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laurenairay · 3 months

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hopeless hearts just passing through - J. Hughes

This my entry for @wyattjohnston’s low-key lovefest 2k24 prompt list challenge. I chose “stop making promises you aren’t going to keep” from the angst list and “you’re the only person I wanted to see tonight” from the fluff list.

Summary: Jack had messed up, again. Can he make it up to you this time, or is it too late?

Words: 2.9k

Warnings: light angst, Jack being a dumbass, some bad language, fluff

Title from: I was made for loving you, by Tori Kelly

Thursday 28th December

[7.00pm] You’ve reached Jack. I’m obviously not here right now so leave me a message after the beep.

[7.25pm] You’ve reached Jack. I’m obviously not here right now so leave me a message after the beep.

[8.00pm] You’ve reached Jack. I’m obviously not here right now so leave me a message after the beep.

“Hey Jack, guess you’ve forgotten our call. Again. By now you probably have other plans tonight? Just… please give me a call when you listen to this.”

Friday 29th December

Morning came without a phone call. You didn’t know whether you were surprised or not, if you were being honest – this wasn’t the first time he’d forgotten to call you while on the road like he promised he would. This time though it felt different. Maybe it was because the two of you had spent a wonderful happy Hannukah & Christmas together only days before that hurt you the most. Maybe it was just because you believed Jack when he promised. Either way, this time you couldn’t let it go – it was a matter of principle.

You made it through your entire morning routine, getting washed and dressed for work, eating breakfast, packing your lunch into your work bag, before your phone started to ring. Jack. You glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall, wincing as you slipped into your shoes and grabbed your hooded coat, bag and keys on the way out the door. You weren’t going to be late, not for him.

“I’m on my way to work, I really can’t talk right now.”

You answered bluntly, pinning your phone between your shoulder and your ear as you put on your coat the moment you stepped into the elevator.

“I am so sorry baby.”

Really?

“That’s really all you have to say?” you snapped, picking your work bag up off the floor now that you’d zipped up your coat.

“What else can I say?”

You were stunned for a moment, lips parting. The nerve of this guy.

“Oh I don’t know, how about what you’re actually sorry for?” you said, the sarcasm in your voice barely hiding your anger.

You heard him huff out a breath, perfectly in time with the elevator doors opening on the ground floor of your apartment building.

“I’m sorry I missed our call. I know I promised to call you but I just totally forgot. The guys were all excited about a mario kart tournament and I really wanted Luke to finally get in on the action!”

“Please don’t blame your brother for your mistakes.”

Jack inhaled sharply over the phone. You could almost picture his mouth opening and closing as he tried to think of something to say, just as he usually did in person, so you just waited for him to speak as you trudged down the street to your usual bus stop.

“I’m sorry. For blaming Luke and for upsetting you. It won’t happen again, baby, I promise.”

Yeah, okay. As if that was the first time he’d said that.

“Stop making promises you aren’t going to keep,” you said sharply.

Jack was silent for a moment or two.

“What do you mean?”

His voice sounded so small, so quiet, like he finalised realised the depth of how badly he’d screwed up. Good.

“You know what I mean, Jack. I’m not asking for the world – I know your team will always be priority. I’m just getting sick of never even crossing your mind at all. Even a text to say a mario kart tournament had started last minute would’ve been better than being fucking ghosted by my own boyfriend,” you groaned.

Thankfully there was no-one else at the bus stop to hear your cursing.

“Baby, please, I can do better. I will do better.”

He was clearly panicking, voice full of desperation with whatever he was reading from your own voice. But you just sighed, not really sure what to say because this wasn’t the first time so would it really be the last? Could you really believe him?

Before you could think of an answer to his pleading, your bus came into view as it turned the corner onto your road. Clearly this was a sign.

“I have to go, my bus is here,” you said softly.

“No baby, wait please, I-”

You ended the call without letting him finish, already feeling a headache coming on as the anger washed out of you. This was the last thing you needed after the heartache of last night – his panicked pleading. It wouldn’t help his case when he was so far away, not when you were this frustrated with him. The best thing for you to do, rather than tumbling into saying something you would regret, would be to give yourself some space, some breathing room.

Something that Jack clearly didn’t agree with as he immediately called your phone again.

Thankfully the bus pulled up right at that moment, so you felt justified in ignoring him, slipping your phone into your pocket as you flashed the driver your bus pass, focusing on finding a seat for your commute.

It was all you could do to keep your face neutral, trying to ignore the overwhelmed tears stinging at your eyes as your phone continued to buzz for most of your journey.

As you suspected, your morning at work was terrible. Not only did your mild headache turn into a fully formed one, but you were clearly giving off ‘leave me alone’ vibes because your colleagues steered clear, leaving you to stew in your emotions in peace. Not even a walk outside during your lunch break did any good – you still had a headache, the food you packed was so-so, and you had three emails to deal with that were really not your problem.

Didn’t people know that sending emails between Christmas and New Year was pointless?

“Hey, you’ve got a delivery.”

You jerked your head up from your computer to see your office receptionist standing next to you with a gigantic bouquet of flowers – white and pink roses, to be precise, around three dozen. What the hell?

“Uh, thanks,” you murmured, forcing a quick smile as she passed the bouquet over.

You tried desperately to ignore the whispers and stares around you as you spotted a card. Really you knew there was only one person who would send you flowers, but you still opened the small envelope with shaking hands anyway.

‘I’m sorry. Jack xx’

A simple message but it still made your heart ache.

That, and it made your lingering headache pound more. This was so typical Jack, wanting to do some sort of grand gesture which in technicality was very sweet but also so not what you needed right now. You didn’t need the reminder that things were shaky between you two. You didn’t need the stares and attention from your colleagues, all of them now knowing that something was wrong from your reaction. And you didn’t need to carry the bouquet home on the bus with you, the unresolved tension between you and Jack hanging over you like an axe.

Or, well, like a bouquet of 36 flowers, bigger than your head.

“Oh honey, what did he do?”

You winced at the pitying voice of your colleague, smiling sadly as you shook your head.

“I’d really rather not talk about it,” you said softly.

She nodded, smiling sadly back.

“Well if you change your mind, message me and we’ll go for coffee,” she said, voice quiet, trying to give you a modicum of privacy.

You just nodded, thanking her quietly in response, and she left with a squeeze of your shoulder. She meant well, you knew she did, and hopefully this interaction would stop anyone else (especially those who loved to stir drama) from approaching you too.

It was all you could do to put the flowers on the side of your desk, trying to ignore everything they represented. You had work to do – thinking about Jack right now was not going to do you any good.

When your phone buzzed a couple of hours later though, you still read the messages that Jack sent, one after another coming in.

[3.22pm]

From: Jack I got an email saying the flowers had been delivered. I chose white and pink roses to symbolise how much I love you and my loyalty and how sorry I am. I know that I messed up and I understand why you’re upset with me. But please give me a second chance?

He'd looked up flower symbolism. He specifically chose white and pink roses because of their meaning. What were you supposed to do with something so romantic when you were this frustrated with him?

Fuck.

With a sigh you pulled up the Devils schedule on your phone, confirming the date in your mind that he’d be back from his roadtrip. He was still in Ottawa today and then Boston tomorrow…but he would be back on New Year’s Eve. You could work with that.

[3.35pm]

To: Jack The flowers are beautiful. Thank you. I am still upset with you, but I will hear you out. If you want to talk, come to mine on NYE. I have no plans.

The two of you hadn’t discussed any parties or plans at all for New Year’s Eve, even though you had assumed Jack would’ve dragged you somewhere in the end. But this was better. You needed time alone with him because there was no way you could face him for the first time after all this while surrounded by other people. Putting the ball in his court was the only way to keep your sanity at this point.

With another sigh you put your phone down, raking a hand through your hair as your eyes lingered on the colourful blooms on your desk. They really were beautiful.

You weren’t surprised when it took mere minutes before your phone buzzed again.

[3.37pm]

From: Jack I’ll be there. I promise.

Saturday 30th December

[11.15pm]

To: Jack Sorry about the loss. You’ll get the Bruins next time.

[11.20pm]

From: Jack Thanks ❤️

Sunday 31st December

You hadn’t spoken to Jack since texting him after yesterday’s defeat. Mostly because you knew he was travelling, but also because you knew that him coming over to yours tonight was when you really needed to speak.

For some reason you were a little nervous. You didn’t know what it was really that had you furiously cleaning your apartment, but those fizzing bubbles ran all through your body the whole day. It didn’t help that you had no idea what time Jack would come over. Assuming he was still coming over, that was. No, he had promised, and he knew how you felt about promises. At least you hoped he had learned his lesson on how you felt because you weren’t sure of how much more you could take.

Tonight had to be your deciding factor on protecting your heart, you knew that much.

When you’d scrubbed and rearranged and hoovered all that you could, you showered and dressed up in a comfortable black velvet tea dress, curled your hair and put on a little make-up before putting some wine in the fridge to chill. It was New Year’s Eve after all, and you knew that if Jack didn’t turn up by 9pm, your friends had insisted that you go over to theirs to celebrate the new year together. It felt good to know that you had a safety net because if Jack didn’t show tonight? You were done. And you knew you’d need the support of your friends to get you through.

Fuck.

You really hoped he showed up.

When it got to 6pm, you put some soft music on, hoping to drown out the silence of your apartment, feeling like an idiot for just sitting around waiting for him. What if he didn’t show up? What if he let you down again? What if this was the end of your relationship? What if…

Bzzzzz

The buzzer for your apartment crashed through your swirling thoughts and you quickly jumped to your feet, cheeks heating with how ridiculous you felt.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me. Can you let me up?”

Jack. He came.

You didn’t answer, just pressed the button to let him in, trying to keep yourself calm as you paced to and forth while you waited for him to take the elevator up to your apartment. In all reality it didn’t take long, but after the last few days it felt like a lifetime.

“Hey.”

You huffed out a laugh at your awkward greetings, stepping aside to let him in.

“Thanks, uh, for inviting me over,” Jack said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Wasn’t sure what time you would come. Or what you were doing tonight,” you murmured, shutting the door behind him.

Jack groaned, walking further into your apartment, you following silently. “I should’ve texted. Fuck, I should’ve told you exactly what time I was coming over, but I got so caught up trying to find the right thing to wear and dropping Luke off early at Nico’s and…”

Oh bless his heart. He was going straight into it then.

His rant trailed off as you pressed a finger to his lips, responding to your amused smile with a shy one of his own.

“You look great, Jack – you always do,” you said simply, dropping your hand back to your side, “But I actually meant if you had other plans around this like parties you were going to go to.”

Jack immediately shook his head, face more serious than you’d ever seen it.

“You’re the only person I wanted to see tonight,” he said firmly.

Oh fuck. Your breath hitched in your throat at his words, Jack taking the chance to hold both of your hands.

“I messed up. I know I messed up. I haven’t been treating you with the respect you deserve and missing even one call with you without letting you know why is unacceptable…”

Wow. This was far more than you had ever expected from him, and your heart ached with the emotion he was putting into his thoughts. Maybe he’d rehearsed this with Luke, maybe he was winging it, but you could tell in his eyes that he meant every word. He was right – you hadn’t been respected like you deserve. Could he really turn himself around though?

“…I really am sorry, baby. I love you so much and I can’t bear the thought of losing you. Please, will you forgive me?”

The confidence in his voice wavered a little, voice cracking with the emotion of his words, and you felt a pang radiate through your chest. You’d never seen him look so vulnerable before. Maybe you needed to see it.

As you formed your thoughts, you kept your hands in his, squeezing to let him know you were processing so he didn’t panic or shut down. That was the last thing you wanted or needed. This was a lot, and it was important that you said what you really meant.

“I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting to dive straight into this.”

Jack winced slightly, lips parting, but you shook your head. No, it was your turn now.

“You really hurt me, Jack. I appreciate that you understand that, but it still doesn’t change the fact that I was hurt. I don’t ask for much and you couldn’t even give me the bare minimum,” you started.

The whimper that escaped from his throat just about broke your heart, but you barrelled on.

“I deserve more. I deserve better. I deserve respect, you’re right. I just…I really hope you’re the one that can give that to me,” you said softly.

As your words sunk in, a hopeful smile quickly spread across his face.

“I get a second chance?” he grinned, making you huff out a laugh.

“Yeah, Jack, you do. But you won’t get a third. I don’t like feeling like I don’t matter and you can’t do that again,” you said, hoping he understood how serious you were.

Jack nodded, squeezing your hands.

“I won’t let you down, baby. I almost lost you once by being a careless asshole, I won’t lose you again,” he said, smiling.

Oh how that smile gave you butterflies.

“I love you,” he said again.

It didn’t matter how long you’d been together or how many times he said it – hearing those words fall from his lips made your heart race every single time.

“I love you too,” you said, finally smiling back.

Jack whooped, throwing his head back in celebration, making you burst out in laughter, even more so as he dropped your hands to wrap his arms around your waist, picking you up to spin around in a circle. Ridiculous, ridiculous man.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

You just clutched at his shoulders as he murmured the words over and over again in your ear, hoping that this time, his words would be true.

#my writing #jack hughes fic #lowkey lovefest 2k24 #jack hughes fanfic #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #hockey imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl imagine

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cameronspecial · 4 months

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Three Clues And One Announcement

Pairing: Dad!Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Troubles Getting Pregnant

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

A/N: Requested by @m4eveee.

Masterlist

Everyone knew about their difficulties with trying to conceive a child. They walk on eggshells when mentioning anything related to pregnancy or babies around the spouses. It is rare that the couple has both sides of the family and all their friends over. Their house isn’t exactly spacious enough to have everyone in the same place, so the get-together is held in the backyard. Drew is on the grill while Y/N is getting everyone drinks. “Hmm, this is good. Is there any alcohol in this?” Madelyn asks, taking a sip from the drink just handed to her. Y/N shakes her head, “No, none of the drinks have alcohol today. We haven’t been able to go to the store.” This should’ve been the first clue of the news the hosts were about to expose.

Madison and JD both surround the barbecue with Drew. “You aren’t doing it right,” Madison critiques, watching Drew slip the food on the grill. He looks over at her with a shrug, “Actually, I think I’m doing it right.” JD laughs at the twos bickering. “Yo, what are you doing tomorrow? Do you and Y/N want to come over to play Mario Kart?” JD asks. Drew has to decline the offer, “I’m sorry. Y/N has a doctor's appointment tomorrow.” “If it’s Y/N’s appointment, why can’t you go?” Madison quizzes with a raised eyebrow. Drew’s mouth slacks open, “Uhh, well… I’m her husband and I want to provide her with moral support.” It was a lie. While the couple would sometimes go to appointments with each other, it was only on the basis that they had errands to complete together after. This is the second clue to the announcement that is soon to come.

Y/N enters the kitchen to find Brooke at the kitchen counter, looking at the magazines on display. Brooke holds up one specific magazine, “Hey, Y/N/N. Why do you have a pregnancy magazine?” Oops, Y/N should’ve put that one away. To not reveal their secrets, Y/N thinks quickly on her feet. “Ummm, I have suddenly become a kleptomaniac and I stole it from the doctor’s office. I have to go talk to your brother,” Y/N excuses herself to find Drew, leaving behind a confused sister-in-law. This is the third and last clue that gets them to move up the timeline of the party.

After a whispered conversation about not being able to keep their news a secret for very long, Drew and Y/N call their guests' attention to them. Drew wraps his arms around his wife's waist and rests his hands on Y/N’s stomach. This brings together the puzzle pieces for Mackayla, who has been keeping track of all of the clues. She tries to hide her excitement, so her siblings can tell the news themselves. Y/N smiles up at Drew with a small nod. “Okay, so you guys might be wondering why we invited you all here together,” Drew begins and he is about to continue, but Y/N can’t contain her eagerness. She bounces on the ball of her feet, “I’m pregnant.” Mackayla jumps to her feet and points at the couple. “I knew it!” Drew and Y/N laugh at her reaction and welcome the guests who come in for a hug. Logan claps his brother on his back, “Congratulations, I know you guys have been trying for a while. If you need a babysitter, you know who to call.” “Thanks. Although, I don’t know if I trust you babysitting my kid. All the heartbreak was worth it if it leads up to this moment,” Drew confesses. Y/N looks over at Drew with a massive grin as she talks to his mom and he is so glad that he, hopefully, won’t need to be wiping hurt tears anymore while she clutches a negative pregnancy test.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @victory-in-the-llama

#daddy drew #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey x y/n #dad!drew #dad!drew starkey #drew starkey fic #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey one shot

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redtsundere-writes · 6 months

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Out Of My League | Heartsteel Kayn / Rhaast

Heartsteel Kayn / Rhaast x f!reader

Part 1: Facecheck.

Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.

Sypnosis: A chronically online girl doesn´t know that her Discord friend may be someone she already knows.

Contents: Modern AU, High school AU, a lot of bad jokes and meme references. No warnings.

Word count: 2023 (omg this year)

Author's Note: So... this gremlin's birthday was yesterday and since he has been on my mind lately. I decided to write him a fic cause why not?

Thanks to @mclovin1803 for helping me with proofreading and picking a title. (If this is out of charcater, blame him)

You were the exact definition of an introvert. You weren't good at talking to people you didn't know, your social battery doesn't last long, and you get excited when your friends cancel plans at the last minute. You like your loneliness and spending the afternoon playing video games and your guitar.

As an introvert, you didn't have many friends aside from a few classmates and some family members you were close with. Luckily, you had several friends on Discord. Among them was someone by the username of Rhaast. You didn't chat with him often because he wasn't as chronically online as you were, but he knew you were always down to play League of Legends with him.

One night while you were comfortably playing the new Super Mario Wonder on the switch, you received a message from Rhaast.

@Rhaast: League?

It had been two weeks since you had last played together, so you put the Switch aside and accepted. You opened League and put your headphones on to hop on the call with your friend.

"Hello there," you greeted him like Obi Wan as you waited for Rhaast to enter the game. He laughed at the reference. He had a deep, kinda seductive voice. You didn't know for sure if he was pretending or if he really talked like that.

"How have you been?," you asked while looking for your nightly playlist on Spotify to set the mood.

"Great. Yesterday I went out with a girl and today I broke up with her." You rolled your eyes at the comment. You knew Rhaast was quite the heartbreaker for discarding women like they were underwear. Personally, you didn't like that about your friend.

"And now why did you break up with this one,?" you asked as you started the game.

"I only went out with her once and she was already bugging me. My phone kept ringing because of her, so I blocked her," Rhaast answered with a chuckle. “Thank God I'll never date this asshole,” you thought.

"I wish there were more girls like you. You wait for me to send you a message and you are always down to play with me." He said while locking in Zed as his champion while you locked in Qiyana.

"I’m always down to play with you because I don't have any friends, not because I like you." You kamikazed by words.

"Damn, and I thought you had a crush for me," Rhaast joked. "Come to think of it, you never tell me anything about your love life," He suggested so he could hear some gossip.

"I haven't told you because I don't have any," you said, pretending to cry. Rhaast laughed at your foolish performance.

"Come on, you must have at least a crush or something," he insisted curiously as the game began. There was no one you liked... but someone caught your eye.

You felt like a fool for getting nervous every time you saw Kayn and his group of friends walk past you in the hallways. Kayn was a popular kid from a higher grade. He was good at sports, had good grades, was a member of an upcoming band, and was always surrounded by friends, while you were the complete opposite. You knew you shouldn't be nervous seeing him around because there was no chance that he would have the slightest interest in you. The majority of girls in your class drooled over him, so he was free to choose whoever he wanted. Why would he choose you?

Also, you had no good reason to go over and talk to him. The only chance you had, you blew it. You still cringe at yourself at night when you remember that moment. In your first days of high school, you had no friends and you just started learning to play guitar. When you tried to leave the music room that day, you ran into a tall boy with pink hair, perfect black eyebrows that indicated the true color of his hair, piercings decorating his ears, a pointy nose and a magnificent athletic body. Everything about him could catch anyone's attention but his most striking feature was his beautiful eyes with heterochromia, his left eye was green and the right; red. You were a moth and he was an RGB lightbulb that demanded your attention.

You stood paralyzed infront of him. You clutched your music sheet notebook to your chest in nervousness. He was way too attractive and you didn't know how to feel about it. You tried to greet him but only stutters came out of your mouth. It was true that you weren't good at starting conversations but you had never been at a loss for words.

"Can you move? I want to get in," he asked while looking at you as if you were an inferior being.

"Ah... Yes-s, I'm s-sorry." You couldn't help your stutter as you stepped aside so he could enter the room. The Adonis didn't say anything else, but your eyes were still glued on him. The boy saw you watching him without shame.

"Can I help you with something?" He asked directly. You quickly shook your head and ran out of the room. “You are so stupid, you made yourself look like you have never seen a man!” You thought embarrassed as you felt your face getting hot. This was definitely your canon event.

One day, Rhaast sent you an ad. Riot was hosting a promotional convention for players at the capital at the end of the month.

@Rhaast: You goin'?

You: Maybe, sounds good.

@Rhaast: Let me know if you goin'.

You: Are you?

@Rhaast: If you go, I'll go.

You: K.

Thus the days passed until the day of the event arrived. You got ready with your best clothes: A K/DA sweatshirt, freshly washed pants, and the least dirty sneakers you had. You left your apartment nervously to finally touch some grass and meet your friend in real life. After a tedious subway ride, you arrived at the convention center where the event was taking place.

You: I'm here. Where are you?

@Rhaast: Wait for me at the entrance. I'm almost there.

You saw that there were several people waiting for their respective friends at the entrance, so you decided to stay in that area. You waited patiently while playing on your phone until you heard some girls next to you get excited.

"Look, it's Kayn, he looks so good!" They whisper to each other. You looked up quickly when you heard that name and, sure enough, the Adonis was there. “What is Kayn doing here?!” you thought as you tried to hide behind your phone as if you pretended he wasn't there, but your eyes traveled quickly between the screen and him. He was wearing a black crop with a jacket on top, tight pants and silver chains on his neck, fingers and waist. “Oh no, he's hot!” You thought nervously, wanting to run away. Your heart wasn't taking it.

You felt envious when the girls next to you didn't hesitate to approach him. Seeing the confidence they had to greet and talk to him, you felt that they had already known each other before. “I wish I could do that,” you thought.

"I didn't know you played League." One of the girls commented.

"I don´t play much," Kayn answered without taking much notice. Looking cool as heck.

"Are you here alone?" The other girl asked.

"Well, I'm meeting with a friend. I'll call her, " he said while searching for his friend's contact on his phone.

*Incoming call from Rhaast*

Out of nowhere, your phone started ringing from an incoming call on Discord. It was Rhaast. “No way,” you thought as you looked at Kayn and your cell phone simultaneously. “No, this must be a coincidence” you thought before answering.

"I'm here, where are you?" Your knees felt weak as Kayn spoke the words he was hearing over the phone. “Kayn is Rhaast?!” you thought in disbelief.

Kayn quickly found you and your eyes met. The last time that happened was a year ago. You knew Rhaast for over two years. That meant that Kayn, the cutest boy in school, had heard your horrible jokes, your fangirl screams when you saw Faker at almost every World Cup, and your burps for two years. You wanted the earth to swallow you whole at that moment.

"Oh, there she is. See ya," he hung up the call and said goodbye to his friends. He approached you while you were dying internally. You were lucky a wall was holding you up because you were sure you were going to pass out at any moment. “Breathe, maybe he doesn't remember you,” you thought.

"Hey! Why didn't you tell me we went to the same school, snake girl?" he joked. You covered your face in shame with your hands. “He does remember!” You thought, defeated. You still didn't believe that Kayn was still talking to you.

"Shut up, Rhaast… I mean, Kayn." You said, pulling your face out of its hiding spot. Kayn smiled, looking at your blushing cheeks.

"So you know me," he said confidently.

"How can I not know you? My classmates can't stop talking about you," you said defensively.

"I don't mean that," he said as he brought his face closer to yours. You backed up as far as the wall would allow you.

"Just look at you, you're crazy for me." He mocked in a flirting way. You couldn't help but to blush once again.

He was right, not only did he caught your eye, you liked him. You liked him more than you thought. Not because he was the popular Kayn, who is in a band and all the girls fight over him, but because he was also Rhaast. The one guy who laughed at your horrible jokes, the one who didn't criticize you every time you screamed when you saw Faker and burped when you did to match your energy.

"Ha! Says the guy that I always carry,” you mocked him back. Kayn laughed. That laugh that made you feel better in the small corner of your room.

"That's my girl!" He said before taking your hand. You blushed at the unexpectedly intimate act. His hand gently squeezed yours to guide you to the convention entrance.

You spent the whole afternoon chatting and spending all your money on merchandise. You got to know Kayn better than you ever thought. He was a little bit blunt, but nicer than you pictured. It was like you were seeing the other side of Rhaast. Kayn also got to know you on another level when you started to feel comfortable around him. You were a girl with whom he could see himself talking for many hours everyday without getting bored, something he had not felt with anyone else.

You and Kayn said goodbye to a wonderful day together. Both felt their hearts beating like crazy for each other. You had spent the entire day together but you still missed each other once you parted ways. You arrived home and then threw yourself on the bed to start screaming about the exciting day you just had. You had finally talked to Kayn and he seemed to like you. And boy did he like you...

The next day, another school day had ended, so you decided to go to the music room. On your way, you saw Kayn and his friends heading towards the exit. Finally, you got the courage to do something you've always wanted to do.

"Hey, Kayn!" You called him from your place. He turned around to see you among the other students passing by in the hallway.

"Wanna play later?" You asked, blushing lightly for attracting his attention. His friends began to tease him that a girl was talking to him that way, but he didn't care. Kayn smiled as he saw you standing there, blushing but determined.

"You know I do!" He said before turning around and getting back with his friends. You smiled. Maybe he wouldn't have chosen you before, but now you had a chance.

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Masterlist.

#kayn #heartsteel #heartsteel kayn #league of legends #fluff #fanfiction #fic #rhaast #fanfic #modern au #high school #high school au #kayn league of legends #zed #x reader #kayn x reader #kayn lol #shieda kayn

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peachhcs · 3 months

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being oblivious | the wonder years

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

the guys find out will knows samy & demand to meet her!

word count: 1.9k

i’m writing this as if they were 16 so that’s why the dialogue might be kind of silly, but anyways. i imagine them being very fan girly about meeting samy & also excited so here’s their origin story :) p.s. i’d love any prompts or ideas for little blurbs or imagines for them so if you have any send them my way :)

au masterlist

the boys agreed to a slow and lazy sunday with the first day of ntdp practice tomorrow and no one wanted to be too bent out of shape. drew and aram's voices were the only ones filling the living room as they argued over mario kart together while everyone else just tuned them out. will was splayed across one of the chairs mindlessly scrolling through his phone when someone nudged his leg.

the blonde's gaze found ryan's whose eyes were wide with disbelief. "what?" will mumbled as ryan flipped his phone so his friend could see what made him look so surprised.

his screen was a photo of will and samy hughes standing next to one another at the beach with wide smiles. not understanding ryan's shock, will raised his eyebrow in confusion.

"you know samy hughes?" ryan finally got out. his words caught the attention of the rest of the guys sitting around them. their heads spun in will and ryan's direction, waiting for a response.

"uh..yeah? you guys didn't know that?" will wondered, gazing at everyone else.

"no? how do you know her? do you know luke, jack, and quinn too?" ryan continued, excitement now in his voice.

"we're family friends. we grew up together. i grew up skating with her brothers," will had to laugh. he for sure thought it was common knowledge that their families were close and spent every summer together since they were babies.

"you're lying," ryan countered, disbelief on all of his features.

"no, i'm not. you see the picture. that's obviously me," the blonde chuckled while the rest of the guys started crowding around to see the other pictures ryan had dug up from mrs. smith's facebook account.

"why on earth would you keep this information from us?" aram muttered.

"i didn't know you guys didn't know. i dunno. it's not that big of a deal," will shrugged some, falling back into his chair.

"not a big deal? are you serious? you're family friends with some of the best hockey players in this country," ryan exasperated.

this was quite amusing to will. sure, he knew how popular the hughes family was, but it never really mattered to him and he never really thought about it until now. he's always just hung out with them every summer and that was so normal for will that he didn't realize it was a big deal to other people.

"wait, ann arbor is like..thirty minutes from here. do you think we'll ever run into samy?" drew exclaimed after the realization. a few of the other guy's faces lit up too and they all looked to will for an answer.

"uh..i don't know? maybe?" the boy shrugged. he didn't really know what samy did during the school year besides go to school and play soccer.

"wait. do you think we can meet her because you know her?" ryan's head popped back up.

"erm..i don't know. maybe?" will mumbled.

"what do you mean maybe?" gabe raised his eyebrow and suddenly will felt like some teacher with kids surrounding him waiting for answers like the guys were surrounding him with wide eyes at the idea of meeting samy hughes.

"i mean..we're close, but not that close. she hung around with grace a lot, so i don't really know how she'd feel about a bunch of guys wanting to hang out with her," will shrugged again.

"dude, you know samy hughes and grew up with her and you're telling us she doesn't wanna hang out with you?" aram deadpanned.

the blonde rolled his eyes and huffed out a sigh, “okay, i’ll ask, chill out.” the guys grinned, pumping their fists at the idea of meeting samy.

will immediately got a response after sending a brief text samy’s way. she was very much up to the idea and agreed to talk to her mom about letting them drive down to ann arbor for the day. after some more final arrangements, will, gabe, ryan, drew, and aram were all stuffed into a car together driving the 30 minutes to samy’s house.

the entire car was filled with excitement and chatter as they discussed samy and her brothers. will just kept to himself, still thinking how amusing all of this was and how much these guys were simping over samy.

they rolled into the driveway and will spun around in the driver’s seat, “just don’t be too weird, okay? don’t make her uncomfortable.”

“roger that, smitty,” ryan teased making everyone snicker but will. the five boys clamored out of the car and followed their friend up to the front porch, letting will do the honors of knocking.

some footsteps could be heard until the front door swung open and a very smiley samy stood before the five boys. all of them but will suddenly became shy under the girl’s bright smile. “will!” the girl exclaimed and immediately pulled the blonde into a tight hug.

“hey hughesy,” will chuckled as he squeezed her back. the two embracing missed the looks that came from will’s friends as they watched the interaction unfold.

“come on in. jeez, i can’t believe you’re gonna be in michigan for the next two years with me,” samy continued talking as she led everyone into the foyer.

“i bet you wish it was grace instead,” the blonde teased making samy roll her eyes. “whatever. it’s so cool to meet some of you guys. i guess you already know who i am,” the brunette chuckled as she turned her attention to will’s friends who still stood silently and awkwardly behind them.

“it’s nice to meet you. i’m ryan, that’s gabe, drew, and aram. we kind of begged smitty to meet you,” ryan spoke up, sticking his hand out. samy giggled as she happily shook ryan’s hand.

“wow, i’ve never had fans before. it’s always been my brothers,” the girl smiled.

“don’t let the ten year old girls hear you say that,” will mumbled. samy flushed before ignoring his comment.

“is that will?” a new voice came into the mix. the boys looked up and saw mrs. hughes walking towards them with a large smile on her face. the older woman tugged her arms around will’s frame, squeezing the boy tightly much like samy did.

“hey mama el, it’s good to see you again. thanks for letting us come over,” will chuckled.

“of course, anytime. you know you’re always welcome here now that you live 30 minutes away. i know i’ll be expecting a lot of visits from you. all of you, actually. our home is your home. my boys have all been through the dev program, so we know what it’s like,” ellen smiled towards the other guys.

“i’m sure that’s the only reason why they came over is to see quinn, jack, and luke’s baby photos,” samy giggled in a teasing tone. some of their faces flushed in response.

“come on, i’ll show you guys around,” the girl started further into the house leaving the boys no other option but to follow her.

after the extensive grand tour of the hughes family home, the six sat around the deck enjoying the remaining bits of summer weather. “what are you guys most excited about for the dev program?” samy wondered, trying to get to know everyone else some more.

“probably just getting to hang with these guys all the time. we’ve all gotten pretty close already,” aram chuckled as he reached over to tussle up drew’s hair. the other boy squirmed away, quickly fixing his hair.

“new people, new place, new coaches. lots of things to start learning,” ryan added in.

“is it weird being away from home? my brothers never had to go far since we already lived here when they all did it,” samy wondered and most of the guys nodded.

“for sure, but it’ll be a good experience, you know?” ryan said and samy nodded.

“well, at least you guys have one more friendly face around here. you’re all welcome to come to my soccer games this season too,” the girl quickly beamed.

“right, i forgot you switched sides,” drew said.

“if you guys ever play with her, you better hope she’s on your team,” will cut in making samy flush and the other guys chuckled.

“uh oh, she better than you at soccer?” gabe snickered, pushing at will’s shoulder.

“she’s better at me in everything,” will nodded.

“remember that time i scored 3 goals on you and luke on the ice? ugh, i still think about that day and how you two had to pay me each $10,” samy laughed.

“don’t remind me. you cheated anyway,” the blonde crossed his arms, eyeing the girl beside him.

“i did not! you guys were just mad a girl was better than you at your own sport,” samy quickly defended herself.

“whatever. we’ll get our redemption this year,” will huffed. the girl just rolled her eyes and the two once again missed the looks from everyone else.

the entire time they’d been there it was nonstop flirting from both samy and will. they expected the two to be close, but they didn’t expect the amount of teasing and very painfully obvious to everyone but them flirting. will’s cheeks reddened anytime samy poked fun at him and they saw the way samy’s gaze lingered on the blonde when he wasn’t paying attention anymore.

no one said anything until they were back in plymouth that night. all of them kept glancing at the blonde, wondering if he’d say anything, but nothing came from him as he stretched out on the couch and started scrolling through his phone.

ryan eyes bounced from gabe’s to aram’s and then to drew’s. will didn’t realize the silence until he noticed the guys lingering by the entryway occasionally glancing at him.

“what?” the boy laughed, confused by their behavior.

“you and samy are a lot closer than you led on,” ryan started causally as he leaned down on the couch.

“i guess. she’s like a sister,” the blonde chuckled, clearly not understanding the deeper implication trying to be made. the family zone. it definitely did not look like a sibling relationship to the guys.

“a sister? you flirt with her like she isn’t,” aram finally got to the point, a teasing, shit-eating grin on his lips as he took one of the chairs.

“flirt with her? what the hell are you on about?” will grew confused.

“dude, be so serious right now. there’s no way you don’t see it,” ryan laughed.

“see what?” now will was getting frustrated with the laughter coming from his friends.

“you guys were literally flirting with one another the entire time, it was disgusting. there’s no way you haven’t had feelings for her or some shit,” aram cut in again.

“for samy? no way. we’re friends. we always have been. i could never see her like that,” the idea even made will shudder. all he had ever seen her as was another sister to get annoyed at and bother him whenever he was doing something.

“mhm,” gabe mumbled.

“jesus, you guys are so annoying. i kind of regret bringing you along,” the blonde rolled his eyes, refocusing his attention on his phone.

“you say that, but i give it a year at the most and then you’ll realize what we’ve been saying was right all along,” ryan snickered with another annoying grin. the other guys nodded in agreement.

the only thing will could do was ignore their comments because none of them were true. him and samy were like brother and sister. there were no feelings nor would there ever be.

#hughes!sister x will smith au #samy x will #will smith hockey #boston college #boston college hockey #samy hughes #umich hockey #will smith imagine #will smith x oc #uofmichigan

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dewedup · 8 months

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running down your face (phantom ghoul)

Fresh tears build as his fingers start moving again, trying, and failing to follow the video, hair ending up in a tangled mess. Even here, in the safety of his room, he feels like he’s doing something wrong. He’s not a good enough ghoul, unable to stop the thoughts of trying these things out and liking the idea of how he’d look with pretty nails or cute makeup. He’s also apparently a failure at being a ghoulette also.

an art/fic collab with the wonderful @kamonart (it's honestly perfect, i bow down to your talent)

as always my trusty @jimothybarnes went through the trenches to beta this for me, hyping me up through the writing process and just giving the most big-brained ideas to add to this piece - forever grateful and always excited to read their edits

SEE THE GORGEOUS ART HERE

words: 2,731

under the cut but can also be read on AO3

Phantom purrs happily as Cumulus runs her fingers through his hair, pulling with just enough tension and twisting delicately. His chest rumbles in satisfaction as he closes his eyes at the feeling. Cirrus is bent over Aurora’s foot, methodically dipping her brush into a bottle nail polish, dragging careful stripes over her toenails, eyes squinting in concentration. Bubbly pop music plays from the speaker Aurora pulled from her room, she’s singing along softly as she tries a new eyeliner technique that resembles a batwing. Phantom opens his eyes to watch longingly as her fingers move with self-taught precision. He feels warm to his core, happiness coating his skin, the scent of his euphoria so thick you can taste it on your tongue.

“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” Swiss shouts from the couch on the other side of the room, thumbs flying around the controller in his hand as he snarls at Dew. The fire ghoul is moving his fingers erratically on his own remote, his other hand hovering in front of the multi ghoul’s eyes, blocking his view of the television. Rain giggles from his perch on the recliner, legs thrown over one side as his back stretches over the other armrest, neck craned at an impossible angle to keep his eyes glued to the screen. Mountain is grinning on the floor, head titled back and resting in Rain’s lap as he also moves his car around the track in the video game they are playing.

Phantom thinks they called it Mario Kart, but this Mario character sure seems to be causing quite the discord amongst the ghouls.

His eyes travel across the common room before he stops and does a double take.

Everyone is hanging out together but there seems to be a clear divide between the ghouls and ghoulettes, the only outlier being himself. His mind is moving swiftly, eyes trailing over Dew’s long, blond hair, hanging down his back unrestrained. He lifts a hand to his own head, fingers brushing along the intricate pattern Cumulus has created, strands weaving in and out in a smooth line. Odd.

“Hey bug, you want me to do yours next?” Cirrus asks from the floor, staring up at him from under her lashes as she blows softly on Aurora’s freshly painted toes, eliciting peals of laughter from the tiny ghoulette. Phantom hesitates as he glances over at the group of ghouls, eyes searching the different hands holding onto controllers. He doesn’t see any sort of colour on any of their fingers, a little dirt under the nails but that’s it. Uncertainty looms like a cloud, blocking the previous air of happiness, the rumbling in his chest coming to an abrupt halt. Is this something that ghouls aren’t supposed to do?

“Uh, no thank you.” Phantom replies sheepishly, a blush burning across his cheeks in what feels like embarrassment with a hint of shame. His confusion must be apparent on his face because Cirrus looks ready to say something else, he quickly clears his throat and rises to his feet, drawing multiple pairs of eyes to himself. “I’m actually really tired, I think I’m going to go lie down.”

He escapes before anyone can question him further, hoping no one catches a glimpse of the tears starting to form in his eyes as he retreats to the safety of his room.

“Then cross the right strand over and into the middle, be sure to add some hair from the same side…”

Phantom’s fingers move clumsily, trying to follow the YouTube tutorial steps, he’s pretty sure he’s doing exactly what they’re saying but their braid looks completely different than whatever the fuck is going on in his hair. He glances at the mirror warily, trying to identify where he went wrong.

“Get it together,” he spits at the reflection staring back at him pathetically. The stain of tears trail down his face, emphasized by the mess of eyeliner he’d used to try and recreate Aurora’s batwing look with. Her thin, delicate lines had become black smudges, closely resembling a raccoon’s eyes. As if that wasn’t just fucking perfect, he also had black polish in places he didn’t even know he could get it. It pooled in the bed of his nails, coating the surrounding skin more so than the nails themselves. Phantom didn’t know you had to wait for it to dry, he’d blown on it a few times like he’d watched Cirrus do, but then when he started attempting his hair it had gotten there too, most notably in strands lacking any colour.

Defeat sits heavy on his chest as he collapses to the floor in a heap, shoulders shaking as he buries his face in his hands, the smell of nail polish tickling his nose in a taunting way. He bites his lip to stifle the sounds of his sobs.

Phantom starts the next day trying to shake off the doubt and self-loathing lingering from the previous night. He had spent hours trying to scrub the nail polish from his body, the soap and water only worked so well, leaving evidence of his failure in his nailbeds for everyone to see.

The siblings of sin watch his every move, or at least it feels that way. He hears laughter from a corner of the hallway and sees a group of sisters giggling and sneaking glances his way. His heart stops as he stumbles over his own feet, just barely catching himself. Nothing can stop the flush that covers his entire body as he quickly shuffles down the hallway, their laughter echoing in his head. Did they see his nail polish? They couldn’t see his hair, covered, thankfully, by the mask he wears. The uncertainty kicks in as he glares at his fingers, begging the remnants of the black to disappear with willpower alone.

Phantom shakes his head as the feelings of doubt rears its ugly head. He feels trapped, confined in this new body, this new place. His hands shake as panic sets in, his breathing becoming laboured as he turns down another hallway, grasping desperately at the stone walls to ground himself. He can’t breathe, wishes he could rip his mask off to help get in more oxygen. He sinks to the floor, chest heaving for air.

A hand on his back startles him, he recoils like he’s been burned as he turns to meet the cool, blue eyes of Cumulus.

“It’s okay bug, just try and breathe through it.” Her words are calm, soothing, and Phantom tries to follow her instructions. “Hands on your knees and head between your legs, you’re safe, it’s okay.”

He does as she says, her hand rubbing soothingly up and down his back as she breathes loudly, setting a pace for him to follow as he works through the worst of it. I can’t even walk down a fucking hallway without losing it, his thoughts turn sour, picking and pulling at his already crumbling self-image.

Maybe he’s not meant to be topside, things were so much easier in the pit. He knew who he was there, without all this outside influence. This world is overstimulating, so many thoughts and feelings, he’s overwhelmed. He thought being summoned was a chance at freedom, to live a life he had a say in, while still following the ideals of the Ministry. Yet here he was, fucking it up royally. Cumulus would tell the pack about how weak he was, that he can’t even control his own mind and body, and they’d send him back.

As soon as he gets his breathing under control, he’s on his feet, sprinting away from the air ghoulette who watches with calculating eyes. The scene in the hallway replaying as she tries to find the trigger for his panic attack.

Cumulus sits at the table, nursing a mug of tea as the other ghouls mill about. All except for Phantom, who seems to be hiding away in his room as of late. She’s been mulling over recent events, trying to find out what’s haunting the normally light-hearted and easy-going quintessence ghoul.

“Does Phantom seem off to you guys?” She asks at large, eyes darting around the room as the ghouls seem to take in her words. Mountain and Rain look up from their crossword in confusion, but Cirrus seems to pause, her spoonful of ice cream hanging in the empty space between her bowl and her mouth.

“I think it started when I asked to paint his nails. Do you think I offended him?” She seems troubled by the thought, her pretty lips pulling down into a frown as she tries to recall the incident. Swiss reaches over the table, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder as he shakes his head at the notion.

“No Cir, that doesn’t seem like him. He was letting Cumulus braid his hair when that happened, it wasn’t a stretch to see if he was interested in more.” He reassures her, his tone soothing but he turns to Cumulus with raised eyebrows, wanting confirmation that he isn’t wrong in his line of thought.

“I think Swiss is right, it doesn’t seem like he’s mad, maybe more confused?” She adds as she takes in the new information from Cirrus, trying to connect the dots.

“Maybe he just doesn’t want to partake in your little ghoulette nights and felt obligated?” Dew offers, so deep in thought that the marshmallow he’s roasting over the palm of his hand catches fire, turning black faster than he can shove it into his mouth. Rain laughs as Dew chews noisily, black smoke escaping his mouth as he swallows down his treat.

“Wait!” Cumulus shouts, then stops as it all starts coming together. She lowers her voice as she leans into the table. “You don’t think he’s confused about what he can do? I ran into him in the hallway earlier and he looked like he wanted to glare his hands off, and when I got closer, I noticed some nail polish on his fingers.” She doesn’t mention that she only got a good look at his fingers while he was breaking down and had firmly placed his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

A tiny throat clears from the entrance to the kitchen, and Aurora steps forward, wringing her hands together uncertainly.

“I mean we’re both pretty new to this whole thing, y’know being topside and whatnot? It’s complex and confusing. The ghoulettes have done a great job at teaching me how things work, explaining emotions to me and stuff. It’s all very human, and not something we’re familiar with in the pit. Have you guys had similar conversations?” She directs the question towards the ghouls, who look at her in surprise, before turning to look at each other.

“Fucking idiots,” Cirrus hisses, smacking Swiss’ hand off her shoulder as she throws a glare to each ghoul, her lips curling back over her fangs as Dew holds up his hands in defence.

Phantom rolls out of bed, dreading the day like he’s gotten used to. He feels weird in his own body, going through the motions of getting ready, a semi-permanent frown etched onto his face. He’s so tired. It’s bone-deep, sleep escaping him most nights and when it does come it’s unsatisfying.

With a sigh he opens his door, making his way down the hallway and into the kitchen of the ghoul den. He grabs a bowl of cereal and sits at the table in silence, chewing monotonously on his Fruit Loops as he thinks over what he needs to do for the day, and how he can accomplish it the quickest so he can return to the safety of his bed.

He’s lifting the bowl to his lips and slurping up the last of his milk as Dew enters the kitchen, going over to the coffee pot and pouring himself a mug. Phantom chokes on his milk as he notices Dew’s hair, braided neatly in a French (or Dutch, honestly, they looked the same and the tutorials were both too confusing to make sense of. And what does nationality have to do with a braid?) style. His hair shines in the morning light as he adds an unholy amount of sugar to his coffee watching Phantom over the brim of his mug as he takes a sip of what can only be scalding liquid.

Phantom’s eyes widen as he stares at the fire ghoul, who simply shrugs his shoulders before turning and going about his day, leaving Phantom’s head reeling.

Phantom spends his day lost in thought, Dew had looked so casual this morning, maybe he has it all wrong? Maybe he lost a dare? He can’t seem to make up his mind. He’s spent so long thinking negatively about himself it seems too easy to just brush it to the side.

He’s still walking on a cloud as he enters the dining hall, moving robotically in line as he waits for his turn to grab food. A hand with black-painted nails hands him a plate, he takes a second to admire the cool art on the thumb before he grabs the plate, a ‘thank you’ already leaving his lips as he looks up and is met with the grinning face of Swiss.

The multi ghoul tosses him a wink as they work through the food line, Phantom’s brain short-circuiting as he trails behind him like a shadow, not even paying attention to the food he adds to his plate. His confusion must be written on his face because Swiss takes pity on him, grabbing his hand and lacing their fingers as he leads them to the table the rest of the ghouls have taken to calling their own.

Phantom sits on the bench and places his plate down, taking a second to breathe before he raises his head, looking around at his pack. Dew still has his hair braided, Sunshine seems to have found some pretty flowers and is ignoring her food in favour of twining the stems through his hair as Dew eats, acting completely oblivious to the ghoulette’s current task.

His eyes scan the rest of his group before he doubles back, staring at the water ghoul in shock. Rain glances up at him, a smile pulling up the corner of his lips as he nods at Phantom. It’s the mascara coating his long lashes that catches the quintessence ghoul’s attention, the black makeup enhancing Rain’s eyes, making them more striking than they already are.

Is this okay? The siblings of sin don’t seem to bat an eye at the group of ghouls. A weight is lifted off his shoulders, he visibly relaxes under the soft smiles of his pack. A sense of belonging fills him as the uncertainty and doubt slip away into the deep recesses of his mind. He smiles, staring down at his plate as he thinks back to how easily this had spiralled out of control. He should have come to his packmates once he started feeling off, but he didn’t know how to vocalize his thoughts and feelings, terrified of being turned away by the only family he has.

“Hey Phantom, I got a new curling iron that got delivered this morning, would you mind being my model to try it out on?” Aurora speaks up from the other end of the table, her bright smile filling Phantom with a sudden happiness, so much so that it surprises a purr from him, chest once again rumbling in contentedness for the first time in a while.

“Hey!” Mountain protests from beside Phantom, frowning as he leans forward to look at the ghoulette. “You asked me first,” he accuses. The look quickly turns into a grin though, as he bumps Phantom’s shoulder with his own, suggesting in a whisper that they could take turns.

#the band ghost fanfic #the band ghost fanfiction #phantom ghoul #phantom ghost #phantom #nameless ghouls #gloom writes #kenny draws #its a match made in hell

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pianokantzart · 1 year

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Yes please. The first scene of The Mario Brothers sets the tone for their relationship so well, and I’m so glad it carries through the entire film. Most of the screenshots taken from this posted clip: X

I ADORE THAT THE FIRST SHOT OF THEM IN THE MOVIE IS THEM SIDE HUGGING EACH OTHER. They’re just standing there in front of the television, watching their commercial, two goobers barely able to contain the excitement of what they’ve accomplished together.

The commercial ends, and immediately they start showering each other with complements while teasing each other. “Wow! You were great!” Mario shouts while slapping Luigi’s cap over his eyes. “I was great? Are you kidding me!? You were great!” Luigi shouts back as he playfully jabs at his brother’s stomach.

While they’re both proud of the commercial, Mario expresses some minor worries. He says “I’m so glad we spent our life savings on this commercial” as though he was having doubts before, and wonders if the goofy Italian accent was too over the top. But Luigi is fully optimistic, describing their ad as not just some commercial, but true “cinema.” He is about to reassure Mario about the accents too, when the Giuseppe... who naturally has that same goofy over-the-top accent... chimes in to voice his support.

“Well well well...” Then a new voice joins the conversation, and the moment Mario and Luigi hear it the mood changes. Both brothers tense up and turn to look.

In an instant, their instinctual reaction is “Ah fuck, not this guy.” “...If it isn’t Brooklyn’s favorite failures, The Stupid Mario Brothers.”

“Oh great, Spike’s here.” Luigi’s comment is one of passive annoyance. He stays behind his brother, his body language anxious and anticipatory, his expression looking more and more worried the closer he gets to Spike.

“Hey, Spike.” Mario, on the other hand, is assertive. He immediately walks over and stands confrontationally in front of his old boss, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Yeah. IT’S-A ME!” Spike retorts with an imitation of Mario’s put-on Italian accent and aggressively laughs in his face. He isn’t “annoying but well-meaning” the way Mario’s uncles are, he’s deliberately trying to get under his skin. Mario squints when Spike laughs a little too close for comfort, but otherwise holds his ground and maintains his composure.

Spike wipes a tear from his eye and switches gears from obnoxious mockery to cold belittling. “Tell me, have you even gotten one call since you left me to start your dumb company?”

So right off the bat we learn two things: 1. The Mario Brothers quit Spike’s business, and he’s bitter enough about it that he’s tracked their future endeavors and goes out of his way to make fun of them for it. Clearly there’s an issue of pride here– two little nothings quitting his business to try and make it on their own? Who do they think they are? 2. Mario, in return, is bitter enough about whatever happened while they worked for Spike that he takes the bait and gives Spike the time of day. Luigi looks like he would prefer to dip out of the situation altogether, but he does his best to support Mario when he thinks he’s got a leg up…

While Mario is still taking a breath to form his reply, Luigi summons the courage to step out from behind his brother, looking smug as he waves his cellphone around. “Actually, Spike, we have!”

Mario is excited for a moment until it’s revealed the phone call is from their mom. Luigi is proud enough of her support that he sincerely considers it a bragging point, happily clinging to his sibling all the while Mario is internally begging his brother to stfu.

Then, Luigi mic-drops the phone. It audibly shatters. Instant regret. Mario looks like he’s going to implode from embarrassment.

Spike, naturally, finds this hilarious. Giggling, he grabs a napkin, wipes the pizza grease off of his beard, and lobs the crumpled napkin at Luigi. “Good luck running a business with this idiot.”

With lightning-fast reflexes, Mario reaches out and catches the napkin before it hits its target. The music takes a dramatic shift as the mood of the conversation gets more serious.

“Say that again about my brother, and you’re gonna regret it.” At that point, it might have been smarter for Mario to just throw the napkin in the nearest bin and walk away, but Spike just made the mistake of going at Luigi. Nobody is allowed to treat him like that, not while Mario’s around.

Mario retaliates by throwing the napkin back in Spike’s face, hitting him square in the forehead. Spike does not take this lightly. Where Mario has a sense of basic dignity, Spike has an overinflated ego, and he won’t take even the smallest offense lying down. He rises to his feet, fists clenched, chest puffed, ready for a fight. “Oh yeah?”

Mario also looks ready to throw down, but rather than raise his fists his first priority is to press Luigi out of harm’s way. Luigi, in the meantime, looks terrified, stepping back and bracing himself, his already anxious body language tensing further. Both Mario and Luigi are startled when Spike actually follows through with getting physical, snatching Mario by the overall straps and lifting him up off the ground.

“Get this through your tiny brain Mario: You’re a joke! and you always will be.” Mario doesn’t fight or argue, he just squints as Spike talks uncomfortably close to his face like he’s trying to goad him into throwing the first punch. Mario does not take the bait, and does not give Spike the satisfaction of any reaction at all. When it comes to petty insults like this, he can take them like a champ.

Luigi is shocked into a standstill. His gaze rapidly flicks back and forth between Spike and Mario. He has no idea what to do, he’s just worried about his brother in every sense of the word, taken aback by both the vitriolic comment and threat of an actual fight.

Spike, after getting the final word in, throws Mario to the ground. Luigi drops to his knees and holds out his hands to help his older brother up, but Mario recovers himself before Luigi can assist.

Luigi looks far more hurt by Spike’s insult than Mario, and seems to be calculating what their options are if things escalate any further. Mario holds what little ground he has, staring defiantly up with his hands clenched, as if he’s daring Spike to try something.

Luckily, things simmer down. Spike proudly dusts off his hands and heads toward the door, taking a moment to leave money on the table. He’s an asshat and a blowhard, but he still plays by society’s rules. He doesn’t dine and dash, and he’s not going to carry a confrontation further than he feels he needs to, especially not in a public restaurant. Spike has the potential to win this fight, but at the end of the day he has a business to run.

Despite having been dropped flat on his back, Mario is the first to get up. He straightens his cap and dusts himself off, staring daggers at his old employer’s back while Luigi rises to his feet and begins questioning his brother’s decision. “Are you insane!? He’s three times your size!”

Spike’s insult was cruel, but it clearly didn’t effect Mario too much. It’s more of the same ole same ole from him, and can’t be taken too seriously. Luigi is more concerned about the physical risks involved.

“Luigi, c’mon! I mean, you can’t be scared all the time.” To me, this comment doesn’t feel like Mario criticizing Luigi as much as it feels like Mario defending his own approach to life. Both him and Luigi are young (probably early 20s), little guys working in manual labor. They’re at the bottom of the totem pole, but Mario maintains his sense of pride. He’s eager to fight back against adversity and prove himself to the world, even if it means taking serious risks.

“Mmmm, you’d be surprised.” Luigi, in the meantime, has complete opposite approach when facing life’s challenges. He is not as good at rolling with the punches as Mario, and being very anxious and sensitive by nature, his way of getting along is by avoiding confrontation altogether.

CONCLUSION: Mario’s strong drive pulls Luigi into situations that go against his instincts, but that’s for the better. If Mario hadn’t been there, Luigi definitely wouldn’t have attempted to talk back to Spike like that. Is he skilled at backtalk? Not in the least, but it’s the spirit of attempting to stand up for himself that counts. Mario gives Luigi room to be vaguely adventurous and assertive by providing protection, clearing the path, and making things easier for him whenever he can. As a result, Luigi would follow Mario anywhere– and does, supporting him in all of his endeavors with full confidence. There is a reason why Charlie Day described Luigi as “die-hard loyal,” and for someone like Mario, who has gumption, big dreams, and a lot going against him, having someone at his side who sincerely supports and believes in him with all his heart is indispensable.

The beginning shows us a good example right off the bat of Luigi’s confidence regarding Mario’s dreams, and anxiety regarding outside threats. Meanwhile, we see glimpses of Mario’s anxiety regarding his own dreams, and confidence when facing outside threats. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: they really do balance each other out.

#not art #Mario Movie #Mario Movie Spoilers #mario commentary #Mario analysis #Mario #Luigi #Super Mario Brothers #Super mario bros movie #Super Mario Brothers Movie #The best parts of the movie were when these two were on screen together ISTG #the rest of the film is fun and fine and all that but Mario and Luigis interactions melt my heart into jelly #Them being Them and not being apart is all I want out of the sequel #long post

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maochira · 8 months

Note

idk if you’ve done this already but bllk dads staying up with their kid because reader has insomnia :)

Writing this rn because I know I’m gonna pull an all-nighter tonight 🏃‍♀️ (going on an 8 hour car ride to Italy at 3am(around the time when this posts))

Characters: Ego, Noa, Lavinho

Requests open! - masterlist

Tags: gn!reader, reader is a teenager, reader has insomnia

Ego

-does this guy ever sleep in the first place? No (I know he does. He has the type of sleep schedule where he sleeps for 4 hours, gets up, sleeps for 2 hours again, gets up again and sleeps for 2 hours another time

-but anyways the point is, even without your insomnia he’d be awake most of the night

-Ego lets you stay in his office and rewatches recordings of Blue Lock matches with you. They’re either exciting and entertain you when you can’t fall asleep, or they’re so boring you fall asleep in your chair after one or two hours. No in-between

-surprisingly, your father has enough strength in his body to carry you to your room so you can safely sleep in your bed instead of on the uncomfortable desk chair

-if you still can’t fall asleep, you and Ego also spend a lot of time talking about anything that’s on your mind. Sometimes it’s thousands of thoughts running through your head that won’t let you fall asleep, so Ego let’s you talk about what’s on your mind

-it’s also very good bonding time for the both of you. It may not be under the most optimal circumstances but hey, at least you get to spend time with your father

Noa

-he may be tired and just wants to get to bed on most nights, but he always stays awake as long as he can with you. He knows you feel lonely late at night and that can cause bad thoughts to come up in your head when you can’t fall asleep. And to prevent that, your father stays awake with you

-most nights like this are spent sitting in the living room with a random movie on the TV while you and Noa just talk and talk until you get tired

-he always makes your favourite tea, hot choccy, warm milk, or whatever other (non-caffeinated) warm beverage you’re craving

-occasionally, Noa falls asleep on the couch and you always wonder if you should wake him up or let him continue sleeping. Usually you don’t wake him up because you know how tired your father is most of the time

-but sometimes, he wakes up by himself after like 10 minutes and he keeps apologizing. He feels guilty because he doesn’t like leaving you alone when he knows negative thoughts could flood your brain at any moment

-that’s why he also made you promise to immediately wake him up whenever that happens

Lavinho

-he doesn’t mind staying up longer at all. This guy could get 5 minutes of sleep and would be as energized as he always is

-when you can’t sleep, you and your dad play video games together!! Usually competitive ones like Mario Kart but sometimes ones for which you have work together like Stardew Valley

-it’s also the perfect chance to catch up and talk about stuff when you have busy weeks during which you barely see each other during daytime

-but because of your insomnia Lavinho does forbid you to drink anything that has caffeine in it. Cola, energy drinks and coffee are completely banned from the house. Yes, he doesn’t drink it anymore either because if you can’t, he won’t either

Taglist (sign-up link): @kaineedstherapy12 @luvcalico @truegoist @st4rcheese @acacIa @kermitslefteyeball11 @futuristicxie @bluelock4life @blueberrryui @https-archangel @userwithlotsoftime @chaosinanutshell @mang05 @arxliana @zyuuuu @vanitasbrainrot @toruden @mafuyudonutt @weichspuelertrinker @depressed-bitchy-demon @kaiserkisser @yellowelectroslime @0rah-s @yerinsshi @slowlyholypeanut @isagikisser

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hurtmyfavsthanks · 7 months

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Whumptember day 22

“I’m getting bored” Captive whumpee | New whumper | Electrocution

Content warning: pet whumpee

Whumpee was kneeling at Whumper’s feet again. They were in the same pose they always took; legs tucked beneath their body, palms flat against the floor, and head bowed so low that Whumper couldn’t see their eyes. They’d been in that position for nearly an hour now, and Whumper's back was starting to hurt just looking at them.

Whumper hadn’t asked them to do that. Whumpee did a lot of things Whumper never asked for, They always called Whumper master, never made a noise unless spoken to, always stood at the ready to serve. It'd been exciting at first, the thought of a perfectly obediant pet seemed fun. Now though, it was just a bit pathetic.

Whumper had been warned that buying a used pet meant accepting some quirks leftover from the previous owner. They'd seen those leftovers firsthand in the web of scars whipped into Whumpee's back.

Whumper stared at those scars now, and wondered which lash had been the one to break Whumpee. They didn't like the thought.

“You know, I said you could go anywhere around the house unless I call you. You don't have to kneel next to me all day.," Whumper finally spoke.

“Yes, master. Thank you very much,” was Whumpee’s reply. They did not move.

Whumper only sighed, annoyed. They didn’t know exactly what they were expecting when they bought Whumpee, but this perfect obedience wasn’t it. It didn't feel like talking to a human. And yes, Whumper knew they'd gotten what they asked for - you didn't buy a pet for them to act like a person after all - but still. It was like someone had scooped their will out entirely.

Whumper knew they could stop them. They could order Whumpee to go do something else, or punish them for always being so annoying. They could, but the thought no longer appealed to them. Whumpee was pathetic, obedient to a fault. Punishing someone who would thank them for the correction just didn’t have any appeal.

They looked down at Whumpee again, and suddenly decided they were sick of staring at their scarred back. Whumper stood, stretching. “Alright, I’m getting bored,” they glanced down at Whumpee, head still to the floor. Something like pity twinged in their chest. “Hey, look at me. You know how to play Mario Kart?”

Whumpee looked up at the command. They did not meet Whumper’s gaze. “No, master.”

Whumper headed towards the living room, knowing that Whumpee would follow them. “Guess I’m teaching you how then.”

#whumper turned caretaker #kinda at least? kinda yeah #whumpee #whumper #pet whumpee #whumptember #whumptember day 22 #whumptember 2023 #whump #day 22: I'm getting bored/captive whumpee/new whumper #pet whump #captivity whump #my stuff

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missmaywemeetagain · 1 year

Text

Broken Glass (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x OC Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis Presley - Elvis (2022)

Read More Here - Broken Glass Masterlist! (Coming Soon)

Prompt: You are Dolores Cannava, a young Italian-American nurse desperate to make her own way in the world and break free of her dysfunctional mafia-connected family and traumatic past. Elvis Presley is just returning home from his two-year stint in the Army, looking more handsome than ever, but feeling the pressure to successfully find his way back to the stratospheric career he was forced to leave behind. In a twisted turn of fate, Elvis finds himself in the hospital where your paths cross. Forced to harbor his potentially career-ending secret and needing to escape a terrifying future in New York, you are pulled into his unusual world and must endure a begrudging fake relationship with Elvis in order to protect his reputation (and his life).

TW: Hospitals, illness, allusions to abuse. Some historical inaccuracies.

Tags: Fake relationship. Slow burn. Angst. (Sort of) enemies to lovers.

Rating: PG (ish?) (but this story will eventually be Mature/NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact) || Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: It’s good to be back, my lil’ darlin’s! I’ve missed y’all! Broken Glass has a decidedly different feel than Pink Scarf, and I really hope that you enjoy it. This will be more of a slow burn and not quite as smut heavy as PS, but we’ll get there eventually! The original character of Dolores can also be read as Reader, but her back story needed to be pretty specific so I decided to go the OC route. I’m excited to dive into some of my favorite tropes with this one, and hopefully I can do them justice.

Delicious 1960 Post-Army E has me in almost as much of a chokehold as ’69 E, so it was only right that I give him the attention he deserves!

As always, I love and live for your reactions, comments, asks, and reblogs, so thank you in advance for both reading and giving another one of my stories a chance!

I imagined it with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat.

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch.

I’ve used the tag list from Pink Scarf, so please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

Story is cross-posted to my Wattpad and AO3, if you prefer those reading experiences!

Bellevue Hospital

New York City, New York

March 1960

“Nurse Cannava!”

The shrill call of Charge Nurse Irma Hunt grates on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard, but you don’t dare show it on your face. Instead, you take a deep breath through your nose and hurry over to the severe woman.

“Yes, Nurse Hunt?” you say as evenly as possible. You’ve only been an official Registered Nurse for a few months and cannot afford to make a wrong step with this drill sergeant of a woman. You’d rather be extra deferential and placating than looking for a new job, no matter how much you want to run in the opposite direction any time she calls your name.

She looks at you critically, peering down over her glasses with her sharp stare. “Nurse Calhoun was pulled away to surgery before she was able to finish her other duties. I need you to change the sheets for our VIP patient while he’s upstairs for x-rays. I need you to be quick. In and out, no funny business, you understand me?”

“Of course, Nurse Hunt,” you nod frantically. It’s the middle of the night, so it is strange for the patient to be doing tests at this hour. Though if they are trying to keep his identity under wraps, it makes sense that they would choose an hour where less people were involved.

“And absolutely no telling anyone about our patient. We must uphold the strictest confidentiality, now more than ever,” she adds with a glare.

The threat is clear:

Don’t mess this up.

“I understand.” Curiosity of who it could be itches at the edge of your mind, wondering about this VIP that has the woman in more of a harsh mood than usual.

Maybe it’s Ricky Nelson or Mario Lanza or Marlon Brando, your mind titters, but it’s probably just some stuffy politician. You figure it’s better to have low expectations and be pleasantly surprised than to have high ones and be disappointed.

Ever the realist.

Regardless of who might be, you don’t have time for silly schoolgirl fantasies. There is a job to do, and you best be getting to it before getting into trouble.

You scurry away to gather fresh linens, then make your way back to one of the few private rooms on the floor. Most patients are relegated to the open wards here in Manhattan’s biggest hospital, but there are special cases, such as this, it seems, where a more private setting is needed.

There’s a large man at the door, keeping watch, and he looks you up and down with narrowed eyes longer than you’d like, sending a chill into your gut. But this is nothing new. You hold your ground, straightening your spine and lifting your chin.

“Nurse Hunt asked me to change the sheets,” you say, clipped. He smiles, as if in on a joke you’re not privy to, then opens the door.

At 20, you are the youngest nurse on the ward. People, especially men, tend to underestimate you, but you have something to prove and no time for nonsense. Graduating high school early, you were thrilled to be accepted to Bellevue School of Nursing, one of the best programs in the country. The four-year experience had been grueling, but since you had to live in the dormitory, it got you out of the house and away from your damned father and his cronies.

In the process, you discovered that helping people truly is your calling. So, while young, you are good at your job and take it seriously.

This is why you hurry in and start stripping the bed as quickly as possible. As curious as you are as to who this mysterious man might be, getting the job done is much more important than snooping around the room.

You tug and pull the sheets as taut as possible, perfect hospital corners making the bed crisp and neat. Your attention to detail and cleanliness are a sense of pride, so spending a little more time than necessary making sure the bed is perfect is worth it. The intention isn’t to linger, but if this VIP is as important as everyone is making him out to be, you want to make sure everything is done right.

Finally, after inspection, you gather up the dirty sheets and make your way around the bed, just as the door opens to the room.

Damn. You weren’t fast enough.

Your gaze cannot help but drop to the man in the wheelchair. A bandage is stuck at the edge of his thick chestnut locks. Although he is obviously ill, his sapphire eyes rimmed with dark circles and his pallor pale, there is absolutely no mistaking who the VIP is.

America’s biggest rebel-turned-G.I., the one and only Elvis Presley.

You are not a fan, but your heart unwillingly kerthunks against your ribcage anyway because he’s still one of the most famous men on the planet, and you are shocked at how pictures barely do the man justice.

Dear lord, even sick, he is wildly gorgeous in person, you catch yourself thinking. His essence seems to fill the room, pushing all the oxygen out, because suddenly you can’t catch your breath. Suddenly, you understand why millions of ladies fall faint at his feet.

Surprised to see someone in his room, his eyes rake up your body from your toes to your little white nurse’s cap. You hold back a shiver as those famous bedroom eyes finally land on yours.

“Well, hello there, little bird.”

Little bird? You know you shouldn’t let it bother you, but the pet name rankles you in its familiarity. You’ve been called all manner of things by all manner of men, both in and out of this hospital, but this is a new one, and though certainly not the worst, it bothers you all the same. Perhaps it’s because he acts as though he is owed this familiarity and expects you to be grateful for it.

His lilting Southern drawl is creaky and hoarse from illness, making him a little less mystical, which allows you to quickly recover your wits. Trying not to show annoyance on your face, you straighten your posture while moving aside to let the orderly push Elvis into the room and help him onto the bed.

“Goodnight, sir,” you say politely, as pissing off this VIP will do you no favors, but your eyes harden at the way his gaze openly lingers on you. You attempt to skirt around him as quickly as possible, but the room, though private, is not large, and the wheelchair and the two men take up much of the space.

“Hey, little bird, wait!” he calls out before you even reach the door.

Stopping in your tracks, your infernal heart continues to pound in your ears. All you want is to get out of this suffocating room, but you inhale and turn around instead. The orderly gives a wink before sliding out of the room behind you. You resist the urge to huff.

“It’s Nurse Cannava, sir,” you say firmly, trying to take the edge out of your voice, albeit unsuccessfully. “Is there something I can help you with?”

That sly, signature grin spreads almost bashfully across his face and if you weren’t so perturbed by the suggestiveness of it, you might keel over from its brilliance filling the small space.

“Call me Elvis, little birdy,” he drawls, blatantly ignoring using your given name, as requested. “Could ya be so kind as to get me some water? Please?” he asks kindly, which is far more than you expect.

“Yes, certainly, sir,” you reply, equally ignoring his request to call him Elvis. You turn on your heel and escape as quickly as possible before he can ask any more of you.

A breath shudders through you once you’re out in the hallway. You hadn’t realized you were holding it. You are as bothered by this reaction as by the fact that you must get this man water and go back in there without showing him that you are in any way affected by the fact that he’s Elvis Presley or that his behavior has you decidedly on edge.

He’s a patient, you remind myself silently, and this is part of my job. A job I desperately need to keep if I want to get out of that nightmare of a house...

This thought steadies you more than anything. You’ll do almost anything to be in a position to permanently leave home and to do so without having to marry that mook Gianni. And hell, you’ve dealt with much worse in terms of patient behavior. Getting Elvis water is objectively the easiest thing you’ve had to do all shift.

You can’t seem to help straightening your starched white apron before taking a deep breath and marching back into the room, pitcher of water and a glass in hand.

“Here you are, sir,” you say, trying not to sound terse, trying not to look directly at him. It’s almost like the feeling that you shouldn’t be looking at the sun, yet your eyes want to do it anyway. Even without looking at him, you can sense his heavy gaze lingering over you. You blush involuntarily, the blooming warmth a betrayal of your modesty. In response, you place the pitcher and water down on the table near him and turn to flee as quickly as possible without making it seem like that’s what you are doing.

“Hey, now, little bird,” Elvis says, catching the hem of your skirt, halting your exit. “Why ya tryin’ to fly away so fast?”

“Oh Madone,” you mumble under your breath, your Italian heritage making an appearance as you roll your eyes to the heavens before turning back around and pulling the fabric from his long fingers. Heat washes over you in an angry wave, turning your blush a deeper shade of red.

“I have other patients to tend to, sir.” It’s not a lie but sure feels like one with the strained way it falls off your tongue. Your lips press into a thin line of a smile, desperately trying not to glare at him but catching his eyes with your unamused ones all the same.

“Elvis,” he corrects me, maddingly, that smirk playing on his lips, a playfulness in his glassy, feverish eyes. “And I was just wonderin’ if ya could pour me a cup, since it’s all the way over d’ere?”

The water is on the table right next to the bed, and he certainly looks able to pour it himself, and you both know it, but he just smiles, playing this infuriating game, wasting your time.

Finally, you sigh and relent. It’ll be faster to just do it than to try an argue about it. He’s a patient, after all.

You still feel his eyes on you as you turn sideways and dutifully pour the water out. His presence, especially when focused on you alone, feels incredibly overwhelming, mixing a healthy dose of trepidation in with your irritation. You keep your face as neutral as possible and hand over the glass.

What you don’t expect is for him to touch you, his fingers circling over yours, blazing hot from the fever he looks to have. You loathe the way your heart flips in your chest when he looks up at you through impossibly long, feathering lashes, those gemstone eyes of his expressive beyond imagining and conveying more than just playfulness.

“Thank you, little bird,” he whispers. The sound swirls up your spine, breaking through your annoyance just enough to see the blithe, handsome boyishness of him. It promises an unfamiliar temptation, one you’ve seen only in movies and never willingly and truthfully experienced for yourself. Your mouth goes bone dry.

He is dangerous, you think, but not because you are afraid of him in a physical sense (and lord knows you’ve feared too many men already in your short lifetime). No, his is a danger of an entirely different sort. He makes you want to trust him, and in your experience, men are never, ever to be trusted.

“Nurse Cannava! What are you doing in here?” Nurse Hunt’s shrill admonishment startles you out of the hypnotizing stare of the teen idol, causing you to jump back as though he was on fire. You let go of the glass, slipping your hands out of his, but he does the same, and the glass spills water all over the newly changed sheets before tumbling to the floor where it shatters with a crash.

The tinkling of the glass explodes in your head, and a latent and all-too-familiar fear associated with the sound freezes you to the spot. Try as you might, you cannot stop the involuntary trembling that rushes through your limbs. Air attempts to fill your lungs, but the breaths are too short and shallow to do any good. The wave of panic threatens to undo you, right here, in front of both your superior and the most famous man in the world.

It's just broken glass. I’m safe. I’m at work. He can’t hurt me here. The mantra plays in your head over and over as you clasp your shaking hands in front of you, trying to pull yourself together before anyone notices anything amiss.

“I told you to be quick and quiet, not go around cavorting with our patient!” Hunt hisses harshly, glowering, but it snaps you out of the trance-like state that has overtaken you.

Now, instead of fearing things that cannot hurt you here, you are suddenly afraid for your job. Nurse Hunt is a terrifying and formidable leader and being on her bad side means a world of hurt going forward. Your heart feels like a hummingbird’s, fueled by anger, embarrassment, and lingering panic. You resist the urge to give Elvis a scathing look, knowing it will likely just result in more trouble. Instead, you quickly raise your eyes and catch a strangely curious yet concerned look from the man.

“I-I’m s-so sorry, Head Nurse,” you finally stammer out, realizing she is waiting for you to say something. “I’ll clean that up right away.” You start for the bed but are stopped by the crunching glass beneath your practical white nurse’s shoes.

“Ma’am?” Elvis croaks out suddenly, gently, capturing the older woman’s attention. “I’m sorry ma’am, I don’t mean to be a bother, but it wasn’t the young lady’s fault at all. I asked her for the water. She was just doin’ her job, and I distracted her. It’s my fault.” His bedroom eyes widen with an almost childlike deference as he looks at her through those long lashes.

Elvis oozes an effusive charm that makes the formidable woman’s hardened veneer crack. It might not be obvious to one who doesn’t know her, but her gaze softens ever so slightly.

You almost want to roll your eyes and scoff, but the strange thing is that it doesn’t feel at all like a put-on. It first strikes you as some sort of malevolent manipulation, like he wants to impress you somehow by getting you out of the mess he got you into, but he seems nothing but honest. He looks truly sorry.

You stand stock still, hands still clasped in front of your apron, needing to know your fate before moving. Nurse Hunt finally sighs, having weighed her options of denying her VIP’s puppy dog eyes or making your life miserable.

“Alright, Mr. Presley. Nurse Cannava will help you move to that chair there so she can change your sheets again and clean up this mess,” she says through pursed lips. “And you let her be and do her job, you hear? You’re not the only patient on the ward, young man.”

“Of course, ma’am. I really am sorry about the mess,” he says softly, seriously, nodding.

“Quickly, Nurse!” Nurse Hunt barks. Picking your jaw off the ground, you hustle to the other side of the bed, still amazed he was able to soften the old goat in any way.

It’s not until your arm is around his waist while the other steadies him in a well-practiced and trained move that you realize that you are holding a barely clothed Elvis Presley. A brief but decidedly improper and embarrassing thought flirts in the back of your mind as you help him into the chair in the corner. His skin is hot with fever, easily felt where your skin touches his and it radiates through his thin hospital gown. It burns into you, through you, melding with the unnerving, angry fire that already consumes you. You can feel his eyes on you but don’t dare to look at him, not with Hunt watching, making sure you don’t drop the prize patient.

You suppose you are glad for the fact that your cheeks were already on fire from humiliation, so neither can see just how uncomfortable and ashamed you feel right now. The way emotions flash rapidly through you, you’re amazed you can concentrate at all, but you manage to deposit the singer in the chair, unscathed.

Nurse Hunt huffs a little, but seems satisfied, and takes her leave, on to the next crisis.

A relieved but shuddering breath releases from you and without looking at the man in the chair that has caused so much trouble tonight, you jump to removing the sheets you made so perfectly not minutes ago.

“Hey, little b—Nurse Cannava,” Elvis catches himself, “I-I-I meant what I said—I really am sorry I made things harder on ya.”

You refuse to look at him. Instead, you grit your teeth and yank the sheets off, furious. Storming out of the room, you quickly retrieve a new set of sheets and a broom and dustpan for the glass on the floor.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” he mutters as you stomp back in the room, dutifully ignoring his presence. You busy yourself with the glass first, sweeping it into a pile, then bending over to sweep it into the dustpan. You realize too late that you’ve just effectively but unwittingly shown Elvis your rear end. You can practically hear the smirk on his face, which is confirmed once you flit your eyes over to him.

A new wave of heat flushes over your cheeks, but you pretend you don’t notice his leering. Nothing good has come tonight from you paying any sort of mind to what Elvis is doing. You go about your business as swiftly as possible, counting the seconds before you can remove yourself from his suffocating presence.

“You just gonna ignore me now, honey? Come on, I-I-I said I-I was sorry,” he stutters petulantly after another minute of silence.

Your response is to tug the sheets as tight as you can. You move around the other side, hating that your behind will be in his face while you finish the bed, but it can’t be helped. You grit your teeth and focus on smoothing the sheets instead of the hole Elvis is burning through your backside.

“Well, at least I got a nice view in the room…of the city, I mean,” he chuckles. The innuendo is crystal clear.

You whirl around and want to slap that stupid grin right off his pretty face. You’ve never felt so unprofessional or off the rails as you do with this man.

He’s a patient, he’s a patient, he’s a VIP patient, you remind yourself, trying to take calming breaths. But try as you might, you can’t seem to keep your damn mouth shut, that Italian temper flaring, boiling your blood.

“Eyes up!” you snap your fingers at him. “I have work to do and a job to keep, and talking with you only gets me in trouble, so leave me be!” Blood throbs in your ears as you attempt unsuccessfully to keep your fury at bay.

“Ooh, I heard New York cherries were feisty, but I hadn’t the occasion to see it for m’self,” he muses, thinking he’s just about the funniest thing since Lenny Bruce.

“Oh, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” you mutter under your breath, fuming, turning around to finish the bed. Once it’s done, you breathe a sigh of relief and make to leave.

“Hey, little bird, you want an autograph or somethin’?” Elvis asks, still vying for your attention for whatever reason.

God, the ego on this one. “I don’t want anything from you.” You can’t help but turn towards him, even though you know you should leave as fast as your legs will carry you.

“Not a fan, huh? Bet I can change your mind,” he says, his left eyebrow quirking up suggestively. The man is as gorgeous as he is infuriating.

“I prefer Ricky Nelson, so no thanks,” you shoot back at him.

He fully laughs at that, a big, hiccupping, musical sound that under any other circumstance might be attractive and endearing, but now it just seeks to make you angrier. Your seething seems to amuse him all the more, however, as he erupts into more peals of laughter.

“You’re somethin’ else, lil’ bird,” he wheezes, wiping tears from his eyes. But his face suddenly turns alarmed as he can’t seem to catch his breath, the laughter turning into gasps.

“Elvis, enough of that. Let’s get you into bed.” Your training immediately overrides whatever negative feelings you might have towards the man. “Try to take slow, deep breaths,” you say calmly, crossing the room quickly.

His face turns red and panic starts to bloom in his darkening, churning eyes as he wheezes. You help him up and out of the chair, and he shudders, leaning all his weight on you. His breathing is too labored and he’s burning up, and you’re not sure he’ll make it the short way to the bed.

Indeed, the two of you only make it a single step before his long legs give way, and it’s all you can do to brace his tall, lean body and keep him from hitting the tile floor hard. Instead, you slide down together, and you make sure to cradle his head as he collapses.

You don’t panic. In fact, you are the calmest you’ve been since meeting the superstar because this you know you can handle. This is what you were born to do.

“We need some help in here!” you shout out to the ward before turning your attention back to Elvis, now sprawled on his back on the floor. You quickly grab the oxygen mask from his bedside and turn the nozzle to get the air flowing.

“Elvis, you’re going to be okay. I need you to try and breathe deep for me, as deep as you can,” you say, fitting the mask over his mouth. He coughs, struggling to get the air in his lungs. He seems in and out of consciousness, those panicked eyes of his now a stormy, glassy gray as they try to focus on you.

“That’s it, just breathe now,” you coo at him, taking his vitals. His pulse is too fast and thready. You give him a small smile, trying to keep him calm.

An orderly, a doctor, and another nurse rush in. You quickly rattle off numbers and facts regarding his respiratory distress.

“Let’s get him on the bed,” the doctor orders, and the four of you lift him on a count of three.

Elvis flails his hand, gripping your arm. It’s certainly not the first time a patient has grabbed you out of fear, but it is the first time you’ve ever felt a jolt of electricity running through you from it. Looking in his eyes, the terror you see there gives you pause.

He’s just a man, you think. A very frightened young man.

And he wants comfort. Care. So, despite wanting to throttle him earlier, you hold his hand. He clings to you as the team tries to stabilize him. Your touch seems to settle him a little, despite the way his eyes flutter and he still gasps for breath.

You all manage to get him breathing better, but he won’t let go of you. He starts to panic again every time you try to move away, throwing his vitals into a tailspin. As weak as he may be, that strong guitar-playing hand of his has you in a vise-like grip. The doctor looks at you judgmentally, and you make it clear that you have no idea why this is happening, that you’d rather not be relegated to hand-holding duty. But since his vitals are better holding your hand, the doctor nods his okay.

Give the VIP patient what he needs, is the clear message.

Elvis stabilizes. The room clears, and you stand at his bedside, waiting for him to fall asleep, to relax, to release you—anything that will allow you to leave and get back to work and forget the last half an hour ever happened. His eyes are closed, but every time you try to slip away, he just pulls you back. You try not to sigh audibly, to let your frustration show. You are usually much more compassionate and professional, rarely letting patients get under your skin. But Elvis…well, he seems to bring out an unwanted side of your normally mild and shy self.

He’s not consciously trying to be bothersome like he was earlier; he’s much too scared and out of it for that, you reason.

And at least this is better than cleaning bedpans, you chuckle, finally deciding to sit on the edge of the bed and make yourself a little more comfortable. You take this somewhat surreal moment to really look at him.

He is truly beautiful. There is an almost angelic innocence about him with his pale skin and high cheekbones, the way his cheeks are somehow both full and soft, but his jaw chiseled at the same time. His lips are pillowy and full, though nearly colorless now due to the lack of oxygen. His hair gleams, a deep, golden chestnut—a far cry from the rebellious black locks he was known for at the height of his fame a few years ago. With his straight nose and fanning, long lashes, it seems as though he was carved in stone by the masters and brought to life somehow.

Your heart skips, quite involuntarily.

Of course, there are imperfections. He’s got a day’s worth of dark stubble growing and you can see places where his skin is mottled from what was probably youthful acne. The circles around his eyes are too dark and…

I am really reaching here, you think. No, you are quite at a loss because even his “imperfections” add to his beauty.

Okay, so objectively, he’s pretty—when he’s quiet and sleeping. It’s just when he opens his big mouth that he becomes less attractive. This reminder makes you feel better and less like a fawning teenager.

Finally, his hand relaxes, and you slip out of his grasp without him reaching for you. As if trying not to wake a sleeping baby, you very slowly and quietly raise yourself off the bed. But curiosity gets the better of you, halting your leave, and you quietly open his chart at the end of the bed.

Your eyes scan the pages quickly, widening, hardly containing your disbelief. They glance up at the unrealistically beautiful young man in the hospital bed. Though you barely know him, and what you do know of him has already driven you mad, you can’t help but feel a sense of sadness and dread.

It’s the thing all his bravado and beauty distracted you from.

Elvis Presley is a very, very ill man.

Reblogs, likes, comments + feedback are extremely appreciated! Please help support your content creators!

Taglist:

@atombombbibunny @yesimwriting @uselessbutinteresting @mirandastuckinthe80s @dark-as-love

@domaniquessidehoe @im-lame-irl @allybrooke05 @hangmanswhore

@jazmin2211 @kvcssghbjbcd @coldonexx @dudinhahoff @whatstruthgottodowithit @tiredbuthappy @amiets2 @saintmagx

@kvcssghbjbcd @butlersluvbot @babydollie43 @vainbimbo @meladollsims @wstelandbaby @dre6ming @normatural @ash-omalley @xcallmetaniax @galvz-42 @thejezebel @fullmetal-falcon @robinismywife @dre6ming @seaweedbrain00 @amiets2 @mslizziesblog @heisatroubleinapinksuit @calusussss @dont-feel-so-good-peter @rainydayz101 @pizzaisrelationshipgoals

@liaaacantwrite @kittenlittle24 @kaitaesupremacy @butler-trouble @eliseinmemphis @russian-soft-bitch @tattywood

@sassanoe @re3kin @thella @suspiciousmidge @hiddlepiddlediddlewiddle @carolinesbookworld @juggernort @aesthetic-lyss @stitchattacks @donnamarie23 @ab4eva

@fic-over-cannon @lacyluver @littlebitofgreen @paigevis @godlypresley @bugg06 @xhannahbananax03

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toasty-self-shipping · 2 months

Text

the best wingman!..or not

guess finally overcome their fears of posting fics this is something I had in mind last year so I’m happy to post it publicly!

the two brothers stand across the street looking at the music shop where their friend Harmony works and lives at but they are not there to buy instruments instead Mario wants to ask harmony out for a date! but the plumber got cold feet and is a little nervous to go in

“Well why are you still standing there bro I thought today was the day you’re going to tell her how you feel!”

Mario looks away

“I’m am Luigi! it’s that I’m scared I might messed it up and embarrassed myself plus her grandpa is there to and I don’t want to get hit by his cane”

Luigi put his hand on Mario shoulder

“look your not going to embarrass yourself Mario trust me I’m your wingman! I go in there with you for support”

Mario nervous face turned into a warm smile

“Thanks now I’m ready to go!”

Mario quickly runs across the street and opens the door

“h-hey harmony! are you here”

the shop was a little quiet until the sound of rumbling came from the back

“Yeah I’m here!”

harmony open the door

“sorry about that I was putting some saxophones up in the storage room but my cat buttercup saw a mouse and decided to chase it and knock some stuff over”

she let’s out a small giggle

“So what brings you here today Mario usually Luigi be with you”

Mario eyebrow rise up

“Uh what are you talking about Luigi right here-“

Mario looks around and didn’t see him until he looks at the window and sees Luigi giving him a thumbs up”

“idiota”

Mario clears his throat

“well nevermind that so I came over to ask you something that has been on my mind for a while”

Mario turns his head trying to his blushing face

“Sure what is it”

Mario takes a deep breath and grabs Harmony hands

“we been knowing each other for a couple of years now and during those years I started to slowly fall for you at first I thought it was some silly puppy love but after hearing your laugh and seeing your smile that puppy love turned into actual love so I was wondering would you like to go out on a date with me”

harmony was flustered trying to figure what to say

“sorry if that was weird I can understand if don’t-“

“N-no! I do wanna go on a date with you!”

Harmony quickly hugged Mario and gives him a kiss on the nose

“ever since I first met you I been having the same feelings to tho I was nervous because I thought you see me as a friend but I’m glad you finally confessed”

Mario laughs

“well I’m glad both of us were thinking the same thing man Luigi going to be so excited when I-“

Mario soon felt a pain on his head and hears a certain voice he didn’t want to hear

“WHAT DID I TELL YOU COMING IN MY SHOP AND FLIRTING WITH MY GRANDDAUGHTER”

Harmony grandpa started swinging at his cane at Mario

“ow! ow! ow!”

Harmony quickly picks him up away from Mario

“papa stop! your hurting him!”

Luigi stands across the street watching the madness from a distance

“yep I’m totally the best wingman!”

reblogs are really appreciated

#sorry I know it’s crony 😭#toasty fics #self shipping #self shipping community #self ship fic

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mirkwoodshewolf · 1 year

Text

Gamer’s rage; Rocket raccoon x gn! reader

*Author’s note*

Okay so this is a combined request for an anon and @itsscromp but first I must apologize because I no ABSOLUTELY NOTHING about video games, I did some minor research for Call of Duty so if there are any COD fans out there and I’ve f-ed it up about what the first game does, I’m sorry because I’ve never played it and nor any real video games for that matter (my last video game was Bratz Rock Angels).

Not really any warnings just gamer rage, swearing, and gun violence (both video game and in the story. C’mon it’s Rocket guys what’d you expect?)

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queen-paladin

@queensdivas

@gay-and-ready-to-cry

@austynparksandpizza

____________________________________________________________

Rocket and I sat a few feet apart from each other but refused to look at the other while Peter was pacing in front of us and the rest of the Guardians were scattered throughout the ship.

“Okay, can you please tell me why the hell the ship looks like a bomb went off in the southern deck?”

“As him!” I snapped.

“Ask me! You’re the one who had the blasters in your hand!” Rocket yelled at me.

“Well I wasn’t the one who threw the actual bomb!”

“Well how else was I gonna stop you from acting like a psycho!”

“You know what?!”

“What!?”

“ALRIGHT ENOUGH!!” Peter screamed at us to stop. “I don’t care who started it or who used what, I just want to know why the hell you guys blew up my ship!?”

“I am Groot.” Said Groot.

“Wait what?” Peter asked.

“I am Groot.”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal.” Said Rocket. I laughed sarcastically as Rocket snarled at me baring his teeth.

“I let you take one round and then when I start winning, you go ballistic!”

“Oh bull!”

“Hold on, you mean to tell me the reason you guys nearly destroyed my ship and aren’t speaking to each other is over a stupid video game?!”

“Not just any game Quill, it was a battle for one’s right to destroy the villainous monsters that were the pansies.” Drax said in awe.

“Nazis, Drax. They were called Nazis.” I corrected him.

“Like the ones Steve fought.” Mantis added.

“Well he mostly fought off Hydra officers but I guess they’re the same thing. They were both douchebags of history.” I said. I guess you’re wondering just what the hell is going on, well let me take you back to how this whole mess began.

*Flashback*

On our base at Nowhere I was going through the itinerary supplies for the Nowhere Trading Company (or NTC as I called it). I was going through the black market goods we managed to swipe from some pirates just 4 quadrants from reaching Xandar’s atmosphere.

I opened up the crate and looked inside to see that it was filled with some classic video games back on Earth.

“Holy shit.” I reached in and grabbed a Spyro the Dragon (yep the first ever Spyro game). “God I hadn’t seen this game since I was a kid.” I continued to dig through and found Crash Bandicoot: The Huge Adventure. “Oh my god, they got almost everything in here.”

The first Mass effect games, the original Super Mario Bros, Mario cart, Sonic the Hedgehog, but I let out a gasp as I quickly dug through the games and pulled out my all time favorite game and felt my arms shaking with excitement.

I ran across Nowhere with the game in my bag, I just had to find him there’s no way he’d ever refuse a game like this.

“Rocket! Rocket! Yo Rocket answer me! Rocket! ROCKET!!”

“Geez I’m right here what’d you blow a gasket or something kid?” Rocket said. I quickly turned to see him remodeling one of the buildings into our storage units, he lifted his goggles over his head and set the blow torch down. I bounded on the balls of my feet excitedly. “You sure you don’t need to use the bathroom kid?”

“You’re not gonna believe what I found.” I sung out. He sighed and came down from the building and walked up to me.

“Alright I’ll bite. What’d you find?” I reached into my bag and handed him the game still bouncing excitedly. “Call of Duty?”

“The first Call of Duty game ever made. No other game could beat out the overrated game that is Halo but this game doubled not only in sale ratings but graphics and story as well.”

“It’s another mind-numbing game. I swear you and Groot are cut from the same cloth when it comes to video games.”

“Come on! I’ve got a feeling you’re really gonna like this one.”

“Not interested, now if you don’t mind I gotta get back to work before Quill gets on my back about finishing this storage unit.” He handed me the case back and climbed back up the stairs. That’s when I said.

“You get to shot at people and blow things up.” He stopped midway up the stairs and turned back to me and said lowly.

“I’m listening.”

“Like Halo, this is a first person shooter game. That’s when you become the character, not just you controlling a character like most video games are. And this takes place during a real life war that happened in my world, the one that Captain Rogers fought in, and you get to shot and kill all the Nazi soldiers you want.”

“What about the blowing things up? You said I could do that right?”

“Oh yeah. Trust me Rocket, this was the first Mature rated game I played at my friend’s house and my god did we blow some shit up.”

“Well screw Quill then! If he wants this storage unit done, he can do it himself. Now uhh—how do we play this thing exactly?”

“There’s gotta be a game station in one of the other boxes where I found this along with a bunch of other games. C’mon.” we raced back to my station and we looked through a couple of more crates until Rocket game across the one that was filled with a bunch of various gaming stations. “Ah-ha! Here it is, PlayStation. Just what we need!”

“Think I might have the perfect place for that.” I followed Rocket back to our ship and that’s where we had set up the game console in the Southern levels of the ship where we had all the monitors and TV/Radio transmitters.

Rocket hooked up the PlayStation to the monitors and after a few switches and wire sparks (better not to ask about that part), once I turned on the game the PlayStation opening rang off and showed off its logo.

“Oh yeah! Alright Rocket hop and squat and prepare to get your virtual ass kicked.”

“Please, I’ve been firing guns since you were in diapers.” He said as he grabbed his controller and I took mine and went through the menu to choose our battlefield.

“Well shooting people in real life vs. virtual works a little differently. But I’ll take that bet there Rocket.” Once the menu showed our options and the title card of the game, I selected my character while Rocket chose his. Next I chose our mission and once we were ready, I scrolled down to the BEGIN MISSION option and the screen went black as it began to load.

The first round of our mission obviously I won but it gave Rocket a chance to learn the ropes of the game and how it worked. So when the next round came in, he got the upper hand and killed me.

“Alright kid, final round is mine for the taking!” Rocket exclaimed.

“Don’t get cocky Rocket just cause you won this round.”

“Please I got this game in the bag.” He selected our final mission and we began our mission. Guns were fired and each side of our screens went red with blood until I came out on top and won the final round. “WHAT THE—”

“HA! In your face Rocket! I am the winner! I am the winner!” I said doing my little victory dance.

“No fair you cheated!”

“Yeah right you just can’t admit that when it comes to virtual shooting you suck at it.”

“I’ll show you who sucks at shooting!” he soon pulled out his gun and fired a warning shot right at me. I flipped over the shot and ducked down.

“What the fuck man!”

“You wanna say I suck again!? Go ahead and say it.” He challenged me. I took out my own gun and fired it at him as he jumped out of the way.

“Warning shot. Next one wont miss.” I warned him.

“You better hope not.” Next thing I knew, the two of us were shooting at each other trying to kill the other, throwing insults at the other for a terrible shot.

Which leads us back to the present.

*Flashback ends*

At the end of our story, Peter pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head disappointedly.

“So can you tell a certain Terran that they’re an arrogant asshole and shouldn’t mess with a true professional?” Rocket said.

“Only if a certain rodent knows that real life shooting and virtual shooting aren’t the same. And that they’re a sore loser and should just suck it up and put on his bog boy pants and accept that someone else can be as good as he is.”

“Like I’d ever admit that!”

“You know you are such a pest you know that!?” I snapped.

“Takes one to know one don’t you think Flea!?”

“I told you to never call me that again!”

“I’ll call yah whatever I want and right now you’re a flea!” I roared as I pounced on him and the two of us began to rumble with each other. Growling and screaming at each other until Peter forced us apart.

“ALRIGHT! I’M CALLING A TIME OUT!!”

“No Quill. I was placing all my money on (Y/n) to win.” Drax said.

“Drax what have we said about placing bets on each other to die whenever a fight breaks out?” Peter said.

“You really suck the joy out of everything. Groot do not take my money, the bet is on halt.”

“I am Groot.”

“After these two, I’m having a talk with the both of you.” Quill released us and began his reprimanding. “You two wanna act like children? Okay then. Go to your room and I don’t wanna see the two of you until you learn to make up and be friends again.”

“As if.” We both said as he still refused to look at each other.

“If not I could always use some target practice dummies.” Nebula suggested.

“We’re not dummies!” we both exclaimed.

“Then it’s your choice. An hour or so in isolation together, or one of you is going to be holding this on top of your heads.” She pulled out a crushed piece of tin and held it out to us. With no other choice we grumbled as we walked away. Shoving each other nonchalantly as we grumbled insults at one another.

*3rd Person POV*

“Ugh I swear those two. Being as good friends as they are, when they fight oh god. It’s literally like trying to separate two dogs who want to kill each other. But thanks for that reverse psychology move on them Nebula, I appreciate it.”

“That wasn’t a psychological move.” She said. Everyone went silent before one by one each decided they needed to be somewhere other than where they were right at that moment.

*My POV*

One bad thing about sharing a room with your (ex) best friend, is having an intense argument and having to be in that same room with your (ex) best friend. Rocket and I sat back to back of each other with our arms crossed and a permanent scowl on our faces in dead silence. The air so think with our anger it could be cut with a knife. But after a while of cooling down, I uncrossed my arms and said.

“I’ve heard how the video games have turned people crazy, but I didn’t think it’d ever happen to me.”

“So you finally admit it?”

“What I’m trying to say asshole, is that I don’t want our lifelong friendship to end over something so stupid. We were both in the wrong.”

“Yeah. Guess you’re right kid.” Finally we turned and looked at each other and I said to him.

“Maybe it was better I didn’t find those stupid games.”

“Now don’t go blaming yourself kid. You were hit with uhh—what did you call it again, nausea?”

“Nostalgia.”

“Right yeah that. Hell if I had a life like yours before I was made, I’d be doing the same thing.”

“I’m sorry Rocket, for nearly trying to shoot your brains out.”

“And I’m sorry (Y/n). For calling yah flea and for…..being a sore loser.” We smiled softly at each other before I hugged him. He tensed up at first but relaxed and I felt his arms wrap around me.

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multi-fandomsfreak · 4 months

Note

MX x Reader Prompt

Hey, it’s me again! I hope you had a great a Christmas (If you do celebrate.) and an even better new years also did you like Mario’s Madness V2? Also what are your favorite song(s) from the mod. Personally I liked Last Course and Starman Slaughter the most.

Anyways I’m getting off track… 👀 😅

So, imagine this.. Boyfriend, Reader and Girlfriend are all dating (Or they can be friends if you don’t like poly relationships.) but when we they get the cartridge for the cursed Mario game. (Mario’s Madness..) They go through mostly everyone but then they get to MX’s stage. MX is looking to kill the group but he takes interest in Reader and tries to take them away from Boyfriend and Girlfriend and claim them as his own but Boyfriend and Girlfriend ain’t having none of that so they try their best to keep reader away from MX.

You can decide how the ending goes.. (Please use She/They pronouns..)

Anyways that’s it.. I hope you’re doing okay and please remember to take care of yourself. 🫶🏽🫶🏽

MX Taking An Interest In Reader

Hey there thanks for the ask!

I did have a great Christmas and New Years (besides my injury of course). Honestly I really loved Mario’s Madness V2. It’s one of the best mods out there. My favourite songs from the mod is MX’s 2nd song Demise (totally not bias or anything lol) but I also like Paranoia and Dark Forest.

Also I did friendship for this ask hope you don’t mind. Don’t have anything against poly relationships I just thought it would be best for this scenario. ~J/Blaze

Pronouns: She/They

Warning: ⚠️Kidnapping + Harm Done To Reader + Mentions Of Murdering⚠️

Requested: Yes/No

Characters: MX + BF + GF

Proofread: ❌

Credits: Art by Deadtos on DeviantArt + Banner by Kaileyfln on Pinterest

———————————

- Honestly, how the fuck did you get yourself in this situation? Well I’ll tell you how. You see your friends BF and GF invited you over to hang out and how could you resist saying no to the lovely couple so you immediately headed over. At first it was a bit silent due to the three of you not knowing what to do, then eventually one of you brought up playing a game. So you decided to order a random Mario game and just like that it immediately arrived. Being full of excitement, BF immediately opened it only for the three of you to find a cartridge which had some substance on it and had the word 'MARIO' in all capitals.

+ All three of you gave each other a confused look wondering what was up with the cartridge “Maybe it’s some new design?” You spoke up although it was a weird reasoning it was the only thing you can think of “yeah I guess so?” BF said in response to which GF shrugged her shoulders “Let’s just get this shit over with” she sighed as went back to sit on the couch with you joining her while BF went to set up the console and honestly that’s all you remember. The next few seconds happened so fast. First you saw BF next to you then he was gone then the same happened to GF then eventually you felt a hand roughly grabbing onto your shirt and dragging you into the TV to which you managed to find both of your friends there.

- That’s how you got dragged into this mess, meeting a range of disturbing people based on the classic super hero Mario and his friends. Luckily thanks to BF and his rapping skills he managed to get all three of you out of the situation however something worse was about to happen.

- The three of you had recently beaten the previous EXE and were on your way to go face the next one you were faced with a Mario look-alike and with everything that has happened so far the three of you knew what was going to go down. You were already facing another one however something felt different. Obviously you could tell he had insane bloodlust for all of you but you started to notice something. You couldn’t tell if it was your eyes playing with you but you could swear that whoever this was, he was staring at you. Like he was curious about you. Eventually both BF and GF had started to notice this thing being oddly creepy around you. Obviously they were both worried because they didn’t know what may or may not happen to you.

- Eventually shit hit the fan as the being then revealed his true self as MX and to say you were overwhelmed with fear was an understatement. Like sure the others had something that set off some fear in you, you didn’t know why but you felt like this is different. Maybe because for some reason he had an eye on you but you trust BF and he managed to get all three of you this far so you paid no attention to it. MX on the other hand you’ve caught his eye. The only thing that is going through his head is “I’m taking them”. He doesn’t know why but that doesn’t matter to him.

- Even though he knew you were on GF and BF’s side so obviously you were up to something but at the same time he had a feeling you didn’t have anything special going on, just someone who just so happened to get roped into their business and had to suffer the consequences of it. For some strange reason he liked that. He figured he could use you as some sort of bait for the two of them, maybe using this to get to know other things about you and keep you forever bringing despair onto the couple over being responsible for losing a friend of theirs. So with quick thinking and reflexes he managed to quickly snatch you before the rest of you could react.

+ You couldn’t help letting out a slight noise as you felt MX’S tight grip around you, holding you like a doll before bringing you close to his face. That damn sadistic smile on his face as he eyed you up and down causing shivers being sent down your spine “…well aren’t you a fascinating human” he eventually spoke up paying no attention to BF and GF who now started talking to him demanding that he let you go “Hey, leave her alone she’s not the one your fighting here!” BF stood in front like he was going to physically fight him despite the massive size compared to him and MX “Yeah you heard him let [Name] go” GF preparing herself to save you not caring about what might happen to her “[Name]…so that’s what your called” MX chuckled to himself “I’ve got to say it definitely suits someone like you” You feel yourself physically getting disgusted at the way he was talking to you as finger dragged itself from your face down to your chin forcing you to look at him. Eventually he had enough of being in BF & GF trying to give you back so he took you to a place, planning on keeping you away till he gets rid of the two himself.

- You confused as fuck as to why the hell he wanted you well besides getting rid of the couple but besides that you honestly don’t know why. Should you feel glad that you’ve been chosen? Well to him you should but honestly you didn’t feel it. But you were just glad that he wasn’t trying anything with you, not yet at least. You did try your best to escape from his grip however it felt impossible due to his death like grip on your body, you could feel it almost crushing your body. You couldn’t tell if he actually was trying to kill you or not despite showing some interest in you.

- But surprisingly he actually didn’t try to kill you but it didn’t really change the fact that you didn’t really want to be around him. But luckily for you after a while you couldn’t really tell how long due not being able to tell the time. Eventually both GF and BF managed to find you much to his dismay. He desperately wanted to murder the two of them but at last he finally managed to go along with the gang's little game of rap battle offering you as a sacrifice to him if they lose. However, just like how it went in the game and with the earlier exe’s BF manages to defeat him not only once but twice, getting you back and escaping with some help from GF only to face more exe’s but honestly they didn’t care they were just happy to have you back.

———————————

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