance
Let the fear you have fall away
I've got my eye on you »
Honeymoon
Steven:
« There are violets in your eyes
There are guns that blaze around you
There are roses in between my thighs
And a fire that surrounds you
It's no wonder every man in town
Had neither fought nor found you
Everything you do is elusive
To even your honey dew »
Prom Song (Gone Wrong)
Nathan:
« Boy, it's late, walk me home, put your hand in mine
At the gate, stop and say, "be my valentine"
You are, by far, the brightest star
I've ever seen, and I never dreamed
I'd be so happy that I could die
You used to say that I was beautiful like Cleopatra
But you the king too, so I would say, "back at ya"
I flip my hair and make you stare and put my makeup on
And make up stories 'bout my life and put on very cherry bomb
And even then, I knew that we were something serious
That you would dominate my thoughts like radio to Sirius »
Pretty When You Cry
Blue:
« All those special times I spent with you, my love
They don't mean shit compared to all your drugs
But I don't really mind, I've got much more than that
Like my memories, I don't need that
I'll wait for you, babe, you don't come through, babe
You never do, babe, that's just what you do
Because I'm pretty when I cry »
Dealer
Jonathan:
« I check it, I wreck it, I turn it around
I gave you all my money, gave you all my money
Gave you all my money, gave you all my money
I don't wanna live
I don't wanna give you nothing
'Cause you never give me nothing back
Why can't you be good for something?
Not one shirt off your back
Why can't you be good for something?
Not one shirt off your back »
Young and Beautiful
Leto:
« Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?
Will you still love me when I got nothing but my aching soul?
I know you will, I know you will, I know that you will
Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?
Dear Lord, when I get to Heaven
Please let me bring my man
When he comes, tell me that you'll let him in
Father, tell me if you can
All that grace, all that body
All that face makes me wanna party
He's my sun, he makes me shine like diamonds »
National Anthem
here you go :))
« I'm your national anthem
God, you're so handsome
Take me to the Hamptons, Bugatti Veyron
He loves to romance 'em, reckless abandon
Holding me for ransom, upper echelon
He says to be cool but, I don't know how yet
Wind in my hair, hand on the back of my neck
I said, "Can we party later on?"
He said, "Yes, yes, yes" »
#moon knight#marc spector#steven grant#jake lockley#poe dameron#llewyn davis#jonathan levy#rydal keener#santiago garcia#blue jones#nathan bateman#miguel o'hara#leto atreides#marc spector x reader#steven grant x reader#jake lockley x reader#poe dameron x reader#jonathan levy x reader#santiago garcia x reader#miguel o'hara x reader#blue jones x reader#nathan bateman x reader#oscar isaac#oscar isaac characters#lana del rey#jane answers
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The Windows95manifesto: In defense of Finland's performance for 2024
Happy first rehearsal week everyone!
The first wave of rehearsals is done, and with it, we have gotten a wave of comments about the performances. Some filled with praise and approval, but some others completely hateful and rude. And today I'm going to talk to you about this second kind of comments about one of this year's controversial entry: Finland's "No Rules!" by Windows95man (Teemu Keisteri) ft. Henri Piispanen.
Many people have said that this entry is a joke, or that it doesn't deserve to be in Eurovision because it's distasteful. But here I am, in defense of uniqueness and weirdness, not only because this entry is in my top 5 this year, but also because it's important to understand what "art" is about. Here's to all the "weird" Eurovision entries that have been called unworthy of stepping on stage because they've been misunderstood.
A special shoutout to @/tottakaibi on Twitter/X because she gave me one of the pointers for this article in particular! And she's constantly in the lookout for Teemu and Henri's projects.
Without further ado, step in and enjoy the read.
No Rules! is, undoubtedly, the most distruptive entry this year - the nudity, fast-paced music and unique mise-en-scene, all make for an entry that many have deemed nonpalatable or not artistic. But behind every art display, there is a story, and I'm here to tell you a little bit more about it.
To start, the staging of No Rules! refers to the Kalevala, a book of finnish folk poetry from the 19th century that contains the myth of creation: Earth was born from an egg, with the shells forming both sky and land. Goddess Ilmatar, mother of nature and creation, soon realized that whatever she touched would grow and her every move was an act of creation itself. And so, she gave birth to Väinämönen, the first man to ever walk upon Earth.
Teemu arising from an egg is a clear reference to the Kalevala myth of creation, and he's even referred to it in some way in a video recently posted by UMK, in which he tells the tale of how Windows95man was born and Henri, in the figure of an eagle, becomes his friend so he can walk on the rule-burdened Earth without caring much for the impositions. It's both a mythical reference and a song of liberation: to not care about what others think and what others say to live freely and happily. To disregard societal "rules" in order to pursue happiness (this, of course, in the sense that you shouldn't care about "neat" or "appropriate", and not about the lack of order).
This song has also been called an anthem of liberation for LGBTQ+ members: No Rules! refers to the absence of gender norms ("Quiet, as I speak / I am the king, I am the queen" // "Is there something wrong with the way I look? / Is there something wrong with who I am?") and to live your life expressing yourself in the way you deem the best fit for you. As an agender person who's constantly told what to wear, what to say and how to act, this song is very meaningful and close to me. It makes me feel a bit better about my identity.
Now, to the point that interests you the most - how can No Rules! be considered an artistic performance, with the disruptive elements that make many shriek in disgust?
Let's begin with this - art is subjective and it's meant to make you feel something, whether good or bad. Art is meant to move something inside you, to make you question things. Have not many artists in the past made paintings about poor people's lives to protest poor living conditions or to showcase how hard it was to get on by? To many, art forms like paintings and sculptures that we now consider artistic were once considered scandalous or distasteful. This is the exact point of this performance.
In a recent documentary called "No Shame", Teemu referred to this - the point of his art is to appeal to disgust, to weirdness and to what makes you question what's tasteful or not. Shock factor also plays an important part in modern art performances. It's about going into the raw parts of your psyche and make you uncomfortable.
Teemu has been a visual artist since 2008, under the name Ukkeli. Vibrant colors, strange outfits and drawings, uncovered butts as part of his art installations and the message "No Rules" as one of his oldest mottos (not surprising, considering that in an interview he said he grew up with hippie parents that were very permissive) are the main features of his work. It's reminiscent of early 2000's adult animation shows, who also had a big shock factor and were frowned upon back then.
In this appeal to weirdness resides the charm of Windows95man's performance - in making you feel uncomfortable and weird, you're proving the exact point of the song. You will be bitter about how Finland could've "sent something better", but that won't change the fact that Teemu and Henri were chosen by his people because they understood the art beyond the shocking display. They understood what living with no rules means, to embrace weirdness, to embrace unique, and not care about what others say. If it makes you feel happy, who says that you're not allowed to like or pursue it?
Let's take a look back - Go_A's Shum, who was also catalogued as weird due to Kateryna's bewitching voice and vocalizations, made it to 5th place with no problem in 2021. Zdob si Zdub & Advahov Brothers' Trenulețul 2022 got to number 7 in 2022, after being called disruptive noise, and Konstrakta's In Corpore Sano made it to 5th place even when it was called creepy by some. Mama ŠČ! by Let3 made it to an impressive 12th place last year, and 3rd place in Dora this year with their strange Baba Roga.
If every country sent the same cookie-cutter type of "safe" song to Eurovision, the contest would be very repetitive and monotone. Let's face it, the public loves unique, loves something that will blow your hats off for three minutes and wondering what happened. They love songs that go off the "normal" standard because it takes you for a trip and makes you jump off your seat. It's no wonder that, in contrast with No Rules! getting so much hate, along with Doomsday Blue (another of the misunderstood entries, reduced only to its wrongly called "satanistic" character), 5Miinust and Puulup seem to be favorites this year, along with Joost Klein, who is rumored to win. People either love or hate weird and unique. Sadly, Finland got the worst end of the stick, and I think that's very unfair.
There's also the double standard, many think that it's inappropriate for Teemu to show up in nude-colored underwear, but they had no problem with female contestants in revealing outfits in previous years. Here's the thing - it's either okay for everyone to wear revealing outfits, or it's not. The argument that 2022's Chanel is given a pass to wearing revealing clothes because "she's a sexy girl speaking about being sexy" is invalid. Beauty, much like art, is subjective. And I do think that Teemu is very beautiful. He is allowed to wear what he wants (of course, according to EBU's standards, and they seem to have approved of the performance as is) and you don't get to say what's tasteful or not based off an aesthetic standard settled in sexism.
To finish this off, let me sum up the most important points of my mini-essay: No Rules! is an artistic performance because it's disruptive, it has elements that refer to Finnish myths and it's a liberation anthem that is meant to reach all those who feel like being themselves is wrong, to make them forget about this world's standards for three minutes and remember that the only person they need to please is themselves. As such, this song accomplishes its goal perfectly and beautifully. To call Teemu and Henri's performance a joke is to bypass every element of its artistry and to insult the artist standing on stage. Finland chose them, and so we must respect their decision and refrain from sending hateful comments.
I do think that we need to keep high hopes for this performance. I know that the two of them will go beyond everything we know and expect and will blow us all away when the Semifinal 1 comes in May 7th. After all, Henri's vocal skills have improved greatly since UMK, and Teemu's charisma can only grow by the second. These two have everything to go far and to show everyone that sometimes, all you need is to not listen to your surroundings and act as your heart commands.
Sometimes, the only rule is no rules.
#eurovision#eurovision 2024#esc 2024#esc24#no rules#windows95man#teemu keisteri#henri piispanen#get this guys to top 5 asap#finland#umk
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