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total-dxmure · 3 months

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ೃ࿔ CHERRY FLAVORED →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER ONE

pairing: mega fan!ellie williams x rock star!reader

summary: your guitarist was carted off to rehab after just one month into your recent tour. fuck. there’s only one thing you can do, and that’s hire a replacement. your band thinks it’s going to be nearly impossible to find someone that is on the same level of talent as your “beloved” guitarist. you don’t have high hopes that anyone can nail the songs quite like he did either, if you’re being brutally honest. enter ellie- she’s a mega fan. the girl knows every lyric and note like the back of her hand. . . and everything about you, which isn’t creepy at all. her apparent obsession with you is something that you and your tour manager can overlook if it means carrying on with the rest of the tour. forced proximity with a stalker-level fan . . . what’s the worst thing that could happen?

warnings: smut in next chapter, talk of substance abuse, the reader is a tease and a bit of a bitch but it’s hot i promise, ellie is obsessed with reader to an unhealthy degree.

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

It was the kind of love that tortured poets mused over. Ribs straining against a heavy heart.

Ellie had deluded herself, as any love drunk person does, that she wouldn’t dissolve into a puddle on the floor if she were to meet you. She could keep her cool- downplay the crushing significance you held in her life. Your voice was constantly ringing in her ears. She could see your face in perfect clarity any time she closed her eyes. Pictures like snapshots played out behind her eyelids, and yet you always felt a million miles away for her. You were a perfect performer, situated on your sky-high pedestal, always out of her puny reach.

Because Ellie, as much as she despised this fact and dreamed of greatness, was a nobody. She grew up in a tiny town of no noteworthiness, her adolescent years spent dreaming about the planets and playing guitar with Joel. By all accounts Ellie was normal, while you were certainly not. Still, she liked to tell herself that she’d somehow manage to make herself worthy of your affections if she were ever to be blessed with them.

Finding herself in a situation like this seemed like an impossibility. She was partially convinced that she was daydreaming, having concocted some elaborate fantasy just to feed the insatiable ache. She was starved for you with no way to feed herself.

All it had taken was a single audition tape. One. Single. Tape. Ellie was staring, wide eyed, at Gene fuckin’ Murray.

The blood rushed from her head, hands breaking out instantaneously into a clammy sweat. She couldn’t think, couldn’t function at the realization that she was staring at one of the people that she had worshiped for years. Gene’s talent had been praised by the likes of Lars Ulrich and Danny Carey. He wasn’t popular just for his looks but for his undeniable talent.

And he was staring straight at Ellie, arms crossed over his toned chest as he waited expectantly. She felt like an idiot. Should she be playing? If so, what did they want her to play? Surely one of their songs. She’d glossed past the fact that she was a megafan, instead making it sound like she was just looking for a successful band to join. She was talented. No, Ellie was really talented.

She wasn’t just a technical player, but excelled at making her own rules. She enjoyed the creative freedom that playing the guitar granted, and felt as though the world needed more Jimi’s and Van Halen’s. Ellie excelled at thinking outside of the box.

She wasn’t very successful when it came to women, but had no problem making her guitar scream and cry for her.

So she took a deep breath and tried to steady her heart, once again stepping up to the mic. If there was one thing that all of your bandmates had in common, it was the attitude. She’d watched hundreds of interviews, had studied all of their movements and mannerisms. . .she understood you down to a science.

“So do you want me to play or what?” Ellie spoke into the mic, gripping the neck of the guitar in the hopes that it might act as an anchor. She was scared that she might float away.

The manager’s eyebrows twitched at her sudden change in attitude but he didn’t say anything, merely turned to look at Gene. For a second everyone just stared at her, like a bug under a microscope. After what felt like five minutes but was really just five seconds, Gene broke out into a grin, motioning to her with a flick of his wrist. He wasn’t confident in her, Ellie could tell.

She had a sweet face, she knew that. Big green eyes and freckles- she was unsuspecting. People were usually shocked to find out that she had wrestled competitively in high school and had no problem putting a man three times her size on his ass. People expected very little from her, and perhaps that was part of Ellie’s real charm.

“What song?” She was staring at Gene now, gripping her guitar pick between two sweat-slick fingers.

“What ‘bout ‘Sometime Soon’? Know that one?” His tone was teasing. Condescending.

The song was fast paced. It was supposed to be played loud and hard- one of your angrier songs. Ellie knew that you had been the one to write this one, meaning it was one of her favorites. The notes weren’t beginner friendly, but it wasn’t exactly hard for her.

It was more style, less technical ability- which meant that Ellie would have no problem making this song her bitch.

It was obvious that Gene was the one meant to judge her. The manager was just that- a manager. They needed an actual musician to listen in. So she took a deep breath and readied herself. . .

and then the sound of your singing voice blasted into the booth. Drums, bass- she was meant to play with you.

She almost missed her que, eyes widening in nervousness. She thought that she’d be playing all by her lonesome. She thought wrong it would seem. They’d started her off right in the middle of the song. Probably to throw her off. She jumped in, fingers sliding along the frets to shape out the correct notes. She tucked her guitar pick against the palm of her hand with her thumb, using the pads of her fingers to tap the strings. Faster. Faster. Faster. She didn’t look up from her guitar to look at the men’s reactions to her playing. Instead she just pretended she was standing in the living room of her apartment, hellbent on getting another noise complaint from the bitchy nextdoor neighbor.

Her calloused fingers pinched the strings, satisfied with the way the guitar whined over the speakers. The guitar solo in this song was meant to be impressive- and it was, she had to give it to Leon. A lot of it was just bullshitting though. He’d admitted that he came up with the solo in the actual sound booth off of the top of his head while they were recording the song.

The man was a god. He deserved “guitarist of the year” two years in a row. Ellie had the Los Angeles native beat though. Where he had grown up in the constant presence of “the greats”, Ellie had grown up in a constant state of boredom. She’d been playing the guitar since she was fourteen. Every day she’d sit down for hours and practice until her fingers bled. . . literally. She had thousands of hours on Leon, and she knew that with certainty.

Ellie moved the guitar up and down gently with her fret hand, prolonging the last note so that it cried the way she wanted it to. The muscles in her arms were sore from how hard she had been tensing during the song. She’d been a lot more mechanical about it than she was used to, but she had something to prove.

After a second she looked up from her guitar to gauge everyone’s reactions. The manager had dropped his cold and indifferent demeanor, instead flashing her a small smile. It bolstered her, gave her the strength to turn and look at Gene.

He still had his arms crossed over his chest, and for a second Ellie was sure that he would tell her that she sucked. She widened her stance, shuffling her feet so that she was in a more defensive position. His heated gaze made her feel as though she needed to protect herself from whatever mental anguish he was about to put her through.

“I thought she was kick ass,” Gene finally spoke up, giving Ellie a small thumbs up. Her face lit up into a wide smile before she could school her reaction into one of indifference. “What do you think? You’re the one that calls all the shots.” He spoke behind him, looking down at someone that had been hidden on the couch all along.

Ellie squinted her eyes, taking a step closer to the glass to see if there was another businessman she’d somehow overlooked.

She saw your hair before she saw anything else. It was freshly dyed, different than the last she’d seen you in all of the recent tabloid photos. You were clad in leather- pants so tight that they looked like a second skin. Your top was just as restrictive, breasts spilling out from the top, midriff revealed to show off the small silver piercing you had decorating your belly button.

You were Hecate in the flesh- dark, sinister, mysterious and capable of anything. Ellie didn’t think that it would be possible, but you were even prettier in person. The sight of you sent a shock through her system, and for a second she felt her knees quiver, as if she could no longer hold up the weight of her own body. Her insides turned to mush; white, hot mush.

The Stendhal syndrome: Ellie had been brought to the very precipice of existence by sight alone. She was so overcome by your mere existence that she felt her eyes begin to well up with tears. Body trembling, eyes locked on to your face and nothing else- it felt like she might faint. She remembered reading about the syndrome once before in an art history class she took in college.

“Absorbed in the contemplation of sublime beauty. . . I reached the point where one encounters celestial sensations.”

The urge to flee was just as great as the urge to get her hands on you was. She was thankful for the wide stance she was currently in, because if her legs had been any closer together then she was positive she would have lost her balance and fallen over.

You were right there in front of her. You’d been right in front of her the entire time, she’d just been so focused on Gene that she hadn’t even seen you in her panic. She stumbled forward, her sneakered foot catching the jack for the amp. She slapped her hands over her ears as a blood curdling screech began blaring over the speakers.

Ellie could have died. In fact. . . she just might. She dropped her guitar roughly on the ground as she raced over towards the amp, fingers shaking as she turned the knob to the volume.

The booth, once again, was silent. Silent enough to hear a pin drop. Slowly she turned, grimacing when she noticed the looks on everyone’s faces. She’d embarrassed herself and ruined her chance. Even worse was the fact that she’d humiliated herself in front of you.

She had somehow deluded herself into believing that the two of you were soulmates over the years. She’d compared your birth charts, life numbers- had taken multiple celebrity compatibility tests. All signs pointed to a resounding yes. The two of you were star crossed lovers, cursed to never know one another. She had told herself that if she were ever to bump into you in person that she’d be able to keep her cool. Ellie was certain that she could pretend that she didn’t know who you are- could downplay the significance that you held

Her ignorance was laughable. She’d been so overcome by your mere presence that she’d stumbled on air while standing completely still. You were standing up straight now, and even from her spot behind the thick glass she could tell how much taller you were than her. You had to be wearing heels or platforms, because according to Google you were-

“You know how many auditions we’ve listened to today?” You had grappled the mic from the tech and were now hunched over his soundboard, the lights from all of the buttons and knobs casting strange, beautiful shadows over your face. Your eyeliner was dark and smoked out around your eyes, and in that moment Ellie wondered if you were an angel or a demon. “Twelve. Twelve fuckin’ people have walked into that booth today. Every single one of them has been absolute shit. So bad, in fact, that I’ve wanted to blow my fuckin’ brains out in this buildings tiny, piss-stained bathroom.”

Ellie blanched, lips losing their pink color as the blood drained from her face. She was about to pass out. Her vision was already starting to tunnel. She grabbed onto one of the microphone stands to hold herself up, trying to keep her expression hard and unreadable. People often told her that she had “dead eyes”, and she could only pray that her face wasn’t giving her crushing grief away. It felt like someone had just died; like she had just died. Actually, she would have rather you just go ahead and stab her then tell her she sucked. You were her idol, her dream girl, her everything.

And you were telling her that you’d rather blow your fucking brains out then listen to her play. How was she supposed to recover from this? She’d heard the saying “don’t meet your heroes” a thousand times, but this? She’d rather you just be a bitch to her. Actually, Ellie would probably like that. This was the worst thing she could have ever heard. Her nose twitched as tears began pooling in her eyes. She blinked a few times, praying that you couldn’t tell in the nearly pitch black room you were standing in.

“But this?” You turned towards your manager and pointed passionately at Ellie. “This is music.”

Breath left her lungs in a loud, audible whooshing sound, like a balloon deflating. Her shoulders relaxed, the hand that was white knuckling the mic stand falling limp at her side. No, you didn’t hate her. You liked her.

You liked her.

Everyone had their vices. Leon’s had, apparently, been copious amounts of prescription drugs- often consumed simultaneously. You were used to getting what you wanted. You drank whenever you wanted to, fucked just about anyone that peaked your interest and got away with your usual rotten antics and bitchy behavior. You lived the lifestyle that you’d always dreamt of, even when you were a little kid.

You enjoyed putting on shows. You were flamboyant, loud, and weren’t afraid of expressing yourself. Teachers often described you as a “free thinker” back in your elementary school days. You dressed yourself for school each morning, each outfit louder and more daring than the next. You were an artist, and like most artists you had some inner demons that you fought against. You still fought tooth and nail, even to this day.

Finally though, after what felt like a thousand years of waiting and biding your time, you had the life you had always yearned for.

You sold out arenas, appeared on the front page of just about every magazine imaginable, and had celebrities clamoring over themselves to be your “best friend” of the week. Things were good.

But also a bit empty.

The friends that you’d made in your youth only used your name for bragging rights. Your parents had stopped showing up to concerts years ago, instead choosing to listen about your successes through their shitty television shows. Life felt a bit hollow.

Exciting. . . just different than you had always been used to.

“Come play with us.” One of the women whined from her spot on your plush hotel mattress. The bombshell blonde was already stripped down to her underwear, her eyes glazed over from whatever overpriced alcohol she’d already taken from the suite's bar, at your expense no doubt.

Your manager was used to the up-charges on the company card. He would probably be relieved in the morning when he found out that you didn’t break anything. There was still time for that, of course. It was only one in the morning, which meant you had nine more hours to get fucked up and wreck the cushy room.

“I’m not feeling up to it right now.” You said simply, already disinterested in the two women you had invited to bed with you tonight. You were holding a beer bottle loosely between two of your fingers, swishing the remainder of the room temperature alcohol absentmindedly.

You weren’t much of an “observer” when it came to sex, more of a very active participant. Still, all you could do was sit back in one of the comfortable lounge chairs, muscles tense after a long show. You weren’t exactly sure why you’d invited the women back to the hotel. They were both attractive and had come onto you at the same time. It was obvious what they had been insinuating, and who were you to deny two beautiful women? The first thing that had popped into your head being “a threesome might make me happy”.

Except now you were bored out of your skull and would much rather be sleeping right now than watch two ditzy girls clumsily fondle each other’s fake breasts.

“Please? I want you to fuck me so bad-” There was a knock at the door, causing both girls to go silent for a second.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, exhaustion threatening to swallow you up whole. If it was your manager here to yell at you for “accidentally” breaking an amp at tonight's show you were going to scream. It was too late for that bullshit. Still, you saw this excuse as a blessing.

“Hear that, ladies? Looks like we’ve gotta pack it up. Thanks for showing me a good time.” You stood up from the seat with a small groan, placing your beer bottle onto the counter clumsily. The glass clattered, almost spilling all over the shag carpet.

The two girls groaned, obviously frustrated that they hadn’t successfully gotten you into bed with them. You weren’t sure what was wrong with you lately. If this had happened a few months ago then. . . well, you would have fucked them- no questions asked. Were you maturing out of your “wild and crazy” phase? No, you didn’t think so.

You bent down, scooping up a discarded bra so that you could toss it onto the bed. Fabric rustled behind you as they began to quickly sort themselves out, hoping to beat you to the door.

“Who is it?” You called out in a sing-song voice, deciding that if your manager was already angry enough to show up in front of your door at one in the morning then you might as well have a little fun with it.

There was no reply on the other side of the door, causing you to scoff. He was giving you the silent treatment. You reached out for the door handle, only to have your shirt yanked on by one of the women. You could hear the seams ripping against the weight of her, her eyes wide with desperation.

“Please let me show you a good time. I promise I’m good- I swear.” There was a fear of rejection there, you could tell.

You felt a bit guilty and were quick to lean in to press a kiss on her cheek. “Baby, you’re gorgeous. I’m sure you would have been wonderful- but I’m tired. That’s all, okay? It’s nothing personal.”

And with that you opened the door. The air from the hallway was brisk, causing goosebumps to instantly break out on your bare arms and legs. You were expecting the balding, bespectacled Barry to be standing on the other side of the door, all in a huff about “expenses” and “damages to the venue”. Blah, blah, blah.

Instead it was Ellie. A very broken looking Ellie.

The girls were quick to straighten out their outfits, their attention now turned towards the guitarist. Groupies like this didn’t care who they slept with, just so long as they were getting it in with someone that was in the band.

“You’re Emma. . . right? The new guitarist? You were so great tonight. I mean- Leon was always a bit of a poser anyway. You’re killing it.” One of the girls started, moving to stand next to you in the doorway.

You weren’t sure why, but you felt angry. Genuinely angry. Were you jealous of Ellie? No, because you were sure they would still rather fuck you than her. You’d been their first choice, afterall. Maybe you felt the need to shelter Ellie a bit? Yeah, that had to be it. She was still learning the ropes, and the last thing she needed was to be sexually harassed in a hotel hallway.

“. . . -lie” She was mumbling under her breath, eyes locked on the expensive carpet beneath her ratty old sneakers.

She had changed out of her stage clothes and put on jeans and a t-shirt. Her hair looked wet too, meaning she’d already taken a shower. She smelled earthy- Alpine, even.

You leaned against the frame, slamming your hand against the doorway to box the two women in, hoping to keep them away from the newbie. They flinched but both seemingly weren’t off put in their newfound pursuit.

“You’re the most talented guitarist I’ve ever seen live. I mean. . . your solos were incredible.” You hadn’t managed to successfully remember the girl’s names. Just that they were friends with two guys that had worked security for the venue tonight. People often took advantage of connections like that in order to get close to you and your bandmates. It usually worked too. Tonight was different though. Tonight you had a real stick up your ass.

Ashley? Amber? Sophie? God, you were bad with names.

“. . . -is Ellie.” Your guitarist mumbled again, slowly moving back down the hall in the direction of her suite.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion over her attitude, and you were quick to stumble out of your room and down the hall after her.

“Wait! Emma, can we get an autograph!” One of the half naked girls called after the two of you, trying desperately to shrug on her shirt to follow after.

Ellie turned then, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. You’d. . . You’d never seen her like that before.

“My name is fucking Ellie! Who is Emma? Jesus fuckin’ Christ-” She dug her hand into the back pocket of her jeans, trying desperately to find her keycard.

The girls gasped at her outburst, jostled by the look of pure evil on her face. Even you were taken aback, not used to this kind of attitude from her. Still, you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t know why she was acting like this.

Ellie was what some would call a “mega fan”, though that would be putting it lightly. The word “stalker” would be more appropriate. Your manager knew that before he even messaged her for an audition. He’d checked all of her social media sites and scrubbed the internet for anything he could find on her. One thing was made very clear:

Ellie was obsessed with you.

For whatever reason she seemed to be keeping it a secret from Gene and Chris. All she fessed up to them was that she enjoyed your music, which was why she’d auditioned in the first place. She’d conveniently left out the dedicated fan blogs and the status of her cult-like following.

You didn’t mind it. Sure, it was a bit creepy. . . but she was talented and you liked her. She could hold her own against Gene and Chris’ constant asshole behavior, and had been receptive to Barry trying to teach her the ropes of the business. It was obvious that she wanted this, even if her motives weren’t exactly purely for the music. You’d let her be as close to you as she wanted if it meant that she’d continue playing the way that she does. The crowd had loved her, and it was only her second show with the band.

She was a bit shy, but that would pass eventually. You remember your early debut days vividly. You’d been just like her, maybe even a little worse.

“Hey, stop for a second.” You reached out to grab her wrist, stopping her from fleeing after her outburst. She turned to glare at you, but her eyes softened as she took in your features.

You could feel her arm trembling in your grasp, so you gently let go. No matter how many times you touched her or spent time with her, she still seemed to get overly nervous in your presence. It was endearing.

“Aren’t you a bit busy? Don’t let me ruin your fun-” She was being sarcastic.

“I was done with them by the time you knocked on the door. They aren’t exactly my type. I’m not sure why I even invited them back in the first place.” If you had to guess, you’d probably done it out of habit. You were used to inviting people back to your room or tour bus.

Ellie didn’t seem pleased by your answer. If anything it seemed to upset her even more. She bristled, reaching back into her pocket for her keycard. What did she want to hear? That you hadn’t touched them? You groaned, wiping an exhausted hand down your face.

The elevator dinged behind you, meaning the girls had finally taken the hint and were leaving with their tails tucked between their legs.

“Are you jealous or something?” You asked once the elevator doors were closed. The last thing you needed were the girls trying to sell information to some shitty gossip magazine.

She froze, eyes going wide and lips going pale. It was almost like she didn’t think that you knew all about her dirty little secret. A part of you wanted to tease her. Really make her squirm.

“Why would I be jealous? Those girls weren’t exactly my type either.” She was good at playing things off. Ellie was a good liar.

But you were good at sniffing out the bullshit. It was one of your many talents.

“Not of me,” You leaned against the wall next to her door, watching with curious eyes as she began fumbling in her pockets for her key. “Of them. Do you wish I had taken you back to my room or something?” You cooed flirtatiously, flashing her one of your most sinister smiles.

She coughed, turning around so that she could hide her face from you. This nearly had you groaning out loud in disappointment. Was she blushing? Do her freckles look even brighter when her skin gets all pink and hot?

Nah, it was dangerous to think like this. Band members were always off limits. It was a recipe for disaster. The last thing you needed was another Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham situation on your hands. Your PR team wouldn’t be able to recover. They’d just barely gotten over the “Leon” incident by the skin of their teeth.

Your old band member having to be tackled by three cops in a hotel lobby was horrible. It made you look sloppy. And sleeping with the brand new edition to the band was definitely sloppy.

“You’re acting crazy.” Ellie told you, shoving the keycard into the lock so that she could clammer into her room.

Pushing the boundaries was sort of your thing. You enjoyed being bad, fuck the consequences. Right about now you wanted to kiss Ellie. What would her reaction be? Was she a good kisser? You wanted to know. No- you needed to know.

“You’re right. I’m talking nonsense, don’t listen to me,” You called after her into the room. “Sweet dreams.”

And with that you sauntered back to your own room, practically purring in delight over the fact that it had been that easy to get to Ellie like that. You loved pushing the boundaries. . . and now you had a new toy to play with.

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superhaught · 2 months

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Incurable Cravings (Chapter Two)

(GIF by goodtitsbigheart)

Pairing: Regina x Reader

Warnings: makes reference to previous explicit content, mention of eating disorder, mild angst/arguing

Word Count: 2500, Part 2/?

Part 1 / Part 3

Regina and Reader reflect on their past as they try to be close again.

This is now an AU where Regina George and Leighton Murray are twin sisters split up in a custody battle.

Regina turned the light in the closet on and pulled her phone out. She examined herself in the camera app and adjusted the way her hair fell around her shoulders, “meet me at my car after school.”

You watched her apply a fresh layer of lip gloss and touch up the edges of her lips then she met your eyes, “this is the part when you respond.”

“Oh, yeah… okay. I’ll meet you.”

Regina put her phone away and stood up straighter as she reached out and began fixing your hair and swiped her thumb over your lips, removing the traces of her lip gloss from your skin, “I’ve always liked your hair… it’s not fair that you have these curls naturally,” she mused.

“Thanks…” you whispered softly.

“Why are you being all weird now?”

“What? I’m not being weird.”

The blonde rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in front of her chest, “yes, you are. Just a minute ago, you were being all bold, like I’ve never seen from you before. Now, you’re all terrified and squirrely.”

“I’m just… processing.”

“Well, do that shit later. It’s ruining your glow.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Nevermind.” Regina put her tube of lip gloss back in her bag and then slipped past you to exit the janitor’s closet, “My car. After school. Don’t disappoint me.”

She didn’t give you time to issue a response. She left you and strutted off to show up fashionably late to her 5th period class.

You took a deep breath. Your mind was reeling but Regina was probably right, you should put it all out of your mind for now. At least until school was over. At least until the two of you could talk more in depth about what happened, which, you prayed you would have the chance to talk later when you met her for whatever she was planning.

You slipped out of the closet and began to head in the opposite direction of Regina, toward your locker, until you were grabbed by your shirtsleeve and pulled aside.

You sighed when you saw who it was: Janis.

She stared at you, as if expecting you to immediately offer an explanation.

“Janis, what?” You asked, annoyed.

“What do you mean ‘what?’ What the fuck just happened between you and Regina?”

“How is that any of your business? You haven't talked to me for three years and now you just expect me to spill?”

Janis relaxed at that, “well… I guess I just thought, when it comes to Regina…”

“Well you thought wrong, Janis. I’m late for class.” You pulled yourself out of the girl’s grip and walked away.

You felt bad for being cold to Janis, but Regina was the reason your friendship didn’t survive in the first place. There was no way that you’d be able to get along now that it was even more complicated. Janis would have to figure out how to be okay on her own.

The rest of your day seemed to move at a snail's pace. You watched the clock as you sat through your calc and stats classes, waiting for the dismissal bell to finally ring and let you go.

You’d never packed up and got out of the building faster. A quick text to your mom of “going to study at a friends’” was enough to explain why you weren’t coming straight home, and like an obedient little puppy, you walked over to Regina’s Jeep in the student parking lot.

She was there waiting for you, leaning against her door and swinging her keys around her index finger, “good, you still know how to listen.”

You raised an eyebrow at her, “where are we going?”

“My house, duh.”

“Kay. I bet your mom will be surprised to see me.”

Regina sighed, “I’d rather her not see you at all… but that’s unlikely… just get in, will you?”

You started to make your way around to the passenger side, “No Gretchen or Karen?”

She gave you a judgemental expression, “did you somehow lose all of your sense when you fucked me? Jesus Christ… no. It’s just us.”

“Jeez, sorry Gina.”

“I thought I told you not to call me that,” Regina sat in the driver’s seat and turned the engine on, “whatever.”

You got in and Regina turned the radio on before leaning over and buckling you in herself. The simple act gave you butterflies. You cleared your throat and turned away from her while she checked herself out in the rearview mirror and put on her sunglasses.

“Ready?”

You nodded and then she peeled out of the parking lot. Once she was on a long stretch of road, she took one hand off the wheel and put it on your thigh. Your breath caught in your throat and you stayed quiet and still for a minute but then couldn’t help but break the silence when she came up to a red light.

“When was the last time I was at your house, do you think?” You were being deceptive by asking. You knew exactly when the last time you were there was.

“I don’t remember,” she shrugged. It was barely perceptible but you caught it, her eyebrow twitched. She was lying. She remembered, too.

The last time you were at your house was also the last time you were all together. It was the party.

Spin the bottle was Regina’s suggestion because of course it was. You and Janis had no idea that Regina had a plan to manipulate the entire night. Regina knew that Janis was in love with her, but Regina didn’t want her to be and she was pissed off at Janis for something.

Like always, Regina got exactly what she wanted. She spun the bottle and it landed on Janis. Regina kissed her and then immediately stabbed Janis in the gut, revealing the brunette’s crush in a very painful way. Regina pretended to make it about some guy, but it wasn’t about the guy at all.

Janis ran off crying. You glared at Regina and said, “that was awful, Gina,” and began to run after Janis but Regina stood up and grabbed you, dragging you to her bedroom before you could comfort Janis.

Regina squeezed your arm and shut her bedroom door. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory, apparently this was a pattern for the two of you.

“Why are you mad at me? I did this for us, now it can just be you and me.”

“What are you talking about, Regina?” You asked.

“Aren’t you sick of Janis’ stupid crush ruining our time together?”

“I never said anything like that! Janis is our friend! You shouldn’t have done that, Gina.”

“Well, I don’t care. It’s done. I’m done with her.”

After that, everything went to shit. Janis was a wreck. Regina was a nightmare. You couldn’t be in the middle of it anymore. Any hope you might have had of the three of you recovering was dashed in the chemistry lab fire incident.

You went your separate ways, then. You never really forgave Regina but she wouldn’t leave you alone. Janis avoided you both like the plague most of the time. You knew that something crazy happened last school year when that new girl, Cady Heron, came to school, leading up to Regina’s accident. But you honestly took it as a reprieve. Your academic stress last year was killing you, so having Regina off of your back was wonderful. But that didn’t stop you from leaving a basket of her favorite treats on her front porch while she was recovering. You didn’t know what else to do.

Regina pulled into her driveway and you looked up at her house in awe. Had it gotten bigger?

Regina got out and came over to open your door for you, “come on.”

You followed her inside and Ms. George was right there waiting for her daughter’s arrival. The woman nearly dropped her glass of wine in shock, “oh my fucking god is that who I think it is?!” She screeched and ran forward, setting her wine glass down before trapping you in a hug.

“Hi, it’s nice to see you again,” you said, awkwardly patting her back.

She squeezed you and shook your body side to side then pulled away, “let me get a good look at you, oh my goodness, you’re even prettier! Don’t you think so, Regina?”

“Mom, can you like, chill, please? Jesus…”

“Sorry baby,” Ms. George let you go at that point, “well, welcome home, sweetheart. I’m so glad you’re back. You two have fun, I’ll be up with snacks in a minute.”

Regina grabbed your hand and dragged you up the stairs to her room. It was frighteningly easy to fall back into old habits. You set your bag down in the same spot as you always did and crashed onto her luxe bed like you always used to, while Regina examined herself in her floor length mirror.

Regina poked and prodded at her face and neck for a moment and then Ms. George came into the room with a tray of food.

“Here you go, my lovelies,” she set the tray down on the bed, “and I brought your meds, honey.”

Regina flashed her mom a glare and then returned her attention to herself in the mirror. Ms. George sat criss cross on the bed across from you.

“Thank you so much, I’m starving,” you said, helping yourself to the chips and juice.

“What have you been up to lately?? Regina never talks about you anymore, tell me everything! Are you dating anyone?”

You laughed, “I haven’t been up to much besides school, if I’m being honest. I’m making college plans and trying to do some more volunteering on my breaks. I’m not dating anyone right now,” you glanced at Regina quickly and you caught her raising her eyebrow curiously, “don’t have time.”

Ms. George asked you some questions about college stuff and then Regina shooed her away. The blonde came and sat down on her bed and took the small medicine cup off of the tray and dry swallowed the small handful of pills all at once.

You gave her a look.

“What?” she asked.

“Come on, what’s going on?” you gestured to the cup as she set it back down.

Regina rolled her eyes, “it’s just stuff I have to take now, since the accident. Painkillers and stuff for my heart, don’t worry about it.”

You frowned, “you can’t tell me not to worry.”

“Can you drop it, please? I’m not in the mood.”

“Fine.” You helped yourself to more food, “aren’t you hungry?”

“No,” she said, shrugging. She started scrolling through her phone absentmindedly.

“Regina…” you began.

“What is your problem?”

“Are you… you know…”

“Am I what? Do you think I can read your mind?”

“Are you restricting again?”

“I’m sorry, does fucking me make you think that you suddenly have the right to be on my case now? Back off, will you?”

“Then what the fuck is this? We can have sex but I can’t care, now? Is that it?”

“I don’t know!” She snapped, smacking the mattress out of anger. “I don’t know, okay?”

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t know either. You had no idea what the fuck this was. You leaned back against her pillows and sighed, “I’m sorry, Gina.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

“I just… if I’m going to be in your life again, I hope you’ll talk to me. Like we used to… that’s all.”

“I understand… I’m just not used to it anymore.”

You nod.

“Can we work up to it?” She looked at you with wide eyes. There she was. That vulnerable, sweet Regina that you used to know.

You smiled softly, “yeah.”

Regina slid closer to you on the bed and cuddled into your side, letting you wrap your arm around her back. She opened tiktok and started scrolling through her fyp with you.

You rested together for another half hour and then you convinced her to let you work on homework and she even let you help her with her math assignment.

“It makes so much more sense when you explain it,” she said. Successfully solving a problem.

“I charge fifteen dollars an hour for tutoring,” you tease.

“Oh shut the fuck up,” she shoved your shoulder and chuckled, “I’ll pay in kisses.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mhmm… is that acceptable?”

“Hmm…” you grin, “I think some kind of kisses payment plan can be arranged…”

Regina leaned in and gave you a light peck on the mouth. You smiled and turned your attention back to your book.

“You know, don’t think that this makes up for the past three years of relentless bullying you’ve subjected me to…”

She smirked, “you would be a lot more convincing if I actually believed that a part of you didn’t enjoy it the whole time.”

You stuck out your tongue at her and she mirrored the gesture. You both laughed and you felt grateful that it felt light and easy at this moment.

The sun began to set and you finished up with your homework.

“Gina…”

“What?”

So, Janis tried to confront me in the hallway earlier… after we left the closet…”

Regina groaned, “of fucking course she did… she just won’t give up.”

“You hurt her… really bad… I mean, can we blame her?”

“It’s not like she’s fucking innocent!”

“What even happened that pissed you off so much? You never told me…”

The blonde rolled her eyes, “it’s a long story… and not mine to tell. It had to do with Leighton.”

“Leighton? Your sister, Leighton?”

“Yeah, who else?”

“Sorry, I just didn’t know Leighton and Janis had anything to do with each other.”

“Like I said, it’s a long story. All you need to know is that Janis dug her own grave and she should have known that I was gonna burn her for hurting my baby sister.”

“Your twin sister,” you corrected.

“I’m older,” she responded indignantly, “I’ll tell you more if Leighton says it’s okay.”

“Alright. How often do you two get to talk nowadays?”

“Not as often as we’d like. And we never get to see each other because mom and dad can’t even communicate. We have plans for being more in touch after graduation.”

You nod. She continues, “I’m worried it will be weird, though. I mean, we’ve had our own lives for almost five years now. She already knows where she’s going to school… early decision to Essex… I just feel like we’re the ultimate nature versus nurture experiment and now it’s like we’re not even related.”

“She’ll always be your sister. I’m sure you have more in common than you think.”

Regina nods slowly, not meeting your eyes. You hear Ms. George shout from downstairs that dinner is ready.

“Gina, promise me you’ll eat something. For me, okay?” You give her your best puppy-dog eyes in hopes of convincing her.

“I hate when you do that…”

“Pretty please?”

“Fiiiiine… ugh, I hate you.”

“I lo-” you catch yourself and pause, “I care about you… that’s all.”

She leads the way downstairs and you don’t know if she noticed your slip up.

Next Chapter

#regina george #regina george x reader #regina george fanfiction #renee rapp fanfiction #mean girls 2024 #my fanfiction #my writing #original writing #incurable cravings #regina george lesbian #wlw

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panelshowsource · 6 months

Text

sorry this is so long — i let my inbox back up a little but also some of these are so thoughtful and i hate not responding thoughtfully!

remember to block the tag 'long post' if you hate seeing long posts :')

first of all aww anon thank you so much and second of all you don't watch taskmaster? how can you stand following my blog if you don't? hahahahah especially during taskmaster season i feel so bad the blog ends up being like 70% tm even though if i could have it may way i'd never gif new content and just gif totally random old content like always hehehehehe but it's cute to me how many hog fans are in my inbox these days! i'll try and gif it more for you guys :)

and you should watch taskmaster!!! and come back and tell me what you think!! start with s1!!! it's on the masterpost linked in my bio!

idk anon you'd have to ask them that but generally they would consider themselves to be irish-american; i wasn't trying to make a statement about that when i said that i think new yorkers understand a person like ed, though i think it's far to say that even diasporic communities will retain (at least) a handful of characteristics and nuances from their homelands

yesssss we all love ed! i think a lot of us know him from mock the week and his bffship with dara (i have some of their travel buddy series on my non-panel show masterpost!), but of course he's also an accomplished standup!

actually, just last month in an exclusive with metro he said this:

It seems remarkable Ed hasn’t appeared yet in its 16 seasons. ‘They haven’t asked. If they had, I would,’ Ed said, with a dash of longing. ‘There’s really only one slot per series of someone answering my description,’ he mused. ‘We’re kind of the most overprescribed demographic in the industry. There’s no shortage of people who look and sound like me that are ahead of me in the queue for that slot.’ Even so, it would have been nice… Greg? Are you listening?

(ps. that article claiming 8 out of 10 cats is cancelled... 👀 don't get me wrong, i know it's been a couple years since it's been on, but afaik no cancellation was ever announced 👀)

i know a lot of people are very hung up on the fact david mitchell said he wouldn't do taskmaster — and i'm a sure there are a handful of others who either wouldn't or couldn't when they were asked (jack dee had a scheduling conflict back in the day, right? and alex still desperately wants him?) — but one thing that has been consistently reinforced for years, and especially since taskmaster moved to channel 4, is it is far and away the biggest, most in-demand opportunity amongst comedians and light entertainers (— on network television; of course, if you're standup, your own standup special on channel 4, netflix, whatever has gotta be number one, but i disgress). taskmaster is huge: everyone talks about how comedians play 100-seat rooms, go on taskmaster, and then BOOM sell out massive tours. the show can really change your life, so there is hardly a comedian who wouldn't go on if given the chance — especially someone like ed, who i had mentioned a couple months ago being of the jenny eclair variety (an opportunist; professional jealousy ain't no stranger). i know he's waiting for that damn phone to ring!

and i think he makes an incredible point that not many series are gunning for more than one straight white middle-aged man (though it's happened before, of course). actually, i was just thinking about how that role — the white, middle-aged, experienced senior comedian — is chosen; in almost every single case, it's a very famous comedian who will draw viewers and reinforce legitimacy (frank skinner, al murray, hugh dennis, bob mortimer, rhod gilbert, david baddiel, richard herring, lee mack, alan davies, dara, you get the point) or it's a comedian who alex, whether he's friends with them or not, really really likes (tim key, dave gorman, mark watson, tim vine, mike wozniak, i know they're well-known but even ardal o'hanlon and julian clary who alex personally loves). does ed fall into either of those categories? super famous ratings draw or one of alex's friends/comedy heroes? frankly...i'm not sure...and i think that may be what's keeping him mid-way down the list...

still, very cute of the journalist from this article to be gunning so hard for him to be on the show! i have to admit, i know it might seem like i'm biased because i like him, but i really really think he would be really really good on the show. imo — and it's just imo, people will disagree — the most important aspect of the best series of taskmaster is the banter. it's people who speak up, who fight, who tease, who want to win, who want laughs, who play off the audience, who make quick friends, who talk to greg, who talk to alex. ed TALKS. ed wants screen time. ed wants to fuck around. ed wants to win. so i think he would really take advantage of the format and i'd love to see it!

you are allowed to say i told you so! it was amazing! thanks for reading my bullshit, i tried to take it really seriously so i could just link to it any time someone asks me if i've seen it hahahah who was your fave contestant?

i could write a really long response to this because it's something i have — or could find lmfao — a lot to say about, but knowing this post is already gonna be long (hahah i hate myself) lemme try to boil my brain down

1) i covered my personal opinion of what makes the strongest series of taskmaster in my (very long) recent taskmaster nz s2 post; 2) recency bias — it's in the name! people are biased because it's recent [shrug]; 3) A LOT of people have not seen every series of taskmaster (gasp! i know...) so they won't have the full taskmaster uk canon in mind when they're making such claims; 4) there is a strong divergence between the comedy nerds who watch taskmaster for comedy and the light entertainment viewers who watch taskmaster for general pleasantness, and you gotta consider who you're talking to when you're listening to someone's opinion; 5) i think there's a very long convo you could have about the reticence of a huge faction of taskmaster fans to criticise the show/tasks/contestants/alex — which is why a lot of people like it and its community, because it's often an echo chamber of positivity — but maybe we won't have that convo now haha

^ me being concise!! wow never thought we'd see that day

yes totally anon! i'll make massive gifsets of all of them when the season ends, if that works? :)

wow interesting question! i know a few people who watch taskmaster on and off, and i definitely know people like you who enjoy the odd clip (why is it always bob mortimer on wilty lmfaooo), but otherwise i wouldn't say i spend too much time convincing people to watch stuff. wilty and taskmaster are pretty accessible, but a lot of panel shows are about the uk news, uk current events, have uk c-list celeb guests, etc, and i don't think people would be interested. plus, i have you guys!!! (i don't really have internet friends besides posting here and interacting with you guys :'))

not that long ago, i was at a dinner party and someone said, "have you seen that show taskmaster?" and ... do you know what it's like for me!!! ... i had to take a deep breath and say inside my head 'sarah be cool' and i finally went, "i have! fun show haha" and not start TWITCHING ... they were telling the people around us a little bit about it and getting some of the details wrong and i just sat there nodding like :) and didn't correct them bc being a know-it-all isn't cool and i didn't want to risk it 💀

it's too bad we don't have more of a light entertainment culture here, especially a comedian-driven one :(

(so random but speaking of light entertainment has anyone else been seeing michael barrymore all over tiktok? those kids say the funniest things clips are my wholeeeee fyp)

hahaha yesss we do know suzi around here!! though she's not been on many panel shows recently-ish so i probably haven't posted her in a while. if your fave taskmaster contestants are wide-eyed, smiley people who radiate optimism and go-get-em attitudes then suzi would definitely be the one!

did i mention rick edwards or is this just your sly way of bringing up a sexy man? ...i see you anon😏 he has the face of someone who should have been working on that big wall in games of thrones you know the one where jon tory scum snow ended up? that's a specific compliment but just trust me it's complimentary

i'm sorry about your heartbreak :( it's like me with whites, we've all got that one show :(

yesss it so is! <3

is it weird to imagine joe and mike woz in the same room or is that just me...

—

WATCH LINKS MASTERPOST / FAQ / TAGS / ASK

#a #long post

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authortobenamedlater · 7 months

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😎🦋🎨🎁

From these fanfic asks.

😎 What fics do you prefer on a scale of canon compliant to wildly original?

Depends on the canon 😂 and how we define “wildly original.” I tend to get off the wildly original train when we get to coffee shop/college or university/modern AUs because the characters are usually not even themselves anymore by then.

🦋 Which character is your favorite to write?

I’ve been in this game way too long to have only one LOL.

The TV versions of Chief and Cortana are the BEST to write. I love their game selves too, but I met them through the show so that iteration of them will always be special for me.

Though I haven’t for ages, I loved writing AOS Captain Pike and my versions of Robert and Sarah April. I can never get past the starting friction to get this one rolling again.

Rex and Cody. I lost so many WIPs with them in my computer crash.

Last but most definitely not least, since they currently have my muse in a chokehold. Tom and Chyler. For some reason I find both of their voices very natural.

🎨 If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

I will keyboard smash and cry for joy if anyone ever does fanart for ANY of my stuff.

Top of my list would be something for MWAS. I would love to have a visual of Tom and Chyler together as adults. If I had the requisite photo manipulating abilities and software I’d do it myself. There’s one scene I have in mind but I haven’t written it yet.

For Such a Time As This would be a runner-up because I’d like to see the characters from B5 and Halo interacting.

I’ll throw The Toddler Invasion in there, too, just because it’s one of my best fics.

🎁 Have a piece of a WIP you want to share?

The last two fics I posted have taken up most of my time for the past several weeks but *goes on archaeological dig through WIP folder*

Ah! Here’s a good one! This is from the story of how Tom and Chyler nearly split. Working title is Neither Can The Floods Drown It. Excerpt is a little long so it’s going under a cut.

—

“I heard there was an incident with Lieutenant Lasky earlier,” Murray started.

“That’s correct, sir,” the squad leader said. “I had words with him.”

Murray nodded. “Has he ever given you problems before?” The CAG didn’t know Lasky well, but the name was one that always seemed to float to the top of the pile in a good, or at least neutral, way.

Larsen seemed to think. “He…well, let’s just say self-expression’s not one of his struggles, sir.”

Murray chuckled.

“He also likes to play a little closer to the edge than he should, if you know what I mean,” Larsen continued.

“I do.”

“But no. Lasky’s never been a problem.” The troubled look hadn’t left Larsen’s face. “He a good guy. A good officer, a damn good pilot.” He glanced up at Murray. “Keep an eye out, sir, he might have your job in twenty years.”

Murray grunted. “I’ll put him at the top of my prayer list.” He eyed Larsen. “What aren’t you telling me, Larsen?”

Larsen bit his lip. “Lasky’s wife filed for divorce, sir.”

Murray closed his eyes. “Sonofabitch,” he breathed. Divorce wasn’t uncommon in the service, but that didn’t make it any less painful. Many of the younger generation had chosen to simply forget the idea of marriage altogether.

Lasky had bucked that trend, and now he was paying for it.

#fanfiction #fanfic asks #fanfiction asks #ask game #ask box open #ask me anything #halo #married with a supercarrier au

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teddysmusings · 2 months

Text

hello everyone! i'm linny (he/him, 26, est) and i'll be playing theodore here, as well as @kaialawson! i'm a little tardy to the party, but i'm here and i'm super excited to get to get to know everyone and their muses. underneath the cut you'll find all of teddy's background information, stats, and some connection ideas! if you're interested in plotting, just drop a like and i'll shoot you a message!

B A S I C S

full name: theodore song. nicknames: theo, teddy. gender: cis man. pronouns: he/him. sexuality: pansexual. age: 30 date of birth: october 3rd, 1993. zodiac sign: libra. birthplace: brooklyn, new york. current location: jongno, seoul, south korea. residence: share house in bukchon hanok village. occupation: free lance artist and physical trainer. languages spoken: english, korean.

A P P E A R A N C E

faceclaim: matthew kim (bm). height: 6’3. build: muscular and toned. eyes: brown. hair: naturally dark brunette. piercings: standard earlobe piercings. tattoos: none. other distinguishing features: n/a. style: casual and comfortable.

P E R S O N A L I T Y

traits: (+) creative, humorous, friendly, loyal , affectionate. (-) finicky, eccentric, too friendly, jealous, clingy. mental health: good standing. physical health: great physical shape. likes: art, museums, literature, parties, working out, traveling. dislikes: intolerant people, rude people, bullies, organized religion. fears: death. phobias: the dark. hobbies: sculpting, painting, drawing, photography, reading, hiking, working out. skills: cooking, art, tbd. quirks: rubbing the back of his neck, snorting when amused or annoyed, being handsy and touchy with his closest friends.

F A V O R I T E S

ice cream flavour: strawberry. time of the day / night: early morning. weather: fall weather. breakfast food: eggs, bacon, pancakes dinner food: pizza, anything with meat. colours: blue, purple, black. music: flo, ayra starr, iu, park hyoshin, beyonce, twice, jay-z, j. cole, doechii, ariana grande, harry styles, troye sivan.

M I S C E L A N E O U S

a cherished item: a photo of himself, his younger sibling and his parents. first love ( celeb crush ): iu / keke palmer / chad michael murray. usual mood: happy. 1 thing they want to do / experience before they die: have an art exhibit.

B I O

Growing up without parents is something that no one should have to suffer through, but unfortunately for Theodore, he had no choice. When he was eight years old, his parents were taken from him too soon, due to a drunk driving accident. He himself was in the car along with them, but fortunately he wasn’t harmed in the collision apart from a few scrapes and bruises here and there. Despite being so young when he lost his parents, he remembers them with crystal clear accuracy. He was very close to his parents, especially his mother. He was what people would normally call a mama’s boy.

Unlike a lot of boys who cling to their fathers while growing up, Teddy found himself clinging to his mother instead. He formed a special bond with her that people couldn’t really understand and after a while stopped trying to understand. He spent a lot of time with her during the first six years of his life. She was an art school teacher, and she would bring him along with her to work, which was the jumping off point for his love of art. Everything he knows about art today stems from watching her teach her classes, and while he couldn’t really comprehend everything she was saying back then, he was exposed to it quite early, which made it easier for him to adjust to art and all its forms when he started to really study it.

When he was just a few years old, his parents had another baby. He was excited to have a younger sibling, one that he could take care of and have a strong bond with. His little sibling had a love for art as well, and that was something they both bonded over. Even though they were both very young, it was very obvious that the both of them wanted to be artists in some way, shape or form. Their mother surrounded them with art and they both took to it like fish to water. His younger sibling was incredibly close to him, and he loved the bond that the two of them shared. Despite the difference in their ages, they were practically best friends who did everything together.

When their parents passed away, the two of them were forced to separate from one another. They weren’t given a choice in the matter because they were so young. Almost immediately his sibling was adopted and he was placed in foster care, something that he hated with every fiber of his being. The foster family he lived with drove him absolutely crazy. They were diehard Catholics and always tried to enforce their views and religious values onto him, which he had no choice but to accept when he was growing up. As he grew older, the more they tried to force religion onto him, the more he rejected it. By the time he was twelve or thirteen years of age, he had already come to the conclusion that he would not follow through with any religion once he came of age. The idea of organized religion had already been tainted for him, and he no longer wanted anything to do with it anymore. Despite his conclusion that he wouldn’t affiliate himself with any religions anymore, his foster parents forced him to attend bible study, Sunday school and even made him participate in the church’s art classes for children. Although that was something he didn’t really mind in the slightest. Being a part of the church’s art class had somewhat revitalized the love he had for art when he was a little kid, and he found himself looking forward for church every Sunday, because that meant he got to do what he loved.

As soon as he turned eighteen, Teddy set off on his search for his younger sibling, wanting to find them and reconnect with them. His foster parents hadn’t allowed him to do so while he was growing up, but now that he was legal and officially out from under their thumb, he knew there was nothing they could do to stop him from looking for his lost sibling. His search for his kin led him to South Korea, where his parents grew up. Upon finding his sibling and reconnecting with them, he also fell in love with the country. It was the exact change of scenery that he needed and had given him a new incentive to continue on with his art.

These days, Theodore works as a freelance artist and when he’s not making money doing commissions and projects for people here and there, he makes a living being a personal trainer. He hopes to someday kick off his career as a professional, full time artist, but until then, he’s happy having it as a side job and hobby.

C O N N E C T I O N S

his younger sibling: self explanatory, i'll probably send in a wc to the main for this one, but if you're interested and have a muse that fits or you want to bring in a muse in the future that might fit, just let me know!

ex ( multiple ): teddy is a lover through and through, so it's not surprising that he's had a few relationships here and there. some lasting longer than others.

fwb ( multiple ): a guy's got needs, and this person never fails to fulfill them whenever he calls on them and vice versa.

inspo: teddy's made art pieces about / for this person before.

best friend / platonic soulmate: the peanut butter to teddy's jelly. the patrick to teddy's spongebob. the milk to teddy's cereal.

bad influence: teddy, despite his appearance, is a lot sweeter and soft than he appears to be. this person is the one that talks him into tapping into his not so nice side. he's been taken advantage of for his kindness before, and this person is tired of seeing people use teddy like that.

tug-of-war: these two go back and forth. one minute they're going on outings and dates and are all cuddled up, then the next they're arguing and fussing. a hot and cold type of relationship that teddy can't seem to get out of. they care for each other, but whenever they try to be anything more than friends, it falls apart.

practically roommates ( multiple ): teddy has his own place and his own roommate, but these two are always hanging out at each other's places. teddy really enjoys their company and vice versa.

note: if you can't find anything to your liking here, we can always brainstorm!

#jongno:hello #( teddy intro. )

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notyour-valentine · 2 years

Note

36 with our Lizzie?

Also a cake and carrot for celebrating! 🎂🥕

Wine and Water ~ Lizzie Shelby & Reader (Fluff)

[Celebration] [Celebration Masterlist] [Masterlist]

(18/21+). I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Notes: This can be seen as a standalone or a sequel to this

Words: 821 words

The auction had been somewhat of a success.

She did manage to get that Medusa bracelet which she had had her eye on, but had failed to get the painting of Judith beheading Holofernes. And then Mr. Murray and Sir John had been red with rage as they tried to outbid themselves over some miniature warship, which had been delightful to watch. Like two dogs fighting, not the scrappy street kind fighting for a bone, but the fat little lapdogs, who could barely move wiggling their ugly bodies to reach a treat first.

Afterwards, there was more champagne, canapes, and chatter, but she soon excused herself to the restrooms, not because she needed to, but because she wanted some silence.

Using the opportunity, she was just retouching her lipstick, when the door opened once more, revealing a no longer strange face.

“Ah sorry,”, Mrs Shelby mumbled as she saw her.

“Don’t worry.”, she told her with a smirk. “This is the Ladies room - you have as much right to be here as me.”

The corner of her lip twitched and she glanced at the door, making her realise the meaning of her words.

For a woman of admirable height, Mrs Shelby moved like one half her size, as if she wanted to make herself as small as possible, almost unnoticeable.

It was sad to see, but it was a sad world, so she wasn’t surprised.

Not wanting to stare, she turned her back on the other woman and went back to her lipstick.

To her surprise though, Mrs Shelby watched her.

“My husband says you have a reputation.”, she said.

“I suppose we all do.”

She huffed slightly.

“He says you enjoy tormenting men.”

That made her smile, and she turned, biting the desire to lick her freshly painted lips.

“I don’t torment men, Mrs Shelby, at least not unless they deserve it.”

She tilted her head and smirked.

“And it is not for enjoyment, it is for a sense of justice- or satisfaction.”

Mrs Shelby didn’t look all too convinced and so she walked over to her and gave her hands a little squeeze.

“I don’t mind men, Mrs Shelby. I just happen to be able to see humorous way of their collective existence.”

“Like what?”, she wanted to know.

“Well,”, she mused, “For one they always like to remind us that we are the weaker sex.”

She clicked her tongue as if she was scolding them at the notion.

“Well, I have children, so do you, don’t you?”

The realisation made her smile just barely as she nodded.

“Alright, yes.”

“Quod erat demonstrandum.”, she said, already half turned when she saw a flash of fear in her eyes, before she quickly lowered them.

That short quick moment of their shared joke was gone, shattered on the ground by her slip of the tongue.

By now, by her voice and posture and the way she presented herself, she had long realised that Mrs Shelby wasn’t comfortable here. And now she had made her even more uncomfortable, which wasn’t at all her intention.

“It means “which was to be demonstrated.””, she said softly, “People use it when they’ve proven their argument.”

“Oh.”, Mrs Shelby muttered, clearing her throat.

“No need to blush.”, she assured her. “Latin is a terrible beast of a language, in fact, it is said that if the Romans themselves had to learn it, they never would have had the time to conquer half the known world. But it is rather useful if you want to appear smarter than you actually are.”

She dismissed it all with a wave and felt a pang of relief when Mrs Shelby seemed to relax slightly.

“There are like twenty phrases people use and the rest, well, everyone’s forgotten that as soon as they leave the school room. So if it goes beyond that, people just nod and pretend, without daring to question it as they are all afraid of being called out.”

“Is that why you like to humiliate men, ‘cause they don’t know what they are talking about?”

There was uncertainty in her voice, and she knew the question had a double meaning.

“I don’t mind a lack of knowledge. In fact, there are infinitely more things I don’t know than those I will ever have the time to learn. Unfortunately, not everyone disagrees with my assessment. Most people have rather insufferable delusions of grandeur.”

Offering the other woman a smile she took a deep breath.

“I don’t like to humiliate in anyone, but I do have a certain and rather concrete dislike about people who refuse to accept the limitations of their own personhood, station, knowledge, role in society. It is usually them who preach water and drink wine and I can’t stand that.”

She smiled up at the taller woman.

“I’m sure you have the misfortune of knowing the kind.”

Mrs Shelby snorted.

“Oh trust me I do.”

End

Thank you so much for requesting and for participating in my celebration - I hope you liked it! As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Taglist

Overall

@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @chlorrox @watercolorskyy @books-livre @quarterpastmidnight @lilyevanswhore @polishcrazyone @zablife @just-a-harmless-patato @stevie75 @flyingjosephine-blog @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @alex-in-the-wilderness @babayaga67 @butterfly-skinnylegend @shelbydelrey @mrkdvidal1989 @lothbrokcore

#valentines1k #valentineswritings #ask me to dance #lizzie stark #lizzie shelby #elizabeth stark #elizabeth shelby #lizzie stark imagine #lizzie shelby imagine #lizzie stark x reader #lizzie shelby x reader #lizzie stark & reader #lizzie shelby & reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine

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sodascribbles · 11 months

Text

two weeks of whump: day four

(read on ao3 here!)

Definitely not late! For @.promptsforyourwhumpfic's Two Weeks of Whump Challenge!

Belt | Gas Mask | Cage

characters — murray, the contessa, misc. guards, sly mentioned

contains — cage <3, stress position i think??, again the furry equivalent of dehumanization

notes — some helpful inspo :] ok don’t question the logistics of non-sentient and sentient animals co-existing we KNOW that’s canonically how it works (see muggshot’s bulldogs, rajan’s elephants, various nonsentient rats) but. don’t. don’t think about it too hard okay

In a fucked up way, he's almost proud.

Sly’s learned how to keep his head down. Murray has not. He fights his way through a good half of the guards on-duty before they can pin him down, bruised and battered but smiling, shouting, “Is that all you’ve got?!”

He’s wrestled into a space much too small for him, kicking and screaming all the while. It’s a cage, a literal fucking— Murray doesn’t know a lot about the technicalities of things, but that can’t be legal, right? (Eventually, both him and Sly will figure out that it didn’t matter. In the prison, the Contessa was the law.)

He’s not even really able to stand, hunched in on himself in the tiny space. It’s like he’s a caged animal— well, okay, Murray supposes that technically he is a caged animal, but semantics really aren’t his concern right now. Small as it is, he’s curled in the corner.

It’s almost vulnerable. Murray’s kind of a big guy, and to be forced to feel so small…

Physically it sucks, too. He doesn’t really know how long he’s been sitting in here, but he’s started to ache; his back’s protesting, throbbing outward from where his shoulders are pressed to the wire. He thinks his knees are bruised, too, both from the cage itself and from sitting so long on the cold concrete below.

The blood on his snout has dried, crusted uncomfortably against his upper lip. He reaches up to rub it away— but there’s still not a lot of room to move here, and he elbows the wire and knocks himself in the jaw. He eventually just drops his hands back into his lap, sighing.

At some point, the skitter of too-many-fucking-legs lets Murray know that somebody’s finally come to visit him. (Not that he really wanted her of all people to visit. He would have much preferred Sly.)

The Contessa tilts her head at him, smiling. She did that a lot, he’d noticed, always sickeningly sweet. He can’t wait to whack the look right off of her. “That’s quite the predicament you’re in!” She steps forward, and Murray draws back, face twisting into a snarl. He must really look like a caged animal now, huh?

“Do you want out?” Her tone pitches up, light and mocking, and Murray realizes that’s exactly what she’s getting at. She’s talking to him like one might a particularly stupid (wild) animal. He winces at the thought and tries to straighten up, but the cage makes it impossible.

The Contessa laughs. “Oh, you must,” she says, watching him strain against the wire. She reaches up to reveal a ring of keys in her hand, taking one between her claws, and for a moment, Murray dares to hope.

“You’ve been causing quite a lot of trouble for my guards,” she says, her smile unfaltering but her jaw tight. “I think you should do something to make up for that, first.” His hope pops like a bubble on a blade.

She pretends to muse over this for a few moments, analyzing him. “Perhaps we’ll start with asking nicely.”

Murray narrows his eyes at her, internally weighing his options. The idea of it burns, red-hot and nauseous— he’d taken down a whole squad of wolves, and now he was considering playing nice because, what, she’d asked him to?

…but he aches. If he wants to fight his way out of here (and what else could he do?), he’s going to need to be in top shape. And this? This is not top shape.

Unsatisfied with his hesitation, the Contessa clicks her tongue. “So be it,” she sighs. She reaches forward, reaching a claw through the wire to tip his head up— Murray winces as his head’s pressed to the top of the cage. “I suppose this does take care of some things. You’re quite a bit more… tolerable, like this,” she coos, smiling once more.

Oh, I’ll show her tolerable, Murray thinks, and then he bites her hand.

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mydemimonde · 2 years

Text

the girl who lives in delusion | eddie munson x fem reader

a/n: so after listening to right were you left me on loop for the last 2 hours, i decided to write this. hope you like it ♡

warnings: just angst lol. and remember that english's not my first language, there could be some mistakes

it's been two years since his death.

the last time they saw each other was on march 20th, 1986. a thursday. it was a especial occasion, they were celebrating a year of their relationship. eddie had been saving money for weeks to take her to enzo's.

"eddie, you didn't have to do all of this" her girlfriend chuckled as eddie pulled out the chair for her. she was wearing a beautiful red dress, her hair pinned up in a messy bun, some strands of hair framing her face.

to eddie, she looked like a dream. he could write songs about her —in fact, he did. so many times. she was his muse, his everything. his heart threatened to get out of his chest every time he looked at her. he still got nervous when he was around her.

to her, he looked breathtaking. he was actually wearing a suit –something he said he would never wear. but after hearing her say how hot he would look in a suit, he thought twice. his white shirt was unbuttoned, and she had to make an effort not to look at his chest the whole night.

he sat down in front of her and took her hand into his "sweetheart, you deserve only the best. and you look amazing tonight" he kissed her knuckles as she blushed. "so, what should we order tonight?" they both looked at the menu.

that was the last time they saw each other. since hellfire meetings were on friday nights, they planned to hang out on saturday. but that day never came.

instead, she found herself crying as dustin broke the news to her, she could feel the mascara running through her cheeks. after she calmed down a little, she demanded an explanation. dustin told her everything about the upside down. and how his last words were "let her know i love her. im always gonna watch over her"

everybody moved on

i stayed there

and that was two whole years ago. the last time she saw dustin and his friends was a few months after the "earthquake", at eddie's memorial. it was small, just for friends and family —wayne, dustin, mike, lucas, erica, steve, robin, nancy. she got to meet the rest of the group: el, will, jonathan, argyle, murray and joyce. jim hopper, whom she thought was dead, was there too.

the week after the memorial, wayne told her he was moving out of hawkins. he had no family there, not anymore. before leaving, he gave her a tight hug, thanking her for the happiness she brought to his nephew.

she thought about moving, too. she couldn't bear living in a town that hated him, but at the same time, she couldn't. not when all of her memories with him were made in that town. she felt that as soon as she stepped foot out of hawkins, the memories would fade. and that was the last thing she wanted.

help, I'm still at the restaurant

still sitting in a corner I haunt

cross-legged in the dim light

they say, "what a sad sight"

that's why she's sitting in the same corner at enzo's. the waiters already know her —she goes there every thursday night. she drinks the same wine eddie ordered on their last date. it's not expensive, but it's not the cheapest option either. some clients look at her with pity, probably thiking her date stood her up.

every thursday she does the same. she watches the different couples having dinner. right now there's an old couple on the table in front of her, the woman is talking while her husband is looking at her, eyes full of love and admiration.

on the next table there's a younger couple laughing, the woman's engagement ring is shinning brightly. she has an adorable baby bump too.

that could be us. should be us, she thought.

sometimes, she stares at the door, like waiting for eddie to show up eventually, apologising for being late, a bouquet of flowers in his left hand.

but it never happens.

did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen?

time went on for everybody else, she won't know it

the last thing she heard from her friends was that dustin is now the leader of the hellfire club. apparently he has been letting his hair grow to his shoulders, like his hero eddie.

joyce and hopper got married. nancy and jonathan moved in together. robin and vickie had been dating for a year. and steve finally found the right person.

everybody moved on but her.

because eddie left her there. he left her no choice but to stay there forever.

"im right were you left me"

#eddie munson #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x female reader #joseph quinn #stranger things #taylor swift #oneshot #sad #mydemimondewrites

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tfsroleplay · 1 year

Note

Do you have a favorite food? What's your favorite breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert? (for the muse of your choice!)

Questions for Muses

"...Well, yeah, I have a favorite food, though I can't have it anymore... Not cause I'm allergic o' somethin', but cause the only person who knew how ta make it how I like was my Mom..."

He smiles, that's a rare look for him.

"She would always make udon noodle soup when I was upset o' somethin' an' I dunno if she jus' did somethin' different when she cooked it, but I jus' can't seem ta eat any otha version than how she cooked it. Dunno if it's jus' my kid nostalgia messin' up my tastebuds o' what but nothin' I've tried tastes as good... Wish Dad an' I could figure out what she did..."

He chuckles, shaking his head.

"As fer favorite meals, I'd say breakfast is jus' somethin' simple like eggs, lunch an' dinner are... well, Mom's udon still holds both those titles. I could eat a lot more than I shoulda o' it given the chance. A close second is this seafood dish Mr. Murray makes, I wanna say it's jus' pickled herring but fancy-ish? Dunno, ya'd hafta ask 'im. I might work in the Cafe but I don't know shit about cookin'. 'S why I clean an' ring up customers... Dessert... I ain't as big on sweets as Cordelia, but I do like shaved ice wit' like, mango syrup..."

#((ask answers))#orbitaldeathwoomy #tfs arius #((arius reminiscing about his childhood :') ))#((it just makes him a little sad))

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hoggleswart · 2 months

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1, 3, 5, 7, 9, 11 !

when were you first introduced to tumblr rp, & do you remember how?

i feel like i’ve been on tumblr rp since forever, but realistically it’s probably … around 10ish years maybe? i was super nervous at first because i didn’t really understand how tumblr rp worked. i feel like the places i was roleplaying on previous to tumblr were very different, and also weren’t group-centric, but thankfully i was introduced by a friend already rp’ing on tumblr so i had a lil guide. if i’m remembering right, my first ever experience was a harry potter rp writing my boy, seamus & y’know it’s an old group when i tell you i was still using dear ol’ devon murray as his faceclaim. not long after, i discovered indie roleplay, fandom roleplays & simply never left. here i still am!

do you prefer to write in silence, or with music / background noise?

my main go-to is music, especially if i already have a playlist set up for the muse i’m trying to write. it helps me get into the feel of their character, their personality, their experiences vs how they would respond to current ones happening, etc. that said! i can get very easily distracted when it’s a song i like and end up putting on a one woman concert instead, so sometimes i have to admit defeat and either write in silence, or put on a show / film i’ve already seen 1000 times so i don’t focus too much on it.

what character have you never written, but have wanted to?

hmm … nox-wise? i’ve eyed ron weasley more than once. i don’t think i ever would for a multitude of reasons, the fact i already write arthur being the main one, but i’m definitely drawn to his character & i often think about how much fun i’d have slotting him into the nox world, especially now ginny & draco are public like hello?? we are missing out on comedy gold family drama right now. similarly, i’ve also had many, many thoughts about how much fun i would have with bill weasley & lee jordan. away from nox and just in general, there’s an original character who lives rentfree in my mind built around david bowie’s major tom. maybe i’ll bring him to life one day somewhere. maybe.

what character/s do you relate to the most?

this is a hard question because i feel like when it comes to picking and loving characters, it’s less about who i relate to & more about who i’m drawn to. i get invested in such a weird array of characters that are so different from one another, but! there is, without a shadow of a doubt, two types of character you can guarantee i’ll love & people who know me are never surprised when they learn i do, and those are … one, the kinda batshit insane villain with a tragic backstory arc ( see negan from the walking dead, klaus mikaelson from tvdu … ) & two, the side character that most of the fandom forget about, didn’t even survive an entire season before dying tragically with only seven minutes of screentime. examples of this are denny duquette in grey’s anatomy & doyle in angel. that’s just my bread and butter. when it comes to characters i can relate to the most, it’s probably the ones whose stories are connected to my own experiences more than an actual specific type of character.

do you prefer writing original characters or canon characters?

i don’t think i have a preference. i love canon characters & i love original characters. our favourite canon was someone’s original character once upon a time after all! i do really enjoy the freedom that comes with an original character: someone you’re able to build from scratch. you control their backstory, their personality, their experiences. canon characters can come with a few more restraints, as they’ve already had part of their story told, but at the same time … that’s just as fun, because you’re writing someone you’ve grown to love & you’re adding some extra excitement with your own interpretation. honestly, i just love writing.

what is a headcanon you have for [ character ] that you haven’t posted?

i struggled to pick a character for this one, so instead have a string of random facts about several: andie once had aspirations of becoming a healer, but the year she finally had enough savings to apply for training was the same year she fell pregnant & now, she neither has the time nor the finances to spare, but that’s okay. raising marco is her new dream. / millicent knows exactly where her obliviated - father lives & works, despite insisting they do not care what happened to him after the ministry wiped his memories. it’s more about self - preservation than a longing to know him. as long as she knows where he is, she also knows how to avoid him! / the podcast justin hosts is a true crime one, predominantly around muggle history / arthur has a molly - centric tattoo that his children must never learn about. he’s managed to keep it hidden this long!

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soldwreckedmoved · 9 months

Text

SPENCER “SPENCE” MURRAY

did you see i had a ten dollar bill on the dresser?

NAME: spencer murray. goes by spence.

AGE: 21

D.O.B: december 3, 1948

SEX: male

ORIENTATION: polysexual

OCCUPATION: activist

FAMILY: born to joseph and alice murray, both alive. no siblings. partners and children are verse dependent.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE: lanky but muscular. brown hair and blue eyes. wears t-shirts or tank tops with jeans and work boots. also wears a green jacket and glasses with round black frames.

EDUCATION: high school education. dropped out of college during his sophomore year to pursue activism full time.

RELIGION: atheist

ALIGNMENT: neutral good

ZODIAC: sagittarius

PERSONALITY:

i think we should table the car versus van discussion.

quiet. a bit awkward. passionate about what he cares about. still trying to figure his life out. dedicated. loyal.

HISTORY:

Spencer Murray was born to Joseph and Alice Murray on December 3rd, 1948. He was a quiet baby and a quiet child. His parents worried that he’d have trouble making friends, but he never seemed to care if he had any friends or not. People gravitated towards him regardless. He had a quiet sort of charm that made you want to sit and listen to him for hours.

He went to college for a year and a half and then dropped out. His professors didn’t understand the actual issues that were going on and it annoyed Spence to no end. So he decided to stop listening and leave. He met a girl named Jenny a month after he dropped out and she invited him to live with her and her friends, who were all activists of a sort. Spence, having nothing better to do and nowhere to live anyway, agreed. Jenny introduced him to everyone and he moved in a week later.

It had been almost a year since Spence moved in and nothing had gotten better. In fact, everything had gotten worse. They never had enough money for rent and no one seemed to want to listen to a bunch of college dropouts. Spence did his best to maintain the peace, but he knew he couldn’t hold everything together forever. Everything was made, somehow, even worse, when Peggy showed up. She tried to worm her way into their lives and was, unfortunately, somewhat successful. The group kicked her out after two weeks and everything went back to falling apart.

tags

verses

pity the child that has ambition//verse - pre canon. spence is in college and hating it. he doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life, nor does he have any clue why he went to college in the first place. he meets a girl named jenny one day and she tells him that she’s living with a few other dropouts and they’re going to try and change the world. this sounds like a good idea to spence, who isn’t all that happy with the way the world is at the moment. he drops out and moves in with jenny and the others within a week.

a bunch of angry kids with no money//verse - canon. jenny, quinn, spence and the others are all living together. they never have enough money to make rent and the reality of their situation is slowly starting to settle in. it’s made worse by the arrival of peggy, a seventeen year old girl who tries to get in the way of jenny, quinn and spence’s relationship. she generally stirs up trouble and makes everything worse for the group and it’s decided that she needs to go.

no need to endure anymore//verse - post canon. peggy is kicked out and yet everything isn’t back to normal. the group is falling apart and peggy only made it worse. they all go their separate ways and spence is left homeless and jobless, floating around chicago aimlessly, still trying to find his purpose in life.

it’s only insane if you let it be//verse - any and all interactions with muses that do not exist in the days of rage universe. this includes fandomless ocs. it does not include days of rage ocs.

ships

and suddenly all the love songs were about you//otp: spence/quinn/jenny

feels like we’ve been falling down like these autumn leaves//otp: spence/alaska

dynamics

two hearts in one home//dyn: spence/jenny

wherever i go you bring me home//dyn: spence/quinn

she never let her bed get cold//dyn: spence/peggy

miscellaneous

i’ll shout and start a riot//aesthetic

not quite sure what i believe but i know that it’s true//headcanon

he’s cute in a dorky sort of way//faceclaim

#char: spence murray #pity the child that has ambition//verse #a bunch of angry kids with no money//verse #no need to endure anymore//verse #it’s only insane if you let it be//verse #and suddenly all the love songs were about you//otp: spence/quinn/jenny #feels like we’ve been falling down like these autumn leaves//otp: spence/alaska #i’ll shout and start a riot//aesthetic #not quite sure what i believe but i know that it’s true//headcanon #he’s cute in a dorky sort of way//faceclaim

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justacomedy-archived · 2 years

Text

Penny: “Thomas Wayne-”

Arthur: *aggressively washes the dishes*

#✦✧do you know what it's like out there murray?✧✦ ➝ ( musings )#idk I can’t get the image of Arthur angrily doing the dishes out of my head #maybe it’s bc I’m about to angrily do the dishes at 12:30am

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luvdsc · 3 years

Text

haha, what if we kissed? (lol jk... unless?)

fact! you’re secretly in love with your best friend, and so is he!

pairing :: zhong chenle x reader genre :: fluff / best friend, buzzfeed worth it au word count :: 5,072 words warnings :: none playlist :: sunny afternoon (red velvet) ⋆ about love (marina) ⋆ all about you (nct u) ⋆ love (x lovers) ⋆ bella notte (f. murray abraham & arturo castro) author’s note :: i literally just finished writing the rest of this in my meetings today and am posting during my lunchbreak, but happy (1 day late) birthday, chenle sweetheart!! ♡ ↳ part of the not clickbait series.

“Hello, and welcome back to another episode of Dream: Worth It!”

Chenle shouts loudly from the driver’s seat, waving excitedly at the camera attached to the dashboard as he waits for the traffic light to turn green. You visibly flinch in your spot on the passenger's side, startled by the sudden greeting, and even Jisung jumps in the backseat, almost dropping the camcorder he was fiddling with.

Your best friend continues to give the camera a dazzling smile, paying no attention to your and Jisung’s brief glares. “Today on Worth It, thanks to a fan’s suggestion, we’ll be trying out three different spaghetti dishes at three drastically different price points to find out which one is most worth it at its price!”

“Yes,” you chime in, nodding excitedly at the camera and giving a little wave. “So if you want to see another riveting episode of Chenle and Jisung going on three dates at three drastically different price points while I third wheel again, please stay tuned!”

“Hey!”

Both the boys wildly protest, but you blatantly ignore them, checking your phone quickly before beaming at the camera again. “So here’s our first spaghetti fact! The word ‘spaghetti’ is actually the plural version of spaghetto. Spaghetto comes from the Italian word spago, which means twine or thin string.”

“Wait, that actually makes sense. Spaghetti looks like thin strings,” Chenle says, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“Yeah, basically every language makes sense, except for English,” you remark, setting your phone down in your lap before turning to your best friend. “So are you excited for this episode’s dish?”

“Yes! Shout out to Moony for your suggestion,” Chenle calls out, driving forward before making a right. “If anyone else has any suggestions for future videos, please feel free to comment below.”

You start to explain the first restaurant to your viewers. “Our first stop is called Legalize Marinara! It’s a small hole in the wall place in downtown LA, and fresh pasta is made everyday. We’ll be talking to the owner and chef Johnny Suh about the daily process.”

“And cut!” Jisung calls out, and you stop there, pressing the off button to end the recording. Later on, the three of you will have to work on snipping up the recordings to create a smooth transition from there to a shot of Johnny and his restaurant before jumping into your quick interview with him.

You quickly scroll through the questions you had written ahead of time to ask Johnny on your phone, mouthing the words and memorizing them. You were always the one who asked about the history of the restaurant because Chenle wasn’t as good with the more sentimental questions and preferred the light hearted ones about the food specifically, which you didn’t mind. As long as you get to try good food at the end of it, you’re one very happy, very stuffed camper. You are very much looking forward to visiting Legalize Marinara.

“—and that’s how the pasta is freshly made everyday in the morning.” Johnny finishes up, giving the camera a very charismatic smile and a wink. “We also have a special brew of coffee created by my dad, but that’s a story for another episode. I’ll bring out the spaghetti once it’s ready.”

You and Chenle thank him before going over to sit at one of the small metal tables near the entrance. The place had a sort of modern, yet retro feel to it with an eclectic mix of vintage, kitschy furniture adding pops of color here and there to the otherwise simple space with a neutral palette. The name of the restaurant flashes as a neon sign, serving as the main wall decor along with records scattered here and there on the wall as well.

Jisung stands across from the two of you, propping the large camera on his shoulder in preparation. You and Chenle both take a sip of the special coffee drinks Johnny prepared for you each on the house, pleasantly surprised by the crisp, refreshing taste your taste buds are immediately hit with. Johnny appears minutes later, a pretty plate of simple spaghetti and meatballs along with some Parmesan and garnish on top in hand.

“Here’s our most popular dish: spaghetti with meatballs!” he announces, placing the plate in front of you both carefully. “It’s a simple tomato sauce, but it’s made with organic, local ingredients that we get from the farmer’s market every morning. We get the fresh meat from the butcher down the block everyday to make the meatballs and buy the cheese from local sellers as well. We also add the secret spice mixture created by my mom to the meatballs, which gives it a distinct flavor from other restaurants. Please dig in, guys!”

You immediately swirl your fork into the plate of spaghetti. It looks and smells absolutely fantastic, and your mouth is already watering. You cannot believe that this only costs thirteen dollars. This is an absolute steal. You are just about to take a bite when—

“Wait! We didn’t do a ‘cheers’ yet!” Chenle exclaims, sticking out his fork towards you. You clink your fork against his own metal utensil, and he’s finally satisfied, retracting his arm. Finally, you take the much anticipated bite. The flavors absolutely explode in your mouth, and you’re already reaching out to take a second forkful of the delicious masterpiece.

“This is amazing,” you declare, and Chenle nods enthusiastically, spearing a meatball with his fork. Jisung briefly pans the camera over to Johnny, who shows a double thumbs up before doing finger guns and giving an exaggerated wink.

“Here, try this.” Chenle cuts a piece of the meatball and offers it to you. You reach out for it, but he pulls back, smiling widely and eyes sparkling. “Nuh uh, that’s too easy. Say ah, Y/N.”

“I—” Your cheeks grow warmer than ever, and his grin grows broader, wriggling the fork in front of you. Face burning, you move forward and take a bite. You can hear Jisung fake gagging behind the camera and very much would like to flip him the bird, but you are a professional. You’ll get him back for that later. After all, revenge is a dish best served piping hot and spicy, and you have some Carolina reapers leftover from another video that may accidentally find its way into Jisung’s ramen next time.

You and Chenle spend some more time describing the dish in between bites as Johnny pipes in here and there with some well placed dad jokes that has Jisung shaking his head behind the camera. By the end of it, you both are very happy, and you switch places with Jisung who has a chance to try out the pasta himself at last. He silently eats it before tossing a thumbs up at the camera, and you stop the recording there. After thanking Johnny once more before the three of you leave, you all pile into your car and get ready to go to the next stop.

Up next: Penne for your Thoughts.

“Can we stop here?” Jisung pipes up, peering out the window with interest. His eyes scan the surroundings, peering at the empty space and the wide stairs in front of the spiraling columns of a grand building.

You furrow your eyebrows, glancing at your friend in the backseat. “We’re still a couple blocks away from the restaurant though.”

“This looks like a good spot to film a dance,” he muses to himself before sitting up straighter. “Can we take a quick break? We’re still early, and I wanted to film a quick TikTok before the sun sets.”

You look over at Chenle, who shrugs and pulls over. He backs up into an available parking space, parallel parking smoothly, one hand gripping the back of your seat and the other on the steering wheel. “Alright, do your thing, Jisungie.”

Jisung excitedly hops out from the back. You and Chenle follow suit, locking the car behind you. Your friend is busy setting up his collapsible tripod before placing his phone on it and calling over to you, “Hey, can you stand in front, Y/N? I wanna angle this correctly and check the lighting.”

You move in front of his phone, standing several steps in front of the stairs. Jisung fiddles around with his phone for a few moments, switching up some of the settings and zoom functions before straightening up, eyes bright. “Okay, stay there to mark the spot! I’m gonna press the start button to record. Chenle, can I borrow your phone? I need to play the song for the dance.”

Chenle hands him his phone, and the familiar intro to Doja Cat’s “Say So” begins to blast on top volume. Jisung hands it back to its owner and hurriedly moves to stand in front of his own recording phone as you step aside. “I kinda also need you two in my TikTok.”

“Wait, what? I don’t know the dance,” you protest, starting to back out, but Jisung grabs your hand, pulling you into view, as Chenle bounces over with a shrug of his shoulders, never one to shy away from the camera.

“You don’t need to dance. I just need you both to uh, kiss my cheek on, um, both sides when I tap on them both. It should be the fourth time she says ‘say so’ in the song,” he stammers slightly, face turning slightly pink. He avoids making eye contact as you give him a suspicious look, crossing your arms over your chest.

“What? Why?”

“It’s part of the dance! Now get out of the shot please because the chorus is finally coming up again!” He unceremoniously shoves you out of the frame, and Chenle quickly catches you before you faceplant into the ground. You have a few choice words to yell at your friend and are about to furiously march over to him, but Chenle tightens his grip on you. “Let’s just let him finish, and we can go on. You know how he is about dancing.”

“I’m paying Renjun to put another cockroach picture as his lockscreen again,” you huff, frowning at the dancing boy. “Why didn’t you say anything about the whole kissing request anyway?”

“Eh, I’ve done it before. It’s no big deal.” Chenle shrugs, and you start to stutter, brain malfunctioning, “Wait, you did wha—”

“Oh, it’s almost our cue!” Chenle pushes you towards Jisung as he runs behind the camera to the other side, and you find yourself stumbling for a second time before catching yourself. Grumbling to yourself, you catch Chenle’s apologetic expression, and you sigh, shaking your head as you wait on the sidelines for Jisung to do the move.

And there it is.

Jisung points at his cheeks, tapping them on both sides, and you and Chenle jump into the frame. You lean forward, pressing your lips softly against— wait.

Eyes widening, you jump back in shock, mouth popping open, and the same reaction comes from your best friend when you two realize that you just kissed each other. On the lips.

Crouched on the ground, Jisung looks rather smug after quickly dropping down mid-dance and orchestrating the whole incident. He quickly stands up, striding towards the camera and ending the recording, before efficiently packing up the equipment and walking back to the car without another word.

“Did we just—” you splutter, unable to continue your sentence, as your face grows increasingly warm. Chenle refuses to make eye contact with you, the darkening blush spreading across his face like wildfire. The two of you both direct your disbelief at the same target, rushing over to the car which he boredly stands next to, waiting for Chenle to unlock it.

“Jisung!” You both shout his name, and he just stares at you both, a small grin across his face that he struggles to hide. “What?”

“‘What?’ That’s it? What was that?! Why did you do that?” you exclaim, waving your arms around. Chenle is rendered speechless, unable to say anything after the quick outburst of his other best friend’s name.

“I was tired of listening to Che—mmph!” Jisung is abruptly cut off as Chenle throws his hand over his friend’s mouth, effectively interrupting whatever he was about to say. The two of them silently look at each other, maintaining some sort of telepathic stare that’s probably discussed in the universal book of the bro code. You’ve seen Jaemin and Jeno or Renjun and Donghyuck share the same look before and never really understood it. To be honest, it kind of reminds you of that one moment where the main characters of a chick flick gaze into each others’ eyes and then kiss.

The sound of a text notification cuts off your train of thought and breaks the intense stare down going between the two boys, and you check your phone, eyes widening. “Oh my god, we’re going to be late if we don’t go now! Taeyong just texted me to confirm if we’re coming.”

The three of you hurry into the car, buckling up in your seats. Your hand lightly grazes Chenle’s amidst the rush, and you freeze. You look up, heat spreading across your face, as Chenle meets your gaze, turning redder than spaghetti sauce.

“Alright, you can continue this moment at the restaurant,” Jisung says loudly, jolting the two of you out of your stupor. You quickly retract your hand, mumbling a quick apology, and look away, cheeks still growing warmer than ever. Chenle awkwardly clears his throat and starts the car up, driving to your second stop on the map.

Penne for your Thoughts is simply lovely. It reminds you of a place you would see on the shiny cover of Architecture Digest: a hot spot where all those social influencers would take aesthetic snapshots and post to their Instagrams. The restaurant is quaint and spacious: a large area filled with lots of greenery, hanging plants in simple white ceramic pots, white painted brick walls, and wooden tables with soft cushions on each seat. Once you wrap up the interview with Taeyong, you are seated next to an open window with a great view of a pretty koi pond in the back.

“We serve Korean fusion style food here, and our spaghetti has a freshly made tomato sauce that includes chopped kimchi infused in it. We found that using garlic marinated pork belly makes a more flavorful meatball, which we char slightly, paying homage to the wonderful KBBQ samgyeopsal. We also found that a raw egg yolk on top adds a richness to the pasta, which is similar to a bowl of bibimbap. And there’s some grated Parmesan and mozzarella on top.” Taeyong sets the plate of gorgeous spaghetti in front of you and Chenle with a shy smile. “I hope you both enjoy it.”

You don’t know how else to describe the dish, except that it is beautiful (Just like the restaurant owner, like have you seen his face? Lee Taeyong is the true modern day Adonis, but you digress). You swear you saw Chenle wipe a tear from his face out of the corner of your eye. Practically salivating, you impatiently wait for Jisung to take a few close up videos and pictures of the dish before you immediately dig in.

Fork awkwardly hovering in the air, you pause, turning to Chenle. “Uh, cheers?”

His own loaded fork is halfway to his mouth when he halts. “Oh! Right. Yes. Um, cheers, Y/N.”

The two of you stiffly tap your forks against each other before facing forward again and finally taking the much desired bite. The flavors are bursting like fireworks, and if someone told you that you had died and gone to heaven, you would believe them because there’s no other word to explain the taste other than heavenly. Dante had many circles leading to the center of hell. If you are to apply the same concept to heaven, Legalize Marinara would be the first circle you enter once you go past the pearly gates, and Penne for your Thoughts would most definitely be the second.

The clinking of Chenle’s fork against the plate breaks you from your thoughts, and your good mood falters when you remember the incident again. You plaster a quick smile as you begin to describe the dish to the camera. Chenle chimes in with a wide smile of his own that looks a little too forced, but the only one who seems to notice is you.

Once the recording is wrapped up, Chenle drops you off at your apartment building for you to change into a more dressier attire for the last stop. He and Jisung will change at their place before coming back to pick you up for dinner.

Up next: Terrazza San Valentino.

The place is positively breathtaking. It is an upscale restaurant with open seating on a terrace, leading to a beautiful view of the ocean. Wisteria vines and bright flowers weave their way through the twisting low iron fences encompassing the space as they climb the sides of the building. You have the perfect seat to witness the picturesque sunset over the rippling waters. A bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon had been brought out and now rests on the covered table, uncorked and already poured out into two glasses. It very much reminds you of the beautiful restaurants you visited along the Amalfi Coast, specifically Il Capitano in Positano. You only hope that the food here will be just as amazing as the pasta you ordered there.

You just wish your company was a little better. The atmosphere felt more awkward than the time your mom had set you up on a blind date with her coworker’s son. You had to text Chenle for help that time, and he came to your rescue, helping you escape after pretending to be your long lost son. Obviously, your date wasn’t dumb enough to believe that, but he did believe that you were completely off your rockers and immediately took off after that.

Sneaking a glance at your best friend, you sigh when you realize that he refuses to look your way. You carefully tuck the skirt of your wine red dress under your crossed legs. The sweetheart neckline emphasizes the simple gold necklace you have on, and the dress tapers off at your waist, accentuating your figure perfectly. You paired the outfit with a matching lipstick, a simple black clutch, and some elegant black heels with ribbons that loop around your ankles into a pretty bow.

In other words, you look stunning, and Chenle’s palms are growing sweaty. He undos the first few buttons of his white dress shirt, desperately wanting to take off his tailored suit jacket, but his attire would look much too casual without it. He avoids eye contact with you and remains silent, growing even more flustered by the second, and looks at Jisung helplessly.

Of course, his other best friend proves to be useless again (Disappointing, but not surprising). Jisung simply wriggles his eyebrows at him, eyes darting from you to Chenle, before zooming into his face at a very unflattering angle. Chenle throws him a dirty look, and Jisung merely sticks out his tongue in response. However, they immediately smoothen their expressions into much more pleasant ones when Jaehyun comes out with the plate of food on a small cart.

“This is our play on spaghetti.” He gives you a dimpled smile, and you briefly wonder if the customers rave about this restaurant because of the food or the chef. Perhaps it is a combination of both.

He continued to explain the dish, setting it down in front of you and Chenle. “We use strangozzi that is made fresh every morning. We infuse sun dried tomatoes that we dried ourselves into the olive oil for a minimum of thirty days. The pasta is cooked for sixty seconds, while we slightly sauté grated truffle in the oil in a pan. Once the pasta is ready, we transfer it to the truffle pan and cook it for another minute, making sure to coat the pasta in the sauce. And then we grate some Parmesan and truffles right on top at the table.”

Jaehyun pulls out the expensive mushroom, generously grating thin slices on top of the glistening strands of pasta. The smell is incredible, and your eyes are already hyper fixated on the dish in front of you. He puts down the mushroom and grater, picking up the second grater and the cheese from the cart before shredding the cheese perfectly.

When he finishes, Jaehyun places them back on the cart and smiles at you both charmingly once more. “I hope you enjoy your meal. If you need anything else, please feel free to ask.”

You thank him before he leaves, and Jisung takes all the necessary shots before giving the okay to start eating. You and Chenle offer up some comments about the elegance of the dish, describing its appearance and finally twirling some on the end of your fork. You murmur a quiet “cheers” as the two of you clink your glasses of wine together and take a sip before having the first bite.

The amount of money you have to pay to have a truffle dish is absolutely worth it. The taste is simply indescribable, and you truly have no words. You are blown away by the amount of flavor that can be created with just a few ingredients, and your taste buds are singing. Wide eyed, you turn to look at Chenle, who has the same astonished expression on his face, already staring back at you in complete surprise.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, and your best friend agrees with you. “Holy shit indeed.”

You immediately go for another bite, and Chenle quickly follows suit. “This is— this is incredible. I don’t know how to describe it, except, except, wow. I can’t stop eating it, and the sun dried tomatoes, olive oil, fresh pasta al dente, and truffles just work so well together. It’s like a symphony in my mouth.”

“I agree,” Chenle nods enthusiastically, swiping another forkful of the yummy goodness. “This has to be one of the best dishes of the entire season.”

“Yeah, absolutely.” You spear a slice of the truffle with the pasta, and the ensuing bite is simply perfect and delectable. “I would come back here every single week if my bank account would let me.”

The stifled atmosphere between the two of you suddenly becomes relaxed at that point, the thick tension dissipating with food never failing to act as the perfect ice breaker and buffer simultaneously. For now, you can pretend the kiss didn’t happen and almost forget it (key word: almost).

“There’s a very popular fan suggestion,” Jisung pipes up, looking at the comment section of the previous video where you and Chenle announced your current recording’s star dish. “It got over twenty thousand likes and five hundred responses.”

“What is it?” You pause in eating, fork poised in the air, as you look over to your friend behind the camera. Chenle pays no attention, continuing to take another bite.

“Recreate the Lady and the Tramp moment.”

Your jaw drops, and your eyes grow round. Practically scandalized, your voice goes an octave higher. “You mean the kissing scene?!”

At the mention of kissing, Chenle chokes on a noodle, spluttering and nearly hacking up a lung, and you quickly reach over and firmly pat him on the back repeatedly until he stops coughing with a weak “thanks.”

“What? This is a food show! Why do they want us to kiss?” your best friend wheezes, and you pass him a glass of water. He grabs it from your outstretched hand gratefully and takes a large gulp.

“I don’t know, fan service? Anyway, it’s good for the views!” Jisung gives you a thumbs up, and you frown at him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Why don’t you do it with Chenle then?”

“It specifically says you and Chenle,” he informs smugly with a smirk, and you glower at him, much to his amusement.

“Well, if it’s for the fans…” Chenle trails off, a faint blush beginning to make its appearance on his face. He hesitantly pulls out one strand of the pasta, picking up one end on his fork.

You can’t believe this. Yet, you slowly reach out for the other end of the strand with your fork, twirling it onto the metal prongs securely. You move to take your end of the noodle, while Chenle does the same, both of you actively avoiding eye contact.

“Oh c’mon, at least make it a little more romantic than that. Jeno and Jaemin have more chemistry than you two right now,” Jisung complains, and you would very much like to chuck the half full bottle of wine at his big, annoying head (Chenle also has similar thoughts).

Taking a deep breath, you finally place the noodle’s end in your mouth. Cheeks burning, you can feel your heart rate already skyrocketing at the mere thought of kissing your best friend again. You know you’ll freeze up if you look at him, so you do your best to focus your gaze on the center of the noodle strand. You’ll have some time before the two of you meet in the middle, right?

Wrong.

It comes much too soon, and your palms are growing sweaty as your heart races in your chest at a breakneck speed. Your lips are mere millimeters away from his, and you pause. You can’t hear anything, but the pounding of your heart and the blood rushing to your cheeks, and you finally find the courage to peek up at your best friend. You find him already gazing at you, a soft expression on his face. His eyes dart down to your lips before meeting your eyes once more, and you suddenly realize that he’s waiting for you, that he won’t do anything unless you want it too, that it’s okay if you don’t.

But you do.

So you muster up all the courage you possibly can and close the distance, carefully pressing your lips against his for a tender kiss before biting off the noodle. When you pull back, you finally notice the awestruck expression written all over Chenle’s face. He lets out a small laugh of disbelief before he positively beams, bouncing in his seat, and you sport a matching smile, albeit a little bashful.

“Uh, anyway, who left that comment? We should probably give them a mention,” you say, clearing your throat and hoping the heat subsides in your cheeks soon. Chenle continues to grin like the Cheshire Cat and secretly grabs your hand underneath the tablecloth, intertwining your fingers with his. You can feel your face exponentially growing warm once again, but you still send a pleased smile to your best friend.

“Uh…” Jisung awkwardly laughs, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “‘Insert goofy’s chuckle.’”

At Jisung’s answer, you freeze up entirely in your position before immediately turning and locking eyes with Chenle in complete horror, the both of you instantly coming to the same, dreadful realization.

“HYUCK?!”

One new notification: Dream: Worth It uploaded a new video!

insert goofy’s chuckle commented:

oh my god you guys actually did it. your relationship started all thanks to ME 🙆🏻 you’re welcome btw 😘 I take payment in the form of your first born’s name

notanimpasta replied: @ insert goofy’s chuckle ok calm down rumpelstiltskin

jisung pwark replied: @ notanimpasta what a perfect nickname for him. He’s an ugly little greedy man

ghosts are real so suck it hyuck replied: @ jisung pwark LMAOOOO (and congrats, chenle and y/n!)

insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ jisung pwark what tf no one asked???

notanimpasta replied: @ jisung pwark wait hold on you were supposed to edit that end part out????

jisung pwark replied: @ notanimpasta i left it for the views ☺️

big head king replied: @ jisung pwark people watch for the food tho!!! 🙂

nana ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ replied: @ big head king I watched it for the kiss. Love is so beautiful 🥰💓💞🥺🥺💕💛💟✨💖

jenojam replied: @ big head king I had watched it for the food! but congratulations, y/n and chenle :)

insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ big head king i watched it because ron jeon said you mentioned me

ghosts are real so suck it hyuck replied: @ insert goofy’s chuckle IT’S RENJUN!!!!!! 🤬🤬

mork lee rawr xD replied: hahaha I watch for the food~

insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ mork lee rawr xD Thank you Mark, very cool!

winwin in past tense is wonwon!!! commented:

whoop whoop congrats lele 🥳🥳

rapperpunzel commented:

the pasta looks good 🍝

johnny’s communication center commented:

Thanks for stopping by! Come back for the couple’s special discount anytime 😉

baa baa yang sheep commented:

oh my god finally!!!

ghosts are real so suck it hyuck replied: @ baa baa yang sheep you owe me $50 I was right, it happened before the season finale

baa baa yang sheep replied: @ ghosts are real so suck it hyuck suddenly i’m jared, 19

xiao dejasmine commented:

hahahaha cute ! 😁😁

ty track commented:

Thank you y/n and chenle for visiting ~~ congrats on your relationship !!! -TY

junguwu (◕‿◕✿) commented:

YAAAAAS CHENLE SWEETIE 😘😘😘

jisung pwark commented:

check out my latest tiktok video @ jisungpwark to see their actual first kiss!!! and don’t forget to like, comment, and subscribe ☺️

notanimpasta replied: @ jisung pwark STOP USING US AS CLICKBAIT

jisung pwark replied: @ notanimpasta no ❤️

jisung pwark replied: @ notanimpasta also red is sus

big head king replied: @ jisung pwark so when are you gonna do the best friend kissing challenge huh 👀

jisung pwark replied: @ big head king SHUT UP CHENLE

honeyfairy replied: @ jisung pwark 😳😳

gu ren gui god commented:

wow~ very cute, chenle! my angel 😊

FIGHTING HAEYADWAE commented:

YOOOOO CONGRATS, MAN 🤩🤪🤪

prince jae commented:

thank you guys for coming by! please stop by next year on your anniversary free of charge (:

insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ prince jae omg mark and I will be there for sure ❤️

showmethemonet replied: @ insert goofy’s chuckle my new boyfriend and I will be there too ☺️

insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ showmethemonet I’m sorry, I was wrong, pls don’t leave me for bts jin even though i am so much more handsomer and talented than him 😌

apado gwenchana god commented:

nice 😎👍🏻

1K notes · View notes

direnightshade · 3 years

Text

Flight

This is just a little something I've been working on for @han-not-solo's birthday (surprise!). Thank you for allowing me to borrow Nibbles for a little cameo. I hope you have a wonderful birthday. ❤️🦉

Word Count: 2,235 Warnings: A smidge of smut but otherwise, none.

“Look at him! He’s so cute!”

The phone that you hold in your hand suddenly materializes directly in front of him, the light of the screen illuminating his face in the darkness of the bedroom the two of you lounge in. He grumbles out a ‘holy fuck’ at the abrupt brightness that’s found its way to his field of vision. In automatic response, Adam lifts his hand to grasp your wrist, prying it back away from his face, both to ease the brightness and so he can get a better look at the screen of your phone which displays your instagram feed.

“The fuck is this? A wet rat?” Of course he knows exactly what he’s looking at. This is not the first time you’ve shown him what’s currently on your phone, not to mention he isn’t fuckin’ dumb, he recognizes an owl when he sees one - even if the tiny bird is all big-eyed and soaking wet.

You scoff in reply, tugging your arm free from his grasp, the act causing a grin to spread across his face. “It’s Murray,” you reply, your tone carrying a hint of faux offense.

“Ah. Shit. Yeah, I knew that.” He waves his hand dismissively in front of himself. “He looks so different all fuckin’ wet and shit. Really does look like a rat.”

Another scoff sounds to his left where you lie and this time he can’t help but laugh, the sound loud and nasally. Beside him the mattress shifts from your movement as you roll over onto your side to face him. The screen of your phone loses its illumination as it locks itself, plunging the room into total darkness. In turn, Sackler reaches over with his hand to tug on the pull of the lamp that sits atop the nightstand to his right. The light that washes over the bedroom is a soft warm glow, quite the contrast to the blinding light of your phone. When he looks over to where you lie, he finds you looking up at him, your head propped up on one hand.

“Whaaaaat,” he asks, elongating the word unnecessarily as he so often does.

You flash him a smile and now it is his turn to scoff.

“I’d like to visit him some day,” you muse aloud before exhaling a most dramatic sigh.

Sackler watches as you flop back down onto the mattress melodramatically, his lips barely parted before he presses them together and swallows. There’s a question on the tip of his tongue, one that he’s on the verge of asking right when you speak up once more, heading him off at the pass.

“It isn’t fair, you know, you getting to fly over there for your job. Meanwhile I get left behind to babysit,” you say, pointedly eyeing a cage that sits atop the dresser at the opposite wall. As if on cue, the cage rattles with Nibbles’ movements, the sound far too loud for such a small room.

He can’t help but huff out a dry laugh, eyes rolling of their own accord when he hears your complaint. “You’re fucking kidding me, right? You bought Nipples—”

“Nibbles.”

“—not me. If it were up to me, that creepy little fucker would have been evicted the day you brought it in here.” Though he says the words, he-and you as well-know that that couldn’t be further from the truth. He’s come to love the little hamster even stubbornness prevents him from admitting such a fact to you, let alone anyone else. “It likes to watch while I fuck you for Christ’s sake!”

He slides further down onto the bed, feet hanging off the edge of the mattress when he stretches out along the length of it. “It likes to watch me fuck you. I mean if that doesn’t say what kind of pervert you’ve brought into this apartment then I don’t know what does,” he says, throwing up his hands in mock defense.

The sound of your laughter wafting out into the room following his declaration elicits a small chuckle from him, though he does his damndest to bite back the smile that has threatened to form. “I mean, fuckin’ look at it,” he continues, waving a hand in the direction of the cage. “It’s looking at my dick right now!”

It’s in this moment that even you have to admit that in the low light that barely manages to illuminate the room, the sight of Nibbles standing at the front of the cage, tiny paws grasping the thin white bars and beady little eyes staring intently in your direction is a bit creepy…

“Fine,” you reply, shifting to roll off of the mattress. Adam watches with rapt attention as your naked form sashays across the small room to approach the cage.

Though you are bent over, whispering sweet little words to Nibbles, Sackler is focused solely on the sight in front of him. Your cunt - still glistening from a mixture of both yours and Adam’s cum - is on full display for him. It should come as no surprise to you after you have said your goodnights to Nibbles and covered the cage with your coat that when you turn back around to face the bed it’s only to find Sackler’s hand gliding up and down the length of his cock.

“You’re just as bad as Nibbles,” you chastise, now taking steps in the direction of the bed once more.

The muscles of Adam’s chest ripple beneath skin with the movement of his arm, and he finds that he can’t decide what part of your body he wants to look at. Every inch of you is gloriously bared to him and loves every goddamn bit of it from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes. “I know,” he replies, the words shaky.

The mattress dips when you kneel on the edge, leaning forward to rest your hands atop it so that you are now on all fours facing him. “You’re a pervert.”

Your voice has lowered an octave, taking on a husky edge that has Adam groaning, his cock throbbing in his hand whilst he presses his head further back into the pillow. The comment only seems to urge him to continue, and continue he does. The room fills with the obscene sound of his hand gliding up and down his cock, his fist smacking into his pelvis with each stroke downward. “Nnngh - fuck yeah I am.”

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

There is a giddy sense of anticipation as you slide into the passenger seat of the rental car one week following your conversation with Sackler. It had taken him all of two days to find a suitable caretaker for Nibbles, and once that had been squared away, he’d surprised you with a ticket to join him on his flight overseas. But it would seem that had not been the only surprise he’d had in store for you…

Last night as the sheen of sweat coating your still-joined bodies cooled, Sackler spilled the secret he could no longer hold in any longer.

“You know that eagle you wanted to go see?” His words are muffled by the soft mound of your breast whilst he nuzzles his face against it.

“An owl,” you correct. Though your eyes roll at his remark, a fond smile still graces your face as your fingers run through the damp strands of Adam’s hair.

“Right,” he replies, giving a quick, sharp bite to your soft, supple skin. “That’s what I said.”

Huffed laughter is expelled in immediate response to his reply which in turn causes him to do the same. “Anyfuckinway, work doesn’t start for another two days, so I have all day tomorrow to do whatever we want and I thought…”

Adam trails off, biting back the smile that’s threatened to form as he takes this opportunity to nuzzle your breasts again. “You just thought what,” you ask rather impatiently, wanting to know what exactly he’s got up his sleeve.

Sackler’s shoulders shrug, the movement jostling you slightly. He takes this opportunity to lavish your breasts with more kisses and bites, marking them up to his satisfaction until you’re imploring him to continue with his earlier remark. With a groan, he lifts himself away from you briefly in order to settle down beside you, his arms reaching for you to pull you closer to him once more.

“I thought that maybe we could go see that bird—”

“Owl,” you interject.

“—owl—I thought that maybe we could go see that owl. Gary or whatever the fuck his name was.”

“Murray,” you cry out in faux exasperation.

Adam laughs in that familiar, nasally way that he does. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m just giving you shit, Kid.”

His hand lifts to cup the back of your neck, drawing your lips down, down, down until they’re pressing to his. When your leg slings over his waist and you position yourself above him, exhaling a soft sigh as you sink down onto him, he knows that he’s done well—he knows that he’s made you happy.

Nearly three hours later, the sprawling urban landscape of London has given way to vivid green pastures and rolling hills littered with varying trees, and the skyscrapers and apartment buildings have been paired down to sleepy little villages. The soles of the boots that you wear sink down slightly in the grass of the sprawling weather lawn where the birds of prey preen and sun themselves. Nearby a Sea Eagle flaps its wings, displaying its rather impressive wingspan and dark brown coloration that contrasts with the bright white of its chest and head.

“Hooooly fuckin’ shit,” exclaims Sackler, edging closer to you, “look at the size of that thing!”

The sound of your laughter draws his attention away from the bird, causing him to swivel his head to look over at where you walk beside him. Suddenly, and without warning, a flutter of wings can be heard and out from the shadows of a nearby tree flies your entire reason for being here. Murray soars with the calm skies, flying just overhead, so close that it feels as if you can reach up and graze his little talons. The two of you turn in tandem to watch as the little owl flies directly to its handler to retrieve a tiny morsel of meat as a treat.

It all happens so quickly that Sackler barely has a moment to register that you’ve reached for him, now clasping his hand in your own. He shifts his hand in yours to lace your fingers together whilst Murray and his handler approach the two of you. Adam redirects his attention to where you stand beside him, fixated entirely on the small owl as it nears. You look happy, he thinks—perhaps the happiest you’ve been in quite some time and Sackler can’t help but feel the puff of pride that swells within his chest because he did this. He brought you here. He made your dream a reality. And that’s all he could ever want, to make you happy.

Your smile widens and the hand that isn’t holding onto Adam outstretches and it’s only then that he realizes he’s been so lost in his thoughts that he’s missed the entirety of the conversation unfolding before him. Delicately, you stroke your fingers through the feathers that cascade downward from Murray’s head, relishing with a small sound of delight as he tips his head back and closes his eyes as if to silently ask for more of the same.

“Can she hold him?”

Your head whips around quickly, eyes widening at Sackler’s request. “What?”

“Yeah,” he responds with a nonchalant shrug, shifting his gaze from you to the handler. “I thought, shit, we came all the way out here, you know? The least you can do is hold him.”

“Adam—” you begin in protest, only to be cut off by the handler.

“Actually, I can do you one better. “Put this on,” they say, holding up a spare gauntlet, “and then go stand about twenty meters away.”

Hesitantly, you reach out to take hold of the black leather gauntlet and slip it onto your arm, finding the spaces for your fingers to be a tad too large. When you look over to Adam you find that he’s smiling warmly at you.

“You heard ‘em, Kid,” he says, the smile stretching into that of a grin.

Any hesitancy you’d experienced previously flies straight out of the proverbial window as you do as you’re instructed with your arm outstretched in anticipation of an impending Murray. With the instruction of his handler, Murray pushes himself up and off of their gauntlet and once again cuts through the air with precision and speed, landing directly onto your gauntlet. It’s a sight to behold, Adam thinks, watching as your lips part and you exhale a gasp, careful not to be too loud lest you scare Murray as he settles onto your forearm. The tiny bird blinks expectantly up at you as if waiting for a treat or a pet, or any sort of reassurance that he’s done well. In the end, you gift him the latter, your fingers once again stroking the top of his head.

As you peer down at the small owl, his eyes now closed in contentment once more, you can’t help but think that this has truly been a wonderful day.

#Adam Sackler #Sackler #Sackler x Reader #Adam Sackler x Reader #han-not-solo

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fandomsonrequests · 3 years

Text

long overdue

fandom: stranger things

characters: steve harrington

reader: gn

word count: 1.6k+

summary: you and steve have been friends since childhood and neither of you could ignore what you felt for each other. but it took some demogorgons for you to realize that

a/n: AHHHHHHH i’m so sorry if this is late ;^; school is really kicking my ass rn ;^; i hope you enjoy!

notes: some swearing; demogorgons

tagged by: @hyposstuffingwell

It was late at night and the breeze was chilly but that didn’t stop you or Steve from sneaking out. He picked you up a couple of blocks away from your house and the two of you drove away to the quarry, belting out Queen’s songs from inside the car.

Now here you were, sitting on top of the car’s hood as you look over the waters, talking over the most mundane things to the crazy events that took place last year. The moon glinted off the soft ripples of the water, causing silver streaks to float through the surface. The smell of damp grass reached your nose and an orchestra of cicadas serenaded whoever was present.

“I still can’t believe that you actually said that to Carol in fifth grade,” You guffawed, holding your belly as more laughs escape you.

“Hey— you thought the same thing!” Steve argues. “Her hair really looked like a bird’s nest.”

“Yeah but you don’t tell her that..!” You retort with a playful shove to his shoulder.

The brunet rolled his eyes at that, brushing back his gorgeous locks. He sighs and leaned against the car’s window, leaving you to your own musings. He eyes the various stars that twinkled against the dark blanket of the sky. He never really told many people this, not even the Party or he’ll never hear the end of it, but he was one of those people who just stared up into the night sky. He liked to take in the sights and smells around him and just enjoy what he had.

His gaze rolls over to you beside him, seeing you lying comfortably against his car’s window. The warm quilt you had brought along was laid neatly on top of your lap, eyes closed as you basked in the ambiance of the night.

At that moment Steve wondered- why did it take him so long to see this? Why did it have to take him supernatural beings, a group of kids, and a secret Russian infiltration paired with a gigantic demonic creature to work up the courage to realize what he had felt for you?

You two were neighbors, practically growing up together. You two were an unstoppable force as children, just the two of you against the world. But once high school rolled around- things changed. It was like you two became two different people. Maybe it was his fault, considering he was blinded by the popularity that managed to find its way to him, but that shouldn’t have stopped him from talking to you.

The brunet shakes himself out of his trance when he feels your hand casually slip in his, lacing your fingers with his and giving his palm a gentle squeeze. He looks up to see you gaze at him softly, almost as if you were contemplating something. He sits up when you do, hands never leaving yours.

“You brought your guitar right?” You ask and he nods. “I wanna hear you sing.”

Steve flushes a brighter shade of red and looks away bashfully. You whine and latch onto his arm, begging him to serenade you. He chuckles at your pleads, his free hand reaching up to run his hand through his hair in nervousness. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to play for you- he’d do it in a heartbeat. But he was scared that he’d mess up and look stupid in front of you- or worse, sing something that revealed his true feelings for you.

Fuck it. He thinks to himself. “Fine,” He relents and you cheer quietly. “Jeez- no matter what age we are you always manage to rope me into doing what you want.”

“You can say no, y’know.” You chide and playfully punch his shoulder, watching as he fetches his guitar from his car.

“I know. But I need the practice anyway.” He hops back onto the hood, reaching up to the neck of the guitar to tune it.

You watch fondly as he did so, memories of hanging out in his room and watching him play come flooding back to you. The sad, heavy wave of nostalgia washes over you at the memories, but you push that aside. You can recreate them again, right here and now.

Steve releases a nervous exhale and you rest a hand of comfort to his shoulder. You give him an encouraging smile, one that he reciprocates with gratitude, and starts to play. His fingers pluck at the strings gently- just some random notes to get the feel of it. He plays a jumble of notes, pretending to be in one of those rock bands and you laugh at his antics. Eventually, he stops messing around and the notes morph into something familiar- a song you heard on the radio many times.

“We’re talking away, I don't know what I'm to say. I'll say it anyway…” He sings softly.

You perked up when you recognized this iconic song. As he played into the night, you realized that it sounded so different when played this way- more romantic even. And you couldn’t help but feel a warmth bloom in your chest at the sight in front of you. Steve looked so lost in the music as he strummed away, singing along with the melody. He always had a talent for music, you just wish he recognized it.

“Take on me, take me on,” Steve looks up to you, shyly meeting your gaze. “I’ll be gone, in a day or two…”

He strums the rest of the chords, repeating it a couple of times before closing the song and letting the last notes echo into the air. It’s quiet for a while, just the two of you staring at each other as you let the atmosphere settle. Steve poured his heart out into the song and poured a little of what he thinks he feels for you so that you’d know how much you mean to him.

When the tension became unbearable, you spoke up. “I missed you, Steve.” You tell him softly.

“I missed you too, ______,” He replies with a sigh. He reached out to take your hand in his, thumb running over the back of it. “Look… I’m sorry for what happened back in high school… I was a jerk. Like- a jerk-jerk, the kind of jerk you want to just punch ‘cos he’s so self-absorbed and pathetic.”

You scoot over to him, gently taking the guitar and placing it back into the car. When you return, you reach up to cup his face, making the brunet turn to you. At your touch, his skin heats up with shame and he avoids your gaze. He couldn’t bear to look at you— it would just remind him of how neglectful he was as a friend.

His warm brown eyes are glassy with a pang of deep-seated guilt as he stared down at his lap. Your heart clenches at this. You knew that it was kind of his fault- he did turn you away when he became “King of Hawkins High,” but part of it was your fault too. You were so angry at him that you shunned him away whenever he tried approaching you- it was easier for you that way. Because at least, when you acted cold, the heartbreak you felt would be less painful than what it would have initially been.

“I’m not going to lie, you were that kind of a jerk,” You chuckle, thumb brushing the space under his eyes. “But it was my fault too… I gave you the cold shoulder and turned you away. And… I’m sorry for that- I should have listened to you when you tried to explain yourself…”

Steve let out some sort of amused huff. “...I guess we both fucked up big time huh?” His eyes drop down to your lips before flickering back up to your face where he finally met your gentle gaze. He dared to lean forward, pressing his forehead against yours while his trembling hands reached up to cup both your cheeks.

“What if… what if I kissed you right now?” He asks boldly, impulsively.

Your heartbeat speeds up at the question. You had already harbored feelings for your friend back then. Even though circumstances weren’t all that great before, that tiny vulnerable part you had for him never left. And with what happened with the Demogorgons, Billy, the Russians chasing after you (all that shared trauma as Murray Bauman puts it) it had only festered into what you have now.

“Here’s a better question,” You whisper. “What’s stopping you from doing so?”

Steve’s breath hitched when you actually gave him permission to kiss him. He blinks rapidly, almost as if making sure he wasn’t dreaming, before steeling his nerves and leaning forward to press his lips tentatively against yours.

The kiss was shy and hesitant at first. It was only when the both of you pulled away from each other did you two realize that you wanted something more. As your lips slot against his again, you couldn’t help but lean further into him, arms wrapping around his shoulders as your lips moved against his. Steve on the other hand wrapped an arm around your waist as the other came to cradle the back of your head, holding you as if you’d disappear any moment.

The kiss wasn’t sloppy or desperate- but it was passionate and full of unsaid emotions that could be better off expressed without the use of words. You pull your head away when the call for air was too great but made no move to shift out of Steve’s hold. You couldn’t help but smile at what had happened, the warmth in your chest growing and spreading throughout your whole body.

“That, that was long overdue.” You hum, eliciting a soft chuckle from Steve.

“Well,” He muses and tucks a stray hair behind your ear, kissing your forehead after. “Better late than never.”

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagines #fandomsonrequests

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