#trying to decide what to play before shifting into chores n music later..
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lol i'm on the steam community page for Ori and the BlindForest
#trying to decide what to play before shifting into chores n music later..#idr if the ending on this one made me cry but ig I left a review and Really liked this lmao#now the SECOND ONE though! the ending absolutely had me in tears and goosebumps etc etc it was soooo good#and ir the transition from the first to How Much you could do in the second one was a lil overwhelming but like#it was a fantastic game#as a series it's just really good 🥺 i looove metroidvania games
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Piss Off Your Parents - Part 1
Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu
Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren't a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner's 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none
Song → 18 by Anarbor
A/N: if you couldn’t already tell, I have planned this as a series/full story. I was torn between writing it on here or on Wattpad or something, but ultimately decided on Tumblr . . . but let me know if you would prefer it on another platform as well! Also, this series will eventually include smut/NSFW content but that will be tagged appropriately when the time comes. As always, I hope you enjoy.
Next →Part 2
Slamming the front door behind yourself on your way out that morning, you quickly stuffed your earbuds into your ears and cranked your music as loud as you could to drown out the sounds of your parents yelling after you and, consequently, at one another after you had dropped the bomb about your new job on them seconds before you had left, giving them as little time as possible to shame you for it.
After graduating high school and turning 18, you had decided it was time to take your life into your hands, which wasn’t too easy while you were still living under your parents’ roof, but you had to start somewhere and that somewhere was getting a job at the local corner store, Sakanoshita Market.
You knew that your parents wanted you to go to university and ‘make something of yourself’, but you also knew that you could never truly be happy under their dictatorship-like ruling, so you decided to get a job, no matter how shitty, save your money, move out as soon as possible, and go from there.
It was definitely going to be a process, and not an easy one, but all you had to do was take it one step at a time.
Rounding the corner and seeing the market in the distance, you felt your nerves begin to bubble inside of you a little. Sure, you had gotten some part-time jobs here and there during summer vacation before, but you had never gotten a full-time job before and had never needed the money from a job like you did now. Before, the cash you made was for extra spending money during the summer and school year, but now the money you would be making would be funding your future. It seemed like a lot of pressure to put on a job that entailed stocking shelves, checking out customers, and cleaning.
The lady who had hired you had basically explained that since she was getting older and her son, who had been maintaining the place previously, had gotten a new job, the store needed someone to learn the ropes and take care of the place on a daily basis; and since you were young, a fast learner, and didn’t have anything else in your life besides work, you were a perfect fit.
As the shop doors slid open smoothly to welcome you into the store you had been inside countless times in the past, you suddenly felt completely out of place in the familiar market. Now that you were an employee instead of a customer, the atmosphere had completely shifted. Instead of heading right for the fridges to grab a drink like you usually did, your eyes shifted immediately to the front counter where a figure with its feet up hid behind an open newspaper.
Just like every other time you had visited while the store owner’s son was working, he did everything humanly possible to avoid interaction. Usually, you would have appreciated not being bothered while trying to scan the shelves, but since this time was different, the lack of acknowledgement was slightly unnerving.
“Ahem,” you cleared your throat, hoping it was enough to catch his attention. It was not. Instead, he flipped the page of the newspaper and you watched as a hand emerged from behind the paper barrier to flick the ashes from his cigarette into an ashtray sitting beside the register.
Eyebrows furrowed, you really wished that the shop owner herself had been there to greet you for your first day instead of her seemingly useless son. “Hello.” You stepped up to the counter, the feeling of not belonging sinking deeper into your bones.
Slowly, the newspaper separating you from the man behind the counter lowered and the shop owner’s son glared back at you, eyes half-lidded as if he were seconds away from falling asleep and the cigarette from before hanging from his bottom lip. This was far from the first time you had interacted with him, but you would be surprised if he remembered you as a customer even a little. Whenever he checked customers out, you could tell he was running on autopilot.
The man’s eyes drifted down to your hands, which were resting on top of the counter now. Noticing you didn’t have anything to purchase, he cocked a brow. “Need help finding somethin’?”
“Ugh, no,” you answered. “I’m the new employee. I’m supposed to start today.”
His eyes scanned you once more, this time more thoroughly, and you swallowed hard. Feeling as if you were being observed under a microscope, you slid your hands off of the counter and stuffed them into your pockets self-consciously.
As he inspected you inch by inch, you took the time to take a closer look at him as well. With dyed blonde hair, two earrings in his left ear, an apparent nicotine addiction, and a noticeably flippant attitude toward his job, he was the definition of the type of man your parents would kill you for bringing home. Somehow, this only made him more intriguing. You wondered if he really was as disinterested in everything as he seemed or if it was just this job he thoroughly hated and became someone a lot more interesting when he wasn’t behind a counter.
“How old are you?” he asked out of the blue, catching you off guard a little. While he waited for you to answer, he set the newspaper to the side, dragged his feet from the counter top, and patted out some of the wrinkles from the white apron he had tied around his bright orange sweatshirt.
“I’m 18,” you responded, not sure why it mattered but also not seeing any harm in answering honestly.
Seconds later, the door to the back of the shop and storage room opened and the familiar face of the woman who had hired you stepped into view. “Oh, Y/N!” she greeted happily; much more enthusiastically and welcoming than her son. “Sorry about that, I was just getting some last minute things together.” She eyed her son out of the corner of her eye and noted the fresh embers in the ashtray. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”
“No, I just got here,” you told her.
“Good.” She smiled sweetly before turning to her son. “Well, you can head out now, Keishin. Thank you for watching the counter.”
“Yeah,” the man, Keishin, grunted as he untied the apron from around his waist, slipped it over his head, and hung it up on a hook behind the counter. “See ya.”
With that, Keishin left, leaving you and his mother alone. Wasting no time, Mrs. Sakanoshita, whom the store was named after, got right to work on teaching you the basics and gifting you with a white apron of your own to wear while on the job. Since it was the middle of the day and the customer flow was relatively slow, she introduced you to how the register and scanner at the counter worked before moving on to unpacking boxes.
Just like you had promised on your resume and during the interview, you were a quick learner and Mrs. Sakanoshita was more than pleased to see you picking up the job quickly and efficiently.
By the time the after work/school rush of patrons picking up items on their way home had begun, you were feeling confident in your abilities and, with your boss by your side to answer any questions you may have, you checked out customer after customer, building up muscle memory for scanning items, collecting cash, opening the register, handing out receipts, and sending customers on their merry way.
All in all, the job was quickly growing on you. You liked the fact that, for the most part, you were the only employee on duty, so when there weren’t any customers in the store, you could work silently on unpacking boxes without having to worry about making small talk or being friendly with any coworkers. In fact, as far as you knew, the only people who worked at the store at all were you, Mrs. Sakanoshita, and her son, Keishin.
It seemed as though you had really landed a sweet gig.
After showing you how to lock up, Mrs. Sakanoshita headed home for the night, leaving you to finish stocking the shelves and cleaning the shop before you would head home as well.
Now that you were truly the only person left, you walked over to the old radio you had spotted on the counter during training that day and fiddled with the dials, trying to get some music playing to accompany you during your evening chores. After some careful handiwork and enduring some horrendous static and high-pitched screeching while searching for a station, you settled on what sounded like some old instrumental music and got to work on stocking the remaining shelves.
Throughout your shift, you quickly learned that the store got quite warm during the day and you had needed to tie your hair up to keep the back of your neck from dripping with sweat. The night wasn’t much better either, especially since the lack of customers so late meant that the doors rarely opened, keeping the cold night air outside and the warm store air inside.
After finishing the last box of supplies, you exhaled and wiped your brow. You were exhausted, that was for sure, but you still had to sweep.
Deciding to take a quick break, you turned toward the floor-to-ceiling fridges at the back of the shop and pulled open the door, sighing happily when the cool air hit your skin. Exhaling slowly, you snickered when you saw your breath fog up in front of you face.
“You’re letting all the cold air out.”
You shrieked when you heard a voice in your right ear and slammed the fridge door shut, jumping back in the process. Thanks to the music from the radio and the loud hum of the generator that kept the fridges cold, you hadn’t heard the front doors slide open or the footsteps of Keishin approaching you.
“Jesus!” You clamped your hand over your chest. “You scared the shit out of me!”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Sorry?”
“What are you doing here?”
Keishin glared at you. “You work here one day and suddenly act like you own the place?”
Realizing how rude your question had come across, you composed yourself and rephrased. “What I meant was, your mom didn’t say you were coming back.”
Pointing upward, Keishin sighed, disinterested. “I live in the apartment above the shop.”
“Oh.” Things started making much more sense and you suddenly felt pretty embarrassed for how you had reacted.
“Yeah . . . oh.” He rolled his eyes, but it didn’t come across necessarily rude but more like he was exhausted and you were adding to said exhaustion. “Why were you standing with the door open anyway?”
As he spoke, he stepped toward you. At first, your feet felt cemented to the floor and you didn’t move. But when he persisted closer, you eventually stumbled back and Keishin opened the fridge door you had been standing in front of to grab a beer from inside. With drink in hand, he eyed you once again, waiting for an answer.
“It’s really hot,” you said, gesturing to his orange sweater. “I don’t know how you wear that thing in here.”
Looking down at his apparel, he just shrugged. “You’ll get used to it.” He turned and started for the counter, presumably to pay for the drink he had just taken. “In the future, stand outside if you’re warm.”
“Okay.” You nodded, mindlessly tailing him. You had to grab the broom from behind the counter anyway, but that was the furthest thing from the front of your mind at that moment. If anything, you were still trying to calm down a little from being startled and now being alone with your boss’s son. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” He popped the tab on the beer, settled into the stool behind the counter, and downed at least half of the drink in a few large gulps.
You watched him, probably a little too closely, and as you did you found yourself reexamining the features you had taken note of earlier that day: the dyed blonde hair held out of his face with a thin black headband, the natural brown hair that peeked out from the roots, the two small silver hoop earrings in his left ear, the scent of cigarette smoke that clung to him like how the smell of rain clung to the air after a heavy storm.
Noticing your gaze, which would have been nearly impossible to miss, Keishin quirked a brow at you and held out the can of beer toward you. “You want a sip?”
Startled from your thoughts, you shook your head. “I’m only 18.” You reminded him.
“Oh, right.” He withdrew the can and took another sip, this one much smaller than the first few. “Then why are you looking at me like that?”
Eyes wide, you thought quick to come up with an excuse. “The broom.” You pointed to the item behind him. “Can you pass me the broom?”
After handing you the broom, Keishin pulled a slip of paper and a pen out from his pocket and started writing and scribbling things down, sipping the remainder of his beer occasionally and ignoring you completely.
Trying to avoid staring at Keishin anymore than you already had, you started sweeping at the far end of the store and left the area around and behind the counter for last. Eventually, though, you had worked your way back over to the the silent man and was forced to clean the floor behind where he was sitting, trying hard not to disturb him.
Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of what he was so focused on; it looked like a crude drawing of a volleyball court. “What’s that?” you asked, the words leaving your mouth before you realized you were being rude again and snooping.
Keishin, however, didn’t seem angry or annoyed in the slightest. “Volleyball positions,” he huffed. It was clear he was growing frustrated.
“You play volleyball?”
He shook his head and looked over his shoulder at you. “I used to. Now I coach the boy’s team at Karasuno.”
“I went to Karasuno,” you said mindlessly, just trying to make conversation at that point.
He hummed in response and turned his attention back to the sheet before him. “Did you play volleyball?”
“No. Soccer.”
“Do you still play?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Do you still play volleyball?”
“With a neighbourhood association sometimes . . . but not really.”
“Why?”
The corners of his mouth curling up into a smirk, Keishin looked back to you once more. “I asked you first.”
“It’s not a good answer.” You leaned against the broom handle and sighed. “Don’t have the time.”
“You’re young and just graduated high school. You’ve got nothing but time.”
“Not with this job.”
Keishin scoffed, folded the paper, and shoved it back into his pocket with the pen. “Speaking of which, why would you take such a boring job at a store like this?”
You just shrugged. “I need the money.”
“Don’t you live with your parents?”
“That’s the problem,” you said, noticing the confusion on his face. “I told you it wasn’t a good answer.”
“Do they know you work here?”
“Do they know? Yes,” you answered truthfully. “Do they like it? Absolutely not.”
Keishin grinned at that before finishing his beer and tossing the empty can into the recycling bin beside the front door. “So you’re one of those teens, huh?”
You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Trust me, kid, pissing off your parents just for the sake of it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
“You think I’m doing all this just because I can?”
“Aren’t you?”
“No.”
“Why then?”
“That story’s too long and convoluted for me to recite right now . . . especially to some old dude I just met today.”
Keishin chuckled under his breath, hands stuffed into his pockets as he headed for the door at the back of the shop so he could head upstairs to his apartment. “’Old dude’,” he repeated, clearly amused. “Don’t forget to lock up before you go home.”
As he turned his back to you, your curiosity got the better of you. “How old are you?”
Stopping in his tracks, Keishin pulled out a carton of cigarettes from his pants’ pocket along with a lighter. After placing the smoke between his lips, he lit it and inhaled deeply. “Too old for you, sweetheart,” he spoke while exhaling, smoke spilling from his lips as he smirked at you.
With that, he disappeared into the back. You wanted to shout after him that you had told him how old you were without hesitation when he had asked, but you stayed silent instead.
As much as his presence unnerved you and his superiority complex aggravated you, you still found yourself inexplicably drawn to him. Maybe it was because he seemed completely disinterested in you, or maybe it was because he was everything you were always told to stay away from.
The one thing you did know, however, was that if everyone around you was going to keep trying to convince you they knew how you should live your life better than you did, you were going to prove to them just how they wrong they were one way or another.
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu#lostinthewiind#fanfiction#fluff#eventual smut#ukai keishin#reader insert#x reader#reader imagine#song fic#ukai keishin x reader#ukai#keishin#smut#haikyuu smut
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TikTok Compilation (pt.2)
Word Count: 1.8k
Category: Fluff
Warning: Some language, very, very slight implied smut; like, it’s a line.
Summary: Yet another compilation of Y/N and Harry content on TikTok as a couple.
// masterlist //
a/n i’ve been receiving loads of tiktok requests so i combined some here! y’all have been asking for this for so long, sorry it took me long to post! let me know what you think. stay safe, friends!
..
Surely, you had hoped life would have taken a turn a long time ago with the pandemic.
Going outside without masks and crippling fear seemed like a dream, despite it all having been a reality for most of our lives. And while it was cliché, you truly don’t know what you have until it’s gone, like the boring routine you had complained about but now wished to get back.
And in your case, you also didn’t know that one app could have the ability to make things slightly easier during these times – TikTok.
Call it as you may, but quarantine TikTok content was a blessing and while you could swear by that, so could the fans and everyone else on the app since the moment you (and Harry) joined.
Having had tried so many pranks, challenges, and dances, you showed no signs of coming to an end of finding humor and pleasure from the app that Gen Z dominated with the wildest spirits.
With wild spirits, came wild content and for a generation that is openly expressive, there was also wholesome content; all of which Harry’s fans had tagged you to do and try with him.
‘Make your partner impersonate you’
For that one, Harry seemed to be the most excited to do, face beaming with a thousand spiraling ideas of things he could do and say.
The moment the video began, Harry was seen under your white covers, your pink velvet headband that everyone considered iconic rested on his head to show that he was acting like you, pretending to be sleepy as he spoke in a softer voice than his, “Don’t want to get up. More cuddles, please, baby.”
Then video then cut to Harry in the kitchen, you following behind him.
“I wonder where H is, need to pinch his bum.” He said in the same pitch he used for the previous shot.
The video then cut to Harry sitting on the couch beside you, holding his phone, “Baby, look at that!” He showed you his phone, showing you a video on TikTok, “Can we do it?”
‘Wipe your lips after your bf kisses you’
For this, you were picking Harry up from the studio.
Waiting in the parking lot, you had your phone placed behind the box of tissues.
To stay safe, you began recording a normal video for you to edit later as you waited for Harry to show.
When he did, Harry looked right and left as he searched for your car before his eyes fell on you and despite the mask on his face hiding half of it, you could tell that he smiled.
Getting inside the car, Harry took off his mask with a sigh, “First time to actually breathe since morning.” He said before leaning closer to you, pressing his lips against yours.
Doing your part, you looked ahead as you wiped your lips with the back of your hand, noticing Harry’s body stiff as he looked at you.
“Did you just-” He paused, “Did you wipe your lips?”
You hummed in confusion, acting as if you hadn’t heard him as you looked at him.
“Did you-Come here,” he frowned before pulling you close by your hoodie’s drawstrings, pressing his lips against yours in a kiss again.
Again, you wiped your lips.
“Why are you doing that?” He asked, not only confusion being evident in his tone, but hurt, too, “Why are you wiping my ki-Babe, I’m clean.”
“What?” You asked, looking at him as you smiled amusingly, trying to contain your laughter.
“Why are you wiping my kiss?” Harry almost whined, frowning.
“I’m sorry, it’s for TikTok,” you giggled, breaking into laughter when he groaned with a roll of his eyes before he grabbed your jaw, kissing your lips more aggressively.
“Never again.”
‘Let go of your partner’s hand and see what they do’
If there was one thing Harry liked to brag about, it was knowing how to multitask; drive with one hand, hold yours with the other.
It was a natural occurrence for the both of you to hold hands when he drove, no matter what.
Deciding to try that one trend, you took advantage of Harry being focused on the road to film your intertwined hands on your thigh for two seconds before taking your hand out of his.
Instantly, Harry glanced at you, seemingly unaware to you tilting your phone in the other hand to film his face, “Why’d you leave my hand?” He only mumbled before opening his palm towards you once again, smiling when he heard you softly giggle as you put your hand back in his, cooing when he raised it his lips, pressing a soft and gentle kiss on your knuckles, “This stays right here.”
‘Film yourself acting like your partner’
Since the TikTok of Harry acting you like received so many reactions, among them were fans asking you to act like Harry as well, and Harry was down to watch that happen.
Harry recorded you, first shot of video being a little shaky as he couldn’t contain his giggles while watching you in his flared pants, an oversized shirt, his cross pendant on your neck between the valley of your chest, rings on your fingers that showed chipped black polish on your nails.
Your hair was gathered up in a scrunchie, one leg over the other as you sat on a chair, “I’m Harry Styles,” you began, “And like, I never explain my music, I let people interpret it the way they want because music,” you sucked a breath, “Is art. It’s a form of expression that isn’t limited, it’s, like, very open. Like the ocean.” You said slowly, mimicking Harry’s accent and smiling at the end when Harry burst out laughing.
For the next shot, you were in Harry’s white bathrobe, coming out of the bathroom before leaning on the doorframe and looking at Harry as he filmed you, “You sure you’re going to let me shower alone, love?”
Another shot was of you in Harry’s joggers and TPWK black hoodie, sprawled on your couch with the hood on, looking at Harry in disbelief as you still mimicked his accent and deep voice, “Excuse me? Why are you standing there and not cuddling me?”
In a grey tank top of his that you dramatically spilt water on to make it look like sweat and sweat shorts, you had Harry’s boxing gloves on your hands as you bumped your fists together, approaching Harry as he recorded, “God, I’m so sweaty, I have to go hug my girlfriend.”
For the final shot, you had Harry’s guitar in your arms, adjusting the strap as you stood, “I’m going to write a song that is so sexual and record it but I’m not going to release it because I’m a biiiiiitch.” You sang, dramatically strumming the guitar.
‘Pretend to take a mirror selfie with your partner then whisper something dirty in their ear’
You enjoyed the sun; the way it sneaked inside yours and Harry’s room from the sides of your curtains, lit up the room so warmly.
You enjoyed how the natural lighting looked for pictures.
You also enjoyed teasing the shit out of your boyfriend.
“Come here,” you made one grabby hand at Harry who entered the room, scratching his chin, “Let’s take a picture.”
Already used to random pictures being taken together, Harry reached you, standing in front of your vanity mirror as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, pressing a kiss against your temple.
Oblivious to it being a video, Harry leaned his chin on your shoulder, giving his famous smug look to the mirror as you held up your phone.
Turning your head, you made sure your voice was low so that your phone wouldn’t pick what you said;
“Want you to pound me.”
And instantly, Harry’s smug look faltered; his eyes widening, face brightening as he looked at you as you giggled before releasing a squeal once you felt him carry you and move you from where you stood, and to the bed as you laughed.
‘Tell your partner your ex wants to return a hoodie of yours’
Propping your phone up, you made sure it showed Harry as he cooked while you sat on the kitchen stool.
You folded your arms on the table, clearing your throat as you eyed Harry while he was chopping carrots.
“Hey, H,” Harry hummed, stealing a glance at you before looking back at his chore, “My ex called earlier,”
At this, Harry’s eyebrows furrowed before he looked up at you, putting down the knife and leaning his hands on the counter, his arms seeming to look bigger as he tensed, “What did he say?”
Trying not to laugh, you looked down, beginning to play with your fingers before giving him a shrug, “Just that he still has a hoodie of mine at his place,”
“Yeah?”
“And asked if I need it back.”
“What did you say?”
You gave him another shrug, “Said I’ll let him know.”
“Well, do you need it?” He asked, “Like really need it?”
“Yeah, it was my high school’s.”
“But baby, you have a lot of hoodies,” one hand of his reached to his lips, fingers grazing his bottom lip for a moment, “Can get it for you.”
“That’d be so awkward, H,” you sighed.
“Why? I’m your boyfriend.” Harry reasoned, “Maybe I can just come with you,” he said again before his face lit up, “I can have it customized instead. Just tell me how it looked like and-”
“Baby, no,” you chuckled, “It won’t be the same.”
“Come on, love,” he frowned, “He calls you 3 years later to tell you he still has your hoodie. You don’t think that’s suspicious? He knows you’re with m-Everyone knows we’re together.”
“Maybe he forgot,” you shrugged, “Actually, let me call and as-”
“Oh, fuck no!” Harry instantly rushed to you.
‘Aggressively tell your partner you love them’
Chilling on the couch, Harry was watching the TV, unaware of your phone that had been resting on the shelf to record you beforehand.
You stomped where Harry was, whose head snapped to you, his mouth chewing his banana bite slower as he eyed you carefully, taking in your angry state.
You threw your notebook on the couch beside him, “I love you!” You said aggressively, a frown on your face as you pointed at him, “I fucking love you!”
Harry took a moment, his face shifting to one of amusement before he raised his hands up – one holding his banana – before pointing at you, “I fucking love you, too!” He screamed.
“No, no,” you shook your head, still aggressively speaking, “I love you more!”
“I’m so fucking in love with you!” Harry said as aggressively, standing in an instant, towering over you as he pressed himself against you before wrapping one arm around you, “Why are we shouting, you weirdo?”
‘Stick your hand out and see what your partner does’
Harry was sat beside you on his laptop, music blasting from it as he emailed himself some tasks.
Recording him with one hand, you reached your arm out, opening your palm at him.
Harry looked down at your hand, a smile making its way to his face before he looked at you before placing his chin on your hand, closing his eyes as he gave you a dopey smile as you squished his cheeks while giggling, “Hiii.”
#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles fluff imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles tiktok
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Ed, Edd n Eddy Series Bible (1996) -Analysis-
You can all finally read/download Ed, Edd n Eddy's official Series Bible right here! Thanks again to Chuckletons for sharing this with me and to Joey/Kongiscool0518 for sharing it in the first place, the Holy Grail of lost Ed, Edd n Eddy trivia!
One of the first posts I made for this blog was the Series Bible page. It was a composite of every source we had ever seen reference the series bible so far-- storyboarders in interviews, CN's old character guides, and the biggest source, an old CN UK posting about the show. Well, I figure now that we have the official source, I better update the old page (so everyone knows it's out of date), and make this new Series Bible post using the official source! Not much new information, but I was intrigued to finally learn the true phrasings of some things we had only heard paraphrased, as well as at least one detail from the movie that I couldn't believe came up this early in conception...
Unfortunately, Tumblr has apparently updated its post system to only let me add 10 images? Gonna try and only use images for what I need since you can read the actual document above, I guess I'll transcribe it too for easier reference and so we don't ever lose some archive of this.
Quickly, let's review what a series bible is:
A series bible is how creators pitch shows to networks. They can be called “pitch bibles” as well. Bibles do not usually get posted publicly, because they are initially under a strict Non-Disclosure Agreement by the network; also the creator may simply not wish to share it because it reflects the earliest stages of development.
The pitch materials typically include early concepts for characters, locations and episodes. Sometimes it exposes secrets, in this case, Ed and Eddy’s home lives, and sometimes the stuff in it is completely abandoned because it’s so early in production, in this case, casual references to school and adults.
Alright, everybody, it's time to gather 'round and read the Ed, Edd n Eddy Bible!
THE YEAR IS 1996.
YOUR NAME IS LINDA SIMENSKY. YOU WORK AT CARTOON NETWORK. A FRIEND OF YOURS, DANNY ANTONUCCI, IS WRAPPING UP A SHOW ON MTV. YOU GET THIS FAX.
Linda Simensky immediately fell in love with this concept because as a child, she was best friends with 2 other Lindas for seemingly no reason other than the shared name.
I love how Danny decided last second to pencil in the correct names over each Ed, since they're arranged out of title-order.
"They're friends because they have the same name."
-the Logline for the series.
Fun fact: one storyboard artist for the movie observed that the movie is essentially all about challenging the series' original notion that the Eds are friends ONLY because of their name.
"A Danny Antonucci Cartuna"
-the label Danny used to use under announcements of new productions.
PAGE 1:
Ed, Edd n Eddy
They're best friends because they have the same name.
A gag laden, beat generated CARTOON bumper car ride of 3 misfit youths on a cul-de-sac in the suburbs of America.
Through summer vacation, part-time jobs, or just hang'n out at the corner mail box, they want to belong....but CAN'T.
From home chores, helping neighbors or eating jaw breakers, they want to fit in...but CAN'T.
Ed is into "B" monster movies, model kits and is quick to break out into rashes.
Lots of luck...
Edd is into chemistry, biology and prone to crushes.
Later...
Eddy is into pranks, is stylish and flaunts himself to the world.
Ya Right...
Ed, Edd n Eddy is a show about confusion and contradiction, that awkward part of youth, pimples, big feet, oily hair and... girls???.
Puberty is unforgiving.
I was fascinated by the lack of art on this page, it makes the pitch feel very focused. AKA logo in the corner, the title logo again up top, then the logline appears again below.
I really love the breakdown of Danny's vision of the show. "Gag-laden, beat-generated, CARTOON bumper ride." Very accurate, and I think "beat-generated" is the phrase that interests me the most. I typically think of "animation beats" as sort of a give-in-- technically all things fit a rhythm, so all stories are essentially just a montage of beats. But this does make me realize how important the strength of the beats and their rhythm are to the pacing of a cartoon and making you feel like "that was a good one." I feel like the "seasonal rot" viewers feel over the course of a show, and the way that perception differs from person to person, depends on the type of beats you want. Even though I am very into the experimental beats of a show in its later seasons, I can definitely see how season 1's beats are more typically appealing to a wide-audience, and how important a focus on that is to the longevity of a show.
I found it really interesting how the scams are initially conceived of here as "summer jobs." It adds to the sense that adults were originally meant to be present. Honestly a little surprised nobody with access to this bible had ever thought to mention that-- scams are not referenced ANYWHERE. Their image in the Series Bible is that they have summer jobs and help neighbors, which is certainly a much cleaner reputation than the Eds ended up with in the show. Makes me realize though, were some of the early scams, like Ed's Hive Bee Gone and their newspaper routes, supposed to be leaning into this early idea of them with almost legit jobs for unseen adults?
I was very amused by the repeated phrase that the Eds simply CAN'T fit in.
Loved to finally see the official phrasing for the confirmation that Peach Creek is in America. Not much different than I was led to believe, but still nice to have the true quote.
Also love Eddy being described as "stylish and flaunting himself to the world." The bold-print reactions to each micro-description is a cute idea too, I truly wonder who we were meant to picture saying those things in reaction. Each Ed? Kevin?
The "corner mail box" is an oddly specific phrase-- the Eds do hang around mailboxes throughout the series, especially seasons 1-3, and I believe the canon map does have a corner mailbox, but the idea that the Eds hang out at one specific mailbox went the way of Bro's supposed secret treehouses.
PAGE 2:
Ed, Edd n Eddy
Show Description
Gag laden. True cartoon style, inventive, non parody, fast paced, stretch and squash
Beat driven. (even when characters stop they hold with a bounce cycle. Adults never bounce. Music can play important part, not just fill.) But not a musical.
Cartoon surrealism. (viewers see the show as Ed, Edd n Eddy would, less important things tend to blend into the background, while objects of Ed, Edd n Eddy's desires are focused. Premise driven.)
The school year's over, (yeah!!!!) and the long HOT summer vacation begins (gulp). What to do?
Stuck on a cul-de-sac in the suburbs of America is the last place you want to spend summer break, especially when you find life confusing and contradicting.
Ed, Edd n Eddy is about friendship, and serves to remind us that they're no "good ole days," just smelly runners.
You can tackle anything, when your with your pals.
Their days are spent, for knowledge, acceptance and some cash for jaw breakers. Armed with pimples, big feet and oily hair the three amigos trek into the unknown.
Ed, Edd n Eddy are dying to be grown-ups, but they're kids, and attack adulthood as only kids would. Simple situations turn into a manic rollercoaster ride. (Don't forget your barf bag).
They just want to belong, and they're willing to pull off any insane stunt to prove it. First they need to figure out what it is they want to belong to.
Found it interesting that on this page, the show's logo is replaced with the title written in a jumbled font. Seems like the font from the show's end credits.
Hehe, the continued reactions to the descriptions. Allow me to be Double D for a moment and point out the increased use of parentheticals on this page, as well as one wrong "your".
I love Danny's insight that season 1 is framed by the context of how hyped everyone still is just to be out of school, but also the sense of pressure to make use of their break.
I really appreciate Danny getting further into the details of his summary of the show's style on the previous page. It only makes sense that he had this much of a vision that early.
A second confirmation of the cul-de-sac being in America! I'm also really into the repeated focus on the Eds finding the world "contradicting." I always loved how EEnE's inexplicable cartoon antics supported that sense that the Eds are highly aware of contradictions in both societal things and the actual characters.
WOW, so I'm fascinated by this dual reveal. Before the wiggling outlines, which Danny usually calls a "boiling line" and describes as a tribute to wiggling inking in early animation, the series bible instead refers to him wanting the characters to do the iconic Fleischer "bounce," which is a much more commonly recognized rubberhose animation technique. Very interesting that Danny decided not to stick to that. Did it feel too out of place? Or was the overseas team not willing to animate a weight-shifting for every single held pose? Haha, guess I can see why boiling was an easier compromise. I wonder if he had any other ideas for how to make it more of a 1930s cartoon.
The other reveal to me here is that the movie's choice, that adults don't always wiggle in the show, was an idea from the very beginning! I guess I can better understand now why it's just too difficult to communicate a stylistic choice like that overseas-- no point making Bro not wiggle, that'd just create confusion.
Also, really disappointed that my wish for a musical is officially squashed in the series bible itself. That's a tragedy. The show's over, ya couldn't let me dream, Danny!? Conversely, I love Danny's forethought to say "non parody," I definitely noticed and appreciated EEnE's avoidance of derivative parody humor.
My spouse had to point out to me that Danny probably means sneakers here, lol. Canadianisms!
The comments about the Eds wanting to grow up but needing to figure out what they want to belong to are so great and relate to the movie so well. I've heard those comments before, but the correct phrasing was cool to see.
PAGE 3:
Ed, Edd n Eddy (image of Ed in right corner)
Character Description
Ed
Attention deficiency syndrome.
He has trouble...
He can't....um...
OK, he draws all day in class.
When Eddy gets a bright idea...Ed's in.
Ed is easily talked into doing Eddy's "hard work". He has great physical strength.
Ed's happiest with his Model kits and B-monster movies. He draws his knowledge from his movies.
Ed smells. Flies are attracted to him.
Ed has sayings for all situations
ED: "you can change your shirt, and Bingo was his name..."
Ed's perpetually a slave to his younger sister's whims and whines.
Ed may have to baby-sit his sister, or let her watch whatever she wants on TV, or let her dress him up in mom's clothes.
Ed breaks out in Rashes. He's allergic to practically everything, especially Guinea Pigs.
Ed's Mom xerox's his sketches and doodles for her therapist.
Ed's Dad hopes to pass on to his son, his knowledge on "pre-owned" auto sales.
Very cute bit wasting the space at the top of the page. Danny seems very invested in Ed's personality already. The old sources we used to have definitely tried to condense these down to simpler blurbs.
Weird how Danny wants to essentially diagnose Ed with ADHD here (phrasing it very poorly, but it was the 90s and... Canada?). I don't know enough on the subject to debate it, but I still gotta point out Ed's canonical cracked skull!
Interested in the comment about Ed being most allergic to Guinea Pigs. I don't think that animal was ever even mentioned in the show. Eddy mentioned an old gerbil once....
Neat to finally have the real phrasing of the official word on Ed's parents! I saw someone comment earlier that this seems to be hinting Ed's Dad is selling stolen cars. I've never thought to question the legality of his apparent second-hand-car dealership (I imagined he works with Eddy's dad, who has received a legitimate award for his salesmanship), but those quotation marks are certainly making Mr. Ed's practices questionable! Best case scenario, Danny meant that more like italics or something, but maybe Ed's dad IS up to no good...
PAGES 4 & 5 (Ed's turn sheet and expression sheet)
PAGE 6:
Ed, Edd n Eddy (image of Edd in right corner)
Character Description
Edd
is really smart.
is really quiet.
Edd is unnaturally-- polite.
Edd hasn't been allowed to take gym ever since the Dodge ball incident. He's been excused to free study time in the library.
Edd doesn't like it when people touch his things.
EDD: "You may enter in my room, but don't touch my Lego robot. Thank you."
Edd's learning to play Peddle steel guitar. (his Mom makes him)
Edd's prone to "crushes". Girls in School, in his neighborhood, TV, anatomy books. He mails "true loves" his socks.
Edd is always ready for action, even though he can calculate the implications.
Edd constantly mumbles.
No one ever sees Edd's parents. They both work nights. They communicate to their son solely through Post-it notes. Edd's not allowed to touch anything in the house while they're gone. Anything.
Interesting how Danny slightly differentiates the barely-used space at the top here from Ed's description, to characterize Edd as more quiet and mumbly, adding an awkward "--" mid-sentence, perhaps to create the impression that Edd halts to choose words carefully.
Everything on this page feels familiar, from the character guides and other old sources. The most interesting thing to me here is that Edd's Mom forcing him to practice Pedal Steel Guitar is established this early, don't think I knew that, but I had noticed that it existed in his room from ep 1.
I love how the explanation in the beginning for why Edd goes along with their dumb schemes even though he's smart is basically just "he's always ready for action." ?!? I guess in a way???
That weirdly phrased Edd quote amuses me because it references Lego, just like the original concept background for his room before somebody nixed the copyright-namedrop.
Edd's prone to crushes thing has been reaffirmed over and over in character bios even though it really doesn't come up outside of the cupid magic in HPH and the pilot-episode heart eyes at Sarah that are barely canon. Still, I've always loved the truly disturbing statement that he mails "his true loves his socks" and how that managed to make it into canon with a comic book example, a cel animation example and a digital era example.
PAGES 7 & 8 (Edd's turn sheet and expression sheet)
PAGE 9:
Ed, Edd n Eddy (image of Eddy in right corner)
Character Description
Eddy
Exhibitionist.
Megalomaniac. (quote from his report card)
Eddy is the unofficial leader of the trio.
He's always got a plan, a stunt or a weird noise.
Eddy's the "class clown". He loves showing off. He loves being the centre of attention-- no matter how stupid the reason is.
Eddy is the only kid in his grade to have been expelled for aw hole week from school. It was his turn to set up the video for science class. He switched "Our Friend Yeast", for a video he "borrowed" from his parent's room.
Before Eddy's brother went....away, he enlightened Eddy with the "legends" of the neighbourhood. Eddy knows where all the abandoned tree houses are, which sewer pipers are safe to spelunk, and the secret recipe for the "El Mongo Stink Bomb" (it's been in the family for years).
He is the one who is most able to pretend that he knows it all... and doesn't care what anyone else thinks about him.
His genes are working the fastest.
Eddy's Dad is constantly concerned that Eddy may grow up to be a ...figure skater.
Eddy's Mom never believes his little darling was involved in such a heinous act.
Funny choice that Eddy's wasted-top-space is just two one-word descriptions, and allegedly lazily swiped from his negative report card.
Wow, we knew the report card quote and the "Our Friend Yeast" story from the UK show guide, but now we also know Ed's page says that Ed draws in class, and now I realize that Ed and Eddy have series bible school blurbs to match Edd's classic dodgeball incident blurb. Anyway, it's great that Eddy's showed his entire school some sort of sex video his parents have.
Very interested that the phrasing for the Bro/El Mongo Stink Bomb blurb even seems to suggest it's a family recipe. Eddy's Dad did have prankster stuff in his closet in JJJ... did Bro learn his prankster ways from Dad?? The neighborhood's secret tree houses have come up in other descriptions (at best, I'd say this could be related to that creepy shack the Eds found in the woods), but I think it's new info that Eddy personally learned the sewer routes from Bro. Interesting...
Thankfully, I had already heard about the Bible's awkward reference to Eddy being the most pubescent as "his genes are working the fastest," lmao.
Once again the Double D in me comes out to point out that the description of Eddy's Mom seems to switch to the Dad's pronouns.
PAGES 10 & 11 (Eddy's turn sheet and expression sheet)
PAGES 12-14 (Sarah, Jimmy, Rolf, Jonny, Nazz, and Kevin lineup of all 6, then 2 zoomed in lineups of the first 3 kids and last 3 kids)
(Funfact: the kids' designs were allegedly freelanced to an outside studio, hence why their refined later-season designs are so different from these lizardy starting places, lmao)
PAGE 15: (images of Sarah and Jimmy next to their blurbs)
SARAH
Ed's baby Sister.
It's her way or the Highway.
She has everything done for her, if NOT she'll "make" them do it.
She can be quick to judge.
Whinney.
A tatrum for every occasion.
More than a handful for Ed...or Edd and Eddy.
Thinks Edd is kinda cute.
Wants Eddy to MOVE...to another planet.
JIMMY
Sarah's best friend
He is always playing with girls, boys are just too tough.
He is accident prone, when ever we see him he has a different affliction, ie: band-aids, patches, casts, lumps...etc.
He is very clean.
The Ed's frighten him, "They're such brutes".
I'm surprised how much of the UK guide was accurate to what was really in the bible for them! Also surprised Danny misspelled "whiney" and "tantrum," one right after the other. Is this how Sarah spells them? ...Sorry, Danny, I yam what I yam.
PAGE 16: (images of Rolf and Jonny next to their blurbs)
ROLF
First generation of a landed immigrant family.
Nationality not important.
He's proud of his heritage.
He has peculiar traditions and/or customs.
He eats "weird" things.
He has hair on his back..... "yuck".
He confuses the Ed's to no end.
He confuses the other kids to no end.
JONNY 2x4
He is a wanderer and very inquisitive
From early morning to supper time, he is always outside playing, with his buddy, "Plank".
"Plank" is a wooden board that Jonny drew a face on with a crayon.
Jonny has wonderful conversations with Plank. ...Plank is a piece of wood.
Jonny makes himself very "accessible" to the Ed's.
Found it interesting that Rolf's bio is less clearly phrased than the UK bio set it up to be-- there they made it sound more like he mixes up who the Eds/kids are, here it's unclear whether it means that or (more likely) just means the obvious statement that everyone finds him confusing. If it's that, what a lame hollow bio Rolf got. This kid's based on you Danny, show some of that personal side!
Always loved Jonny's description, his life sounds so cute. Playing outside literally all day. Interesting to have it confirmed that Jonny drew Plank's face, I preferred to think the Eds drew him and sold him to Jonny, but whatever.
"Accessible" has always been an important vague description of Jonny to me. It really only applies to how chummy they could be with him in season 1, but it still sorta applies to his personality throughout the series as well.
PAGE 17: (images of Nazz and Kevin next to their blurbs)
NAZZ
She's cool, calm and assertive.
She is the most matured of the kids, or so she thinks.
She's into make-up and fashion magazines and Boys.
Sarah thinks she's awesome, wants to be just like her when she grows up.
When she enters a scene, all activity stops... boys freeze, they sweat, their hearts beat faster and faster. They lose their ability to talk. When she leaves, they recover and conclude it was something They ate.
She thinks the Ed's are funny.
KEVIN
He is cynical and sarcastic.
He thinks he knows the "routine". That's because he watches "60 Minutes".
It got a big laugh out of me that Kevin's description is only 2 sentences long. Nazz even has a more detailed character description from inception than Kevin. Love this for them.
Who's the Eds' rival? Well, he's cynical, sarcastic and he watches 60 Minutes, doesn't that tell you enough!?
I love the "mature... or so she thinks" remark about Nazz, a grounded flaw for her to have, being a little overcommitted to being mature like Eddy. It also perhaps suggests naiveté that makes it a little more reasonable that they didn't notice they were dumbing her down at the end of the series, but I do think the movie version of her better reflects the Bible's concept.
PAGE 18:
The Other Neighborhood Kids
Lineup of May, Lee and Marie.
The Kanker Sisters
These gals are tough. They bother, bully, provoke and bewilder everyone.
They live in a motor home park on the other side of the Cul-de-sac. The other kids have never been there.
They are proud of their Tammy Faye Baker memorabilia.
Their project "Cooking with Ketchup" closed down their school for a whole week.
No one likes them, especially the Eds.
They are determined to marry the Eds. They want them to do their dishes.
Amused that the Kankers are essentially being labeled backgrounds characters here, the role they mostly fell into in season 5. "Other" neighborhood kids...
I love that the Kankers have a school blurb to match each of the Eds', and that theirs has similar destructive-intentions to Eddy's video premiere story.
I believe all of this was all known from the UK guide as well, but still, neat stuff!
PAGES 19 & 20 (zoomed in Kanker lineup and their height chart with the Eds)
PAGES 21 & 22 (early promo art that used to be on CN's old Eds webpage, the art of the Eds eating jawbreakers at the end of ep 1 with the overhead text "Ed, Edd n Eddy love JAWBREAKERS!!!", and the art of the Eds all running with overhead text "Ed, Edd n Eddy see something shiny...."Jiggers." That weird "jiggers" statement at the end was normally edited out and I don't know what it means. Looked it up and it seems to be Chinook jargon (like when Ed said he was "skookum at X's and O's") usually said in the same sense as "CHEESE IT!")
PAGES 23+:
The rest of the pages in that bible download are from a 2004 storyboard test. The storyboard sample "It's Raining Eds," which we've seen some submitted samples of before, interpretations with Ed attempting to fly or chew gum and Edd making radioactive gum, I was surprised to find out the outline is just the original outline for the opening sequence to season 3's 'For Your Eds Only', seemingly Jonny was not written into the original outline (or was excised for easier testing purposes) but Kevin's brief cameo was. Now I wonder if they knew this would be used for a test when they wrote it, and if they would've come up with a less random way to include him if weren't forced to be a concise bit for testing's sake. (Your limit is typically 40 storyboard pages in my experience.)
I also noticed that in the included background references, the anonymous adult neighbor house next door to Ed's is officially just referred to as a "generic house."
My analysis ends here, but be sure to download that sometime and enjoy all the raw storyboard sketches at the end of the document!
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Serendipity
Summary: You accidentally bump into Suna once, then a second time, then a third time.... before it starts seeming like fate has already decided its course for the both of you.
Pairings: Suna Rintaro x F!reader
Genre: Mostly fluff, College/Uni au
Word count: 3.4k words
Part: 1 , (2) , (3) , (TBC)
(A/N: I suck at writing summaries but anyways. This is/was supposed to be part of my [HQ Boys - Pretending to be your boyfriend] series, but I really wanted to make this slightly longer than my usual one-shots. Also, this story will probably have every cheesy trope you know, so, proceed with caution and I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.)
THUD
THUD
THUD
THUD
‘Okay, what the fuck is going on?’ you think as you slowly try to open your eyes.
Looking at your bedside table, you reach for your phone and check the time
7:35 A.M
‘Ugh... it’s too early for this shit...’ you think as you yawn.
You remember your shift at work starts at about 9 a.m., so you decide to sleep for a bit longer.
You place your phone back down on your bedside table, and turn in bed, covering your face with a pillow.
THUD
“Goddammit, what’s going on outside?!” you exclaim, getting out of your bed and heading for the front door.
You open the door hastily, and find your landlord standing in the hallway of your apartment building, then notice multiple moving boxes scattered around, and movers talking some of the boxes into the apartment opposite yours.
You’re both startled when you open the door, but she softens as soon as she notices it was you.
“Good morning, Mrs. Saito. What’s going on?” you ask her sleepily.
“Goodness, I’m sorry they woke you up as well, sweetheart. The new tenant told me they were moving in today but I didn’t know the movers were coming this early and causing this much of a ruckus!” she exclaims, looking like she was just as annoyed by the noise as you were.
“Well, the new tenant certainly didn’t make a good first impression, huh?” you say, trying to lighten the mood.
She chuckles softly, “I guess not. They’re not even here yet, so I’m just going to have to stay here until the movers are done” she sighs.
“Want me to make you a cup of coffee?”
“Oh, that’s alright, sweetheart, you should go back in and try to get some more sleep” she says, waving you back into your apartment.
You try to insist, but you feel too tired. Instead, you just nod and go back in, closing the door behind you.
Sighing, you head to your bedroom again; you figure you should try to get a bit more sleep in before you actually start getting ready for work.
-~-~-
After tossing and turning in bed for a couple of minutes, the noise wouldn’t get any quieter, so you thought you might as well get out of bed and head to your part-time job a bit earlier than usual.
You start getting ready, and make a quick cup of coffee to give Mrs. Saito on your way out. She thanks you and you go on your way.
When you first moved into your apartment about 2 years ago, you were able to find a pretty decent part-time job working as a barista at coffee shop nearby. It was only about two blocks away from where you lived, so it was super convenient; and a plus point, you were never late.
Checking your phone again, you notice the time
8:35 A.M
“It’s still so early...” you yawn as you take out your headphones and play some music to listen to while you walk to the coffee shop, talking your time.
After about 15 minutes of enjoying your morning walk, and window shopping on the stores along the way, you reach your destination and open the front door.
“Goodmorning, y/n!” you hear your boss call out to you as soon as you enter, “Early as usual, I see”
You chuckle as you head in his direction, “Oh, you know me, always excited to get to work!” you joke.
He laughs, “Yesterday was your last day of your second Uni semester, wasn’t it?” he asks you.
“Yeah, made it out in one piece thankfully”
He laughs again, “I’m sure you did well, I've seen how stressed out you’ve been about it but I also know how hard you’ve been studying, don’t worry” he assures you as he points to the chairs in the shop, silently asking you to help him out with setting them up.
“How do you know that?” you sigh, grabbing a few chairs and setting them down.
He stops what he’s doing and looks at you, “You think I didn’t notice the dark circles you kept coming in with, during every shift, for the past couple of weeks?”
“Was it that obvious?” your eyes widen.
“Definitely” he answers and you both laugh.
After setting up the last few chairs, your boss speaks up again, “Alright, why don’t you head in and get ready, I’ll just be out here setting up the register before we open in a couple of minutes”.
You nod and walk back to the staff locker area.
-~-~-
The day goes by slowly, as usual, and after a few hours, you take your break and head to the staff room locker area to relax and have a (late) breakfast.
‘I really need this right now’ you sigh as you take a sip of your coffee, feeling more tired than usual, and blame it on having to wake up super early that morning.
You check your phone and notice a text message.
1 NEW MESSAGE
You open it.
FROM ‘Wifeyy <3’: “Heyy! Call me when you're on your break!”
You smile and shake your head, dialing up her number.
It rings a couple of times before your best friend picks up.
“Hey y/n!!” she yells excitedly
“Hey Hina,” you laugh, “What’s up?”
“Just wanted to remind you that we are going out tonight to celebrate my birthday, you still remember, right?”
“Oh, was that today?” you joke
“Y/N!!!”
“I’m kidding, I'm kidding, you know I'll be there” you shake your head
“Good! I'll also be inviting some of my friends from Uni, but I want us to hangout still. It’s been a while since we’ve actually caught up. And I'm finally gonna be able to come to your city!”
The both of you actually met during your first year in University through mutual friends. Even though you both were in different majors, you hit it off right away. And after that, the both of you always tried to make time to hang out, whether it was between classes, during lunch breaks, or whenever the both of you had the time.
However, it was sometimes hard to meet up during weekends, since she lived in the city next to yours, so whenever she had the chance to come to your city, or you were able to go to hers, you guys would always spend it together.
“Yeah, I guess with exams and all it was hard for us to actually see each other”
“Exactly, anyways I’m excited for tonight!”
“Yeah, me too..!”
“Hey, do you sound more tired than usual, or is it just me?” she asks you, sounding worried.
“Oh, it’s nothing, I just woke up super early today, not willingly though” you sigh, “don't even ask, I'll tell you about it later”
“Alright... if you say so”
“Anyways, I gotta get back to work now, so, I’ll see you tonight, okay?”
“Alright! Dress sexy, okay? You promised we would dress up!”
“Yeah, yeah, I'll try my best” you both laugh before hanging up.
-~-~-
It was about 5 p.m when you finally reach your house, after leaving your part-time job, and finishing up some outdoor chores you had for the day.
You sigh as you get off the elevator to your floor.
You notice the empty hallway as you walk to your apartment; you suppose that the movers were already done and have left at this point.
You glance over to the door opposite yours at the end of the floor’s hallway.
‘I wonder if they're home yet...’ you think before you unlock the door of your apartment and go in.
You sigh as you place your groceries and bag on your kitchen island and start putting everything away.
You were supposed to meet Hina later tonight, at around 7 p.m, to celebrate her birthday. That meant you had a couple more hours to spend at home, so you decide to make some lunch/dinner and watch a movie on Netflix.
-~-~-
“Hey Hina, I’ll just go outside and answer this call real quick alright?” you try to call out to your friend as you get out of your chair, but she looks at you confused, the music playing loudly in the pub and the bustling of the people inside made it hard for her to hear your voice from across the table.
You point to your phone, and as realization hits her, she nods.
You attempt to make your way out of the pub, trying to worm between the people inside and make your way to the door. However, you suddenly run into someone before you reach the door, and accidentally drop their drink.
“I’m so sorry!” you tell them, looking up and noticing it was an old man, long white hair settling over his shoulders.
He looks annoyed at first but then his face relaxes when he sees you.
“I can pay for the drink!” you tell him apologetically.
“Oh, that’s alright, gorgeous, it was just a mistake” he answers you, smiling.
‘Okay...’ you think as you get a weird feeling in your gut.
“Would you like me to buy you-”
“Okay, Bye” you cut him off, smiling awkwardly, feeling uncomfortable with the way he was looking at you; you reach for the door and leave the pub.
It suddenly gets much quieter, and you feel yourself relax, finally being able to breathe.
Honestly, you didn’t really get a call from anyone, you were just feeling tired, and wanted to take a break from all the noise.
You check the time on your phone,
11:54 P.M
You sigh, ‘I wanna go back home...’
It’s not that you weren’t having fun with Hina and her friends, but you were frankly not that close with them, and even though they are all very nice, having to be social for a long time takes a toll on your mental and physical strength sometimes.
Startled, you turn around when you hear the door of the pub open again behind you.
“Hey,” you hear Hina say as she approaches you, “is everything okay?”
“Yeah sorry, that was just my mom checking up on me” you lie to her, putting your phone back in your bag.
She nods, but you know she's slightly suspicious of your answer as she eyes you carefully
“You tired?” she asks you.
You chuckle nervously, ‘well, that didn’t take long’.
“Yeah, I'm really sorry, it’s getting late and it’s kind of been a long day”
She chuckles, “It’s okay, I thought your battery might have run out by now”
You couldn’t help but chuckle as well. Then you look at her apologetically.
“Yeah, I think I might head home for the night, is that alright with you?” you ask her, feeling bad you couldn’t stay longer.
She laughs and goes in to hug you goodbye, “You know it’s fine, I’m just glad I got to see you today! But, promise me we would hangout together again soon?”
You sigh, relieved, “you know I'd cancel any plans I have, just to see you” you shake your head as you hug her back.
“And promise me you’ll think about that date I wanna set you up on” she giggles as you both let go.
“Yeah, yeah, I'll think about it” you reply, used to her trying to set you up on these blind dates that you don’t necessarily really want to go to.
“Alright. You want me to call you a cab or walk you home?” she asks as you turn around and start leaving.
“No! It’s fine, my house is literally a couple of blocks away, go back! Have fun!” you say assuring her, and waving her to go back and hangout with her friends.
“Are you sure, y/n?”
“Yess! Go!” you tell her, and turn back around, walking away again.
-~-~-
After walking for a few minutes, you notice how quiet it was outside, except for the few open pubs you passed by earlier. I mean, it wasn’t really a huge surprise, it was getting pretty late, and almost all stores in the area were closed at that point. But, because you weren’t usually out that late at night all alone, it somehow made it feel even emptier and quieter.
You look up at the sky as you walk on the sidewalk and notice a few stars scattered along the night sky. It makes you smile and you close your eyes and take a deep breath.
‘I wonder how many of those are actually just satellites...’ you think to yourself as you open your eyes, and you can’t help but let out a small chuckle.
You feel your phone vibrate and notice you got a text message.
1 NEW MESSAGE
You open it.
FROM ‘Wifeyy <3’: “Heyy! Text me when you get home safe!”
You smile as you read the message, but then feel a sudden chill down your spine.
‘Weird...’
You put your phone down and suddenly start hearing faint footsteps behind you.
‘Alright, that’s fine... it’s just someone walking home as well’ you try to assure yourself but can’t help but still feel anxious.
After a few minutes, you still hear the foot steps behind you, slowly getting closer. That, somehow, making you feel more anxious.
‘I’m just overthinking this right?’
You try to increase your pace, to check if they really were following you. Even if they weren’t, you hope to try and lose them all together. It didn’t help that the way to your apartment would be to keep walking straight, and the alleys around the buildings on the way were blocked off at the ends, not making it any safer for you to try and find a way around.
But then you hear the person behind you increase their pace as well.
‘Fuck’ you think, feeling scared and panicked, ‘they're definitely following me, aren’t they?’
You panic as you think of what to do next, then decide to take out your phone and call someone.
‘Who the fuck do I call? Hina? The police? I-’
Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear someone yell something from the sidewalk on the other side of the street you were walking on.
Your head snaps to where the voice came from and you notice a guy running up to you, “Babe?”
You try to back away before the boy reaches you, but, “I’ve been waiting for you, what took you so long?” he asks, pulling you in for a hug.
“I don’t know yo-!”
“Someone’s following you” he whispers in your ear before letting you complete your sentence.
Your heart stops when you hear him say that and you begin to feel your eyes tear up.
He pulls away, looking at you, and you suddenly notice you stopped hearing the footsteps coming from behind you.
You look back and see a man standing in the middle of the street, your eyes widen when you notice his long white hair.
‘That’s the fucking creepy old guy from the pub, I knew he seemed off!’
“My name is Suna. I was just in that supermarket over there, on the other side of the street, when I noticed him following you” he tells you quietly, as he subtly points at a store behind him. You look over his shoulder and notice a small, old looking supermarket, with an ‘Open 24/7′ neon light flickering over it. “Do you want me to walk you back home?” the boy asks you, and your eyes snap back to him.
You’re then able to see him much clearer, his pale, yellow eyes looking into yours. He had a blank expression on his face but you could hear a hint of worry in his voice.
You feel a tear roll down your cheek and you hesitantly nod at him.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, I'm here” you hear him say as he puts an arm around you, pulling you closer, and walks with you in the direction you were originally going in.
After a few moments, you hear the footsteps behind you, again, but this time they started to sound more distant, as if the creepy, old guy was walking away.
Your heart starts calming down a bit as you both walk silently for a few minutes.
You then feel the boy remove his arm from around you and you slightly stumble.
‘Was he supporting me this whole time..?’ you think to yourself as you try to steady yourself back on your own feet.
He turns around, “I’m sure he’s gone by now” he tells you, looking back at you.
You turn around to check as well, and feel yourself finally be able to breathe again when you don’t see anyone behind you. You look back at the boy and nod.
“You live around here?” he asks you and you finally notice where you were.
Realizing you were only about a block away from your house, you stop.
“What?” the boy asks as he turns around to face you, when he realizes you weren't walking next to him anymore.
“This is me” you answer quickly, pointing to a random building you were standing in front of.
He was nice enough to help you back there, so, it's not that you weren’t thankful, but you were still feeling a bit anxious, and you didn’t want to take any chances.
“Oh,” the boy says, looking up at the building you pointed to, then looks back to you, “I'll watch you go in” he continues, putting his hands in his pockets.
“Oh, uhm, okay..” you nervously say, turning to the building.
‘Shit... I hope the entrance door isn’t locked...’
You reach for the door and push it.
‘Oh, thank god...’ you sigh, relieved.
You quickly turn back to look at him again, and notice his eyes following you.
“Thank you”
He just nods at you, a blank expression still on his face.
You get inside the building and the door closes behind you. You weren’t sure if he was looking so you make your way to the elevators. You pretend you pressed a button, hoping he stopped looking at you through the glass door at that point.
You look behind you and notice he wasn’t there anymore, so you run slowly towards the door and see him walking away.
You place a hand on your heart, and sigh again. You close your eyes and take a few deep breaths.
‘Why does it feel like it’s been a really long night...?’
You decide to wait for a few minutes, making sure he wouldn’t still be around the area when you try to run to where you actually lived. It was probably a couple of buildings away so, if you make a quick run for it, you think, you would definitely make it.
You open the glass door slowly and take a quick peak around the street.
‘Nobody’s here...’
You take a quick breath before you make a run for it.
As you thought, it easily took you a minute or two to get to your building. You quickly push the entrance door and run to elevators.
As soon as it arrives, you get in and press the floor you lived on.
A few moments pass before the elevator doors open and you can't help but breathe a sigh of relief as you’re welcomed with your usual empty, but now comforting hallway.
You step out and head for your apartment when you notice someone standing at the door opposite yours at the end of that hallway, trying to unlock it.
‘Oh, it’s probably the new tenant...’ you think as you walk to your door.
It was pretty silent so you decide to at least welcome them, hoping it would make the awkward silence less... awkward.
“Hey,” you say turning to face them when you get to your door, “You’re the new tenant, righ-” but you quickly stop and your eyes widen when the person turns around to face you.
‘Wait, isn’t he the guy that just walked me back ‘home’??’
He still carried a blank expression on his face, but you notice his eyes slightly widen when he notices who you were as well.
‘Fuck, Fuck, Fuck... What do I say?’ you panic as you both stand there, looking at each other.
“Oh, you live here?” he breaks the silence, sounding pretty calm.
“Oh, yeah,” you say turning around and quickly unlock your door and go in, “Goodnight!” you yell, panicked.
You accidentally make eye contact with him one last time before you swiftly close the front door, leaving him there, looking blankly at your apartment door instead.
‘He’s my new neighbor??’
(HQ Masterlist)
#haikyu#haikyuu#haikyu x reader#haikyuu x reader#haikyu fluff#haikyu scenarios#haikyuu fluff#Suna Rintaro x reader#suna x reader#Suna Rintaro#Suna Rintarou#suna#suna scenario#haikyu suna#haikyuu rintaro suna#fluff#i love suna so much#gonna go cry real quick#thanks for coming to my tedtalk#hq bf#mi
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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 - 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 & 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬
DM ME IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE PUT ON THE TAGLIST!!
;mikasa ackerman x fem!lesbian!reader
;modern au, band au
word count: 2.1k
warnings: swearing, slight angst in the beginning but not really, fluff
i owe you guys an apology. i’m not very active on tumblr as of posting. i’m sorry about that. school has been hard on me and i’ve been very stressed. i’ll try to do better in the future :)
listen to the music masterlist
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Armin was discharged from the hospital only a day after the accident. The doctor said there was nothing extraordinary to worry about. But of course, even with this information, Eren still made a fuss. That much was clear when he walked through the door with Armin's arm slung over his shoulder.
"I didn't break my leg, Eren. I don't need to use you as a crutch," Armin grumbled as the two walked into the kitchen from the garage. He reached back to shut the door with his free hand.
Eren rolled his eyes. "Well, excuse me for supporting you in these trying times."
"I don't need your support," they scoffed. He unwrapped his arm and made his way across the room.
Eren gave him the finger, rather aggressively. The gesture wasn't reciprocated since the blond already disappeared into the hallway.
Sucking on a freeze pop, you leaned back against the cool countertop. "Welcome home, lovely. Have fun?"
Eren sighed loudly as he walked toward the freezer and got a popsicle for himself. He grabbed a pair of scissors and cut the top of the wrapper off into the trash.
He said sarcastically, "Oh, absolutely I did." He paused and shook his head disapprovingly. "He's a lot bitchier when it's us two. How's it been here?"
You shrugged. "So, so. Pretty quiet."
He nodded and pushed up the pineapple-flavored ice. "Thought so. Jean's gone today, obviously. Is Mikasa here?"
You huffed softly at the mention of her. "I haven't seen her since breakfast. She's been upstairs all day."
He frowned. "Oh, I see. Armin told me about the kiss, by the way. At first, I was gonna make fun of you for passing out but now that just seems cruel."
"You think?" You laughed lightly and rested both arms on the counter.
The sound that followed from him was more of an exhale than a laugh. "Listen, Y/n, even if she's avoiding you right now, I know she'll come around. Just wait and see."
"You're right," you mumbled, sticking the freeze pop in your mouth again. Armin basically said the same thing. Eren sent you a quick smile and patted your shoulder before leaving through the hallway.
You swallowed the remaining ice and threw away the wrapper. Noticing the bin was full, you took the trash to the bigger bin outside. Maybe doing some chores would distract you from Mikasa for a while.
Plus, today was the only day that allowed you to do so. Practices for the band's upcoming performance were every day until the date of it. You'd be rehearsing 24/7 since it was scheduled on such short notice.
It was going to be at a middle school some of your friends went to. The DJ they booked before flaked and your manager was kind enough to offer your talents.
Jean was meeting with Hannes and the school administrators to work out some extra kinks before the practices began.
The only day there wasn't a rehearsal was on Eren's birthday. You all decided it'd be best to take the day off to celebrate and set up for the party that would be happening later in the night.
The day passed easily as you got caught up on chores that weren't done over the past few days. The house was messier than you liked it although it hadn't been long at all since the previous clean-through. However, it had been a hectic week.
Speaking of hectic, when Zeke was there, he sure made himself at home. That much was clear when you made it to the living room portion of the basement.
Eren probably couldn't find time to clean up yet. Either that or he was just lazy because at that moment he was more focused on a pinball machine than the state of his living space.
His brother's suitcases were lying open by the couch. To be honest, you didn't love the idea of a criminal's possessions lying around your home. So, you decided that throwing them in a storage closet was the best option.
When you finished tidying up, you started a game on the pinball machine next to Eren's.
His birthday was in three days. The house looked a lot better than it did when you started, which was perfect for throwing a party. You could only hope it would stay that way.
After a few hours of playing games with him, Jean came down the stairs to let you know he was back from the school. He left when he saw neither of you were interested in what he had to say.
Once it got dark outside, you left Eren to his own devices and went to your own room to chill out some more.
Unfortunately, when you flopped down on your bed, Mikasa started to consume your thoughts again. In an effort to fight them, you turned on a show to distract yourself.
For the slow hours you spent staring at the screen, you couldn't focus, not once. No matter how hard you trained your eyes on the screen, you still thought about her.
Sighing, you got out of bed and walked to your bedroom door. You were careful of the creaking hinges, it was around midnight. Everyone would either be asleep or close to sleeping.
Except for Armin. You had no idea what he did at night but you knew better than to ask. However, he was probably pretty tired from the time spent at the hospital. So, there was a solid chance he actually was asleep.
You crept outside, checking that the front door didn't make too much noise. Your car was parked in the driveway since there was never room in the garage. The gravel underneath your feet made noise as you walked toward it. You pushed yourself onto the hood and leaned back against the windshield.
Drawing in a long breath, you stared up at the sky. You needed to calm down and clear your mind. This would help, as it usually did.
Even if it was a little chilly, it was warm for a night in March, especially this late.
The stress that bubbled inside you simmered down the longer you watched the thin clouds dim the stars.
Any negative thoughts you had about the situation with Mikasa or the previous days seemed to disappear the longer your focus was on the sky.
Gravel crunched and you snapped your gaze toward the noise. Sitting up, you were surprised by what you saw.
Mikasa froze when she realized she'd been caught. She held a white blanket in her arms and still had one foot on the porch steps.
"Hi," she greeted quietly.
"Hey." Your breaths were a tad ragged from the initial scare.
She came closer to the car. "What are you doing out here so late?"
"I could ask you the same thing." You took the blanket from her arms and she pushed herself up to sit beside you.
"The door to your room was open when I came downstairs for a drink. I thought you'd be out here."
"Oh." She knew you better than you thought.
She spread the blanket over both of your laps and leaned down on the hood of the car.
She looked at the sky but your eyes were still on her. "Why did you come out here?"
After a moment of silence, her gaze finally shifted to you. "I wanted to apologize. Ignoring you was immature. Plus, I remember how you used to come out here when you were upset. Above all else, I wanted to make sure you were alright." A blush coated her cheeks when she finished talking.
You took note of that and couldn't help but blush yourself. "I'm okay. I understand why you'd ignore me, though. If you didn't want it, that was probably your only option since we have to see each other so much."
Her brows furrowed and she sat up again. "What? Y/n, did you think I didn't want to kiss you?"
You blinked stupidly. "Well, yeah."
She laughed. "You can be so ridiculous sometimes. I've always wanted to kiss you like that. I'm just not great at expressing it."
Even more heat rushed to your face. You gawked at her and she looked down at her feet. Many things were running wild in your head. For some reason, though, there was one thing that was so prominent in your mind once you remembered it.
Out of all the questions you could have asked, this one came out rather bluntly. "What did you mean in your letter? What should I know?"
Her eyes widened, she didn't expect you to ask about that yet, and quite frankly, neither did you. Nonetheless, she answered anyway. "If only you knew. That's what I wrote. That's easy to answer now. If only you knew how long I've loved you."
She turned her face and made direct eye contact with you. She seemed to know the next question on your mind. "You never knew it but I've been in love with you since high school."
That can't be right. This is a dream. You're dreaming, Y/n. What the actual fuck?
"Are you sure? Then why did you ask Jean out when we were seniors? Why did you break it off with me mere weeks before?" Your mind was racing and it translated into sentences quickly spilling from your lips.
She still looked straight at you. Her facade of confidence was making you nervous. "I'm sure. Back then, I was so afraid of what I felt for you. Pretending the feelings weren't real and projecting them onto Jean seemed like my easiest option. For years I convinced myself I loved him. But it was never him. It was always you. I felt so awful when I realized what I was doing."
And just like that, the facade fell. Her words were no longer held confidence. She was afraid of how you'd react. She had little idea that you were ready to be just as vulnerable as her.
"When did you realize?"
Looking up at the dark sky, she pushed a stray tuft of hair away from her face. She continued, sighing softly before she spoke, "When I saw him that night with Marco, I was relieved that I didn't have to be with him anymore. When I tried to figure out why that was, I could only think about you. Every feeling that scared me before came back. I got so scared that I left. But, even then, they never went away."
You were having some trouble believing that this was actually happening. Mikasa loved you back this entire time. If she hadn't kissed you before, you would've thought this was only possible in your dreams.
However, things were actually starting to make sense. That whole time it was your fault. Every night of those two years you spent wondering about what you could have done to make her stay. It turns out you did enough. You were the reason she left.
But maybe you were the reason she came back as well. You could recall something Jean had told you a day before she came home.
"Why did you come back? You needed to do something?"
She looked back at you again. "I've just done it," she said.
Before you could process her words, she was leaning closer to you. Her lips were so close to brushing yours but she paused before they could fully touch. "Can I?" she whispered.
"You don't even have to ask."
When she kissed you, you felt everything. Her feelings, your feelings. The world was minuscule compared to you two. Anything else meant nothing at that moment.
It was the first time in a long time that you felt fully complete. You were a puzzle and she was the missing piece. It was like before, only this time, you knew for sure what you wanted.
Pulling away, you managed an, "I love you too, Mikasa."
There were no other words that would feel so good to finally say out loud.
Everything was clear. You understood.
Now more than ever, you wanted to be with her.
posted: 9/26/21
neptunetheplanet7© 2021
no reposts, edits, or modification to my work by anyone other than me.
#aot fanfiction#band au#mikasa ackerman#mikasa x reader#mikasa x you#modern au#snk fanfiction#attack on titan
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the plug
college au jj x reader
word count: 3025
warnings: drinking, cursing, mentions of jj’s dad, four year age gap (20yo jj and 24yo reader)
synopsis: you’re the pogues’ alcohol plug and jj’s favorite person
a/n: this was an anonymous request, age gaps are kinda sensitive, nothing here happens until jj is almost 21 but please be careful out there folks; also i got kinda carried away
You grew up in the Outer Banks, spent most of your time surfing or playing soccer for the local school’s team. Your house was near the Heyward’s shop, and you picked up odd jobs working Kook events all throughout your high school years. When college rolled around, you started working at the Wreck with Kie.
The Pogue and Kook rivalry never particularly interested you, it seemed frivolous, and after a brief stint on the mainland, you realized the world was so much bigger out of the scope of the Outer Banks. Your refusal to participate was what originally drew Kie to you. The two of you hung out after work on Friday nights, you had access to good weed and were willing to share. Eventually she invited you to a party her friends were throwing.
Honestly, you weren’t exactly over the moon at the idea of partying with a bunch of 17-year olds, but the idea of free beer and a night on the beach seemed promising. You figured you could say hey to Kie’s friends and slip away to walk by the ocean.
Until the afternoon of the party rolled around, and you found out that they had no alcohol. Kie scrambled to explain that the guy who normally sold them beer underage had moved and someone stricter had taken his place and refused their fakes. You sighed and stood, “How much do you need me to get?”
“Wait, what?” Kie asked, taken aback.
“Beer. You want packs or a keg?”
She blinked a few times, “We normally get a keg or two.”
“Let’s go.”
You led Kie to your car and cranked it up, immediately turning up the AC as high as it could go. She plugged her phone in to play some music as you drove to the nearest liquor store to the Boneyard.
“Stay here, I’ll be back,” you told her, and she nodded, promising to sit still. The guy inside was in fact different from the guy who used to sell to you and your friends underage, so you fished out your ID. You knew you looked pretty young for your age and had to resist rolling your eyes when he stared at it intensely for a few seconds before charging you for the keg.
When it was filled, he helped you carry it to your car and the two of you set it in the back. Kie stayed still and quiet in case he tried to card her for some reason too, but you weren’t too worried. Soon enough the two of you were back on the road, heading toward your house for a quick change of clothes.
“Can I borrow something?” Kie asked, looking a little nervous.
“For sure, Kie, take what you want.”
You were only there for about 30 minutes before leaving to get the keg to the Boneyard before party time. Kie was really excited to introduce you to her friends, they’d been hearing all about the cool college girl she’d been hanging out with in her spare time, and they were really interested to see who had her so enthralled.
Pope was the first to greet you, recognizing you from when you worked with him and his dad. He nodded at you with a small smile, and you returned it. John B shook your hand with a huge grin, babbling on about how awesome it was to have someone willing to buy them alcohol again. The last of the group, JJ, was the quiet one.
You weren’t sure what he thought of you at first, it was easy to see he was hesitant to just accept anyone, but you did buy him alcohol. He offered you a fist bump and a small smile before telling you, “Really appreciate the plug.”
“No prob, new guy was pretty suspicious, sorry for your loss.”
JJ let out a loud laugh and warmed up to you instantly. From then on, he followed you around. Whether it was hanging around the Wreck while you were working and he was free, or asking to smoke with you some weekends. Kie thought your new shadow was hilarious and she would send you videos of JJ talking about how funny you were or how pretty you were. It was…endearing.
And then you graduated college and got into grad. You wanted to finally move off the island, and with the money you’d saved up from the Wreck, you finally had enough money to rent an apartment just off Chapel Hill’s campus. The Pogues came with you to help you move all your stuff, which you were grateful for.
You let them handle pizza and went to go pick up alcohol for the group as one last hurrah before they left. John B picked through the bag you brought back with a watery smile, “Gonna suck throwing parties without our favorite plug.”
“Aren’t you dating Sarah Cameron now? Get Rafe to buy your alcohol.”
“He hates us,” JJ whined, “not everyone is cool like you.”
You pointed the bottle in your hand at him, “That’s right, don’t you ever forget.”
And then that was it. You were onto the next, without the Pogues. Or, so you thought.
You’d gotten a job at a coffeehouse just off campus while working through your grad degree. It was easy and brought in a surprising amount of tips, and the atmosphere was really chill, so you loved it. Mostly you dealt with regulars, until one morning. You had your back to the door when it opened, making another coffee, and you called over your shoulder, “Be with you in a sec.”
A familiar, slightly deeper voice, answered back, “All good.”
Whirling around, you grinned widely at the boy, “JJ! Long time no see, bud.”
His eyes widened and he laughed, “Holy shit, dude, you work here?”
“Have for the last few years. What can I get you?”
JJ smiled widely, “Actually, just got hired, I’m here for training.”
You passed the customer their coffee and wished them a good day before turning back to JJ, “Okay, go wash your hands and I’ll grab your hat.”
The rest of your shift was spent goofing off with JJ, every so often interrupted by a customer, and you showed him the ropes. He picked up on it pretty quickly, only stumbling through using the register a few times.
“What brings you here?” you finally asked.
JJ took his hat off and ran a hand through his hair a few times, “Family shit. My dad was an asshole and I wanted to get out. I started picking up extra hours at the hotel, but my dad knew where I was, so I decided to just move to the mainland and start over.”
“Fuck,” you muttered, “sorry to hear that. Everything okay now?”
He nodded, “Yeah, um, started taking a few classes at Chapel Hill, and Pope’s family is helping me keep rent until I get my feet under me.”
“That’s nice of them.”
“Yeah, I just, I needed to start over. And I saw the hiring sign on the door, so I stopped in a few days ago to apply.”
You nudged his shoulder gently, “If you need anything, gimme a call, yeah?”
JJ blushed and nudged yours back, “Yeah.”
Because of the small number of customers, most shifts at the coffeehouse were solo shifts except for opening and closing. You and JJ both had mostly afternoon classes which meant that the two of you were scheduled several times a week together opening and closing.
One night you had soft music playing while he was doing dishes and you were sweeping and mopping the dining area. JJ watched you dance around with the broom, small smile on his lips, and when you caught his eye, he looked away with a blush.
“J,” you called out, trying to catch his eye again.
He looked back, blush still present on his cheeks, “What?”
“You hungry?”
“Oh, um, yeah, I could eat.”
You motioned out the window, “That place has fire po-boys for cheap if you want to get one with me after.”
JJ stared at the lit-up restaurant across the street before shrugging, “Sounds good.”
Thursday closing shift dinner became a thing after that. One of you would call in your food and pick it up before going back to one of your apartments to eat and do homework. JJ had a quiet focus to him that you liked, it helped keep you calm while scrolling through mounds of research you needed for your final paper.
He had one afternoon shift a week, unbeknownst to you, and walked in for it one week to see you laying face down on one of the tables near the counter. JJ paused, glancing over at the guy he was replacing in confusion. Your coworker shrugged and clocked out without saying anything else.
You felt someone crouch down next to your table a few minutes later and he softly called your name. Opening your eyes felt like a chore since you’d had them squeezed closed for so long to block out the anxiety over your paper that for some reason wasn’t writing itself.
“Want some coffee?” he asked, as soon as he finally saw your eyes.
The thought of caffeine made you want to throw up, and you made a face before finally responding, “How about some tea.”
“What kind?”
“Surprise me,” you told him tiredly.
JJ squeezed your shoulder once and walked back around the counter to start making you a drink. You woke your laptop back up to see the word count of 406 staring you straight in the face, and just as you went to put your head back down, a steaming mug of tea was placed in front of you.
“That should help,” JJ told you, smiling softly.
And shockingly, it did. It was warm, and with JJ’s steady presence, you were able to knock out over 1000 words before you had to leave for your afternoon class. He called your name just as you went to push the door open and you turned around, “What?”
“Text me if you need anything else, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Unintentionally, you let JJ worm his way back into your life. One of the classes he struggled with you’d already taken so you fished out your old notes and tutored him for the rest of the semester through it. Sometimes he’d show up at your closing shifts he wasn’t scheduled on and sit at the bar doing schoolwork and distracting you. He did at least always help close which was a huge improvement from when you worked at the Wreck and he showed up to cause problems.
One night was interrupted when the door swung open five minutes from closing. You sighed, not wanting to dirty anything you’d just cleaned, and forced a customer service smile on your face. To your surprise, Kie walked through the door, beaming widely at you.
“Long time, no see!” she called out, opening her arms for a hug.
You beamed and set the rag down on the counter, wrapping her up tightly. She squeezed around your middle hard and you sighed, “Missed you, Carrera.”
“Missed you too.”
She sat next to JJ and the three of you caught up while you and your coworker finished the closing duties. You nodded at her to leave when she held up the garbage bag to let you know she was heading out after a trip to the dumpster.
Kie stood, “Okay, we have to meet up with everyone else, none of us have seen JJ’s apartment yet.”
“Hope you cleaned, JJ,” you told him, bumping your elbow into his side with a laugh before continuing, “last time I was there it was questionable.”
“It’s clean,” JJ defended himself, “you caught me on a bad day.”
“Bad month, more like,” you retorted, laughing when he flipped you off in response.
Kie watched the two of you, amused, “Wow JJ, you’ve come a long way.”
John B and Pope stepped out of the restaurant next door, hands full of food bags, before you or JJ could respond and greeted you just as eagerly as Kie had.
“Getting the gang back together,” John B cheered, lifting two of the bags in the air.
You originally had plans to drink wine and watch the new season of Stranger Things, but the prospect of seeing some of your old friends was too enticing. JJ’s eyed you as you shifted on your feet, “You sure you guys want me butting in.”
Kie rolled her eyes, “We thought you knew we were coming in. JJ said he’d tell you.”
“Hey, don’t pin this on me, I wanted it to be a surprise!” he defended.
Pope spoke in what you think was meant to be a mockery of JJ’s voice, “Don’t bother bro, I’ll just text her and let her know.”
With a laugh, John B added, “It was just like old times whenever we needed alcohol and you’d be all ‘I’m going to visit her at work today, we’ll just swing by and get some after, I’ve got this’. The nostalgia was overwhelming, J.”
JJ scowled at his friends as the teasing continued. You’d known about his crush on you back then, tried not to encourage it because you knew you were leaving and because of the underage situation, but it was funny to hear about it from the other side.
“Okay, so we headed to JJ’s place?” you finally interrupted, saving him from the merciless teasing.
“My place,” JJ confirmed and you broke apart into two separate groups, one in JJ’s car and one in yours.
Kie rode with you and took control of the music, like always. You smiled, “Really is just like old times, huh?”
A few weeks later, one of the Thursday night shifts, JJ seemed less enthused than normal. You didn’t want to pry but you were worried about him. After a few more half answers from him, you finally stopped drying the dishes, “Maybank, what’s going on?”
“My fucking-“ he trailed off for a few seconds before shaking his head and continuing, “my dad called asking for money. Apparently, he’s broke and he owes his dealer. I just can’t, god I can’t fucking escape him.”
He wasn’t crying, but you’d never seen JJ’s jaw so tense before and your heart ached for him. You dried your hands off and pulled him into a tight hug, “Your dad is a piece of shit and you deserve better.”
“Do I?” he asked, almost hysterically, while he tried to pull away.
You didn’t let him go far, “Yes, you do. You’re a good guy who deserves to be happy and successful and far away from his dad’s reach.”
“I wish I could see it like that,” he murmured, voice breaking halfway through. JJ’s whole body shuddered a few times as he fought tears harder than he ever had before. He didn’t want to break down in front of you and look like a child.
“How about you go get dinner, I’ll go buy some alcohol, and we meet at my apartment and watch movies tonight.”
JJ’s lips quirked up into the briefest smile you’d ever seen, “Stepping back into that plug role, huh?”
“Turn 21 then,” you told him, shoving him away gently.
“Two months, and then I’ll finally be able to start repaying my alcohol debts.”
“You’re going to be buying me drinks for years, J.”
He held his pinky out, looking significantly more cheered up, “I promise.”
You linked pinkies with him before pulling him into one more hug with one last thought, “You’re going to have to stick around for a while to keep that promise.”
He cleared his throat, almost nervously, and you pulled away, confused. JJ wouldn’t look you in the eye when he spoke, “Surely you knew.”
“What?” you weren’t really prepared to have the conversation that seemed to be happening.
“That I liked you, idolized you practically. You were so cool and older and you dealt with all my shit.”
“J,” you warned, not sure if you liked where it was going.
He let out a sad laugh, “Please just be honest with me, you knew right?”
With a sigh, you pulled your hat off and clutched it in your hands, “I knew.”
“Fuck,” he mumbled, hands shoved deep in his pockets. JJ looked up at the ceiling with a sharp inhale before continuing, “Fuck, I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable. And then I came here and started doing it again.”
And you had to stop that train of thought right there, “Woah, wait, it doesn’t bother me, JJ, you know that right? Like I do enjoy having you around.”
Eyebrows raised, JJ finally made eye contact with you, “What?”
“Well I mean,” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, suddenly unsure how to continue, “I guess it was a little weird when you were in high school, but it’s not so bad now.”
“What?” he repeated, faintly this time.
You rolled your eyes, “Fucking hell, JJ, really?”
He held his hands up in defense, “Hey, I was walking into this conversation ready to get rejected, let me be surprised.”
“I cannot deal with you, go buy the food, oh my god.”
JJ grinned at you cheekily, “Is this a date?”
You hated him. So much.
He grabbed your hand and squeezed, “Are you asking me out right now?”
“I’m about to rescind the offer if you don’t quit.”
“I can’t believe the day has finally come. Kie is going to flip her shit,” JJ told you, leading you out of the empty shop.
“God, what have I gotten myself into,” you muttered.
JJ stopped walking and looked at you with a soft smile, all traces of teasing gone, “Hey,” he got your attention, “thanks for everything, now and then.” Before you could answer, he continued, “Best plug I ever had.”
“God dammit, JJ!” you exclaimed and his laughter echoed down the empty street as the two of you walked to the po-boy place, hands swinging between you.
#jj maybank request#jj maybank#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank x you#jj maybank fic#jj maybank fluff#outer banks fic#outer banks#obx#the plug au
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Patience
~The final part!! Thank you for reading and supporting this mini series. I hope you enjoy part 5.~
Pairing: Axl Rose/Vince Neil x Female Reader
A/N: Reblog so others can see!
*Picture is NOT mine. Found on Google. Credit to the owner!*
Tag list: @littlemisscare-all @curly-hudson @julessworldd @madamsixx @headlight-queen @metalheartofgold @ginny-baker-sixx @mickmarstookmyheart @gunsngunners @bex-tothe-rescue
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It’s raining again, and the weather outside matches your mood. Dark gray clouds cover the sky, and lightning strikes every so often. It’s one of the colder days in California, and you tug the sleeves of your sweater down to cover your wrists.
Vince hasn’t spoken to you in two days, and you haven’t heard from Axl since your boyfriend threatened him out of your house. You spent that day scrubbing the icing from the kitchen, tears sliding down your cheeks as Vince screamed at you the whole time. He left that night to visit a bar with Nikki, leaving you to cry softly in your bed. He didn’t return until the next morning.
Two days later, your lips still tingle from the kiss you and Axl shared. It was the first time in weeks you’d felt something. Something good. Something wholesome. The tenderness in the kiss kept you wanting more, wanting to feel his lips on yours again.
In your heart, there’s conflicting feelings. And no one is there for guidance. Whatever Axl feels for you is strong. It could be love, and you’re not sure if you feel the same thing.
Of course, all three of the Mötley boys would listen to you ramble about your troubles, but none of them were experts in the dating scene. None of them had been in love before, with the exception of Tommy, but he fell in love with every woman he laid eyes on.
There’s an ache in your heart as you sit by the television, thinking back on the past three years you spent with Vince. Times that you hid in the shadows away from paparazzi. Times where you watched music award ceremonies on television, a pain in your heart knowing that you’d never be on Vince’s arm congratulating him. What kind of a relationship was that?
Even in the privacy of your own home, Vince struggled to love you and care for you. He wasn’t affectionate by nature. He’d greet you with small little pecks on your cheeks or lips, and his sex drive was usually through the roof, but being intimate with Vince felt anything other than intimate. It felt like a chore, and you were bored within ten minutes. With Vince, there was no cuddling or showering after sex, no confessions of love. It was hard to be open and honest with him about your wants and needs, because half of the time he seemed uninterested, or played you off as needy, clingy. It hurt, especially because you’d do anything for him. Mick had always said you deserved better. And Axl had said it too. When were you going to believe it?
There’s faint footsteps behind you as your eyes are glued to the TV, catching the last bit of a Skid Row music video. They were good, sure, but nothing compared to Motley Crue or even Guns N’ Roses.
There’s a change of scenery on the TV that makes you blink twice. It’s a live video, currently happening right at that moment, as Axl and his bandmates settle themselves into stools in an empty studio.
“Get them off my screen,” Vince calls from behind you. He sits at the dining room table, beer bottle suffocating in his grasp.
You don’t even pay him much mind. “You can leave if you don’t like it. I’m keeping it on.”
Surprisingly, he doesn’t fight back, but you hear him mumble a few curse words under his breath. The last words out of his mouth sound like a defeated “I give the fuck up with you.”
On screen, Axl is handed a microphone as more are distributed to the rest of the band. Tilting your head slightly, you drink in his appearance, obsessed with the way he presents himself. He’s more casual today, with both a bandana and a hat on his head, a short sleeve white shirt that shows off his unique tattoos, and tight leather pants that shouldn’t look as good on him as they do.
“This was a spur of the moment type of thing,” he says shyly, rubbing a palm on his thigh. Nervous habit. “We wrote this song in about two hours a few nights ago and the reason I was eager to play it today...is because I wrote it for a woman who I’ve been shamelessly in love with since I was sixteen years old.”
Something in the air shifts. Slack mouthed, you sit up straight as you turn up the volume. The sound of a chair scratching against the floor has goosebumps littering your skin, and before you know it Vince is standing beside you, gritting his teeth. He takes a long swig of the alcohol, wiping his lips with the back of his hand, before setting his jaw, folding his tanned arms across the front of his black muscle tee.
“So Y/N, if by some miracle you’re watching this right now, I want you to know that you were the only person on my mind as we wrote this song. It is solely, purely, for you.”
“Along with all the other love songs he’s written,” Izzy deadpans.
Vince’s eyes burn into the side of your head, but all your attention is directed toward the television as Axl begins to hum a soft tune.
~~~
It’s almost as if you forget how to breathe. It’s an easy process, in and out, in and out, but you struggle with something so simple as the song ends.
Vince hasn’t moved. His face is still visibly flushed, knuckles the palest shade of white as his hand still grips his beer, but he stands completely frozen, eyes boring into the television screen.
You shift uncomfortably on the sofa, pushing your feet deeper into the back of the couch underneath you, reaching out to place a gentle hand on your fuming boyfriend’s elbow. He pulls away, uninterested, and he sips the remaining liquid in the bottle.
“Vinnie…”
“The dude just doesn’t listen,” The laugh that falls from his lips is anything but humorous. It’s empty and dark. There’s an edge to his low voice, and while it’s not angry, it’s...cool. Even. It frightens you. “How many times do I have to tell him to stay away from you? How many different fucking ways can he come up with to get your attention?”
“Vince I had no idea he was going to do something like this.”
But hell, if it wasn’t the most romantic thing a man has ever done for you. He’d broadcasted to the world his raw feelings and emotions, and there was something so sexy about a man who wasn’t afraid to be vulnerable and knew what, or who, he wanted. And the song, so sweet and meaningful, confirmed your suspicions. Axl Rose, the little boy from the playground, the man who sang his heart out on live TV, was in love with you.
Vince shakes his head, clapping a closed fist into an open palm. “This is your fault, you know.”
You blink, standing from the couch, folding your arms over the oversized green sweater. “My fault?”
He takes a step forward, but this time you don’t back down. “You let him back in your life. For seven years you’ve been fine without him, but all of a sudden you meet him one day on the street and decide you apparently can’t live without him? Bullshit.”
“He was my best friend!”
“And I’m your boyfriend!” Vince shouts back. He takes another step forward, nose to nose, and with the strength you gather from your very core, you shove him out of your face.
“You’re nothing!”
The anger in your voice shocks you, startling Vince. He stumbles against the dining room chair, holding onto the arm to regain his balance.
The air between you sizzles with resentment as Vince licks his lips, chewing on the skin. You're both breathing heavily, neither one backing down. “What did you say to me?”
And everything you've been feeling for the last few years comes out in a wave. “I can’t be with you anymore, Vince. I can’t be with someone who is so controlling of my life. I can’t be with someone who would rather please his record label than his girlfriend. I have been waiting for you to wake up for three years now and realize that I deserve better than what you’re giving me.”
“What the fuck have I done that is so bad, huh?” Vince yells, throwing up his arms. “Tell me. Because I sure as shit don’t know.”
It’s hopeless.
He’s hopeless.
And there’s nothing else you can do besides give up.
~~~
You fight for two hours. Screaming, crying, followed by more screaming and crying. It’s exhausting. Somehow, after pointing out everything Vince has done to you, or what he hasn’t done, he convinces himself he’s never been the problem. And that’s when you realize he’s never going to change.
Your phone has buzzed four times in those two hours, but whoever it was would have to wait. There was too much going on, your head was spinning, skin sweating, heart beating wildly. You were on the brink of ending your relationship after wasting three years of your life trying to convince yourself the man, who was currently nestled in the couch nursing another beer, loved you.
Letting out a defeated sigh, your feet drag against the wooden floor as they carry you to your room. There’s a small duffel bag under the bed and you grab it, fishing out some clothes and stuffing it into the bag. Grabbing a few of your necessary toiletries, you shove them in the side pockets as Vince watches from the doorway.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m not staying here. I’ll go stay at Lei’s or maybe my parents or hell maybe even Mick will let me stay over, but I’m not staying here.”
“We still have a lot to talk about.”
The closet door slams closed as your blood boils. “No, Vince. We have nothing to talk about. Not anymore.”
You zip up the duffel and heave it to the living room, slipping on a pair of beat up Chuck Taylors. You pace the house for your keys, Vince following, watching your every move.
“I love you.”
You stop abruptly, spinning around, sucking in shallow breaths of air. No way. No fucking way was he going to manipulate you into staying. Not with those three goddamn words you longed to hear after such a long time.
“You don’t even know what love is, Vince.”
“Kiss me and I’ll show you.”
You find the keys to your car on the kitchen counter, snagging them from the tile. “I’m not kissing you, Vince. Never again.”
“Why not?”
“Because there’s nothing left!” Heaving the duffel onto your shoulder, you grab your phone and slide it into the side of the bag. “Fuck, at least with Axl I felt something!”
Vince freezes, veins popping out from his forehead. Fidgeting with the hem of your sweater, your mouth dries as you mentally scold yourself for the slip of the tongue.
“He...kissed you?” And for the first time in his life, Vince looks almost...upset. “And you kissed him back?”
Drumming your fingers on your jean clad thigh, you rub your palms against the fabric, wiping off the sweat. “Um…”
“Did you kiss him back?” Vince asks, emphasizing each word. “Yes or no?”
You can’t bring yourself to say it. So you don’t.
But no answer is always an answer.
In a flash, Vince is flying out the door, and you’re following just behind him. He throws open the door to his car, turning the key in the ignition, and fishes his phone from his jeans pockets, quickly dialing before holding it to his ear. “Sixx, what’s the address to Slash’s apartment? He still lives with the rest of ‘em, right?”
All the blood rushes to your cheeks when you realize what Vince is about to do. Throwing yourself at him, you try to pry the phone from his ear, but he stiffarms you, keeping you from the phone. “Don’t worry about what I’m going to do, man. Just tell me the damn address, I know you know it. You did coke with the guy for fucks sake.”
“Vince, please don’t do this.”
A wicked gleam shines in his eyes, and you hear Nikki recite the address on the other end of the line. Frantically, you run to your car, throwing open the door, only to see Vince take off down the street.
~~~
When you pull up to the apartment, Vince is quickly climbing the stairs, cracking each knuckle. Grabbing your bag from the passenger’s seat, you stagger out of the car, locking it, before climbing the steps two at a time. “Vince, stop!”
He sprints down the hall, too fast for you as you heave the bag further up your shoulder. You watch as he knocks loud and hard on the door, and when it opens, he forces himself inside the apartment.
You hear Duff’s voice. “What the fuck--.” He peeks his head out, eyes widening when he sees you hobbling over. “Y/N? What is going on?”
By the time you reach the door, Vince has Axl pinned against the wall. From the kitchen, Izzy watches, horrified, as Steven and Slash pull on Vince’s shoulders.
“Stop!” Dropping the duffel by the door, you sprint across the room, pulling the two boys away. The last thing you need is someone getting hurt. “Vince, get off him!”
By some miracle, he lets go.
“You want to tell us what’s going on?” Steven directs to no one in particular, hands on his waist.
“How many times do I need to threaten you, Rose?” Vince asks, nostrils flaring as he glares at the startled redhead. “Because clearly, once wasn’t fucking enough.”
“Vin--.”
“She doesn’t fucking want you,” Vince continues. Axl fidgets under his gaze. “No song, no kiss, and yeah, I fucking know about that, too, will ever make her want you. You’re a pathetic excuse of a man. Your daddy didn’t want you, your step-daddy didn’t want you, and my girlfriend sure as fuck doesn’t want you.”
Your heart stills when Axl’s face falls. His father had always been a touchy subject. Though Axl hadn’t remembered much about his biological dad, there was still trauma hidden deep within as his brain tried to block it out. You were the first person Axl had told about the abuse, as he was a victim of both his biological father and step father. You were there for him then, and just like you promised all those years ago, you’d be here for him now.
Vince backs away and you seize the advantage, positioning your body between them. Letting an open palm fall behind you, your heart bursts with love when another hand slides into yours.
Vince eyes your entwined hands, letting out a shaky laugh. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“We’re done, Vince. You have hurt me for the very last time, and I will not stand here and let you hurt Axl. I simply won’t. Axl is a good man with a good heart and he always has been. And I know he loves me. He’s proved it,” Glancing back over your shoulder, you offer Axl a smile. His eyes are full of love as he watches you, squeezing your hand encouragingly. “And that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
There’s nothing Vince can say. He can’t fix it. He can’t change. He’s lost you to a better man, a man that knows what he wants, and how to love someone the way they need to be loved.
He looks around the room, fists balled by his sides. Frowns, narrowed eyes, and bared teeth are directed toward him.
From the kitchen, Izzy is the first one to open his mouth. “You have three seconds to get your ass out that door before I call the police.”
With burning eyes, Vince backs away to the door, keeping his gaze locked on your face. “You’re going to regret this.”
He’s met with a confident shake of your head. “No, I don’t think I will.”
At the door, Duff gives Vince a warning stare. The blonde bassist towers over the scrawny blonde singer, looking even more intimidating in his leather apparel. Vince gives him a look before crossing the threshold, and Duff doesn’t hesitate shutting the door in his face.
Tension leaves your shoulders, the boys in the room letting out loud sighs of relief. You turn, lips turning upward. “I heard the song.”
Axl’s face softens. Sliding his hands around the sides of your neck, he pulls you close, foreheads just barely touching. “I figured. And you should know I meant every word.”
You don’t care that there are four boys watching you.
You don’t care that your eyes are shining with unshed tears.
You don’t care that you just ended a three year relationship.
All you care about is the moment when you push forward and kiss the lips in front of you with a fervent need. Arms circle your waist, pulling you deep as lips kiss you deeper. You cling to Axl’s shirt, never wanting to be apart from him again. But you know in your heart he’ll never let you go.
The warmth of his body dissipates when you pull back for a breath, the tips of your fingers grazing over the angles of his jaw, his cheekbones, and slowly coming back to the outline of his lips. They purse together, gently kissing the soft pads of your skin.
“I don’t want to rush anything,” Axl murmurs, and the butterflies in your stomach flutter at the sincerity in his voice.
“Oh, bullshit,” Duff laughs, leaning against the door. “He’d marry you tomorrow if he could.”
“Lovesick fool,” Slash chuckles in agreement, arm resting on Izzy’s shoulder.
“They’re not entirely wrong,” Axl says with a wink. “But the name of the song is Patience for a reason. We have all the time in the world, sugar.”
“I mean, you waited over seven years already, what’s another seven?” Steven jokes heartily.
Hands sliding around Axl’s neck, you pull him toward you once more. He dips to kiss you, and you savor in the feeling. Yeah, you’ll definitely get used to this.
“According to Izzy, you have a few other songs you wrote for me,” you say with a wiggle of your brows. “What do you say you sing them for me?”
In those perfect gray eyes, there’s nothing but love. And you feel it in your heart that you’re beginning to love him, too. Maybe you won’t have to be patient after all. Love is natural, and with Axl, you don’t have to force it.
He whisks you away to his room, serenading you as you lie comfortably in his arms. He knows the songs by heart, and each one is unquestionably unique with different tones and melodies.
Turning in his arms, he continues to sing as you gaze at his face. So calm. So peaceful. So breathtakingly beautiful. And you realize now that somewhere in your heart, you had always loved that little boy on the playground.
And you were in love with the man he became.
#axl rose#axl rose imagine#axl rose fanfic#axl rose fic#axl rose fanfiction#axl rose x reader#axl rose x you#axl rose x y/n#axl rose x female reader#axl rose guns n roses#axl rose gnr#guns n roses#guns n roses imagine#guns n roses fanfic#guns n roses fanfiction#guns n roses fic#gnr#gnr fanfic#gnr fanfiction#gnr fic#gnr imagine#vince neil#vince neil imagine#vince neil fanfic#vince neil fanfiction#vince neil fic#motley crue#motley crue fanfiction#motley crue fic#motley crue fanfic
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Kinktober Day 1 - John Seed x Mari Roosevelt
@faithsgate and I are undertaking @lustyargonianmaid‘s Kinktober prompt list this year! To kick it all off, we have her very own Mari Roosevelt and John Seed, doing things Joseph would certainly not approve of.
01. Mutual Masturbation
It began as a joke. John was pacing through his bedroom, back and forth in front of the bay window, talking at Mari as she sat on the bed with one leg hooked over the other. He went on and on, ranting about the latest lecture he got from Joseph.
“It’s not fair,” he insisted petulantly, gesturing vaguely with his hands. “Why should he care so much about ‘fornication’ when he was in Diana’s bed six days after their first meeting? Six! I honestly don’t know if I should be impressed with Joseph or concerned for Diana.”
Mari winced. “Ouch.”
“Yes! Ouch is right! Ouch for us, since someone can’t keep his nose out of his brothers’ business. I don’t see him scolding Jacob for fraternizing with his own prisoner.”
“Wasn’t I technically your prisoner when you started giving me those bedroom eyes, John?”
He stopped in his tracks and glowered at her. “That,” he spat, “was different.” Then, under his breath: “You aren’t an inbred hick like she is. I really, really wish Diana had gutted her right there. But no, Jacob just had to go between them to protect his little whore.”
Mari tsked quietly. “My, my, Johnathan. If your brother could hear you talk like this…”
“Oh, don’t you start too.” He sighed bitterly and resumed pacing. “How two women with the same sweet name could be so wildly different is baffling.”
“Hey, I have an extra N.”
“And that is why you are superior,” he said with a sly smile.
Mari returned the expression. “You charmer.”
“It doesn’t make sense. Why should Joseph feel the need to police my personal life?” He shook his head, scowling at the floor. “I am perfectly capable of being responsible with my relationships. He’s treating me like a naughty child. Honestly, telling me I’m to have no physical contact with you… ridiculous. ‘You should not touch each other, John,’” he sneered in a mockery of Joseph’s voice before groaning loudly and sitting on the sill of the bay window. “He’ll have to do better than that. He didn’t say we couldn’t touch ourselves, now, did he?”
He and Mari shared a grin before his expression fell again and he sighed. “Just because he hasn’t had sex for seventeen years, he thinks I shouldn’t have sex for seventeen years? Seventeen… my god, how did he even survive that?”
“Maybe that’s why he’s so, uh… insistent about this,” she suggested.
“You know, you’re probably right. It’s been so long, he’s downright forgotten what it’s like to be desired.”
“But, hey, like you said… he didn’t say we can’t touch ourselves. If you catch my meaning.” A smirk teased up the corner of her lips, and John followed it with his eyes.
He arched an eyebrow slowly. “Mari. You little minx.”
“What? I’m playing by the rules.”
John rose to his feet and crossed the room in three strides, his shadow stretching over her as he stood before her at the foot of the bed. “Why, yes, my dear, you are.” He leaned over her until she was lying all the way back, pressed against the bed, and he placed one hand on either side of her before meeting her collarbone with his lips.
“What Joseph doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” he purred in between kisses, trailing heat from her neck to her jawline. He kissed the corner of her mouth as her hands worked at the buttons of her shirt, and once she was free of the offending garment, John brought his lips down between her breasts. He kissed the length of her torso, stopping just shy of her waistband, where he forced himself to pull away from her with a sharp, exasperated exhale.
“No,” he whispered, more to himself than to her. “I should be… good. I should be good. But you, oh, god, I could tear you apart right now.” His voice bordered on a growl before he sighed, defeated, and sat up straight beside her on the bed. “Damn this. All these… rules, all these trials of his…”
“Babe,” Mari began as patiently as she could, “please stop bringing up your brother in bed. It’s… getting concerning.”
John looked almost hurt for a moment before his expression shifted and he laughed, dropping his forehead into his hand. “Oh, Mari, what a pair we make. You, enduring me… and here I wanted to give you a nice evening tonight.”
She laid her hand atop one of his. “What’s stopping you?”
His eyes flicked down to her chest before returning to her eyes. “Well… if we can touch ourselves… nothing, I suppose.”
When they shared a look of silent agreement, John stripped his shirt off and began working at his belt while Mari shimmied out of her pants and underwear before positioning herself on the bed, spread eagle, with one hand tracing slow circles on the inside of her left thigh.
John wet his lips as he eyed her hungrily, but he focused on his pants - since it was just a tad difficult to remove oneself from jeans that tight - until he was free from them. He let Mari get an eyeful of the sizable bulge in his satin briefs before he removed those as well, letting his cock spring to full attention.
“I have to admit,” he said in a lower tone, grazing his teeth across his lower lip, “I certainly do wish I was inside you right about now.”
“Tough shit,” Mari replied with a smirk and a shrug.
“Mmm. You want to be difficult, do you?” John traced a single finger up his length, swiping a bead of precum away with his thumb. “I can be difficult too.”
“You’re too horny to be difficult,” she answered, slipping one finger inside herself. “Aren’t you, John?”
As he watched - and terribly envied - her finger, he curled his fingers around his girth and slowly moved from the base to the head. “Should we have a race?” he teased with a crooked grin. “Whichever of us finishes first has to… I don’t know… do a chore or something?”
“As if you have any chores you don’t make your people do for you.” Mari slid a second finger inside and curled them upwards, pressing forward. “No, I think you just want an excuse to go faster.”
He squeezed his fingers tighter together. “Mmh. How dare you imply I wouldn’t want a moment with you to last a lifetime, my darling?”
Mari mimicked a gag and started working her fingers quicker as her cheeks began to flush.
John kept a steady pace with her, his eyes moving from her expression back to her hand. He couldn’t decide which to watch - to focus on her face and imagine he was inside her, causing every moan and sigh, or to focus on her hand and watch her unravel herself in front of him. He wanted it all. Greed or lust? Did it matter?
Mari, for her part, was perfectly content watching John’s eyes move up and down her body, and as much as she loved his immaculately kept cock, there was something special about the way he looked at her. He looked at her like nothing else existed. Like she, at least for this moment, was his one and only desire. That spurred her on, encouraging her to work faster, harder, and to let him hear every little noise she could make.
Her whines and heavy breaths were music to his ears, and as he kept pace with her, he found it harder and harder to stay focused on one part of her. Her entirety was what he wanted, not just a single piece, and god did he want her. Perhaps more than he ever had. He met her noises with his own, and the room filled with soft sounds of skin and sighs. His cock throbbed beneath his hand as he etched the sight of her into his memory to be recalled oh so fondly later, when she was inevitably out of reach. But soon, between his own building pleasure and an overwhelming desire to touch her, he forced himself to close his eyes and let his imagination conjure the rest.
When his eyes shut, Mari followed suit, and together, they illustrated themselves entwined in their minds. She gasped his name, her breath caught in her throat, and he moaned hers in return. She ground her hips down against her hand, envisioning his fingers instead of her own, and she came with a bittersweet cry. The sound reached his ears and it went straight to his cock, and he thrust his hips up as he spent himself across his own skin, as much as he wished it was hers instead.
He opened his eyes first and reached for a tissue to clean himself off while Mari propped herself up on her elbows and watched him curiously.
“…Babe?”
He smiled at her with all the warmth he usually had in the afterglow. “Yes, darling?”
“That was fun and all, but, ah… realistically, what, exactly, is stopping us from just… going all in?”
His smile vanished, replaced by a pout, and he had just opened his mouth to respond when a car horn outside interrupted him. He scrambled to his feet, jumped into his underwear and jeans, and as he fought with his belt, he peeked over the windowsill to try and identify whomever was disturbing them.
When he succeeded, mere seconds later, he groaned miserably and pulled his shirt back on.
“That is stopping us,” he said, stabbing his finger toward the car outside.
Mari got to her feet, tugging on her own clothes and following John’s gaze out the window to see none other than Joseph walking toward the front door, accompanied by a few of his followers.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” she muttered, half impressed, half infuriated.
John sighed. “It’s like he’s got a sixth sense for this shit,” he snapped as he hurriedly tucked his shirt in. He went to the door, but stopped before opening it, and he returned to Mari’s side and took both her hands in his.
“I know I have to go see what he wants,” he began, looking deeply into her eyes, “but will you be alright here?”
“Don’t worry about me,” she answered, shrugging his worry away. “I’m just gonna climb out the window like I’m your mistress.”
“Well, you are my mistress,” John said with a wink. “Just not an illicit one.”
He framed her face with his hands and studied her countenance for a moment, just admiring her, before kissing her softly. They lingered in the surprisingly chaste kiss until the doorbell chimed, and John pulled away with a sigh.
“Be careful, Mari,” he insisted as she headed for the balcony.
“I never am,” she answered before ducking out the door.
#far cry 5#john seed#john seed x oc#far cry 5 oc#deputy: mari gorey#faithsgate#gracewrites#grace does kinktober#i'm actually proud of this one#❤#nsftumblr
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Playing House Part 3.2
Previous installments here - the Reader is living with Ivar and Ubbe for free, in exchange for doing all the chores. She’s a kinky little girl who’s sincerely hoping one of them will take advantage of the scenario in more interesting ways…
Refresh yourself on Part 3.1 here
“You’re killing me in that maid outfit, Y/N,” Ubbe complains, voice rumbling thick from the darkness. Once his phone screen turns off, he’s even more shrouded in shadow over there on the couch. “Why don’t you save Ivar’s chores for later. I’ve got something over here you can polish.” You see his teeth flash in the moonlight from the window as he smiles at his own bad joke, but you’re pretty sure he’s not joking. Not if you don’t want him to be. You stare at each other across the ten feet or so that divides you. There’s something in these long looks Ubbe gives; a patient intensity he seems accustomed to holding back. Tonight, it looks much closer to breaking. Ivar is all cool, confident dominance; Ubbe seems like the type to just snap and go crazy on a girl if she teases him too long.
It really makes you want to tease him.
Your fingers play with the lacy bottom of the skirt, pulling it up to expose a little more thigh. You bite your lip and look at Ubbe from under your lashes. “I don’t think Ivar was done with me yet.”
Ubbe waves his hand, as if swatting at a fly. “Come here.” He shifts in his seat and, with a definite swipe of his hand, adjusts himself in his shorts. It’s so crass; but you’re already in sub mode now, the giddy trance of arousal that Ivar started now making you feel compliant and eager to please. For anyone, apparently. You take a few steps toward Ubbe, imagining the way his cock is evidently swelling just at the sight of you.
That thought – more than a thought, a memory really, of what you saw of Ubbe in the bathroom the other day – releases a throbbing between your legs that makes it hard to move. Which is fine, since you can barely decide where you want to go. Your hips want to comply with Ubbe’s request, just about as badly as they want to march you back into Ivar’s waiting hands. “He and I were… kind of in the middle of something. I think.”
Ubbe leans toward you. “But what if I want to get you in the middle of something too.”
This, you did not expect. Ubbe had been so careful, always holding Ivar back, always skirting away from anything that could initiate any sexual pressure…
When you don’t say anything, Ubbe keeps talking. “I’m not reading this wrong, am I? You and Ivar aren’t hooking up yet?” His eyes drop down your body. “But you actually want to play this game. The one we’ve been joking about since the beginning.”
It’s hard to be eloquent when your heart is in your throat. You nod quickly. Then you glance down the hallway, wondering if Ivar thinks you should have come back by now.
Ubbe sees the direction of your gaze. He rumbles your name, low and intimate, to get your attention back. His pale eyes flash as he explains himself clearly. “Now that I know you want to take this arrangement to the next level, I’m not sitting back and letting Ivar be the only one that makes a play.” His sudden grin is confident, charming, like an alpha lion. “And don’t you think the oldest should come first?” He leans back, settling into the couch with an inviting space left open under his arm. “I’ve been paying attention too, Y/N. I know you’re into me. And that you like to be told what to do.” His pale eyes gleam. “You like it a lot. So… come sit next to me.”
This is torture. Your foot moves one step closer, but your chest is tight with the worry that you’ll ruin whatever was getting started with Ivar if you hesitate much longer.
Ubbe’s eyes flit over to the basket of laundry you’ve left by the door. “Or I could carry that basket down to the laundry room for you, if Ivar really needs his clothes done right this minute. I’m sure we could think of something to do while the machine spins.”
A pornographic image consumes your brain, one involving Ubbe bending you over the vibrating appliance and fucking you until the timer goes off. Fuck, tonight is turning into much more than you had bargained for. In your daydreams, the boys were much better about the idea of taking turns.
The sound of crutches against the floor interrupts your writhing thoughts. Ivar’s coming up the hallway, and he’s about to catch you dallying with Ubbe. A chill runs down your spine and you wonder if you’re in trouble.
He hauls himself into the room, following your eyes to turn toward Ubbe on the couch. “Brother,” he greets, falsely warm. “You are still up.”
Ubbe’s chest puffs as he spreads his arms over the back of the couch. “The night is young.” He takes a swig from his bottle and stares at you. “Hard to want to be anywhere else when Y/N is walking around looking like that.”
Ivar steps closer to you. “Yes, the uniform is quite striking, isn’t it.” The possessiveness in his tone makes it clear he’s taking credit.
It’s hard not to shiver visibly at the way Ivar makes you feel when he stands this close, looking down the line of your body at such an abrupt angle that a few locks of hair fall across his cheek. Ubbe may be hot, but Ivar makes your heart stop. The face of a fallen angel. No mere mortal could resist.
He leans on one crutch, lifting his hand toward your chest, just where he’s gazing. You’re perfectly still, silently begging him to touch you again. “It fits her so perfectly. Highlights all of her assets, wouldn’t you agree Ubbe?”
You hear an appreciative grunt from the couch as you watch Ivar’s hovering hand, descending toward your breast.
You think he means to stroke your skin, but his fingers land on the ribbon threaded through the lace that decorates the plunging neckline instead. “I love all the little details.” He tugs at the bow tied in the center of your chest. “It wasn’t cheap, but it was well worth it.”
“A great choice,” Ubbe says around the mouth of his beer bottle. “A kinky dress for a kinky girl.”
Ivar whips his head around to Ubbe, annoyed. You feel your cheeks flush warm to be called out so plainly.
Ubbe doesn’t wait for Ivar to say anything. “You like both of us looking at you, don’t you, kinky girl.” He leans forward, lip curling in dark anticipation. “I bet you want us both to start peeling that thing off you right now.”
Fuck. To not have to choose. That would be heaven.
Ivar’s got other ideas. He sneers at Ubbe. “I doubt our Y/N’s desires are so simple.” He turns those storm cloud eyes back to you. “Anyone can fuck.” The last word is all but a snarl; you can feel the contempt dripping from him at the very idea of vanilla sex. “You’re here for something else.”
He doesn’t elaborate. But the look that passes between you says everything. Ivar’s right; you don’t want an easy lay, a night that blazes hot and fast and means nothing in the morning. You want—
He leans in closer, murmurs the rest of his thought for your ears only. “You want to be taken to your limit. You want to drown.”
A whimper slips out of the thickness in your throat. Ivar’s hand slides around your waist and you feel steadied even as it makes you tremble.
“Walk slowly back to my room,” he instructs, in that same quiet voice. “Do not look at Ubbe. Do not talk to him. When you get to my door, twirl once for me. Show off that short little skirt. Then kneel in the center of my room, and wait for your next instruction.”
You suppress a shiver, another thrill running hot and tight up your core at his words. “Yes, Ivar.”
He pushes a little at your lower back. “Go.”
You focus all your attention on your steps: deliberate, precise clicks of your high heels against the floor. You let your hips sway softly, striving to show both your enjoyment and your obedience, to be sexy while also conveying how seriously you’re taking this. You don’t hear Ivar following you, but you know he’s watching.
Your name bursts out of Ubbe’s throat, an insistent, tantalizing growl. It takes effort to keep your eyes fixed in front of you.
“You may have a turn later,” Ivar decrees, “if you must. If she even wants to.”
Nothing in Ivar’s instructions allows you to respond. It pleases you to know that there is still room to have both; but you are Ivar’s creature right now. So you give Ubbe no reassurance, no sign that you still think you will want to, as you step evenly past the couch and disappear out of his line of sight.
Still, the base of your spine tingles as you hear him leave you with one final, eager growl.
You almost forget the next bit of the instructions. With one foot in through Ivar’s doorway, you catch his dark look from where he’s watching you, and realize there was one more thing you were supposed to do. Leaning your weight back on the foot that’s still in the hallway, your cheeks flush just a little as you go into a twirl, fast enough to make the bottom of the skirt lift. The playful movement frees you a little from the weight of your nervousness, and you flash Ivar a girlish smile before you continue on into his room.
It’s still dark, lit only by his computer screen. The display is showing his music player. The playlist is called “Tied Up In My Closet” and you force yourself not to get distracted by looking at what’s on it. Ivar’s instructions were clear. You take your place in the empty center of the room.
He hadn’t told you which direction to face. You decide to look at his bed, putting your back to the door. You feel like there’s too great a chance you’ll be making an awkward or a stupid face when he walks in, and so you bend forward as you kneel and try to make the most of your curves, creating a sexy silhouette to be viewed from behind.
Your skin prickles when you hear Ivar come in. “Good girl,” he croons at the sight of your compliance. He swings himself close, then settles against one crutch by your side. You don’t move, waiting to be told what he wants next. But when his hand combs through your hair, you can’t help but lift your chin, yearning for more of his touch.
When his fingers stroke across your cheek you can’t help but look up at him. His ocean-blue eyes are positively roiling with dark thoughts. But he doesn’t act on any of them, just examines your face with his gaze and his fingertips.
He draws his thumb across your mouth; you part your lips, eager to spur him on to more. He pulls your bottom lip down, slightly; you consider sucking his thumb but that might be too forward. As crazy as he’s making you feel, you want him to set the pace.
“So tell me, Y/N, what is it that you like?” He pushes your lip back up and releases your face so that he can go sit down on the edge of his bed.
“Um…” you’re not sure what to say, how to start. He beckons you to crawl forward, until you’re kneeling at his feet and he can keep playing with your face and hair as you talk.
“I know that you like following orders,” Ivar begins for you, sliding his hand under your jaw. “And being looked at. Being watched?”
You nod.
He threads his fingers through your hair, just behind your ear. “And how are you with being restrained?”
That one’s easy. “Love it.”
A smile tugs at the side of his full lips, but he seems intent on remaining serious. His fingers tighten their grip against your scalp. “Pain?”
You whimper, and he tugs a little more until you answer. “Yes, some.” He relents his pressure, and turns your face more squarely toward his own. He inclines his head for you to clarify. “I-I’m not sure how much. But I want to try.” Your heart skips a beat as you look up into his eyes, then add two more words. ���For you.”
A genuine smile spreads across his cheeks; he’s touched at that little addition. You know at that moment that your greatest goal is to make him look at you like that many times again.
He leans down, and you think he’s going in for a kiss, but he stops himself before he gets that close.
“That is a good start. You know about safewords?”
You nod.
“I think the stoplight system is the easiest to remember, when things are getting intense. ‘Yellow’ if you need a break, if you need me to change something small. Say ‘red light’ if I need to stop completely, and let you out.”
You shiver at the faint imagining of what Ivar might need to ‘let you out’ of.
“Repeat that back to me.”
“Yellow light for a break, red light if I want you to stop.”
“Very good,” Ivar says, leaning back on the bed. “Now you are ready for training.”
You’re still a little disappointed he didn’t kiss you, but excited to see where this is going next. You’ll take this odd tension, the uncertainty and desire that feel hot and cold both at once, over a standard make-out session any day. Ivar wants to play with you. You can worry about affection and reassurance later.
“Go to the kitchen, and fill the pitcher with ice and water. Bring it back on that tray that matches it, and one cup.”
You stand to comply.
“Do not talk to Ubbe, if he is still skulking around out there.”
He isn’t. You try to keep your steps as quiet as possible as you enter the kitchen, so he won’t come out looking, and take down the items Ivar asked for from the top of the cabinet. They were part of a pale blue picnic set you had brought home last week, thinking they would fit well with your domestic fantasies, something nice to serve the boys from this summer. Not quite daring to hope that Ivar had been thinking about how nice the sight of you serving him would be, too.
The tray is heavier than you expected when you’re balancing a very full pitcher on top of it. The ice clinks in a pleasant tinkling as you step swiftly back to Ivar’s room. He’s still perched on the side of the bed when you return. He sweeps his arm toward the bedside table. “Set it down there.”
He watches your movements closely as you comply. “Take the pitcher off the tray. Put the cup in the center.” You do so. “A good thrall must be impeccably graceful, wouldn’t you agree?”
You feel your own perfectionistic anxiety bubble up, but in a mostly fun way. You nod.
“Fill the cup with water. No ice.” There’s a trick to pouring a pitcher without spilling ice from it too, isn’t there? You cross your wrist over the top as you pour cold water slowly through the spout, hoping that will work well enough. “All the way to the brim,” Ivar adds as he watches you.
When it’s completely full, you succeed in pulling the pitcher away without even one drop falling out of place.
“Good. Now carry the tray over here. Without spilling.”
You hold your breath as you grip the handles of the tray, lifting it as evenly as you can. Turning and tottering over to Ivar on your high heels is challenge number two, but you end up standing between his knees without mishap. You offer the cup to him.
“A good thrall must be steady, and patient, focused on her task no matter what happens.” He does not take the cup. “Higher.” You bend your elbows, lifting the tray higher than your waist. “There.” He peers at the top of the cup, now even with his eyes. The liquid is trembling, but stays in place. “Do not allow even a single drop to spill,” he instructs. “Turn around.”
The suspense is killing you as you about-face, carefully.
“Back a little closer to me,” Ivar murmurs, coaxing you to center your body before his with light hands on your hips. “Perfect.”
His touch disappears. He says nothing. You are about to speak, and then you feel fingernails raking up the sides of your thighs.
“Hold very, very still.”
Your arms are already aching a little, from the awkward height that you’re holding the tray, but the sensation is easily ignored when Ivar starts to caress you. His hands feel warm and oh so large as he slides them up and down your stockinged legs, tickling at the lace tops and the bare skin of your upper thighs. Pleasure warms your belly as he begins to carry out the promise his touch held earlier, before he sent you out with the laundry basket.
He swipes one hand up between your thighs. You gasp lightly and open your eyes just in time to see the water slosh at the top of the cup. You get a hold of yourself fast, before that little wave turns into a spill. “Careful,” Ivar teases.
You keep your eyes open, fixed on the water at the top of the cup, as the pleasure of Ivar’s hands intensifies. That first touch between your legs had been light, but the next is not, as he runs his fingers along the silk covering your most private areas. After a few more teasing sweeps, his hands grip around both your thighs, just below the buttocks, and pull in opposite directions.
“Spread your legs wider for me.”
You move slower than you want to, mindful of the water swirling at the surface of the cup, held in only by surface tension as you slide your left foot to the side, then your right. The warm hands running up your inner thighs, then playing along the line of your panties, are a bittersweet reward as you must focus on keeping your body rigid and still.
And that was just the prelude. When he cannot disturb your posture with caresses alone, Ivar pinches your bottom – one, two, three quick jabs at increasing intensity. The pain is mild, but meaningful. It spreads a new kind of warmth along your flesh, heightening the sensitivity in your whole lower half. When Ivar resumes his tickles and caresses, it’s even harder to stay standing.
“You are doing very well, pet,” he croons. “I see you need a greater challenge.”
From the corner of your eye you can see him reaching for something on the table, but you dare not turn your head. You hear ice cubes clink inside the pitcher.
On to Part 4 here
Taglist is open: @walkxthexmoon @swagmonstertoes @hanhanxx @perfectus-in-morte @xxdearlybeloved@littledeadrottinghood @persephone-is-here-omg @rekdreams247 @what-the-heart-desires @inforapound @creepshowzombae @tomarisela @vladsgirl@youbloodymadgenius @walkxthexmoon@funmadnessandbadassvikings @trashqueenbitch @justlovelifeblog @earl-aive @supernaturalvikingwhore @equalstrashflavoredtrash @that-was-not-supposed-to-happen @ceridwenofwales @grungyblonde @pokeasleepingsmaug @hvittysmutanon @honestsycrets @wuxiesalt @thorins-queen-of-erebor @writingfromasgard @tootie-fruity
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12 Days of Christmas - [Day 12]
A/N: Day number 12 for the Christmas coundown with @mattysheelies. It’s finally up. Sorry it took so long. I’ve finally uploaded all my entires. Masterpost to follow soon if you guys want one.
Prompt: Fake dating., kinda
Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader
Living on your own is hard. It’s rushing from one job to another trying to make just enough money to pay your rent and also put food on the table. It’s being stuck in a perpetual state of weariness. And yet it’s — liberating.
Billy drags himself up the steps to his apartment, the effort and exhaustion of today’s work settling deep in his bones. For a moment he wonders what life would be like had he stayed in Hawkins. Had he done as his dad wanted and followed in his footsteps working as a security guard. A “manly” job as Neil had described it then. A job worthy of a Hargrove man.
He wonders if he’d be married by now, to a woman with no backbone. If he’d treat her the way Neil treats Susan — the way he treated his mom.
He wonders and wonders but he will never know for certain because he didn’t stay. He got away. Packed his shit and bolted the moment they placed that diploma in his hands. Everything that’s left of Billy Hargrove in Hawkins, is the memories of those who knew him and a head full of What-ifs.
That is not a future he will ever know and he is grateful for that. But even so, the California from his childhood, all golden glow and soft touches, is not the one he’s come back to. This California is void of childhood nostalgia and dripping with the unpleasant truth of the real life — a tiny apartment with leaking pipes and the fact that he has to work two jobs to pay the rent for said apartment on time.
Everything’s better than Hawkins though. Everything is better than whatever future he would’ve lived through there.
He walks past the doors of apartments 1B, 2B and 3B. All of them painted the same shade of firetruck red. Paint chipping off of each door just the same. There’s a small Christmas wreath dangling from 2B’s door and a set of multicolored lights taped up around 3B’s windows, reminding him that the holidays are fast approaching.
It’s not a time he’s particularly fond of, never was really, not since he was very little. There’s only so much holiday cheer one can muster up when your parents are always fighting, often getting physical. Then mom left and before Susan came around they didn’t celebrate Christmas at all anymore. Sometimes Billy wonders if the holidays made Neil extra bitter. If it served as a reminder of what should be and what he fucked up — a happy family celebrating together.
Then Susan and Max moved in and so did Christmas. Only it never felt like Billy was a real part of it. Always on the outside looking in, pushed to the sidelines. Maybe had they showed up earlier things could’ve been different. But by then he was so bitter already, filled with so much fury, it didn’t make a difference anymore.
He passes by 3B, music sounding softly from inside. Even though they are neighbours, Billy only knows the inhabitant of said apartment by the number of their place. It’s an older guy who sometimes gets visits from his grandparents and has a mean little anklebiter for a dog. That’s all he knows. In fact, he doesn’t know a whole lot about any of his neighbours. Back in Hawkins, everyone knew everyone’s business. Whether it was important or not, scandalous or not. People cared and people talked.
Not here. It’s live and let live. It’s fight your own fights, battle your own demons. Nothing more than a “hello” in passing shared between neighbours.
Well all except one. 5B isn’t 5B anymore. 5B is (Y/N) and (Y/N) is — different. She doesn’t give a shit about the anonymity the others seem to be so fond of. (Y/N) is all soft smiles and cheery “hellos” and invitations to movie nights and microwave popcorn.
(Y/N) is his age, barely 19. She’s a mom too. Billy’s never particularly cared for babies, but even he can admit that Rosie is an adorable little girl. She’s got big bright eyes always taking in everything around her with a sense of wonder than only kids possess. And she always seems happy to see him, always smiling with her one single tooth. Even though he’s never held her or played with her or anything, she seems to like him anyway. And Billy appreciates that even if it comes from a 1 year old.
He’s just about to put the key into his lock, when the door next to him, the door to 5B, swings open.
(Y/N) looks stressed, exhausted. She always does. Billy thinks it probably comes with being a young single mom who works a full time job. Her hair’s a mess, all over the place, a sweater is hanging loosely off of her shoulder and her eyes look tired. So deeply tired. And yet, when she looks up at him there’s a spark there. She always has a certain warmth about her when she talks to Billy. He thinks it’s one of those special qualities that most mothers seem to possess.
“ Hey you. “ she exclaims with a smile. Rosie who’s propped up on her hip starts to wiggle, flopping her arms up and down in her excitement as she catches sight of Billy.
“ Hey yourself. “ Billy replies “ and hello to you miss Rosie. “ He takes her tiny hand in his. It’s so small he’s almost afraid of breaking it. There’s a trust she puts in him, at her 1 year of age, that makes him feel warm inside. If this tiny innocent girl thinks he’s good guy, maybe he isn’t so bad after all.
“ Rough day ? “ (Y/N) asks, her eyes wandering up and down his frame. He wants to tell her that yes, he had a rough day. That work at the auto repair shop was more than slow and that the few surf students he had today were rich assholes who only wanted to learn it for the novelty of it and not for the actual sport itself. He doesn’t say that though, because really she has it way harder. He hears her leave her apartment every morning at 4:30 to drop Rosie off at a babysitter and start her work at the local diner. Then when she comes home she has to do all the chores at home and care for her child. She’s a real trouper. Compared to her life, his does not seem so hard at all.
So he shrugs, curls bouncing with the motion “ It was alright. Where are you girls off to ? “
“ Well, “ she smiles that little smile she does when she’s particularly proud of something. It’s kinda ridiculous, Billy thinks, that he’s so smitten over her he can already differentiate between the different smiles she puts on.
“ Diner had a pretty big turnup today and I got a pretty big tip. So because miss Rosie here was being extra good today I promised her we’d get some ice cream and go to the beach. “
Rosie smiles her big baby smile, a little dribble going down her chin. She’s a real sunshine. He hardly ever hears her cry and when she does, he hears (Y/N) sing to her through the paper thin walls connecting his apartment to hers. And only a moment later the cries turn to whimpers then sighs then vanish all together. But she continues singing. And sometimes that’s the melody guiding him into a good night’s sleep.
“ I’d ask you if you want to join us but you look like all you want right now is some sleep ? “ (Y/N) says, raising her eyebrow in question.
Really, until a few minutes ago that was all he wanted. To go to bed and forget about today and hope that tomorrow will be better. Though now things have shifted. He knows he shouldn’t be getting into this. He knows getting attached is wrong. She has her own mess to deal with and adding an emotionally scarred guy with daddy and mommy issues into the mix is probably the last thing she needs. It’s not like he’s asking anything more of her than a friendship though. This is just two neighbours hanging out. Having ice cream. Taking a stroll on the beach.
That’s all it is. Even if she makes his heart do weird fluttery things in his chest. Even if she’s all he dreams about when he falls asleep to her singing. Even if he wonders what her lips taste like.
It’s just friends.
“ You know what ? That sounds real good. “
And then she smiles again and he wonders if this is what every friendship feels like.
The setting sun casts the beach in hues of golds and pinks and reds. (Y/N) and Billy sit side by side in the still warm sand. Rosie, ice cream smeared around her lips, leans her head against her mother’s shoulder, eyes closed from the long day she’s had.
“ She out ? “ Billy asks, letting his eyes linger on the sight of (Y/N) and Rosie cuddling as the setting sun illuminated them in a golden glow.
“ Like a light. “ she replies then lets her words being followed by a deep sigh. One that’s heavy with meaning. It seems that now that her daughter is asleep, she really lets herself feel the exhaustion of the day that’s been weighing on her shoulders until now.
“ You alright ? “ Billy asks. Growing up, Billy was always alone with his feelings. Whatever he was going through, he was going through it all by himself. When he left Hawkins, he made a promise to himself. To be better. To do better. And part of that, is showing people he cares about that he cares. That he’s there. Even if he can’t do anything other than listen.
“ I uh — not not really. I don’t wanna annoy you with my stupid problems though. You got enough on your plate as it is. “
“ Ah, lay it on me. I’m big boy I can take it. “
“ Are you now ? “
“ Mmmhh. And I’m sure your problems aren’t stupid. “
(Y/N) lets out another sigh, shifts little Rosie closer to her chest and places a kiss on her head. Billy can almost see the thoughts running through her head, trying to assemble themselves in a way that makes sense.
“ So usually at Christmas I go and see my mom but this year she has decided to come visit us. “
“ You and your mom don’t have a good relationship ? “ Billy wonders, knowing he’s not seen anyone that could potentially be (Y/N) mother come or go anytime since he’s moved into his apartment.
“ I mean, she’s my mom and I love her she’s just — a bit judgemental. I know it comes from a good place and that she just wants the best for me but the thought of her coming to my place and listing all the things that I’m doing wrong in her eyes is uh — it’s a lot. “
It’s baffling to him that anyone, especially her own mother, could find anything wrong with the way (Y/N) navigates her life. To Billy she’s a damn superhero.
“ What could she possibly have to judge ? You have a stable job, your own place. You raise your kid by yourself and you seem to be doing pretty good at that. What’s there for her not to like ? “
(Y/N) raises an eyebrow at him, as if it’s obvious. “ I’m a single mother at 19. That’s a start there. “
“ But you’re a good mother. “
She shrugs “ I hope I am but it doesn’t matter to my mom. It matters that Rosie was born out of wedlock. It marries that I dumped her dad after he cheated on me. It matters that I am alone and apparently Rosie doesn’t have a strong male parental figure to look up to which, according to my dear mother, will hinder her future development and makes her develop unhealthy relationships with men. “
“ Jesus. “
“ Yup. That’s my mom for you. I think she kind of resents the fact that I dumped Adam. Think she would’ve wanted me to forgive him everything he did to me and stay with him for the sake of a seemingly unbroken family. “
Billy wonders often, if such a thing even exists. A family that’s not broken, one without skeletons, one that smiles and laughs and loves even when nobody's watching. And if it does, he wonders if it’s the people bound together by blood or if the most happy families are those thrown together by circumstance. Those that find each other in the dark.
“ I mean, if she needs a strong male role model you can always knock on my door. I am pretty strong if I dare say so. “ Billy jokes and raises an arm to flex is muscles in mock bragging.
“ I’ll keep it in mind, though I don’t think that’s something my mom wants to hear. You’re not my boyfriend so It doesn’t count in her books. “
His heart drops at that thought. And then, just a second later, an idea sparks. Like a firework on the fourth of july it starts with the sizzle of a fuse and then explodes with all the possibilities. It’s a bad idea. He has to remind himself of that. It’s a horrible idea. One that’s only gonna end up in a mess.
Don’t say it.
Don’t say it.
Don’t —
“ What if I was ? “
“ Huh ? “
“ What if I was your boyfriend. Just for — just for show. Maybe your mom would go a bit easier on you. We could pretend for the time she’s here. “
The minutes when she doesn’t reply, just looks at him and considers, seem to drag on like hours and hours and years and decades. And with every second Billy’s hands grow more clammy, his heart more weary, his breath more shallow.
“ You’d do that ? “
He lets out breathy laugh. If only she knew what he’d do for them both. “ Sure. “
She places a soft kiss on his cheek. He knows how her lips feel now. He wants so badly to know how they taste. But it’s not a good idea. It’s not a good time. It’s — fake, Billy. He has to remind himself that what they are doing is just playing pretend and once Christmas is over and her mom is gone, all they will be is friends. And that’s enough. It needs to be. Having a friend in her and in Rosie, that’s not only enough, that’s plenty. That’s grand.
“ Okay, let’s do it ! We should make a plan though. “
“ A plan ? “
“ Yeah like, where we met. How long we’ve been together. You know that kinds stuff. Have our stories match. “
“ Alright, when do you wanna do this ? “
“ You up for a movie night? “
“ Tonight ? “
“ Yup. I even have some cold beers in the fridge and microwave popcorn in my cupboard.“
“ Well if there’s beer and popcorn — “
“ Great, let's go ! “
It’s not the booze and the snacks that draw him in though. It’s her smile. Her enthusiasm. Her.
It’s Christmas day, the lights are twinkling in the window, the tree is set up, there’s a turkey in the oven and (Y/N), well she’s a full on mess.
Billy is sitting by the dining table, Rosie next to him in her high seat munching away on some spongy baby cookies. Big bright eyes trained on her mother who nervously paces around the living room.
“ Let’s go through it one last time. We met when you moved in and I asked you to take a look at my broken AC unit. “
“ Mmh. “
“ Then we hung out whenever something was broken and you fixed it for me. Makes you seem reliable and handy. “
“ I am reliable and uh — pretty good with my hands. “ Billy says and smirks.
(Y/N) raises her brow.
“ I am ! I work as a mechanic you know. “
“ Not what the look was about but sure. So we’ve been properly dating for 4 months now. Rosie loves you, which isn’t even a lie. “
Billy’s heart soars at that. Rosie really does seem to adore him. Always smiling and demanding for him to hold her. Billy’s spent quite some time at their place lately, puzzling together a life for him and (Y/N) that would satisfy her mother’s expectation. A life hat makes him wish it could ever become reality.
“ So we decided Christmas was a good time for her to meet you. “
“ Yup. “
“ Jesus Christ, I’m gonna faint. “ (Y/N) groans, fingers nervously combing through her hair. Billy gets up, places a kiss on Rosies head then walks over towards (Y/N).
Gently he takes her by her shoulders and turns her to face him. There’s a fear in her eyes he’s never seen before. A vulnerability almost palpable in the air. She’s exuding anxiety and he knows what it feels like. It’s the constant state he was living in when still in Hawkins. He wishes so badly that he could take it from her. Load it onto himself and rid her of it all. Thought life is no magical fairytale.
“ (Y/N) calm down. We got this, okay ? “
She regards him for a second, eyes drowning in his, as if she’s looking straight into his soul, his heart.
“ You think ? “
“ I know! Do you trust me ? “
Without hesitation she nods, sending his heart into overdrive.
“ Good ! Now uh — there’s something else we should figure out. “
“ What’s that ? “
“ Do we hold hands ? Do we — kiss ? “
“ I guess uh — I guess we should, right ? To make is seem real ? “
“ If it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. “
“ Oh no. No we’re friends, right ? “
“ Right. “
“ So it shouldn’t be awkward, right ? “
Wrong. It’s very awkward. Not because he doesn’t wanna kiss her. Exactly the opposite actually.
“ Right. Do you wanna try it right now? Get the first one over with so we don’t look awkward in front of your mom ?”
“ That sounds like a good idea. “
It’s not and Billy is well aware of this. Once he finds out what her lips taste like, the ones he wanted to kiss since he first laid eyes on her, he won't be able to forget it.
But Billy’s never been known for making smart decisions. So he softly pulls her closer by her waist, gently cradles her face in one of his hands and nuzzles his nose against hers.
There’s absolutely nothing awkward about this, in fact, he’s never felt like this ever before. His heart is beating faster, faster, faster. He wants her to take the last step. Give her the power over this. Even if it’s just pretending. Even if it’s just for today. She needs to be in charge of it. This is all for her. Even if it breaks his heart to think about this ending.
It’s hesitant at first, he almost doesn’t feel it until she pushed on a little harder. Her lips are soft and smooth and warm. She tastes like — well (Y/N). There’s no fireworks or butterflies but the true and honest realisation that he is in love with this girl. And that’s the goddamn mess he wanted to avoid.
She kisses him once, twice, three times. To make it realistic, right ? To make it believable. Billy gets absolutely lost in it, in her lips on his, in her hands in his hair — in her.
That’s until the doorbell rings.
Her mom seems nice enough, reserved sure, but that was expected. She talks a lot, mostly small talk. About Christmas and the weather and how nice California is. She asks about Billy’s family, talks about hers. She tells him stuff about family members (Y/N) has never even mentioned before and yet her mother deems it appropriate to air their dirty laundry to Billy.
She starts a conversation about Rosie, which is the one topic Billy feels confident talking about. Though she’s not his, he’s proud of her. She’s one of the few good things he has in his life right now and talking about her, being granted this little piece of happiness and feeling like he is involved there, part of something, it means more than he will ever be able to express.
Rosie is a real gem as well. Constantly asking to be held, not by her mother or grandmother but by Billy. It’s as if she knows they’re trying to sell something here. Trying to create a vision of something, the image of a happy little family or 3.
The idea of something Billy never had but so desperately wants. The one thing that always has been missing.
“ Uh, she adores him. Wants to be in his arms all the time.“ (Y/N) tells her mother as she hands her a glass of wine. Rosie is cuddled into Billy’s arms as if she always belonged right there.
“ I can see that, those two are two peas in a pot huh ? “
“ Totally. Makes me a bit jealous sometimes, those two “ (Y/N) jokes, a smile gracing her lips. A real one. A radiant one.
“ Is that so ? “ Billy asks. It feels like every boundary they set, every rule they put in place, is suddenly made of watercolor, spreading and smudging and bleeding into one another. The lines are slowly but surely starting to blur in his mind and he needs to remind himself that this is just pretend. They’re friends. This is fake. This is fake.
“ Sure is, babe “ she winks then returns to the kitchen to get the turkey out of the oven.
It’s fake, right ?!
The small talk ceases as they enjoy the food. God, not only is she perfect in itself, she’s also an amazing cook. If it is possible, Billy falls even more in love with her. If only this didn’t have to end.
“ So Billy, you and my daughter, huh. Let me tell you when she told me about you I wasn’t sure what to think. “ (Y/N)’s mother starts talking again once the dinner is devoured. She moves her finger along the rim of her wineglass like some cheesy villain from an action flick or a disney movie.
“ Okay. “ what does one say to something like that.
“ Mom. “
“ No, no let me finish. “
“ Mom, please. “ The anxiety is back in (Y/N)’s voice and in her eyes. Without thinking about it, Billy grabs her hand underneath the table. To his surprise, she squeezes back, doesn’t pull away. Maybe friends can do things like this without pretending. Maybe just for shared comfort.
“ I’m not gonna say anything bad, (Y/N). Don’t be silly. I think you two are — good for each other. Good for Rosie. “
“ You are ? “
“ Yes. Yes I really am. “
She squeezes his hand again. He hopes this one’s a good one, from excitement not anxiety.
“ I just wish you would trust me more. I wish you’d let me into your life. Tell me stuff. Not just when you two met but that romantic stuff that daughters talk to their moms about. Like when you knew you were in love with Billy. All that kind of stuff. “
“ I knew I was in love with her the first time I heard her sing. “
The word burst out of him like vomit. Like a tidal wave crashing against the shore with wrath and fury. It’s not a lie, in fact, it’s a truth he’s been holding onto for a while now. This might be more of a confession to himself than to anyone else.
(Y/N) looks at him with shock and surprise written all over her face. There’s a tiny smile pulling at the corner of her lips though it’s hardly noticeable and the confusion in her eyes makes Billy wonder if what he just said was the wrong thing.
“ I’ve never sang to you, babe. “
“ Not to me but to Rosie. I hear you singing to her through the walls. They’re paperthin. I fall asleep to you singing sometimes. “
Her eyes. God, her eyes. Everything good in the world is caught in her eyes. In the depth of them. The warmth of them. In the way they look at him as if she sees him. Completely. For all that he is and all that he ever wants to be.
She’s very good at pretending, he has to admit. It only makes it harder for him to remind himself that none of this is real. It’s all a game of pretend. It’s all fake.
“ You hear me sing to Rosie ? And you like it ? “
“ I love it. “
She kisses him then and it both mends and breaks his heart simultaneously.
“ Well I fell in love with Billy the moment he first held Rosie. “ (Y/N) tells this to her mother though her eyes never leave his.
Billy remember the first time he held Rosie, it wasn’t all that long ago. After they had decided on their little game of pretend. (Y/N) had asked him to keep an eye on her while she went to have a shower. So for a while Billy and Rosie just sat on the couch watching some weird kid tv show. That’s until Rosie decided to crawl up on his lap, then pull herself up to wrap her little arms around his neck.
He was hesitant then, to react, to do anything. Afraid of doing the wrong thing. She’s so small, so fragile. If anything happened to her — if he did one wrong move.
But as she started wobbling he couldn’t but hold onto her. Stop her from falling. Keep her steady. The way she rested in his arms then felt more right than anything in his life had ever felt. She looked up at him with her gorgeous eyes then, and she smiles her one-tooth smile. And it opened his heart in ways he had never known before.
“ You talked to her. You looked at her like she was the world and you told her stuff. Talked to her like you would to someone who understands what you’re talking about. She was hanging onto your every word. I knew I loved you then because you loved her. “
It hits him like a lightning flash straight to the heart. What he told Rosie then, was that he’d never held a baby before. That she was the first baby he ever cuddled. That Max had already been a child when they met the first time. He told her about Max and how sorry he was and that he missed her even though he’d never admit that to anyone else. But he knew then that Rosie wouldn’t judge because she didn’t understand. It felt good talking to someone about it even if that someone was a 1 year old.
“ I do “ Billy replies “ love her, I mean. “
“ I know. I think she knows too. “
He hopes she does. Wherever life takes them, he wants Rosie to know that for as long as they get together, he loved her and he loved her mom.
Later that night, Rosie asleep in her bed and (Y/N)’s mother on her way home, Billy and (Y/N) settle down on her couch.
A silence engulf them that is thick with words unspoken yet it’s not uncomfortable, not really. They both know, right then. They know that whatever game they had been playing wasn’t really a game at all. Maybe all of the pretending wasn’t for (Y/N)’s mother at all. Maybe the pretending was for themselves. Pretending like this was all fake. Like it meant nothing. Like they could ever go back to being friends.
Billy’s head rests on (Y/N) legs as she softly combs her fingers through his golden curls.
“ That went well huh ? “
“ I’d say so. “
Silence again. Then the clearing of a throat. A sigh.
“ Billy I — “
“ I meant it. “
“ Huh ? “
Billy closes his eyes, not able to look at her as the words assemble themselves on his tongue ready to be spoke. Too long have they been locked in his heart. It’s time he says them with all the truth and none of the pretending.
“ That I fell in love with you when I heard you sing. That I am in love with you. That I love Rosie. “
She stops her hand for a second. He can feel her breathing in deeply. Evaluating. Thinking. Wondering.
“ If you don’t feel the same that’s fine. I’m a big boy, we can be just friends and I’ll be fine with that. “
The she resumes the combing of her fingers through his hair. Gentle strokes, slight tugs. It feels wonderful. Heavenly.
“ I meant it too, you know. Every single word. “
Billy leans his head back to look up at her. They smile, both of them. He thinks this is his favorite of her smiles. The one she puts on when she’s in love. In love with him — holy shit.
Rosie’s small cries shake them out of their romantic bliss before (Y/N) gets up and hurries towards her room. A few moments she returns, the little girl cuddled tightly into her arms.
“ Look who wanted to join us. “
As Rosie lifts her head and catches sight of Billy she tiredly stretches her little arms out to him. Billy takes her from (Y/N), cuddling her into his chest while placing kisses on her head.
“ Hey little one. You wanted to hang out with mommy and me, huh ? Wanted to get some love too ? “
(Y/N) settles back down in her seat on the couch, hand going back to Billy’s head as Rosie rest softly on his chest. And as (Y/N) stars to quietly sing a song he’s heart through the wall so many times before, Billy thinks that maybe happy families can exist. This one right here, has never been happier. It’s small and puzzled together and they all come with messes that have to be dealt with and obstacles that have to be overcome. But it’s good. It’s so good.
And it’s his.
#billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove fanfic#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove imagines#billy hargrove fanfics#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things imagines#stranger things fanfic#stranger things imagine#12dayswriting
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Summer Dreams: One (ClemxLouis FanFiction)
Summary: Louis arrives at Ericson’s Camp for Troubled Youth for the third summer in a row. Most everything is exactly the same, except for the new, pretty, junior counselor with curly hair.
Warnings: Swearing and in later chapters some mature-ish themes (NOT smut though!)
Word Count: 2,218
A/N: I have altered some of the reasons for the Ericson’s kids presences (mostly Violet) because I felt like their backstories were too intense/serious to only result in going to a summer camp. Also, this is going to be a multi-part series, but I’m not sure how many yet!
The late June heat seeped into Louis’ mom’s car despite the air conditioner being on high. It was only 9:30 in the morning, and already 89 degrees, which was alarming since it was a cool 60 earlier that morning when they left. It was about an hour and a half drive from their relatively large house to the summer camp which Louis dreaded going to. To him, the only good part about it was seeing his long-distance friends, like Marlon and Violet. And maybe Aasim, too.
Every summer, his father decided he needed time away from his son, still not fully forgiving him for the mischievous frauds committed by Louis years ago. He also believed that since they were so well off financially, it’d be good for him to experience some authentic outdoor time in the blistering heat. This was really just an attempt to humble Louis a little, but everyone at Ericson’s felt he was always going to be a little spoiled. They still loved him, though, and knew he was a genuinely good person under all of his designer clothes and expensive rings.
Lost in thought, Louis barely noticed when his mom returns to the car, jiggling the locked handle outside vigorously. He reached over to the driver’s side door and pulled the handle for her. She smiled at him and slided into her seat, placing the bulk of requisite paperwork in her lap.
Louis groaned and slumped his head and shoulders back. “Really? Paperwork, again? They should know I’m a regular now, especially after last year because of the whole laundry detergent accident.”
“It isn’t an accident if you meant to do it,” his mother reminded him. “And don’t get all fired up, I already filled it all out for you.”
“You know, I bet we’re the only family that has to fill out all of that crap every year.” He turned to face his mom, prematurely smiling at what he was about to say. “I bet we only have to because Mr. Ericson totally has a thing for you.”
She rolled her eyes while trying to repress a smirk. Light-heartedly, she said, “You’re crazy. He probably has a lovely wife and four amazing kids and maybe, like, a golden retriever, or something.”
“Mm, nope, he has some kind of pit bull. Her name’s Rosie—she bit some kid in that area last year.”
“Anyway,” she replied after chucking a bit. “I’m sure if your dad was the one to drop you off he’d have to fill out all the same stuff.”
Louis adverted his eyes and became quiet for a moment before mumbling, “As if he’d ever want to drop me off.”
He didn’t mean for it to come out so bitter, since he really was more sad about it than anything else. A good relationship with his dad was something he had wished for every year as he blew out birthday candles. He prayed that somehow everything would change. Of course, it never really did.
His mom sighed and placed a hand against his arm. “He does love you, Louis. You’re his son, his only child. Nothing can break that, even millions of mistakes.”
He nodded, still not meeting her dark brown eyes.
“I love you, sweetheart. You should start heading into the main building. I think I saw Marlon and his mother earlier.” She said, making Louis perk up a bit in hopes of seeing his friend.
“I love you, too, Mom. I’ll try to call as soon as I can,” Louis scrambled, stepping out of the car. Quickly, he grabbed his two suitcases out of the trunk and headed towards the front court yard, smiling back once at his mom.
+++
The dining hall was a familiar place to Louis. He had spent nearly every night in there for the past two summers, playing juvenile card games and eating the same bland food. The chatter of dozens of voices, the occasional clang of pots in the kitchen, and the long oak benches had become comforting to him. It was always a place of good memories, with more to be made in the upcoming weeks. Every camp season’s orientation was in here as a meeting place for new and old camp members and counselors.
Louis and his large group of friends sat together, taking up most of a section in the back. To his left was Marlon, sent to camp for extreme anger issues and fits of violence. On his right was Violet, who was sent for “not having any emotions,” according to her mother.
“So, Violet,” Louis starts. “I see Minnie and Sophie aren’t here. Do you know why?”
She blushed a pale rose at the mention of her annual summer-time girlfriend. “No idea. Maybe they did some acts of good service or some shit and their mom let them stay home.”
“That’d be a real shame, wouldn’t it?” Marlon teased, poking his head into their conversation.
“Fuck off,” Vi replied. “Why don’t you and Brody go get a heads start on sucking face in the bathrooms?”
Louis chucked, “And probably other parts of their bodies—“
He was cut off by the shrilling sound of an older man’s voice—Mr. Ericson’s voice, in the introduction of the same bullshit speech he gave every year about their mission to help each individual personally.
“While we stick with the same foundation to Ericson’s,” he went on. “This year, we have decided to make a change considering our counselors.”
Everybody started chatting once again, most in hopes that they finally fired Larry, the oldest and strictest counselor at Ericson’s.
“Settle down, everyone,” the old man interrupted. “No, we have not fired anybody, though Larry has retired. This year, we have hired some junior counselors to tag along with a senior one. They’re all teenagers, like yourselves, so that you can really see examples of responsible, well-rounded young adults.”
Marlon shifted towards Louis. “You think any of them will be hot?”
Louis shook his head. “Nah. Even if, they’re ‘well-rounded young adults.’ They wouldn’t go for us.”
“Well, if there are any, I call dibs.” Marlon stated, forcing a laugh out of Louis.
“We’ll see about that.”
Marlon roller his eyes subtly before turning back to face the front.
“Alright, everybody! Start heading to your assigned cabins and get rested for the first day of activities tomorrow. If you see a new counselor, make sure to introduce yourself! They won’t bite!” Mr. Ericson said, making only himself laugh.
+++
Later that night, once the moon was at its peak and everyone else was asleep, Louis crept out out of the cabin he shared with three others—Marlon, Mitch, and Justin. It was still moderately warm outside, but thankfully accompanied by a brisk wind which would pass by every so often. Clad in just sweatpants and an old provided green camp t-shirt, Louis made his best attempt to rush over to the music and arts hall as quick as he could. Dirt crunched beneath his shoes, making him worry he’d awaken somebody in his pursuit.
Finally, he made it to the small building which held his favorite past-time at camp, the grand piano. He had always loved music, although most nobody took him seriously when they heard him play, except for his mom. Even Marlon couldn’t hold a straight face when Louis played him Für Elise, which he had finally mastered after three straight weeks of learning it. Louis kept playing, though, even if it had to be in the dead of night.
He tip-toed up the rickety stairs to the front door, grabbing the rusted door knob once reaching the top. It didn’t budge.
“Dammit,” he whispered.
Suddenly, a nearby door creaked open, allowing dim light from inside to drain out onto the ground. Louis pressed his back against the door, still peaking his head to see in front of a pillar. All he could really make out was the silhouette of a girl, appearing to be carrying a small plastic bag out to a trash can. She clearly wasn’t a senior counselor, leaving her only to be a new camper or one of the new, dearly beloved junior counselors. Louis figured he wouldn’t get in too much of trouble if he just started walking back to his cabin then. And he may get to meet somebody new while doing it.
He started making his way towards the group of trash cans where the mysterious girl stood, pushing down whatever she just placed in. As he got closer, he was able to discern more characteristics of the figure, like her curly hair tied into two full pigtails. While this was expected to make someone seem child-like, Louis could already tell from the back of her that she could pull it off.
Once he got a few feet away from her, he greeted in a muted shout, “Hey!”
She jumped a bit in her place, instinctively turning around, curly tendrils hitting against her jaw.
The first thing Louis noticed about her were her eyes—bright even in the darkness and the color of ancient amber. They startled him, but he still found them beautiful, enchanting, even. She was on the shorter side, yet still held herself as if she was tall. She wore a pair of black exercise shorts and a baby blue t-shirt, signifying that she was in fact a junior counselor.
He supposed he was wrong earlier that there wouldn’t be any attractive ones. This girl was so much more than attractive, though.
“Hello?” She responded, curiously and dragging out her word.
“Sorry to disrupt your nightly chores. I’m Louis,” he apologized before holding out his hand.
She grasped it and shook it, suspiciously. “Clementine.”
“Well, I guess I should cut to the chase. See, the music hall is locked, preventing me from becoming the world’s next best pianist. Now, I know I’m not supposed to be awake, but neither are you most likely. So I was wondering if maybe you could unlock it for me?” He rushed out, flashing a toothy grin at the end in hopes his charm would woo her.
Clementine sighed before looking at him quizzically. After a moment, she gave in and shrugged her shoulders. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to do. You’re lucky I have the keys to it.”
Louis pumped his fist in the air, really not expecting her to say yes. “Booyah! Thank you, Clementine.”
She smiled kindly at him and started walking towards the music hall. Louis followed behind her, jogging to catch up. He looked over at her and realized her eyebrows were now furrowed together as she reached up to her lanyard to grab the set of keys, fingering one silver one over the others.
Once they reached the cabin, she swiftly jabbed it in and unlocked it. As soon as the door opened, Louis could smell the scent of waxed floors and oak. In the back left corner lay his favorite piano, tempting his fingers to spread across the white notes. He cooly walked over to it and sat down, trying not to let Clementine see him get too giddy.
“How long have you been playing?” She asked, leaning against the cover.
“A few years, I mostly play when I come here, though,” he explained.
“So you’re a regular camper? That must suck.”
“It has its pros,” Louis shrugged. “You clearly aren’t the biggest fan of this place. Why’d you wanna’ work here?”
Clementine walked around the piano, sitting down next to him on the stool. “It pays well and seemed easy, but I don’t know if I’ll have this job for too much longer if anyone finds out about this.” She looked around the room.
“You really aren’t being that good of an influence on me, but don’t worry, I won’t tell.” He said, winking and splaying his fingers across the board.
He started playing a song from memory, not remembering which one it was. His palms felt sweaty with Clementine sitting right next to him, observing each melody played. She sat quietly, and from Louis’ peripheral vision, she was grinning loosely.
“You’re quite good, you know,” she complimented. “I’m not sure why you feel the need to do this at one in the morning, though.”
He played one more chord before stopping and meeting his eyes to her’s. “Maybe this was all just a master plan to talk to a pretty girl like yourself.”
She blushed, glancing down at the floor before standing up. “I should probably start getting back to my cabin. Need to be up early tomorrow.”
“Right. So do I, I don’t want Marlon to wake up and call for, like, a rescue team,” Louis joked, raising up next to her. “Let me walk you back to your cabin. It’s the least I can do.”
“It’s only like a hundred feet from here. I can handle myself, but thank you.” Clementine ticked her hair behind an ear before pacing over to the front door. “See you around, I hope.”
He raised his hand and waved. “Goodnight, Clementine.”
“Goodnight, Louis.”
She closed the door behind her as she left, leaving Louis alone, standing amidst the dying candle light.
He could feel his heart beating the whole walk back as he thought about the way she’d said his name when she wished him goodnight.
#clouis#clementine#louis#louisentine#the walking dead game#twdg#clem#lou#twdg louis#twdg clem#fanfiction#summer au#highschool au
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BTS Reaction: Doing The Laundry And Finding Your Panties
Warning: Slight
Pairing: BTS X Reader
Kim Seok Jin:
Jin walked home. His mind clouded by thoughts of practice. You were currently sick. Sleeping in your shared bed. He walked in, kicking his shoes away and closing the door behind him. He rushed to you, sighing with happiness in finding you relaxed and asleep. He sat down next to your sleeping figure, caressing your head gently before pressing a soft kiss on your warm forehead.
You stirred underneath him. “Jinnie?” You stuttered half asleep. “Hey baby, how are you feeling?” He asked. “Fine...I tried doing the laundry but couldn’t stand.” You admitted shyly. Jin shook his head. “Baby don’t worry, I’ll do it, you get some rest.” You nodded, snuggling back in the cover.
Jin stood up, walking to the laundry. He started working, listening to music. He suddenly picked up a random piece of clothing, ready to lay it on the drying rack but felt the frills skim his skin. He looked down. Your red lace panties were dangling from his hand. He choked on air. His eyes going wide. He bit his lip, shifting uncomfortably, sliding them in his pocket. A sly smirk on his face. “For later,” he stated simply.
Min Yoongi:
You walked in. Your heels clicking against the pavement as you unlocked the door and walking in. Groaning loudly as you shut the door shut with your heel. You kicked them off your feet, throwing away your jacket. Yoongi, who had stayed home that day stood up from the couch. “Hey baby,” he said softly. “Hey,” you growled back, plopping down on the couch. Legs spread, as much as your tight pencil skirt could permit.
“Rough day at work?” He asked, picking you up in his arms and placing you on his laps. You nodded sadly, hiding your face in his neck, rocking slowly backwards and forwards to calm you down. “Now relax, the day is over,” he said kissing your jaw. “No,” you groaned, pushing away from the bubble of comfort. “I have to do the laundry,” you whimpered sadly. “I’ll do it.” Yoongi said immediately.
“Aw, thank you Jagi.” You said.
He walked in the laundry, picking up the first thing without looking. His eyes widened as saucers at the pink panty he was holding. “Hey (Y/N)...”he called.
“Yeah?” You answered back.
“I’m doing the laundry more often...”
Kim Namjoon:
You and you’re adorable boyfriend usually split chores. Today was the day you cleaned the bathrooms and he did the laundry. Namjoon huffed. He hated doing laundry. He always managed to loose something or dye an article of clothing. He just couldn’t manage to understand the darned machine. He started grumbling as he picked up the heavy basket full of dirty clothes.
He randomly threw clothes inside. Accidentally dropping one. He groaned bending down to pick it. He froze when he realized what they were. Green panties with daisies. These cute panties held a special memory for both of you. On one of your first dates you were wearing a flowey white dress. You were both in the park enjoying ice creams when a gust of wind decided to show Namjoon what was under the skirt. The panties he was holding were the ones he had seen.
You walked in the laundry room, hair tied up and sweating. “How’s it going?” Namjoon turned around, panties in hand. “I’m liking it way more today,” he said, showing you the panties. You squealed rushing to him to smack him. Ending up in a play fight.
Jung Hoseok:
Hoseok was home alone. You were off on a business trip. You and him had been texting for the whole day. You kept nagging him to start doing chores. He had groaned and answered he would do them staring with laundry. He threw his phone on the couch, not noticing as it slipped down, behind the cushions into oblivion. He went to do the laundry. Huffing and groaning as he forcefully threw random pieces of clothing in the machine. That day he had to do all black clothing, so he was extremely surprised when he noticed a flash of purple. He quickly picked it up, his eyes widening as he found your purple panties in hand.
He bit his lip running back to the couch, panties held tightly in his hand. He started digging around luckily finding his phone. He immediately called you face time. You answered straight away. “Hey Hobi,” “Hey petal, let me do the laundry more often!” He said, smirking. You raised an eyebrow at the sudden words. “Why?” You asked suspiciously. Hoseok lifted the panties to the camera. “I’m sleeping with these tonight.”
“JUNG HOSEOK!”
Let’s say... the phone wasn’t needed to hear your scream. It could have been heard just fine without it even though you were in two different nations across the globe from each other
Park Jimin:
It had been a few days, that you were living at the dorm. And had decided to help around.
You were in the kitchen helping Jin clean the kitchen. Jimin was watching a movie with Yoongi. Hugging him tight as they decided to watch Train To Busan, which was a mystery to you since Yoongi hated scary movies. You fisnhed scrubbing the last plate. “Can I help in any other way?” You asked. Jin smiled. “Don’t worry, the only thing left to do is laundry but-I’LL LET JIMIM DO IT SINCE HE SAID HE WOULD LAST TIME!” He hollered, making sure Jimin heard. A groan drifted to the kitchen.
You and Jin laughed as Jimin slouched to the laundry room, while you both headed to the living room to watch the film with Yoongi. Jimin entered the laundry cursing you and Jin. He started putting the members’ various clothes inside. He stopped when he tried diving two things tangled together and found Tae’s shirt stuck to your panty. His anger grew. If anyone else had done the laundry they would have seen something which was his. He stormed back in the living room, yelling. “Hey! (Y/N)! How did you get the idea you could put...” he continue shouting. His screams drowned by the loud volume and Jin’s scream. The first person who turned around was you. Your eyes widened as you saw what he was holding trying to tell him with your eyes to hide it. He didn’t understand as he was furious. Luckily, your brother, Jungook, lazily walked out of the kitchen. Understandingthe situation immediately. As the other members turned around, Jungook leaped in slow motion on Jimin. Plaquing him to the floor. In result, the others only saw Jungook yelling and bascislly throwing Jimin to the floor. You sighed a breath of relief, telling yourself to not do it anymore.
Kim Taehyung:
It had been a lazy day at the beginning. You only wearing a pair of panties and Tae’s shirt. Him only wearing sweatpants. You had been sprawled over each other cuddling as you watched My ID is Gangnam Beauty. That’s when your parants had decided to plunge the whole day in chaos by sending a text message saying they were thirty minutes away and ready to visit. This resulted in both of you jumping up and running around the house trying to clean up everything. You were stuffing things underneath the couch trying to hide them as Taehyung rushed to the bathroom arms full of dirty clothes. In his messy wobble he had lost a piece.
“Hey, you forgot something!” You hollered back at him as you stuffed a pair of Tae’s sock in the closet. Taehyung popped his head out of the laundry room almost tripping. “Throw it to me!” You hastily picked it up throwing it at him. Tae didn’t manage to catch it, the article of clothing splattered on his face. You’re sexy black panties. Hooking on Tae’s earing. Right as his hands moved to untangle it, your door beeped. Signaling the door had been unlocked using the lock pad. Your parents walked in. “Hi Honey!” Your dad said, smiling. Freezing as he stepped in the living room and found Tae with your panties dangling from Tae’s ear. Your mother cocked her head in confusion. Your dad was furious. “What is going on here?!” He hissed softly. “Nothing!” You both shouted. That day, the visit was full of awkwardness.
Jeon Jungook:
Today was the day. The day you’d teach Jungook how to do the laundry. You were both set in front the laundry machine. You had told him everything, while Jungook was listening to you with big, wide eyes. “Okay! Let’s try!” You said happily, walking to the basket. He followed you. This soon became a fun task laughing and talking. “And so, Jimin was terrified!” You said laughing, not hearing Jungook laugh as well. “Jagi?” You asked as you turned around.
You found him smirking at you in a goofy way, a pair of your panties on his head. You giggled walking closer to him. “Dumbo,” You said. “Only for you,” he said as he swooped down to lock you in his embrace while kissing you. You deepened the kiss, Jungook groaned. This led to a very heavy make out session...which led to something else if you know what I mean.
There you go! My first post hope you enjoy! Please leave requests!!!
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So, new HC this afternoon. Here in the states they had on a special honoring Andrew Lloyd Webber and all I could imagine was Maxwell, Fran and N/CC watching it. The whole show max just whines and claims all the facts are wrong and "that play wasn't really that great" and the whole time N/CC trade whispered jokes and make fun of how dramatic he is behind his back. He's oblivious but Fran hears and keeps supporting her husband while trying not to laugh. Can you write something like this for me?
This was actually an awesome idea, Anon, thank you! Sorry it took a while, I’ve had a busy couple of days between uni, a doctor’s appointment, and my brother moving out of the house. I hope it’s worth it - enjoy!
@missbabcocks1 @holomoriarty
Niles had been finishing up his chores for the evening whenhe saw it – Fran curled up on the living room sofa, her arms wrapped around a largebowl of popcorn, and her eyes fixed on the television screen.
Usually there wouldn’t be anything strange about it. It was,after all, her usual routine when Maxwell and C.C. were busy making importantphone calls to the studio workers in the office, and all of the children were elsewherewith their friends. She’d put her feet up, fetch herself a snack or get him tomake one for her, and watch a rom-com or something until their spouses came in,finally finished from a long day’s work.
But what Fran was currently watching looked like a televisionprogramme – and not one of her usual Netflix bouts.
He approached the back of the sofa, “What are you watching?”
“It’s that NBC special, the one markin’ Andrew LloydWebber’s birthday – oh! I cannot believe that man is seventy and still doin’theatre musicals like he does,” Fran answered, grabbing another handful ofpopcorn. “You’d’ve thought that after the knighthood and then the lordship andall the royalties on top o’ that, he’d decide enough was enough and retire offsomewhere, but no.”
“Hm, I suppose some people just live for what they do,”Niles set down the papers he’d been tidying away and rounded the corner of thesofa to take a seat as well. “Pass the popcorn this way.”
She did so, and he settled into watching along with her. Theprogramme was actually quite interesting and enjoyable, once you got into it.
But still there were more interesting things to the butler,and one of them made herself known with the familiar clicking of heels againstthe hardwood floor. C.C. must have finished her work for the evening, and comedown to join them for an evening of light entertainment.
He smiled up at her as she came in, and she stared back theminute she noticed what was on the screen.
“Why are you watching this?” she asked, slightly incredulous.“You both know how much Maxwell hates Andrew Lloyd Webber!”
Niles shrugged back at his wife, “He’s not here.”
“And we still like the shows,” Fran said. “Besides, Maxwellneeds ta learn that Andrew Lloyd Webber’s successes are not his failures.”
C.C. pulled a thoughtful face and sighed, “You do have apoint, there. We’ve been working in television for nearly twenty years, it’sabout time your husband got over all that pettiness.”
Niles smiled to himself. Both women were, of course, rightabout how Maxwell should have been moving on past his grudge against the otherproducer, but they all knew it wasn’t going to happen. It had been a source ofirritation in the household for so long now, it was practically integral. Andit had lasted longer as a source of tension in the house than his and C.C.’s rivalry,which even they had had to admit was impressive.
It had led to all Andrew Lloyd Webber productions being bannedfrom the new house, back when they’d moved to California just before the startof the Millennium. But C.C. wasn’t exactly trying to turn the television off orover, either. And Niles knew why.
“You like Lloyd Webber musicals as well, and you knowit,” he smirked, and rose to his feet to wind his arms around her waist,crooning into her ear. “Now come; sing once again with me our strange duet, mypower over you grows stronger yet…”
He pulled her back onto the sofa with him, and C.C. let outa soft yelp and a chuckle.
“Well, that’s not creepy at all,” she rolled her eyes,before stroking one finger down his chest. “At least the Phantom only had towear half a mask when he went outside…”
Niles hummed pleasurably, and went to brush his lips up herneck, “Play your cards right, and I won’t wear anything…”
“Hey, hey! I’m tryin’ ta watch!” Fran protested, shifting onthe sofa and taking the popcorn bowl back. “If yer gonna do the whole foreplaything, could ya perhaps go somewhere else where there are no other people?”
C.C. lifted his chin up with two of her fingers, so he’dlook her in the face.
“Later, lover,” she murmured with a wink, before addressingFran louder. “Sorry, Nanny Fine. We’ll watch the show now.”
That seemed to settle Fran, “Thank you.”
They got back into watching, Fran keeping mostly a firm holdon the popcorn bowl and Niles keeping a completely firm hold of C.C., who had swungher legs over his lap and had her body resting against his.
They all appeared to be relaxing, Niles nearly dozing off,when a loud voice started them all back to the present moment.
“What the hell are you three doing?!”
They nearly leapt out of their skins; Niles and C.C. clutchedat each other for dear life, and Fran let out a screech as she just about clungonto the popcorn bowl. They all spun to look over the back of the sofa, heartspounding and catching breath back.
“Maxwell, you just gave us all heart attacks!” C.C. exclaimed.
The other producer marched around to the front of the sofa,his face like thunder.
“Like that’s the biggest crime going on in this room!” he shouted,gesturing wildly between the three of them and the television. “Why are you allgathered in here, watching this…this rubbish about Andrew Lloyd Webber?!”
“Because it’s a good show, with some good showtunesattached!” Fran argued back. “Ya might not like the man, honey, but ya gottagive credit where it’s due!”
Her husband folded his arms in a huff, “I can give creditwhere it’s due, Fran. By letting the show go on without me or any member of myfamily watching.”
Niles cocked his head from side to side, “Well, you achievedmost of that – none of the children are here.”
“Don’t be clever, Niles,” Maxwell was on the verge ofsnapping, and he seated himself heavily. ““Credit where it’s due”! It’s notlike there’s so much to make a fuss over…!”
C.C. raised her eyebrows at Niles, muttering, “And yet herewe are…”
Their employer didn’t hear her snide comment. He was too busycaught up in his own bitter jealousy.
“Half of these ideas came from other people anyway!” he saidin contempt.
That left him open to a lot of fun, for the time being.
Niles copied C.C.’s expression back at her, “Remind me howmany writers the sitcom has…?”
“And the other half aren’t even good!” Maxwell complained.“Remember what a flop Love Never Dies was?”
“Remember before this conversation started?” C.C. askedquietly.
Fran heard that one. Niles saw her try not to laugh as she rubbedher husband’s forearm.
“We all remember, sweetie,” she said reassuringly. “And yersitcom’s been a massive success.”
“As big a success as Cats?” Niles asked his wife, a hint ofirony in his tone.
The corners of C.C.’s mouth were twitching into a smile, “Ifit was, he’d turn it down, too.”
“It has, hasn’t it?” Maxwell was only paying attention toFran still. “He can’t even get a simple stage musical right, I’d like to seeAndrew Lloyd Webber try turning his hand to television!”
That was too good an opportunity to resist. Niles puffed hischest out and ran a hand through his hair to make it wavier, and launched intoa pompous impression.
“I’d like to see Andrew Lloyd Webber turning his hand totelevision…!”
Stifling laughter, C.C. joined in with her own impersonation,“Yes, seeing as the last time he turned his hand, it was to give me thefinger…!”
Fran couldn’t help but let out a splutter of laughter atthat. And it finally caught Maxwell’s attention.
“Is something funny, Fran?” he asked, clearly still verymuch annoyed.
“No, honey, nothin’s funny, nothin’ at all…” she repliedquickly, putting the bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table and taking his hand.“Well, apart from yer sitcom, of course! In fact, we have the boxset upstairs,don’t we? Why don’t we let the rest o’ the country get on with celebratin’Andrew Lloyd Webber, go somewhere else, and watch yer show?”
Something about that perked Maxwell up some, “Really? Youmean it?”
“Of course I mean it! You deserve ta celebrate yer own successes,not get caught up in somebody else’s, and you’re my husband,” Fran squeezed hishand “And both of those things are more important than anything else.”
“Well…alright,” Maxwell nodded, calmer as he stood up. “Ithink the boxset is by the television in our bedroom.”
“Then we’ll go find it,” Fran began to beam, and got to herfeet as well. “We can forget all about this whole Andrew Lloyd Webbernonsense!”
They made their way out of the living area, heading for thestairs. But as her husband went up, Fran turned back, snatching up the popcornand shooting a warning scowl at Niles and C.C..
She pointed first at them, and then at the television, “Youtwo are not funny! And record the rest of that for me!”
Niles pressed a button on the remote for her, “Got it.”
“Thank you!” she called out as she left again.
As she did, the remaining married couple breathed a sigh ofrelief.
Niles let his head rest back against the sofa, “Well, that’sanother crisis averted, for another day.”
C.C. shifted, and relaxed back against him again, “Yeah,until they have the next Andrew Lloyd Webber special.”
“Which hopefully won’t be any time soon,” he put one arm aroundher back. “We’ve, um…got this recording – you want to keep watching?”
His wife looked up at him, a teasing glint in her eye, “Why,what else did you have in mind that we could be doing?”
“What you said about…later,” he growled, using his free handto trace patterns on her thigh.
“Oh, I see…” she grinned. “Maxwell and Nanny Fine went totheir room, so you want us to go to ours and think up our own entertainment?”
In one swift movement, he had her lying flat on her back onthe sofa, and was on his hands and knees over her.
“Who said anything about moving anywhere?” he smirked.
C.C. chuckled, “You’d better hope they’re binge-watchingthat boxset, Butler Boy…”
He slowly leaned down to kiss her, “Like the threat ofpeople walking in’s ever stopped us…”
The special on TV eventually finished, but neither of themnoticed.
Some things in life were just too interesting to bedistracted from.
#anon asks#the nanny#niles and cc#niles the butler#cc babcock#otp: butler bitch#otp: always been bitter together
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Fictober Day 5: Party (Doomfist X Reader)
“I like how I can pass for the first four characters by calling them by their call signs instead of their actual names most of the time but then I get to Doomfist and I just.... I can’t call him that for an entire fic, I’m sorry.
I’m like 99% sure than Gabe gave him the name. Even if that’s not true... It’s totally true.
~~~
As a member of Talon yourself, you were very aware of the organization’s no-nonsense, all dark and brooding type of system. Except for the frequent childish bickering and teasing the members did on occasion. Otherwise, completely no-nonsense and totally dark and brooding.
With that in mind, you decided to spread a little light and positive mood around the mildly eerie base. You, being the Halloween enthusiast that you were, had originally planned the idea for later on in the month, more like an actual Halloween party on said day, but when a large portion of the agents came home disappointed and beaten down from yet another recently failed mission, you decided to move up your cheer up squad agenda.
Your goal was to decorate the cafeteria with red, gold, and orange autumn decorations with a dash of mild Halloween flair. It took some persuading to get the kitchen staff on board with making special treats to match the party theme, along with letting you use their cafeteria for your antics in the first place. Currently, the only big issue left was having a way to keep all the other Talon agents out of the cafeteria until you were ready. That and to keep their curiosity, should it arise, away.
Who might you go to for such a predicament? The biggest, scariest member on the team who also happened to dislike the uneventful at-home part of Talon, of course.
“Hey Doomie!” You knocked on the open door of Akande Ogundimu’s room before strolling inside.
The large, muscular man sat in an armchair with a book in hand, looking sophisticated as he ever has since he joined Talon. When you hollered the obnoxious nickname, something that your pal Sombra had come up with, Akande lowered his book and raised an eyebrow at you.
He questioned, “Can I help you?”
You leaned in the doorway and flashed a grin his way. “As a matter of fact, you can.”
A quick explanation of your plan and wandering around the room later, Akande was on board to to block off the cafeteria and shut down suspicions. Not only did he appreciate you trying to put a little entertainment into the otherwise dull base but he also admired the fact that you were trying to cheer up your fellow teammates after their mission had gone sour.
“You have a good heart,” he’d mentioned before agreeing.
You had replied, “You know, a lot of us here do? And yet, we’re part of a big bad gang of criminals. ‘S weird, if you ask me.”
You’d gotten what you wanted, so with a clap on the large man’s back and sharing a time with him, you headed back on your way to prepare decorations and music.
“Hey, Jeremy, can you help me with this thing?”
It took more persuading and promises of helping with chores later on but you were eventually able to get the kitchen staff to help you decorate the cafeteria, as well as make treats and snacks for the party. Luckily, they were generally enthusiastic about the whole idea so they followed your orders well and got things finished quick.
You were currently standing on an extremely tall ladder, trying to fit a pumpkin light shade over the last of the cafeteria lights in hopes of giving the room a soft orange glow but you couldn’t quite get the last shade over the light. The young ginger-haired agent you hollered at had the height and the long fingers to do such a tedious task.
However, Jeremy came in a little to hot and bumped into the ladder. If it hadn’t been so tall, the bump probably wouldn’t have disrupted you but the length-to-width ratio of said ladder made it easy to wobble. Which made it easy for you to lose your grip and fall with a very unappealing squeal to what was possibly your death.
Luckily, instead you landed more or less safely in the arms of Akande who, for some reason, had showed up in the right place and the right time.
“You’re my hero,” you whispered, face visibly twisted in pain from landing on two logs of pure hardened muscle. If it weren’t for the man’s grip on you, you may have slipped out of his grasp and into a spineless puddle on the floor. Instead, you laid limp in his arms for a moment, then let out a breathless groan of pain and added, “You’re arms are like boulders..”
“You need to be more careful,” Akande commented. You briefly considered whether he was ignoring your pain or whether he really didn’t notice it until you remembered that, of course, the man was a genius and definitely knew you were in pain.
“It looks nice in here,” he continued with a quick glance around, “but we have a probl--”
“What is going on here?”
Akande turned around, still holding you in his arms, for you both to see Reaper walking into the cafeteria. He was followed by his other main partners aside from Akande himself, Sombra and Amelie, and several other Talon agents. They all looked thoroughly annoyed and equally confused at the dying down commotion of party planning.
“Um,” you mumbled, digging for your phone, “Hold on. Just, uh, give me a sec here.” You fished the device out of your pocket and started flipping through the music on it. Finding a song you thought would set the mood, you hit play. Music started pouring from the intercoms and you addressed the group with your best showstopping smile, despite the fact that your back still ached from the fall and a dull throb in your left foot was beginning to make you think you twisted something on the way down.
“Welcome to the party!”
“Sorry my boulder muscles hurt your back,” Akande murmured with a chuckle.
It took a very awkward explanation and promising to work cleanup crew for Reaper to get on board and allow the party to continue but now you and Akande were watching from the sidelines as the other agents enjoyed themselves. You had tried to shoo the large man away to join the others but he was set on taking responsibility for your being in pain and ultimately decided that he would help soothe the ache and swollen ankle with ice and a back rub.
Currently, you hummed a response as Akande’s fingers absentmindedly pressed against the spot between your shoulder blades. The two of you sat at one of the pushed aside cafeteria tables and you also held ice your ankle, which had in fact become swollen. What happened to cause it, you had no idea, but it hurt like a mother.
After another moment, you actually replied, “If I had from a high enough height, I’m pretty sure you could have broken my back.”
Akande cracked a grin as his hands gradually moved down your back in small circular motions. He continued, “I like what you did though. Not the party really, although it ended up being very well-made, but how you tried to boost everyone’s spirit.”
“You think it worked?” you asked lazily, shifting on your seat a bit. You rested your arms on the table, then rested your head on them and closed your eyes.
“They seem happier than they were, yes.”
“Good,” you muttered. The adrenaline high you had gotten from party planning adventure, then almost dying via death by ladder and Jeremy, was worn off now and that added with Akande soothingly working on your back made it a very difficult mission of staying awake. It was especially difficult to keep opening your mouth for conversation but you didn’t want to leave Akande for sleep, especially since the man offered to stick by your side instead of attending the party.
“Don’t worry about it, {Y/N},” Akande said suddenly, drawing your attention back to the conscious world.
You forced your eyes open and glanced his way, confused. “I’m sorry?”
He chuckled, finishing his current round on your back before standing. Then he lifted your much smaller body gently into his arms, setting the ice pack you were holding aside.
“You apologized for stopping me from enjoying the party,” he said, making his way to the cafeteria’s main door, “I said do not worry. I enjoyed watching everyone and I wanted to make sure that you were okay.”
“Did I say that..?” You were dozing again and only vaguely aware that you were being carried back to your room.
“You did,” Akande confirmed. “A night’s rest will do you good now. You finished your mission. I’ll stop by in the morning to take you by the med bay.”
“... Autumn..”
You were sleep before Akande even got halfway to your room.
#overwatch#fictober#2017 fictober#fictober 2017#fanfiction#fanfic#overwatch fanfiction#overwatch fanfic#overwatch doomfist#doomfist#akande ogundimu#akande x reader#doomfist x reader#akande ogundimu x reader
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+1 ACTING, +6 SINGING, +1 RAPPING, +2 DANCING
DISPATCH, (07/13/17): Prime Media has officially released information about soloist Kim Jihye, also known as Kim Nari, on the official website! Nari is an ‘90 liner and has been beloved by fans since her debut in 2011. Find out more about Nari below!
I, (KIM JIHYE), have read and understand the terms and conditions as my position of (SOLOIST) and agree to honor the standards that are to be expected of me as an employee of (PRIME RECORDS).
OOC INFORMATION
Preferred name: Veronica
Pronouns: She / her
Timezone: Currently GMT+2, soon back to GMT+1
Other muses: n/a
IC INFORMATION
Faceclaim: Hong Jinyoung
Name: Kim Jihye
Stage name (if applicable): Kim Nari
Idol concept: When Jihye made her debut as a singer, it was decided that she should play on her strengths as Kim Nari, the young and pretty trot singer. She was to be upbeat and outgoing, laugh loudly and smile brightly – and in every way try to as much of a contrast to the rather dull and oldish world of trot as she possibly could. Nari’s image was shaped into one of ”the nation’s flower”: beauty, youth and a bit of flirty fun.
At first, it was the easiest thing in the world. She faced her new career bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, excited to meet new people, appear on TV-shows and perform her music. Her concept as an artist was shaped around her and she thrived for the first couple of years.
Then, slowly, the novelty of idol life wore off. Jihye’s personality had shifted, turning colder and more cynic with the realization that her life would forever be scrutinized by the media. Her wide smiles turned stiff, the winks she had always been so generous with became forced, and her bright and bubbly laugh morphed into something high-pitched and fake. Instead of mirroring the happy-go-lucky person she was at debut, it all turned into an act, and Jihye grew to hate the exaggeratedly cheery Kim Nari that she had to be in front of the cameras.
Points Sorting: +1 acting, +6 singing, +1 rapping +2 dancing
Birth date and age: August 9, 1990 – currently 26 years old
Company name: Prime Records
Group Name (if applicable): n/a
Group Position (if applicable): soloist
Strengths: Jihye’s main strengths are her singing and her versatility. She knows how to adapt her style and technique to easily fit the song, and is decent both at trot and pop music. Although not an excellent dancer, she is still very quick at picking up choreography and as she is good at capturing an audience, she is a great performer.
Weaknesses: Jihye tends to cave in under pressure, no matter if it is judgement and criticism from others, or if it is her own ambition and perfectionism that makes her struggle with a task. Neither her vocal range or her dancing abilities could be described as impressive. Recently, she has also been struggling slightly to keep up her image in shows and in front of fans.
Positive traits: Ambitious, Intelligent, Loyal
Negative traits: Pessimistic, Selfish, Harsh
PERSONAL HISTORY
• 1990 She is her parents’ first (and will end up being their only) child. They name her Jihye, meaning wisdom, thinking that intelligence and wisdom might be the only thing that could bring their child good fortune. The couple might not be rich nor live in a grand house, but they have their daughter and they love her and that is all that counts.
For as long as Jihye can remember, both her house and the family restaurant have been filled with music. Her mother seems to have a different soundtrack for every house chore and only turns the volume down when Jihye needs to concentrate on her homework, rather than on humming along. And every time the girl walks into her parents naengmyeon restaurant, she ends up sitting by the counter singing duets with her father, the repertoire ranging from nursery rhymes to the latest songs by her parents favourite singers.
• 2002 Jihye has just turned twelve years old, and she has found out that she likes nothing as much as she likes being in the spotlight. In school she’s loud and talkative, and she surrounds herself with quite a big group of friends, all of them as thick as thieves. Together they put on elaborate plays and concerts in the school yard, forcing all their class mates to watch them perform. The quality of the acts may vary (and the songs Jihye sings always sound a bit dated compared to the h.o.t. and fin.k.l. songs performed by her friends), but they all have a lot of fun. Jihye has started to dream about a life where she could do this every day – being famous and able to sing and act for work sounds like the most amazing thing one could do!
• 2005 For the first time in her life, Jihye feels almost lonely. Her closest friends have all found themselves boyfriends, and somehow they no longer have any time for her. Her mother’s well-meant pep talks don’t manage to cheer her up very much either (”You will find a boyfriend too soon” – well maybe she didn’t want to!). And what do you say when your friends ask you if there’s someone you like, when you can’t tell them the truth without risking them finding you weird or disgusting? Jihye finds support and comfort in music instead, hiding in a corner of their restaurant with headphones on, letting the songs wash away all of her troubles.
• 2008 Jihye did surprisingly well on the college entrance exams, and managed to get into a rather good university. She plans to major in chemical engineering, although she struggles to see herself actually working with anything related to chemistry in the future. She still hasn’t quite managed to let go of her childhood dream though, still wishing for a life where performing could take center stage. It just won’t work out, not with the hours she has to put into studying, or helping out at her parents’ restaurant.
•2011 At last she takes the big step and auditions for an entertainment company. Mirage is a new company and, to be quite honest, Jihye isn’t exactly sure of what she is getting herself into. She auditions as an actress, knowing that there has been rumors of idol groups in the making. She figures that if acting isn’t right for her, they might turn her into an idol trainee instead – she will trust their judgement as doesn’t know herself what she is best suited for. After only two months of training she is casted in a supporting role in her first drama. Despite doing her very best, her high hopes of excellent critiques take a plunge as her performance passes by almost unnoticed by the press. Following that drama, it almost seems as if Mirage has forgotten about her, and after months of being sent to no castings at all, she manages to terminate her contract.
Deciding that acting might not have been her destiny, Jihye goes on to audition for another company only weeks later. Surprisingly, Prime Records take her on, despite her singing one of her mother’s favourite old trot songs for her audition. The contrast between her age and the music she sings so very well is what ultimately lands her the contract, and she has never been happier than now – holding in her hands a ticket to a life of music and fame.
• 2012 There is much for her to learn, never having received proper training before. That doesn’t prove much of an issue though, as she is a quick learner and easily follows both the instructions of her vocal coach and the simple choreographies she is set to practice. Jihye doesn’t blend too well with the other trainees, but that doesn’t bother her too much. She is set to debut as a soloist after all, and with all the training that has do be done, she doesn’t exactly have the time to be nice and friendly to everyone all the time.
Come late 2012, she is finally ready to debut. The song is recorded and the music video planned out – there is only one thing left for her to do. She needs a stage name, something that stands out more to the public than her own name. Having the most popular name of your age group is not a sure way to get remembered, let’s be honest. She settles on Kim Nari, naming herself after her favourite flower – the lily.
• 2014 The debut of Kim Nari two years ago had been a bigger success than Jihye could ever have imagined. At first it had all been great fun – everything was new, shiny and exciting. Then, as she got used to it all, she started to realize that everything wasn’t glitz and glamour. She is completely exhausted, sick and tired of performing the same song more times in one week than she can count, and fed up with having to be careful at all times not to cause negative headlines. The straw to break the donkey’s back is Jihye falling head over heals in love with one of her stylists, only to realize that even if the feelings were to be mutual, she could never act on them. There is too much to lose, and if it would be leaked to the press it would all be far worse than a simple dating scandal.
She turns to her work to try and distract herself, but it is rumored among staff both at Prime and and various television companies that the once so easy-going Kim Nari has turned rather hars and difficult to work with.
• 2016 Although she knows she has been lucky, being signed at a company that doesn’t try to work her until she collapses, it all becomes too much for Jihye. She goes on a hiatus (although nothing is announced officially), only releasing the occasional collaboration with company friends along the way. It was very much needed, as she struggles to paint on her cheery image as Kim Nari even for short periods of time. Most of her time is still spent working on new projects at the company building, but she is allowing herself to relax for once and not beat herself up for not working hard enough, being good enough. She finally finishes her studies and graduates as a chemical engineer – she didn’t want to leave it unfinished. For the first time in a couple of years, there is a spring to her step and a smile on her face on the regular.
• 2017 More than two years have passed since her last solo promotions, and Jihye knows it is time for her to get back out in the spotlight. To be fair she misses the performances, the feeling of singing in front of people who have come just to see her. She doesn’t regret her career path in the slightest. What she isn’t looking forward to is having to sit in interviews and tv shows and pretend to be the happiest, most outgoing person in the industry. Jihye grows tired only thinking about it – yet she is afraid of the reactions any deviation from her image might bring. A change now, when she has been gone for so long, might be devastating. No, Jihye has to stick to what works, and that means slowly easing back into the saccharine Kim Nari: young, beautiful, fun and flirty trot singer – even though the girl feels anything but rosy pink and happy inside.
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