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jwonsoon · 26 days

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Enhypen's reactions to you being super talkative when they're tired ⋆.˚ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

☾ a/n: It has been a minute !!! Me and bff have been so so busy since it's our final semester of high school. But I am here to provide for my delusional folk <3 I honestly wrote this on a whim because I've been feeling extra insane lately with all the work I have to do so ignore any stupid mistakes I make in this. I want to post more on here for sure, senior year is coming to a close soon and me and bff are moving into a new university together so hopefully we'll have time for more posts. Okay enough yapping, go read! pairings: enhypen x g/n reader genre: fluff

cw: kissing (nothing crazy dw), ignore grammatical errors!

JUNGWON

He doesn’t care if his life is on the line, the last thing he’s going to do is make you feel rushed when you’re talking about something you’re genuinely interested in.

He finds you SO cute when you’re mumbling about something that you enjoy !! He gazes at you with his boba eyes nodding along to everything you say

“Oh my god sorry I’m talking so much” you say to him embarrassed at how comfortable you’ve gotten in his presence and how he’s probably so tired

He’ll immediately shake his head no and tell you “keep talking i love listening to you”

Because he’s tired he pulls you into a hug and plays with your hair while you talk.

His sign that he’s tired is when he gets really touchy. Like he is all of a sudden kissing your forehead and playing with your cheeks which is usually a sign for you to call it a day…

JAKE

We all know this guy cannot for the life of him control his sleepiness but he loves you so he makes his adjustments

Its a shame but this guy is NOT !!! LISTENING !!!

He’s cuddling you and you’re yapping away he’s going to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck and just keep going “mhm, i see”

You notice that he isn’t listening so you ask a question to throw him off and he responds with “yeah totally” making you chuckle.

He looks up flustered realizing he just admitted to not paying attention to you.

“Sorryyyyy!!!!” He pouts leaning to kiss you.

“Im listening I just need a minute” he spends that “minute” sleeping on your arm and then he sits up shaking his head like a puppy trying to wake himself up.

Claps, sits up, “Okay! talk! I’m up.”

HEESEUNG

He’s always up fighting his sleep to play video games anyway so he’s the most prepared in situations like these

If he notices your in a particularly chatty mood and he’s sleepy, he will drag both of you out of bed and make sure you’re sitting up so that he isn’t prone to falling asleep on accident

You’re talking and talking and he is giving the same exact energy back!! he will laugh and giggle at everything

When he’s really getting tired he yawns out loud and goes “baby.. im a bit sleepy.. actually no no keep going, just come here”

He’ll open his arms wide for you to lay on his chest while you talk

You notice his eyes are closed so you stop and start getting up only for him to pull you back down and say “just stay here, i like listening to your pretty voice”

SUNGHOON

He is so in love with you. it is PATHETIC!

He is so sleepy too and looks insanely cuddly so whenever you are talkative you lay facing him and talk his ear off while hugging him

He is way too in love to tell you that you need to please shut up because he is SO TIRED so instead he kisses you to ease his tiredness away

“That girl” —kiss “is so” —kiss “annoying” —kiss

“Hoon stopp” to which he kisses you again, mumbling against your lips “I’m listening baby”

SUNOO

No matter how tired he is it fades away when hes with you

You’re always spilling the latest gossip to Sunoo and he eats it up everytime.

“She actually has something against me” you say to which Sunoo responds “how could anyone hate this cute face” pinching your cheeks

You brush his hand away and jokingly roll your eyes and thats all it takes for his cuteness aggression to launch through the roof

He is all of a sudden squeezing you tight going “Why are you so cute you’re just so cute you’re so cute”

He is literally holding you shaking your shoulders while smiling so big going “No tell me!!! why are you so cute??”

“Sunoo you’re scaring me” you say to which he responds “Good! I’m pissed off you’re perfect.”

You guys will literally spend the whole night talking, Sunoo literally forgot that he was tired in your presence

JAY

He is half asleep walking through the door

But! that doesn’t stop him from at least pretending to listen to you

As he’s putting his stuff down you are following him around talking about the ending of the show that you just watched

Hes humming in response and smiling to himself

He stops suddenly turns to face you pulling you in for a hug “Baby I’m so tired today i dont know why….” sighing into your arms

He didn’t want to explicitly say to you please shut up but it was definitely a sign to you to take it down a notch

He’d look down to kiss you on the lips and say “Let’s talk in bed hm?”

When you guys are in bed he lets you lay on his chest and he says “Now tell me all about that show you were talking about”

He will listen to you, or at least try to, but with his fingers playing with your hair you are slowly lulled to sleep.

He'll look at you, smile, kiss your forehead and you will wake up confused as to how he shut you up so quickly.

NI-KI

Riki is definitely a little more honest but thats what you love about him!

“I can see all your teeth babe, what’s got you cheesing?” he says to you as he sits down on the bed

“I have so much to tell you!” you say to him patting the space beside you for him to come and lay in.

“And I have so much sleep to catch up on!” He says mockingly as he lays down next to you. You pout to which he kisses you and says “Go on, talk my ear off”

You start going off on a tangent and he is just looking at you with a boxy smile on his face and laughing at how your facial expressions are so dramatic in comparison to the light hearted story you’re telling

He stares at you with glistening eyes after his 40th yawn in a row

“You know you talk too much, right? It’s a good thing you’re cute” he would say pulling you into a hug

“That’s rude! and I wasn’t don—” you are interrupted by a kiss on the lips

“I promise to listen all day tomorrow, okay? Let’s sleep now?” He says rubbing circles on your back, with his eyes already closed.

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ubercharge · 3 months

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im not sure if anyone asked you yet, but thoughts on the dunmeshi anime?

thanks for asking! sometimes i forget i exist here as a person cuz i just log on to queue random stuff without making posts 💀

it's pretty rare for me to watch an anime without ever reading the manga, and there've been stellar adaptations recently. ONK, kisekoi, BTR, frieren, CSM just to name a few. in a landscape where we're used to being disappointed as readers who have a frame of reference before watching a show, i had very, very high hopes for the dunmeshi adaptations that weren't quite fulfilled.

i'll dump everything under a cut since i actually have a lot to say, sorry if you were expecting it to be brief 😎

the lines in the artistic style are good, nicely translating the characters into animated format. really no notes there. definitely a nicer comparison for char designs between manga and anime vs. tonsuki and tensura who both have incredible manga styles that the anime stumble over (though in the latter's case, i don't think they were aiming for it sadly)

the shading has been fine, but weakened by the colour choices. some of the dungeon scenes (e.g., living armour stuff) are lit with a medium blue which helps to sell the idea of the scene being in a place not lit by fire (and contrasts it with the making camp & cooking scenes), but the lack of dark shading flattens some of these very well-drawn images.

the earlier chapters don't have the same level of detail as newer ones, but the art style is still fantastic - it's expressive with high contrast and shows action and impact perfectly well. manga will often times have a naturally easier way with contrast due to it being in black & white, but i don't think that means anime should just give up on contrast in favour of playing ineffectively with colour.

here's a night shot of fern from frieren. the choices made here allow for the shading to stand out from the flats and give her more definition overall while still being relatively simple (just flats + shading)

when dunmeshi has more "normal" lighting conditions, it does a lot better. similar to fern up there, there's about the same amount of difference between the flats and shadows, so i really wish they did a better job on the dungeon scenes since they're going to have to deal with non-torchlit scenes plenty. i won't argue that the living armor scene certainly has some kind of a sickly, alien mood to it, but tl;dr i think it should've had darker shading if not also being less green. this largely applies to every other blue-green lit scene they've done.

looking at kui's coloured drawings in the ed gives me an idea of what could've been and it makes me sad to lose out on colour choices more similar to that (even if they obviously can't have her level of detail on top of it)

some of the backgrounds haven't been too interesting but some have been good, overall it's probably fine. plus you can only draw and detail repeating bricks so many times before the viewer gets bored of looking at them anyway, i guess.

the animation is really fun and expressive. it's trigger, so they don't keep scenes stiffly on-model when they want characters moving around. this is good because it helps to sell both action and comedy moments!

the music overall i haven't really cared for? the BGM has not been particularly moving, interesting, or memorable - mostly generic. and i've seen too many fantasy shows for my own good, so i might be harder to impress (but i even remember tenken had a good BGM song or two to make a fight dramatic and that show was barely above average at best)

i'm biased not being particularly into bump, so i would've selected a different artist for the OP (i actually did like the bump OP from SxF though, come to think of it). before anyone makes a wisecrack based on what i've watched lately, no it doesn't have to be yoasobi.

i maybe feel the ED song would've been better for the OP, i don't like the largely peaceful bit of the OP with very still visuals. the OP is where you reel people in! it should be an eye-catching hook, representative of what to expect with some extra sauce on top.

the ED is great, total bop. it's a fine time for slower visuals as an enjoyable wind-down from the episode, so less or no animation is no big deal. plus kui's art is absolutely gorgeous! it all perfectly fits that "end of work" fun and lighthearted mood they were going for.

i largely enjoy the voice acting. i would've personally gone for a less "old man" voice on senshi because he's really not that old for a dwarf, but they obviously wanted to make it clear he was the older, wiser, knowledgeable character.

this might be my own personally most blasphemous opinion, but i would've picked a different VA for falin. i want to make it clear i absolutely adore saori hayami - she's incredible and one of my faves. with that said, her voice fits the character, so maybe it's just because i've heard her too often which is not her fault by any means! i love the voices for laios, marcille, and chil.

it seems netflix's subs go off of the official EN TL of the manga, which makes sense, but i've talked about how i don't like it more than ehscans' TL (which is one of the single best TLs i've read for a series, official or otherwise) and that holds true for the anime ("mad sorcerer" is cooler AND less clunky than "lunatic magician"). i prefer less localisation stuff and/or quirkiness in my subs and more direct translation for both manga and anime.

as for the changes/additions they've made to the show, some of them have been alright and some i didn't care for. they really want to sell marcille as the funny joke character which is why they had her being chased by the basilisk instead of having doni & fionil like it was in the manga which was better for the pacing and had good impact vs a funny clip of marcille running back and forth.

i don't dislike when adaptations add or change stuff, but placing them cleanly is important. dunmeshi is already really funny! i don't think it needs help being funnier by reaching for the cheap laugh. when laios sees two people running for their lives from a basilisk and he just goes "wow that's a bad way to run from that monster", it's already lowkey hilarious - all the more so followed by marcille telling mr. monster-know-it-all to go rescue them if he knows what's up and him rescuing them by making himself big and chicken squawking real loud (which embarrasses marcille and chil, but c'mon guys, at least his idea worked!). i feel like the comedy in laios' funny hero moment is undercut by forcing the marcille butt of the joke moment in the anime.

dunmeshi is already incredibly good at just about everything it does. i feel if an adaptation wants to add or change something, it's often better amplifying a strength or shoring up a weakness in the source material. BTR adds a lot to the source (not hard considering the source is a 4koma) and makes already funny things even funnier. the "we should all get social media" scene is elevated to iconic status with the visual of bocchi glitching out + the VA's inhuman screech. i can't say where i'd really want to change or add stuff to dunmeshi, since it really feels so good and whole, but i'm sure there's room in the process of translating manga panels to animated scenes, and i think the direction overall could've been better (comparing most shows to BTR isn't fair i know because BTR is directed & adapted so well it's hydrogen bomb vs. coughing baby territory)

i've mostly said negative stuff, but i don't want it to sound like i hate or even really dislike the adaptation. i think when it comes to a series you really love, you want to see the best adaptation possible within reason, and the disappointment of stuff not being quite what you were hoping for is amplified by so many other recent adaptations being so good.

dunmeshi does not have a bad anime by any means, but a lot of that is thanks to the source material's quality. if they do another season, i hope they have more time/budget/whatever because i think a lot of the parts it does have are good parts! but in this case, i wasn't hoping for good; i was hoping for great.

trigger makes great shows with wacky storylines (in some ways, the same one wacky storyline, but that's a different discussion) and dunmeshi, being directed by someone who's worked on a bunch of trigger stuff (largely sci-fi leaning), maybe needed some more direction from people who've worked on fantasy stuff? i can't say for sure what would've been enough to take the show over the top, but though i generally don't hope for much from adaptations, i really did have higher hopes for this one than it ended up achieving.

overall it seems i'll end up scoring the show a 7 or 7.5 when i finish the season, though there's certainly still room to wow us all. whatever you feel about the adaptation, whether you liked it or not, whether or not you've read the manga, feel free to comment your thoughts below or in my inbox. let's keep it free of manga spoils for anime-only watchers, though!

#sorry this is REALLY long #ask answer #anon #i've been busy with TEA in ffxiv but i'll try to post more!

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4kominato · 2 years

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𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝟚: ℭ𝔥𝔯𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔪𝔞𝔰 𝔈𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔢

A/N: oh my gosh im so late posting this 🙃🙃🙃 anyways its Christmas Eve yaay. sorry if ya'll aren't into pokemon... Eevee is a pokemon lmao but idk i just thought itd be cute bc Christmas Eve... even though its a bad pun ... im sorry -kuri

ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: Tadano Itsuki x GN!Reader

𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕣𝕖: Fluff

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 1,012

You awoke to an empty bed, the wintery weather outside leaving the bedroom feeling extra empty and cold. Maybe he wanted to squeeze in some practice time with Mei in the early morning hours before fulfilling the Christmas Eve plans he’d made with you, you thought. So in the meantime, you decided to make some breakfast and coffee so he’d have something to eat once he got back.

“Tadaima! (ただいま: I’m home)” The voice of your lover sounded from the front door just as you finished plating the food.

“Okaeri (おかえり: welcome home),” you greeted, popping your head out of the kitchen to see Itsuki holding a huge Christmas gift bag with green and red tissue covering the top. “What’s that? Where’d you go? I thought maybe you went to practice with Mei-san.”

“I went to pick up your Christmas present,” he answered, holding the bag out to you, “Merry Christmas! You have to open it now.”

“Wait what?” you questioned with a puzzled look on your face as you took the bag from him, “Shit, it’s heavy… why do I need to open it now?”

“Because you have to. I have more stuff in the car, but you have to open this one first.”

“…But why?”

“Just open it,” he whined, helping you to carefully put the bag down on the living room floor.

“Fine, fine,” you finally gave in, seating yourself in front of the gift and yanking out the tissue. Peering into the bag, see a plain white cardboard box with a handle, so you pull it out of the gift bag to see holes punched out around the top half or the box and the name of your local animal shelter printed on the sides. “No… you didn’t!” you gasped, placing the box back onto the floor and fumbling to quickly open it up, “Oh my god, Itsuki!”

At the bottom of the box laid a fluffy, orange tabby kitten that was fast asleep, curled comfortably into a little ball. Reaching inside, you cupped the little ball of fur into your palms and carefully lifted it out before cradling it into your arms. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

“Boy.”

“I’m gonna name him Eevee,” you announced, scratching him lightly behind the ears with your index.

“Eevee?” Itsuki ridiculed, “Eevee doesn’t have stripes. His name is Tora (とら/虎: tiger).”

“Tora?! Tigers aren’t fluffy,” you snapped back.

“Yeah, but he has stripes,” he puffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“He’s my gift! So I’m naming him Eevee, because he came home on Christmas Eve, and because he’s fluffy like Eevee.”

“Ugh, fine!” Itsuki groaned, finally giving up on the names as he stood up to grab the other things from the car that he’d mentioned earlier. He’d bought a litter box, cat tree, food and water bowls, a little hut, kitten food, and some toys, so you helped him with carrying everything into the house and setting it up.

You’d left Eevee on the couch to sleep while the two of you set everything up, but just as you finished, you noticed him stretching out of the corner of your eye, so you decided to check up on him and maybe if his energy was up, you’d play with him a little bit too.

“Eevee,” you called in a high pitched voice as you crouched down in front of the couch where he’d been sleeping. He gave you a little meow in response and curiously approached you to sniff your fingers before rubbing his cheek up against them.

“Okay, what about Fluffy?” Itsuki suggested, crouching down next to you.

“You’re still on about the names?” you groaned, “I already told you I like Eevee.”

“How about Ginger?”

“No.”

“Pumpkin?”

“No!”

“Milo?”

“Why are you so against the name Eevee?!”

“Because he doesn’t look like Eevee!”

“So what!? He’s Eevee because it’s Christmas Eve I said…” You pouted as you continued to pet him.

Noticing your depleted mood, Itsuki started to feel bad that he had made such a huge deal over something as small as the name of your own kitten. There wasn’t really much point in arguing anyways because ultimately, since he’s your cat, you had the final say in what his name would be.. “I’m sorry,” he spoke shyly, but still, he scooted closer to you and slung a comforting arm over your shoulders, “You’re right. He’s your cat, so if you want him to be called Eevee, he can be Eevee. I shouldn’t have prodded so much, I’m sorry.”

Staying mad at him was tempting, but you honestly appreciated everything else about his gift; it was the best you’d get this year for sure, so on the inside, you knew it wouldn’t be worth it to hold a grudge over such a frivolous thing. “It’s okay… let’s just forget our dumb little argument and move on, okay?” you offered, turning to face him with a small smile.

Leaning in, Itsuki pressed a soft peck to your lips before returning your smile. “I like that idea.”

“So… we’re calling him Eevee,” you stated as you reverted your attention back to your new furry friend, who seemed to be growing livelier by the second. A silence followed to which you frowned momentarily until you turned to see that Itsuki had gotten up to grab some of the cat toys he’d purchased earlier that morning.

“Eevee!” he called as he brought them over, shaking one of them over his head. Eevee’s eyes dilated at the sight of the frilly strings flailing above him, and so he started to jump and reach at them in an attempt to catch them. It warmed your heart to see your two babies playing happily together, and you were extra grateful that Itsuki had finally accepted “Eevee” as the name of choice for your new family addition. Despite being named after a pokemon, “Eevee” would always be a reminder to you of the special day that he brought light to your little family of now, three, on one fine Christmas Eve.

#4kominato events #4kominato’s holiday countdown #christmas #daiya no ace #ace of diamond #tadano itsuki #daiya no ace itsuki #daiya no ace fanfic #ace of diamond fanfic #tadano itsuki fanfic #daiya no ace itsuki fanfic #kuri's writing

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getsojaded · 3 years

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chemistry || calum hood

word count: 3.8k+

warnings: mentions of weed, swear words, mention of injury, food & the slightest bit of sex talk

a/n: hey twt moots ;)) anyways, this is inspired by this post! i hope u all enjoy <3

It was about 11 pm, and I had just finished taking an unnecessarily large amount of notes for chemistry class. With a sore, shaky hand and a vision that was starting to go blurry, I had finally finished ten pages. Who knew that there was so much information about 5 organic compounds?

I yawned in my seat, stretching my arms out and removing my glasses. I was more than thankful that I can call it a night, and walked towards my bathroom to get ready for bed, which took a good 30 minutes. It usually doesn’t take me that long, but fuck, I was exhausted this whole day. After all my skincare was completed, I walked back to my bedroom and hopped into my bed, prepared for a well deserved rest. After slouching for a good three and a half hours, comforter and pillows had never felt so good against my body.

Just as I was about to fall asleep, I heard a loud ding! from my phone and I opened my heavy eyes, which immediately annoyed me. I ignored the first one and tried to go back to sleep, but one ding turned into six and I couldn’t take it anymore. I angrily ripped the covers off my body, sitting up right after reaching for my phone on the nightstand beside my bed.

6 New Text Messages from: calum hood

hey wyd rn

can you do me a favour

i need your help

im at this party right now and i’m about to get high as fuck but i forgot about our homework for tomorrow and i was wondering if you could do them for me

you don’t even need to make them look pretty like how you do it just take down the important shit

please

“What the fuck?” I whsipered to myself as I looked at my phone. “Who does this bitch think he is?”

to: calum hood

are you fucking serious right now

from: calum hood

please i’m really sorry LOL i completely forgot about it

i know your smarty pants finished it the second you got home please

i’ll literally buy you starbucks tomorrow morning

As much as I hated to admit it, his last text message kind of convinced me. I was a sucker for coffee, and could really stop spending money on it every morning. But was I really about to lose some more sleep just to do the party boy’s notes? I barely know this kid anyways. How’d this guy even get into college?

to: calum hood

is it gonna be a venti

from: calum hood:

if that’s what you want, sure

I knew I was going to regret this decision, but I threw on my glasses and put my hair up once again, walking towards my desk. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I sighed out, opening my laptop and gathering my supplies together. I unlocked my phone, seeing that the time was 12 am. Am I doing this for coffee or am I doing this because he’s attractive and I couldn’t really say no to him? I groaned and leaned my head on my desk, texting him back.

to: calum hood

i hate you so much

get me a venti iced white mocha no whip and an extra espresso shot

actually no make that two extra espresso shots cause bc of your dumbass im staying up

from: calum hood

i gotchu angel

thank you so much, see you tomorrow :)

“Fuck off with the petname and the smiley face,” I angrily cursed at my phone, picking up my pencil and beginning to write another ten pages of notes.

“I hate this bitch,” I said, throwing my pencil onto my desk and slamming my laptop shut. The time was now 3:45 am and tired was an understatement for me. I crawled into bed, falling asleep almost immediatly, hoping that these 5 hours of sleep will give me enough energy to get through class tomorrow.

“You have got to be fucking joking me,” I mumbled, reaching over for my phone to turn off the alarm. I was definitely not a morning person, and the fact that I didn’t get at least 7 hours of sleep meant that I was not going to be in a good mood today.

I slowly crawled out of bed and began trudging towards my bathroom, seeing I had gotten a text meesage from the man himself. I rolled my eyes seeing his name pop up, opening the conversation between him and I.

from: calum hood

goodmorning!

to: calum hood

fuck off

I set my phone aside, getting ready for bed in the slowest way possible. I honestly could care less about what I looked like today, so I decided on a hoodie and sweatpants. I went back into my room and packed my bag with everything I needed, including Calum’s stupid study notes. I threw it over my shoulder, putting on my shoes and walking out the front door, into my car. Thankfully my college was not too far from my apartment, so it didn’t matter if I was running a couple of minutes late.

Parking my car and walking towards class, more and more annoyance filled my body, hoping that nobody would say a word to me, or even better, look in my direction. As I walked into the classroom, I walked towards the empty seats in the very back, choosing the one closest to the wall. I got settled into my seat, leaning the side of my head against the wall, hoping that I’d get the tiniest bit of extra rest.

“The last text message you sent to me wasn’t very nice.” I heard a voice beside me say. I opened my eyes and looked up, seeing the stupid Calum Hood. He was holding two cups of coffee - one for me, and one for him I’m assuming - and was wearing a maroon hoodie, which he actually looked really good in.

“I don’t think you deserve to have a nice goodmorning text, because you are the reason I’m in a pissy mood today, thank you very much.” I responded, taking my coffee from his hand and placing it on my desk. I reached into my bag and took the study notes I wrote for him, slapping it onto the desk beside me.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as our professor began to speak up, indicating that class had begun. “What can I do in order for you not to be mad at me?” I turned to look at him. He had the biggest pouty face I had ever seen, which was absolutely adorable. But I’d never tell him that.

“Just shut up.” I sighed, turning back towards the board, opening my notebook and beginning to take notes.

Not even ten minutes later, a green sticky note caught my eye as I was writing. My eyes gazed towards the sticky note, scoffing at what was written on it.

Pls forgive me :(

I turned towards Calum, who was currently well focused on the board in front of us. I lightly chuckled, knowing he was more than pretending to actually pay attention in this class.

I thought I told you to shut up, I wrote underneath his writing and stuck it back onto his desk, and continued from where I left off. I got maybe 5 words in before I saw the neon green appear back onto my desk. I can’t shut up if I’m not talking.

I rolled my eyes before crumbling the paper in my hand, looking at Calum once again. “You’re distracting me. What do you want?” I asked him, the brunette boy turning his head to me once again.

“For you not to be mad at me.” He responded. “What can I do for you to at least smile at me? Besides telling me to shut up.”

I stared at him with the bitchiest face I could put on, then rolled my eyes and began to take down more notes in my book. First, he makes me write ten pages for him and now he’s distracting me in class. Can he leave me alone for at least five minutes?

“And now you’re not gonna talk to me. Fine, be that way.” He grunted. The two of went back to what to we were doing for the remainder of class.

“That’s all for today folks, I hope you have a good rest of your day and don’t forget to read pages thirty to thirty-five and finish questions one to twenty-seven.” Our professor said to all of the class, which resulted in me grabbing my bag and standing up immediately, wanting nothing more than to just get the fuck out of this place.

Please don’t talk to me please don’t talk to me please don’t talk to me-

“Hey wait,” Calum said and grabbed my hand.

Fuck

“Yes?” I asked him, turning my body towards him as he let go of my hand.

“What’re you doing the rest of the day?”

“Nothing, why..?”

I saw that Calum had the cheekiest grin on his face after I gave him my answer. “As an apology for making you write down my notes, thank you very much by the way, along with making you angry this whole morning, how about we go get breakfast on me, and we can do our homework together, except I will do all the work, and you just copy my answers? How does that sound?”

I thought about it. One part of me just wanted to flip him off, go back home and get the sleep I missed out on last night. The other part of me was actually kind of down for that idea. Free food, free homework answers and I get to hang out with pretty boy? I wasn’t really losing anything here, huh?

“I mean, I would say yes, but I took my car here and also I’m dressed terribly right now, the last thing I need is for more people to see me looking like this..” I trailed off, looking down at my current outfit and laughing lightly. “Babe, you don’t even look bad whatsoever right now. However, if you insist, you can go home and change and I can come get you when you’re ready. Is that a plan?” He asked in response. First angel, now babe? What is this guy doing?

“I mean.. I could do that...but-” “Pleeaaasee?” Calum cut me off, pressing his hands together, acting as if he was praying.

“Ugh, fine, I’ll go with you! I’ll go home and get ready, and I’ll text you when I’m done.” I responded as the both of us walked out of the classroom, towards the parking lot.

“Pinky promise you won’t cancel on me last minute?” Calum asked, extending his arm and putting his pinky in front of me as we reached my car. I hadn’t even noticed that he walked me to my car, which honestly made my heart flutter when I realized.

“Are you kidding me?” I laughed lightly, taking my pinky and sticking it out with his, interlocking it. “Pinky promises mean everything, sweetheart. I’ll see you later.” He responded, winking at me then walking away. Getting into my car, I hit my steering wheel, squealing while I repeatedly hit my head against my wheel. “Fuckin’ angel, babe and sweetheart?! What’s next?” I asked myself, driving back to my place to get ready for this little study.. session? Hang out? Date?

I never noticed how nervous I was to hang out with Calum until four different outfits were placed on my bed, with no ability to choose which one looked best. “Fuck, these are all terrible.” I groaned, flopping onto my bed and closing my eyes. I was interrupted by my phone ringing, seeing that Calum was calling.

“I know you pinky promised that you wouldn’t cancel on me, but angel what is taking so long?” He asked, laughing into his question. “I’m so sorry,” I groaned, getting back up and looking at the outfits I planned on my bed. “I’m having a little wardrobe crisis. I have zero idea what to wear.”

“You could’ve showed up in the hoodie and sweatpants and I’d still find you gorgeous,” He responded, making my heart flutter for what felt like the hundreth time today. This man throws small compliments left and right and it’s kind of driving me crazy. “But lemme see what you got planned out. I’ll make it easier for you.” I responded with an okay, quickly snapping a photo of the clothes that were currently on my bed.

“Okay first off, none of these are bad at all. I think you could’ve chose any of these and rocked all of ‘em. Second, little shirt big pants is always the way to go. I say the second one.” He told me, choosing a white long sleeved shirt and the baggiest light wash jeans I had in my closet. It might’ve been basic, but Calum was right - you really can’t go wrong with a little shirt big pants combination.

“Okay, thank you.” I sighed in relief, taking the clothes into my hands and walking into the washroom to change. “You can come now, I’ll text you my address. I’ll probably be done by the time you get here.”

“Now was that so hard?” He asked in response, causing the both of us to laugh. “I’ll see you in a bit. Bye bye!”

“Bye Calum, see you later.” And with that the call ended. I quickly changed into my clothes, put my laptop in my bag - along with everything else I needed - and slipped my shoes on. Once I finished doing so, I heard a loud honk outside, indicating that he was outside.

Walking out of my house I saw Calum exiting his seat, walking over to the other side and opening the door for me. “Wow, what a gentleman.” I laughed as he closed my door and got into the drivers’ side once again. “You look great.” He told me, his eyes focused on my outfit. “All thanks to you.” I said nervously, as he started the car. “Where are we going again?” I asked him.

“You can never go wrong with IHOP,” He said proudly, with a wide grin on his face. “How’d you know I loved going there?” I asked him, gaining a chuckle from him in response. “Not sure if you knew this, but I’m a mindreader.” He joked, causing me to roll my eyes and laugh in response.

Arriving at the place and ordering our food, Calum and I began to have a little conversation. It started off with an are you still mad at me? which resulted into talks about other classes, finals and parties.

“You’re telling me you’ve never been to a party?” He asked in shock, me shaking my head as I took a sip of the water that was given to me. “Are you kidding me? We’ve been in college for what, two years, and you’ve never been to one?!”

“Yeah, in case you didn’t notice, I go to school to learn and not to party. I don’t ask people to take ten pages of notes for me so I could blaze up, unlike somebody I know,” I responded, Calum looking at me in disbelief. “I cannot believe you just called me out like that. I said I was sorry!”

“Yeah yeah, I know. You’re making up for it with free food and free homework answers, so I decided to get over it.” I responded, laughing. “Also, when are we gonna start doing the questions?” I asked as the waiter came with both of our plates of food, thanking them as we began to eat.

“I mean, we could go back to my place and work on it, if that’s alright with you.” Calum said, his mouth full of pancakes. “Is that your way of trying to get in my pants?” I asked jokingly.

“You’re a fiesty one aren’t you?” He asked, with a simple nod from me in response. “Well to answer your question, no that is not my way of doing such a thing, I’d be much more smooth about it.”

“Oh, so you think you’re slick or something?” “Nah babe, I know I’m slick.” There’s the cocky party boy that I was much more familiar with. I rolled my eyes in response.

“I’m gonna ignore what you just said.. Anyways, I am fine with working on it at your place.” I told him, getting a nod in response. Throughout the whole breakfast, we got to know each other quite well. I learned that he played soccer in highschool, but due to a torn ACL he had to quit. But because of that, he got into music and started playing the guitar. I told him that if there’s enough free time when we finished, he should play me something. He happily agreed to it, saying that I will fall in love with him after I hear his singing. I just roll my eyes at his cocky compliments about himself.

I also got to hear his totally wild college parties that he goes to, telling me about this one time one of his friends’ houses got shut down due to the various noise complaints from neighbours down the block. “you should come join me in one”, He offers, with a “fuck no” in response from me.

“C’mon, they’re not that bad. They’re actually really fun, and everybody’s always so nice.”

“I literally can’t tell you the last time I got high, and the last time I got drunk it was not pretty, I’m retired from that shit.” I said, as he paid for our food and began walking back to his car.

“Oh, so you used to be rowdy?” He asked, the two of us laughing in unison. “High school me was a different story, we don’t talk about that.” I responded. “The things I would do to see that side of you. You gotta go to at least one before you get outta this place. They take a lot of stress off your shoulders for the night.” He told me as we walked towards the front door to his place, which made me laugh at the fact that he tried to make parties seem like a really good thing. A simple Maybe, was all I responded with as we got settled into his apartment, which was fairly clean to my surprise.

We were currently sitting across each other at his dining table, the both of us reading over the textbook and him answering the questions after every section. He worked effeciently, which also took me by surprise. I underestimated this guy a lot, didn’t I?

A good two hours later, Calum had finished all the questions for homework and I had finished copying them down, thanking him for doing such a thing.

“It’s no problem. I had no idea that the notes were ten fucking pages long, you deserve a break after that- wait, you wear glasses?” He asked me, analyzing them.

“Yeah, only at home though. I don’t really like how they look on me,” I replied, taking them off and rubbing my eyes. He took them in his hands and put them back on me, smiling. “They look really cute on you, I like them.” He said, causing me to blush. “What’re you so flirty for?” I asked. Keep these compliments up and I might just fall in love with you before you even sing, I thought to myself.

“Well, with somebody as pretty as you, I gotta slip in a flirty remark every chance I get, eh?” He smirked, taking my hand, and taking the both of upstairs. “Don’t take this the wrong way, my guitars in my room.” He reassured me as we walked inside his room. He took the guitar from the side of his room, and sat on the edge of his bed, gesturing me to sit down next to him.

“Ready to fall in love with me?”

“Try me, Hood.”

He chuckled, playing the intro to Sam Smith’s Leave Your Lover. “Holy shit, I love this song,” I whispered, watching his hands strum the guitar.

He began to sing, immediately amazed by his voice. It was so soft and raspy, I literally could listen to it all day. I closed my eyes, leaning my head on his shoulder. He laughed softly when he noticed, continuing on with the song.

He finished playing the outro, which caused me to open my eyes and look up at him. “So, how was that?”

“It was beautiful, your voice is so pretty.” I responded, smiling at him. “You should drop outta this whole college thing and just become famous.”

“Oh man I wish, but I think it’s too late for that.” He told me, now leaning on my shoulder, which made me want to scream and kiss him. “Did you fall in love with me yet?”

I patted his cheek with my hand lightly. “Not yet Cal, not yet. Stil kinda angry about that whole ten pages of notes thing.”

“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

“Nah.”

He laughed, then took my hand and intertwined it with his, rubbing circles on it with his thumb. “What if I told you I’d be down to do this again, minus the whole ‘let me do this for you today as an apology’ thing?” He questioned, lifting his head from my shoulder and looking at me.

“What do you mean, ‘this again’?”

“I mean picking you up with a coffee before class, bothering you the whole time, getting breakfast with you afterwards, studying together, and then playing a song for you once we get too lazy to finish our assignments.” He replied with a soft smile that made my heart warm and my cheeks red.

“And what if I told you that I’d be down to do those things aswell?”

“Well then my love, I will pick you up on Wednesday at 8:15 with a venti iced white mocha with only one extra shot of espresso, because I won’t keep you up to write more notes. After class, I’ll take us to any place you wanna go. Denny’s? IHOP? Waffle House? You name it. Then, we can go back to my place, study our asses off and then I can play you as many songs as you’d like. How does that sound?” He offered, the biggest smile appearing on my face.

“That sounds perfect.”

“Now if we’re going to be doing this... does this mean I can finally take you to a damn party?”

“Fuck off, Hood.”

#calum hood #luke hemmings #michael clifford #ashton irwin #5sos #5 seconds of summer #calum hood imagine #luke hemmings imagine #michael clifford imagine #ashton irwin imagine

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neo-shitty · 3 years

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toffee!

yeah same, i follow some fic accs that occaisionally post smut and its like mmmmm is the fluff writing enough to balance the posts that gives me finger burn trying to scroll past it? but yeah thats probably the way to go

ah i wasnt there for the teaser but i can imagine that was tantalising. lmaoo yes but to be fair i do have a writing acc called channiesbigheart so... balancing it out? but i absolutely am whipped beyond belief. it was a TRAVESTY how COULD they have. yeah the b sides gave him more lines but they werent the ones that were performed over and over at stages. yessss the line distribution in this album is impeccable, im pretty sure the thunderous stuff was some of their best distribution

hehe i can understand that, sometimes putting someone in a situation so horrible it would be considered a violation of human rights is theraputic, ya know? mmmm the differences are a bit nuts, it was 14 degrees today and in less than a week its going to be 32 or smth. BROOO that would be legendary, i bet theyd treat their artists rlly well and have great music as well ahhh but its a lot of work adn commitment. yES that is a mood if ever i heard one.

its the same in australia as well, sadly, you have people who hold up harry styles and lil nas x for breaking gender roles and wearing make up adn steryotypical womens clothing (and keep in mind i have infinite respect for both of them theyre honestly doing so much for the de-dehumanising of gay people and those who wear whatever they want), and calling the kpop boys gay and other things for doing the same thing, when theyve been doing it for years and gotten no recognition smh its so tragic. yes, anyway YES ONLY 6 MONTHS I AM FOR ALL INTENTS AND PURPOSES A BBY STAN altho i considered myself a fully fledged stay like 2 days after i got into them cos i just spent all day researching and fixating. YES someone said it. it feels like theyre losing a huge chunk of why a lot of people liked their music in teh first place, which was that whole dna, dope, fire mood. and even doing bright songs is fine, liek they should do what they want but i feel liek the western music industry is so fucking toxic that they feel pressured into making these decisions. dont get me wrong, theyre good decisions from a business perspective, theyre getting record breaking sales but still. mmm yeah honestly yg just needs to get its shit together or get out

oooh! not into nct but i see a lot of him, he seems rlly talented. ahh yes another channie ult lmaoo i feel that, my list is growing in leaps and bounds as well. mmm yeah i think i will, im just going to try to save enough money :) mingi appealed to me mostly for the voice (like felix smh what is it with me and deep voiced bois) but also his soft visuals and the whole cutesy thing he has going on i rlly liked. yes i did get into them while he was on hiatus, but im still mostly a casual stan, ill listen to the album when it comes out but i dont think ill obsessively look over everything to do with it, like skz. HAH WE'RE MORE SIMILAR THAN I THOUGHT. lmaooo the thot line describes them perfectly, why are they all so damn attractive. especially seonghwa, like that man looks like a character from a book, cardan greenbriar vibes anyone? mmhmm! his vocals are absolutely insane. ty! yeah im excited altho idk how theyre every going to beat border:carnival, that shit was impeccable. ahh no stress, enjoy teh groups you stan atm!

ahh thank you so much, ill keep that in mind. hehe thats good! hopefully its soon :( ah ty, it means a lot. ill think abt that and hopefully talk abt it a little more :)

ah, no it was inside our gymnasium but to get to the other side of the stage you had to exit the building, go around the back and then enter through the other stage door. ah tysm! im glad too. mmm same, they baffle me. ;n; noo so sad :( ahh, thats um not smth i put on here, but im in high school so make of that what you will :)

thank you! ive done a majority of them, i just have maths, an english presentation and an economic assignment due now so im pretty much home free. yeah i feel like hes the epitome of here for you while being inescapably far away. haha she sounds like one of my friends. lmaooo why is that me. hmmm i feel like youve answered a lot of them in that answer so maybe just ateez, enha, txt and bp? if you stan them? :)

ahhh no problem at all, proud of you for managing to overcome the procrastination! progress! mmm thats good! ahh pls do let me know if you ever decide that, i cant promise i wont cry but do what you gotta do :)

<3 w.a. 🐺

hi! sorry for the late reply, i didn't know how to construct sentences yesterday e.e

yeah sometimes it's the perfect balance! i personally don't like fics that focus mainly on the filth? the plot has to carry the whole fic somehow and the smut is just something to add to the mix. also, i'll follow you on your writing blog! i keep forgetting to do so, damn it.

"sometimes putting someone in a situation so horrible it would be considered a violation of human rights is theraputic, ya know?" putting it this way just silenced me but yes. angst just feels more realistic. it isn't always happy endings irl so i tend to do it a lot.

falling into skz is so easy! it felt like that for me too. stanning them felt like getting sucked into a blackhole. also yes i agree. kpop is nothing but an industry after all and it runs on money so i get why they do what they do as well.

i suggest we not talk about haechan because i will literally not shut up but yes my boy is an ace :( chan is also sooooo easy to love. and the chan's rooms just solidified his place as ult. having something to look forward to every week at a time when my mental health was just plummeting into the depths of tartarus just helped me be stable. oh yeah, mingi's deep voice is indeed sexc. and he has some wack ass duality as well! and i think seonghwa was one of the people i nearly considered as bias just because of his visuals because wow that's one beautiful face. and true, idk how enha's going to beat border:carnival. i don't like all the tracks simply bc of taste preferenceds but i like more than one so i consider that a lot already.

bro that gym should've had some sort of a covered walk :// also i miss being in high school sO DAMN MUCH. but i still feel like i am because time stopped when quarantine started and i was still in senior year at the time.

my ateez bias is wooyoung! it wasn't that much of a shocker to my kpop stan irls because i was a jimin stan for the longest time. enhypen is jake and they kept pointing out that he looked like seungmin sometimes so it's like chan's aussie-ness with a tinge of seungmin (the other guy in my skz bias line, in case i haven't mentioned it). txt is huening kai! i find it hard to believe that he's my age because he looks a lot younger? o.O and he always looks good damn :(( sigh for blackpink it's lisa! i tend to bias the maknaes of yg groups, it's a pattern i've noticed but don't intentionally do!

DON'T WASTE YOUR TEARS OMFG. you can always reach me elsewhere if i like disappear off this blog.

#toff.asks #wild anon 🐺

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peachcitt · 3 years

Text

fanfic year in review - 2020

hey laddies i was tagged by both @miabrown007 and @strangerahne to do this, so without further ado here we go!

1) List of fics completed this year in the order they were finished:

Bone Tea (march) // All These Selfish Feelings (march) // Doomed from the Start (may) // Wouldn’t it be Nice (may) // my favorite set of stairs is the one up to your room (may) // screw the classics, and screw you for believing in them (june) // Friendship Bracelets (june) // Those Benevolent Stars (june) // the dark and the stained glass watchers (july) // Bloodsucker (july) // Messy Advances (july) // Happy Endings, the Sun, and Other Steps to Madness (july) // Guessing Game (august) // Passion Fruit Sunset [zine piece, currently unavailable] (september) // Home Coming [zine piece, currently unavailable] (november) // here (november) // bread and oranges (november) // clarity (november) // burgundy, near black (december) // About Emma Martin (december) // cherries (december) // falling, flying (december) // aloe-infused fuzzy socks (december)

23 fics??? okay well looking at it like this just makes me feel ridiculous

2) Number of words written:

219,184 words (which includes my unfinished fics on ao3 and the wips i haven’t posted)

again looking at it like this just makes me feel ridiculous

3) Your most popular fic:

friendship bracelets - the first in the series of my homoerotic college au zukka fics. honestly? i can’t even say im surprised

4) Your personal fav:

MAN this is hard. okay it’s gotta be a four-way tie between bone tea, those benevolent stars, home coming, and screw the classics and screw you for believing in them but really i could be lying because i wrote so much this year (i guess now last year?) that i was really really proud of

5) Your fav scene:

okay i have a lot of favorites but for right now i’ll say: the scene in chapter 3 of those benevolent stars when adrien and marinette are sitting on the banks of the seine and they talk about their favorite colors and adrien’s soulmate - it’s such a quiet and gentle moment, and because you know that their favorite colors are based off each other’s eyes but only marinette knows that and because you know adrien is talking about his soulmate to his soulmate and she knows it but he doesn’t. it’s full of such beautiful, tragic dramatic irony that i just love so so much

6) A fic or scene that challenged you:

hm okay the last few chapters of bone tea were definitely challenging not only because of, like, the big fight scenes (which, im not really comfortable writing fight scenes) but also because i had take all of the mess of emotions in bt and wrap it all up into a conclusion that needed to be satisfying. the same could be said about happy endings, the sun, and other steps to madness (minus the fight scene part)

writing impure - my changeling jim au fic - has also been a fun challenge because i basically watch trollhunters episodes as i write, examining each line of dialogue and each character interaction and seeing how that scene or relationship would be changed by the fact that jim is a changeling. it was also a little challenging to keep everything fresh and new - especially at the times when the dialogue from the show stayed the same in the fic, but so far, im really really happy with the way the fic is going

7) A line of writing you’re proud of:

off the top of my head are these two lines, both from screw the classics:

It was the ‘Daisy, Daisy, Daisy’s, over and over. Like her name conveyed some sort of deeper meaning that she expected Daisy to be able to understand. Like if she repeated it enough, it would become a sort of prayer that God would listen to, that He would enact to make Daisy put her fists away for once in her pitiful life. It was just “Daisy, Daisy, Daisy” over and over until her name stopped sounding like a name, like a word, and it was just a sound to fill the silence so that neither of them would have to talk about the way Basira’s touch lingered each time she wiped blood away or the way Daisy would always sit so that her knees touched Basira’s even though they were on the floor and there was more than enough room for them to breathe different air.

and

But sometimes Jon was easier than Basira. He didn’t have any of Basira’s softness - he was all edges and sharp lines. His elbows were basically knives, and his hips were edged with broken glass.

the first paragraph i really love because there’s almost a rhythm to it - like poetry - and i love the sound of it and all that it means in the context of the fic.

the second little bit i just love because every so often i think about it and i love the imagery and metaphor and the way it fits jon - in canon and in this fic. in this fic, they’re all in high school so jon is gangly and skinny and bony and in general, he’s just abrasive and a little rude. this description of him i just love (and the way i described him from martin’s pov in doomed from the start; “Jonathan Sims looked, even from a distance, as if he was perpetually smelling something awful. His features, just left of handsome, were marred by furrowed eyebrows and a distasteful frown.”)

8) A comment that touched you:

LITERALLY SO MANY????? the comments on the final chapter of bone tea, telling me that the story was something that they loved and found comfort in, the long comments on any of my fics detailing their exact favorite parts, the comments that were just short jokes that made me laugh out loud - literally i can’t pinpoint one. im just so thankful to have written things that people respond to with such kindness and love

9) Something that inspired your writing:

music!!!!!! i found myself making playlists for a few of my fics this year or listening to specific old playlists of mine for the right mood for a fic, and it’s really inspired me to write

also, as always, my own personal experiences. i thought and felt a lot this year, and i think in every single one of the fics i posted this year, you can probably find a central thought or feeling driving it that no doubt comes from my personal life

10) Your proudest accomplishment (that one scene; finally finishing that one fic; posting your first fic; etc):

finishing bone tea and tying the title to the fic!!!!!!!! finishing happy endings and also tying that title to the fic!!!!!! getting accepted into two different zines and working with two different amazing artists and completing those fics!!!!!!!! literally writing anything at all!!!!!!!!!

11) Do you have any writing goals for the next year?

i think mainly i just want to write, you know? i want to stop putting so much pressure on myself, because this past year i put so much pressure on myself that i was constantly feeling like i was underperforming (which was, like, super untrue, but you know how it goes) so when i wasn’t writing i felt like i was wasting time. i mean, don’t get me wrong, i had so much fun writing and creating all of these things that im so so proud of, it’s just the space in between writing sessions that i want to let myself breathe in. i don’t want to dread thinking about writing for fun anymore because that’s not fun

besides that, i think my other goals are to just continue forward with my unfinished projects - impure, the new wave, the bone tea extras - and to officially start the other two long fic ideas i have for mlb that ive been really excited about for a long while. this past year i wrote a lot of one shots (like. so many. oh my god) so maybe this year i might focus on long projects. who knows though definitely not me it’ll be a surprise for all of us

anyway that’s all!! thanks mia and strangerahne for tagging me!! ive been needing a lot of reminders lately that i have, in fact, written this year, and having to, like, do math and scroll through my ao3 page and all my google docs has been really enlightening so thanks so much for this

i tag: @lnc2, @chatnoirinette, @deinde-prandium, and @rosekasa! y’all don’t have to do this, but i’d love to see how y’all felt about your works this year and also to see y’all love yourselves very much because you deserve it. also literally anyone can do this you can just say i tagged you i don’t mind it’ll be our secret - i highly encourage it because it’s very sweet and very fun to look back on all you’ve accomplished this year

<3<3<3<3

#tag game #GOOD LORD.THIS TOOK ME LIKE TWO HOURS KJFBGLKDFJHLSDIHG:SD #i will admit. most of those two hours was spent trying to figure out my word count akjfghlk #also scrolling through my ao3 and linking all my fics that also took a while #BUT REALLY while i was adding up my word count i just kept on staring at the growing number like ????jfc???????#i know ive been posting about it a lot lately but the fact that i have had the audacity to keep on getting antsy over not writing???#literally im ridiculous. OVER 200k WORDS. LITERALLY SHUT UP THAT'S RIDICULOUS.#and the fact that i wrote so much of those words during a pandemic and going through perhaps one of the worst years of my life???#struggling with personal issues and mental issues and school issues and like. SO MANY ISSUES????? HOW #idk this was just so so validating. also terrifying. god #im scared of myself tbh. i have no idea how i did any of this. i feel like i just. blacked out and now im here and FUCK I JUST FUCKJFHLGJSR #IT JUST SUNK IN THAT IT'S 2021 NOW???????? H O W #like logically i knew 2020 would have to end at some point but like most days felt like fucking decades so ??#god. it's a whole new year now. that's fuckng wild bro #im feeling emotional. it doesn't help that im listening to my favorite band (armors) now and it's the song that always brings me to myknees #EMPTY AND WORN YOU CARRY ME HOME NOW YOU'RE LETTING GO OF ME BROKEN AND TORN YOU CARRY ME HOME NOW YOU'RE LETTING GO OF ME #tell me that doesn't send you into a State. you can't. fuck.#(the song is comatose by armors btw)#SPEAKING of armors when i was typing out the fics i had written this year i realized that two fics in a row were named after armors songs #all these selfish feelings (chlonette; lyric from portland by armors) and doomed from the start (jonmartin; lyric from name by armors)#im literally so lame. and that's fine #also i scrolled up just now to check and i realized that i have FOUR FICS IN A ROW NAMED AFTER SONGS???#man i really wasn't kidding when i said i was inspired by music huh sldjfhgsjfh #also in case you're wondering they're all these selfish feelings and doomed from the start and ALSO #wouldn't it be nice (jonmartin; lyrics from wouldn't it be nice by the beach boys)#and my favorite set of stairs is the one up to your room (adrinette; 11:11 by waterparks)#ANYWAY i should be done with this post now sorry for anyone who is still reading for having to deal with my rambling #and goodnight sweet dreams happy new year ily

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lady-plantagenet · 4 years

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What hasn’t already been said: The Spanish Princess 2

Episode 1: CamelNOT

[Lively Music Plays]

I shit you not... that’s what it said in the CCs.

Tower of London (?)

*Catherine looks at the array of crowns like a museum curator and the proceeds to strut down the halls*

Wolsey: *gives her this strange look which is a mixture between damn girl and the eagle is my spirit animal.

Then Catherine gets fake detained and taken to Henry in what must be a strange variation of the whole Robin Hood/Maid Marian roleplay they historically engaged in.

... did she just call his erhm manhood his kingship? Well that’s original, I’ll give them that. Also funny how Bessie Blount initially looks on in fright... don’t worry girl that will be you soon.

———————————————————————

*the four ladies have a brunch friendship moment together*

I see Blount is among them... I see they are setting her up as Catherine’s friend in order to play up the whole betrayal.

Alright. Jokes aside, I realised how much I’ve played myself. I was inspired by @melusineloriginale ‘s sporks (which if all this TSP episode posts got you in the mood for PG show mockery I urge you to check out here - you’ll thank me later). In truth, Henry VIII’s early reign is a bit too late from my main area of focus for me to make intelligent jokes.

I’ll content myself with just bullet-pointing random thoughts that came into my head, and if some intelligent thought gets through, well that would be the pinnacle. In any case I’ll aim to not parrot some of the stuff that’s already been said, repetition can get annoying.

This image embodies this post, but maybe not the show. I’ve noticed those Starz productions get better by the end.

First Scenes:

- The recap just reminded me how much I will miss Margaret Beaufort in the coming episodes. I know her portrayal was innacurate but Harriet Walter just made everything better.

- They are making such a big deal out of this whole ‘we were crowned together, we rule together’ thing in this episode - it makes no sense. Catherine was an influential Queen but she was definitely no more than a consort and never saw herself as more.

- Ruairi’s new haircut is pleasing to my eyes.

- When she says ‘Abuelo’ it’s super adorable awww

The Ferdinand and Charles V scene:

- Bessie Blount looks so much like Ursula Pole lmao. Also they totally got the Pole children’s birth order wrong and UGH WHERE IS GEOFFREY POLE???

- I like Mary Tudor’s actress and her facial expressions. However, this whole polyglot image they are representing is innacurate. I am fairly certain she knew no spanish and I recall reading a contemporary account which said that she was not very learned.

- I’m pretty sure it would be considered bad luck to prematurely crown your son ‘Henry IX’ while you’re still alive.

- I actually like the whole Grape motif in this episode. It’s probably the smartest thing they’ve come up with so far for this episode. I know a lot of you will be all like ‘there’s no record of Ferdinand being abusive’ but this choice sort of makes sense when you recall Joanna’s treatment. Also I appreciate them for not being tacky and showing flashbacks of more overt abuse eg physical. The sugared grape is also fairly symbolic (the sugar is like a gilding, the grape easily crushable)

- OMG the guy from Garrow’s law is playing Thomas More!

- AND PLEASE PLEASE TELL ME IM NOT SEEING THINGS? Margaret Pole x Thomas More is happening?? Please god that is a historical crackship I am getting behind. Yes. This is what I’m most invested about.

Margaret Tudor and Scotland Scene:

- The whole ironic cutaway to Margaret being all depressed after Charles Brandon’s statement about her charming Scottish king is such a cliché movie technique.

- If this were a more artsy film I would think the whole setup resembling a stereotypical middle-class family breakfast was done on purpose for humorous effects or to create a link with the past. But here I don’t have as much trust in the producers. I think they just failed to capture the time period accurately.

- The modernisms continue: ‘Negassi please stop playing’ idk, there just something so modern about this for some reason ahaha

- Also again, I’m getting tired of all this ‘Catherine is basically queen herself’, ‘Catherine is a political genius’, ‘Catherine Catherine Catherine’ ugh. I don’t think the producers understand that Henry VIII was a very autocratic and traditional ruler. He didn’t make any show of joint-rulership (correct me if I’m wrong).

- The teeth thing is funny, smart and I liked it.

Back to Westminster:

- I like Ferdinand’s actor!

- Also Catherine’s response to ‘who are you loyal to?’ was not that smart. I feel like the producers wanted us to be impressed. What if Spain and England’s interests conflict, ey??

The Joust:

- I care too much for the whole Margaret Pole plotline. I’m so invested.

- I could watch a series of More and Pole just exchanging lines. I love the actors too and this is my hope for this series. The whole frustrated parents is SO CUTE.

- I didn’t know More tutored Reggie, I would be curious to know more.

- The way compton says groom to queen’s stool is freaking hilarious. He looks like a pervert.

- Henry Pole is a darling and must be protected at all costs.

- Oh Christ oh Christ that eyeball shot was just... good job on the special effects guys. Don’t know what the point of that choice was.

- I found the whole armour mentions after interesting, it looked so set up as a PR campaign because Stafford speaking about the armour just sounded like a statement agreed on beforehand ‘should have worn the same’ and the Catherine with ‘steel in the bones’ and Ferdinand’s impressed face (it was him playing them?)

- Am I giving this show too much credit?

- Also whats up with “God save the Queen?”

War Counsel:

- Henry VIII’s actor is quite charismatic in this scene. It’s almost as if Catherine is the hothead and Henry the wise one that speaks less but more significantly. It almost feels like they gender-swapped them.

The Bedchamber:

- Did Catherine breastfeed the baby? I thought it was Anne Boleyn. Doubtful... I’m tired of the trope of ‘you’re a good woman if you insist on breastfeeding the child yourself despite social conventions’. For a feminist show, the writers seem very attached to some 1950s perceptions of motherhood.

- I feel like the age difference between Catherine and Henry is well conveyed.

Scotland Again:

- ‘All the sheep were pregnant’ 👀 oh touché Margaret. oh my. Did she just?

- I know they are playing out this disenfranchised Margaret arc to reinforce how great Catherine and Henry are (cheap technique) and to build up to her involvement in Flodden (innacurate historically but I know what the show will do). But I will say this: the humour is pretty good in the Scottish scenes! But I know it’s unintentionally so... (I highly doubt they wanted us to laugh at Margaret hitting James or calling Alexander a pig).

Westminster and the baby chamber:

- What’s are those red splotches on the babies face??

- Oh that shot of Margaret and silent Reginald :((( it makes me sad.

- And now the Poles are at church! I just love the look of them.

- That scene of Maggie and Catherine was needed, as we didn’t get the best friends vibe much in this episode. The whole thing looked a bit pagan though, but it was nice :)

The whole Ferdinand’s betrayal segment:

- The grape motif again was fitting, him snapping the fruit right before she gets to it even despite her knowing what he’s like and what he’ll do, was a good parrallel.

- I’m tired of hearing of this ‘Camelot’. Even in the novel, Camelot was Catherine and Arthur’s dream and... can we just live it up with Arthur?

- Ursula Pole’s, Bessie Blount’s and Mary Boleyn’s actresses look way too similar.

- I fail to see why Catherine thinks she’s turning into her father... she doesn’t strike me as much of a game-player or subtle two-facer.

- I’m intrigued what will happen with Oviedo and Lina... I feel like they won’t stay in England long.

- He was made knight bannaret... nice... but why does he thank Catherine publicly for this? It was in Henry’s gift that he was made a commoner Knight.. if this transpired irl Henry would have been gravely insulter.

Catherine’s Dead Baby and thereafter:

- Guys. In all seriousness, I don’t think the TV series is trying to imply that Catherine killed the baby with her negligence. I mean, they are so bent on us liking her they wouldn’t do that. It would be a bit too ballsy anyway. Remember the red splotches I mentioned earlier? Could those have been a sign that he was already ill but no one noticed/was in denial?

- The pebbles in hands would have had more emotional payoff if it had been established earlier if you know what I mean. Basically, this episode is too fast and entire arcs begin and end within it which extinguished any build-up.

- Oh man Henry is so sweet in this, how will they build him up as the tyrant he was historically if they keep this up?

Scotland Again:

- I must admit, I don’t like all those nicknames they keep using. But somehow James calling Margaret ‘Meg’ is nice and seems fitting.

- What’s a hermana sister?

England Last Mourning Scenes:

- YOU DID NOT BUILD CAMELOT ughhh

- Why is Catherine giving the speech and not Henry?? It turns out Catherine was more emotional historically then the whole perception of ‘perfect queen of stone’ to which some people hold her. However, I doubt it would have been proper of her to give a speech in such a emotional manner.

Conclusion:

6.5/10

Some of the dialogue was stilted, the costumes are confused as to which era they’re supposed to be (aesthetically distracting) and many other characterisation issues.

I don’t have high hopes for this series in terms of cinematography or art but I sure as hell expect it will be entertaining. So far, everything is just getting set up and I find some aspects promising. As you can tell I am truly excited over how the Margaret Pole plotline. I am also interested in how Henry will be portrayed, with Catherine being so OTT and pushy this episode Im starting to Stan him more. In this show he appears sensitive and serene and kinda... adorable. Kind of like a little brother hanging onto his sister’s skirts.

But in a way that is a disservice to the real historical figure which would not tolerate such a representation. I am very irritated by this whole ‘joint-rulers’ thing which is just sooo innacurate. These STARZ shows have an obsession with showing women turn into men for the purposes of feminism - I see.

Catherine overpowers Henry too often and it sometimes feels like he’s HER consort. Of course, the feminism in this show is schizophrenic as we get the overemphasis of Catherine as a 1950s motherly ideal with the whole breastfeeding angle (“you’re better than other noble woman who would find this beneath them”, “they’re not as motherly as you”).

So the relationship dynamic between Henry and Catherine is a bit off at the moment, but oh well.

Mary Tudor is a bit distracting with her dark hair but I find the actress extremely endearing and promising. I know there will be emphasis on her storyline too and I hope they’ll not be clichéd with it.

#the spanish princess #the spanish princess 2 #lady plantagenet's series reviews #not my best #but I've been ill for most of the week and wanted to get this out before episode 2 comes tommorow #feel free to send me an ask if you you have anything to say #I'd love to see if anyone else thought some of the same things

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 4 years

Text

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 12: The Mirror]

A/N: Hi y’all!! Please enjoy, this is a long one. We’re getting into the exciting stuff now, so I’ll be putting all my creative energy into BYCNL and will hopefully finish up the series within the next month. Thank you so much for your love and support! Each and every reblog/message/comment makes me smile and means the absolute world to me! 💜

Chapter summary: John gets a rap sheet, Roger gets defensive, Y/N gets suspicious, News Of The World gets a headline.

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, drugs, babies, drama, angst.

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii @loveandbeloved29 @killer-queen-xo @maggieroseevans @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @im-an-adult-ish @queenlover05 @someforeigntragedy @imtheinvisiblequeen @joemazzmatazz @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @namelesslosers @inthegardensofourminds @deacyblues @youngpastafanmug @sleepretreat @hardyshoe @bramblesforbreakfast @sevenseasofcats @tensecondvacation @queen-crue @jennyggggrrr @madeinheavxn @whatgoeson-itslate @brianssixpence @simonedk @herewegoagainniall @stardust-killer-queen @anotheronewritesthedust1

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! :)

You’re not late. You’re never late.

And at first that’s okay, it’s more than okay, it’s a relief; because it was too soon to have a baby anyway, less than a year into a supposedly meaningless marriage, a marriage you and Roger never even speak of, a marriage that might have never happened at all—might only exist as a particularly vivid and pleasant dream—if it wasn’t for your freshly-minted British citizenship. At first you greeted each dark, fruitless stain of blood with a casual ruefulness—oh well, one more month of freedom, you would think, smiling a little, worrying not very much at all—content to let that milestone trophy of womanhood, of life, lay undusted and unclaimed in the cluttered pit of your mental oak trunk with a tarnished gold latch shaped like a lion’s jaw.

After four months, you start to notice things. You notice the way Chrissie’s twins have small willow-green eyes that turn down in the corners, just like Brian does; you notice how John’s children have his downy hair and that innate sort of reticence that some people mistake for banality; you notice all those pretty, anonymous young women pushing strollers through the blossoming summer foliage of Hyde Park. You notice the way Roger grins and waves at babies when you see them in airports or hotel lobbies, dazzles them like he dazzles very nearly everybody, like he still dazzles you. You notice a longing buried in your bones that you hadn’t known existed.

After six months, you are no longer casually rueful. You start ignoring the calendar, as if not noticing you’re due could stop the bleeding from coming at all, like how you’re not supposed to stare at the clock if you want time to pass faster. You start watching what you’re eating, trying to get more sleep, opening all the windows when Roger smokes as he flips through fashion and music magazines with crafty little snickers, flashing those pointy canine teeth you once assumed your children would have.

And now, after nine months—as the world hurtles towards the conclusion of the brisk October of 1977—you have begun to worry; because maybe this thing, this thing that everyone accepts as a guaranteed feature of the all-inclusive package of the human experience, isn’t something you get to have at all. Roger doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask you about it. He is as he always is: sunlight and joy and heat and raw kinetic energy. But sometimes Roger’s huge blue eyes—those eyes you fell in love with, those eyes that convinced you to follow Queen to London, to stardom, to thunderous stadiums all over the world—go vacant as he gazes out into the horizon, as the sun sets over the garden of the Surrey house, as his face is lit up in gold and amber and celestial fury like the wildfire his soul is made of.

And you’ve begun to worry about him, too.

~~~~~~~~~~

The phone rings from the nightstand. The shrill clanging, like hail on glass, makes you wince beneath the tangle of blankets. Your hand fumbles out into cool night air, which pours in from the open bedroom window.

Where’s Roger?

Then you remember his hushed voice, his bleached hair tickling your cheek, his lips pressed to your temple: Hey baby. I gotta go jam with some people. Grab a drink or two. You sleep, I’ll be back by morning.

Sure, okay, fine. Nothing out of the ordinary. One of those infinite casualties of fame.

You haul the phone to your ear. “Hello...?”

“Hello darling, are you busy?”

“Well, it’s 2:39 a.m., Fred. So not very.”

“Perfect. I need you to go post bail for John.”

You wrench yourself upright, rubbing your eyes with your free hand. “What?!”

“He was drunk driving and backed into a cop car, pure genius. I’m rather indisposed myself at the moment, and of course Veronica can’t know. And you’re so good with him, dear.”

Your feet have already swung off the bed and onto the plush white carpet. You wonder what Freddie is ‘indisposed’ with; there are so many possibilities these days. “And you know about this...because...?”

“He used his phone call on me, darling. I don’t think he wanted to bother you. I suspect he’s a bit mortified.”

“Yeah, well, he should be.” You sigh and start pawing through the safe in the bedroom closet, the spiraled phone cord pulled taunt. Hundred-pound notes shuffle weightlessly between your fingers. You remember when Queen had no money at all, when you and Roger shared a pitiful—dodgy, you amend—one-bedroom flat, when you had to assemble each bouquet and tie each ribbon for John’s wedding by hand; and you’re shocked by the nostalgia that hits you in the gut like brass knuckles. “Sure, I’ll go get him. Just tell me where he is and how much he’ll owe me.”

John is slumped on the floor of the jail cell, alone and sweated and miserable. His hair is in complete disarray. He peers up at you through the iron bars with red, swollen, unfocused eyes.

“Hey,” you say quietly, smiling although you know you shouldn’t be.

He covers his face with both hands and moans. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“Too late. Freddie asked me to come get you, he was drunk or high or in the middle of an orgy or something. You are the worst drunk driver in the world, just so you’re aware. You are obviously not cut out for a life of crime.”

“So I’ve gathered.” He swipes at the strands of hair stuck to his forehead with the back of his hand, bites his lower lip, shakes his head with that thousand-yard stare that says: How the fuck did I get here?

You drop down to your knees to meet him at his level. The concrete floor is filthy, spotted with grime and dust and crushed insects and smears of what might be blood. “What’s going on, John?” you ask gently.

“I can’t keep doing this,” he murmurs. “It’s okay when we’re on tour. When we’re on tour I’m preoccupied and exhausted and too high on the rush to think about it too much. I’m numb. Mostly. But then I come home and it’s...” He glowers, balls his hands into fists, beats them clumsily against his thighs. “It’s this relentless fucking cycle of feeling dissatisfied and guilty and inadequate. A disappointment of a husband. A failure of a father. And it’s inescapable.”

“Well, the constant pregnancy situation probably doesn’t help.” Veronica is expecting their third child in February.

He waves a hand dismissively, rolls his eyes. “It’s part of the thing. The ‘being a good husband’ thing. I can’t fix that. Birth control is a sin or whatever. Jesus is too busy pissing himself over that to care about starving kids in the Soviet Union, I guess.”

“That’s a cheerful prospect.”

“Sorry.”

“No, please, by all means. Throw off all your baggage, I can take it.”

Now he smirks, just faintly. “That’s what we’ve always done for each other, right?”

“We’ll be back on tour in a few weeks, John.” And that was true; the News Of The World Tour was scheduled to begin on November 11th in Portland, Maine. The band would spend the 12th in Boston and join your parents for dinner at the Queen Anne-style house at the intersection of Apple and Arcadia that you grew up in.

He whispers forlornly: “I can’t run from this forever.”

“You might have to. I’d love to know what Slavic Jesus has to say about divorce.”

John coughs out a surprised laugh. “Thank you. I needed that.”

“Come on. I posted your bail. I won’t tell Roger if you won’t. You can put the extra five thousand pounds in your ‘fake my own death and go live on a tropical island’ fund instead of paying us back.” You’re not serious, and John knows that; he would never abandon his children, even if they weren’t old enough to really remember him yet. But it has the desired effect, which of course is lifting the mood, making John divulge that rare and beautiful smile.

“I’m a wreck. I can’t go home like this. It’d be worse than not coming home at all.”

“I’m happy to offer you one of our five superfluous bedrooms.”

“Okay,” John sighs, clutching the bars of his jail cell and dragging himself to his feet. “I’m so sorry. I owe you for this, I really do.”

“No,” you reply, grinning. “Just find a way to send me the coordinates so I can visit you on your secret tropical island once in a while.”

You drive John home to the Surrey house, get him set up in the spare bedroom with the blue-grey wallpaper and blankets patterned with seahorses, give him a stack of Roger’s clean clothes, lay out fresh towels and a tray of water and cookies—biscuits, you reprimand yourself—for him. He’s mostly sober now, which makes you feel somewhat better; still, you are aware that you hate the thought of leaving him alone, even if he’s only a few walls away.

“Thank you,” he says as you stand in the doorway, his face meditative, his hands in the pockets of his leather coat.

“Of course.”

“You’re a good friend. The best, actually.”

“You’re a good man. You don’t always know it, but you are.”

John just stares at you with an expression you can’t read. Like the ocean: always mysterious, always profound. “Goodnight,” he says after a while.

“Goodnight, John.”

As you pull the bedroom door shut, you hear erratic thumps coming up the staircase. Roger stumbles into the upstairs hallway, singing under his breath and drumming the air with invisible drumsticks, and holds out his arms when he sees you. He’s wearing his dark green suit, an unraveling tie, one sparkling pink Converse, his prescription sunglasses tangled in his hair and forgotten. His eyes are effervescent, flighty, almost manic.

“Hey, love of my life!” he cries, comically loud. “What are you doing up?!”

“Shhhhh! Your bassist partied a little too hard and needed a place to crash that wasn’t overrun with kids. He’s in the blue room.”

“Deaks? Deaks is sleeping over?!” Roger exclaims, beaming. “All my favorite people are here!”

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t bother him. He’s pretty messed up, he needs the rest. I’ll make everyone pancakes in the morning or something. Come over here, let’s get you—” But the words die in your throat as you try to tug off Roger’s suit jacket. Fine white powder sheds off the emerald velvet fabric and onto your palm. You blink at it, at the residue like crushed aspirin, like the salt they scatter on Boston roads the night before a snowfall. “What is this?”

He rips his sleeve away, conjures up a smile to throw you off the trail. To dazzle his way out of this. “Nothing.” But he knows. And he knows you know too.

“You were...snorting coke...?”

“Come on, baby, don’t be like that...” He tries to embrace you; you shove him back.

“Roger, no, this is...this is...” You shake your head, shrugging off the shock, searching for the words. You’re confused, you’re exhausted, your mind is whirling. “We’re home, Roger,” you plead, like it means something.

Has he done this before? When? How often? With who?

You should know the answers. It’s not a good sign that you don’t.

“So?” Now he’s indignant.

“So it’s not like being on tour, you’re supposed to take it easy at home, you’re supposed to be, I don’t know, relaxed and recovering and, and, and content...”

You’re not supposed to have an excuse to do all those things that destroy people.

He laughs bitterly. “What, ‘happy at home’?! When has that ever been me?”

“Rog, please, I’m not saying you can’t work all the time or drink or smoke, I’m not even saying you can’t get wasted, I’m just drawing the line at cocaine and I don’t think that’s a terribly despotic place to draw a line.”

“Oh I’m sorry, I must have missed it, when did you become too moralistic for drugs?”

“Acid is different than coke and you know it. Acid doesn’t kill people.”

He glares at you, savage, almost hateful. “You don’t get to put me in a cage.”

“I’m not being controlling or self-righteous, I’m being concerned—”

“You’re being a fucking cop, that’s what you’re being,” Roger snaps.

“What do you want me to say?! I’m a registered nurse, Roger, I’m a medical professional, it’s literally my job to keep you alive—”

“No, it’s your job to make sure we can record and tour and I need it, I can’t play without it, don’t you get that?! I fucking need it!”

Instantly, John is between you, still fully dressed and sweating Manhattans out of his pores and seething. He’s taller than Roger; surely you must have noticed that before. But if you had, you’ve since forgotten. “Roger,” he threatens in a low, unyielding voice. “Go to bed.”

Roger recoils, disoriented, then opens his mouth to protest.

“Go!” John roars, pointing towards the main bedroom. He wants to say more, you can tell, he has rage burning in him like dragonfire; and if it had been Brian or even Freddie, John would have said it. But this is Roger. And you can’t remember a time John has ever raised his voice to Roger before now.

Roger can’t wrap his brain around it either, particularly in his present condition. His eyelids flutter a few times, then he scoffs—a dismissive, derisive sound, a sound that says I don’t know what to do with this information—and staggers away. He slams the bedroom door behind him as he disappears inside.

You collapse against the nearest wall and hiss in ragged breaths through your teeth, your eyes wet and stinging, your hands trembling as you press your knuckles to your lips.

“I-I-I’m so sorry about that,” you whisper, avoiding John’s eyes.

He’s going to say something, something harsh and terrible but true. He’s finally going to tell me how stupid I was for ever thinking this could work, just like Chrissie and Freddie and Brian. He’s going to tell me I deserve it.

Instead, John offers only this, his words flat and hollow: “Yeah. I’m sorry everyone is disappointing you tonight.”

And then he’s gone.

~~~~~~~~~~

In the morning—early afternoon, really—Roger doesn’t remember; or at least he feigns convincingly that he doesn’t. He props his feet up on the kitchen table and shovels down six pancakes and theatrically relays to you all the scandalous celebrity gossip in the News Of The World magazine with his prescription sunglasses perched bookishly on his nose. He asks you three times if you’re alright, trying to read the hesitance in your eyes, to unearth all those questions that are taking up a permanent residence there. You smile and nod, sip your tea, watch the sharp autumn sunshine as it streams in through the windows and bathes Roger in luminescence that seems so benignly interminable in the light of day. And when you peer into the bedroom with seahorse-patterned blankets and walls the color of cold rain, John has vanished; but the air is heavy with the scent of a litany of cigarettes and there’s a handwritten note left on one pillow.

Thanks for everything. Hang tough, as the Yanks say. An island getaway awaits you.

~ World’s Worst Drunk Driver

At 3 p.m., John calls and asks if the Taylors would be interested in an outing to the park while he gives Veronica a few hours alone to catch up on housework without the kids. His tone is light, casual, harmless; but you suspect he’s checking in on you.

“Of course we’re interested!” Roger says, snatching his ostentatious fur coat off the back of his chair. “Baby, love of my life, go get some cash from the safe so we can buy the kids ice cream.”

Incidentally, there’s not much cash left in the safe; but you find a ten-pound note in your wallet for the ice cream man and make a mental note to run to the bank on Monday.

Hyde Park in October isn’t so different than Boston. The leaves above are a kaleidoscope of sunstone and rubies and jasper and jade, crisping and curling around their serrated edges, drifting listlessly onto pavement paths to be crushed beneath rushing feet; the roots of the trees are centuries deep. Chrissie is walking laps around the pond as she pushes the twins’ stroller; Evelyn is a fairly good sleeper, but Theodore—Teddy to his closest confidants, of which you are one—is an anxious baby and prone to whining. He’s definitely Brian’s son, you often find yourself thinking with an affectionate smirk. John’s ten-month-old daughter Anna is nestled in your arms in a semi-conscious state, having thoroughly exhausted herself by painting her face with chocolate ice cream and thereafter enduring an impromptu bath and wardrobe change in a public restroom.

Laszlo, two years old and with a mop of auburn curls, trots by the edge of the pond as Roger grips his tiny hand, periodically crouches down beside him, grins hugely and points out swans and fish darting through the dark rippling water. Laszlo shrieks with laughter and tries to steal Roger’s sunglasses, which glint in the sunlight like black mirrors.

“So your kid’s a convict too,” you say to John.

“Gotta train them when they’re still small and good for shimmying through dog doors and such.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Extremely hungover, but I’m trying not to show it.”

“You’re doing a good job, I wouldn’t have known.”

“Excellent. I don’t think Veronica noticed. She was very curious about how I ended up in a pair of Roger’s skintight leopard-print pants, though.”

You chuckle, glimpsing down at Anna, rocking her a little as her eyes flitter open and then close again. You and John are on opposite ends of a wooden park bench, your ankles crossed and resting in his lap, your hair rustling in the breeze. John peers over at you periodically, studies you like an ancient statue of Aphrodite or Perseus under a spotlight in an echoing museum, then resumes his sketching. Your smile dies as you watch Roger giggle with Laszlo, lift him high into the cool autumn air, trumpet mock airplane noises in that high, raspy voice.

“Come on,” John prompts, nudging your boots. “I’ll take the baggage if you’ll let me.”

No, I think I’ll keep this one to myself. But you don’t. “It’s my fault,” you say softly. It’s my fault we can’t have children.

John lifts his pencil from the page, his greyish eyes gentle. “You don’t know that.”

“Statistically, it is most likely my fault.”

“It hasn’t been that long, has it? Definitely less than a year. Sometimes these things take time.”

“They didn’t for you and Veronica.”

“Yes, well...” John frowns uneasily. “That’s not always such a blessing.”

“How helpful. You should write newspaper columns for depressed housewives. ‘Don’t worry about that infertility dear, you could have it worse, you could have a life sentence with someone you can’t fucking stand.’”

That was unkind, you think, immediately regretting it. That might have been too far.

But John doesn’t seem offended. His pencil flies over the paper as he glances over at you again. “Is that all? Please continue. I’m riveted to learn more about my alternative career path.”

“No, I think I’m done.”

“Okay. What’s your favorite flower?”

You consider that. “Roger always gets me carnations or roses...and I like them, don’t get me wrong...but I don’t know if I’d call either of those my favorite.”

“It’s not that deep a question, Miss Nightingale.”

“I’ll defer to the artist’s expertise. Surprise me.”

“I’m no artist,” John warns, but he returns to his sketching nonetheless. “I’m really sorry about last night, by the way. I was being stupid and dramatic and immature and self-pitying. ‘Midway on our life's journey, I found myself in dark woods, the right road lost,’ etcetera etcetera.”

You’re no great connoisseur of Italian literature, but you recognize those famous opening lines of the Inferno. “Can I ask you something?”

“Please do.”

“What is this fascination you have with Dante?”

“Truly?”

“Yeah.”

He smiles pensively with his eyes cast out over the pond. “I like that his story has a happy ending. That someone can start in hell and sweat out all their sins in purgatory and end up among the stars.”

You raise your eyebrows, taken back, impressed. “That’s awfully poetic.”

“It’s strange, probably,” John says, scrutinizing his drawing.

“No, really. I love it.”

“Yeah?” He’s doubtful, but he’ll allow himself to believe you if you insist.

“Yeah. And no more drunk driving or other acts of self-destruction, okay? Queen would crumble without you, John. And so would I.”

In reply, he rips the page out of his notebook and hands it over. The image is of you: so infinitely more lovely and at peace than you feel, eyes wise and contented and reflecting halos of sunlight, John’s daughter dozing in your arms.

Tucked behind your ear, etched in graphite shadows, is a calla lily.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Darling, what do I look like?” Freddie bats his eyelashes flirtatiously.

“A raccoon.”

His face screws into a grimace. “I’m supposed to be a cat.”

“Yes, I’m cognizant of that. But you look like a raccoon. Which is why people keep assuming you’re a raccoon, which is why you’re asking me now if you look like one.”

“Bloody hell,” he groans, puffs on a cigarette, fluffs his hair irritably, slurps a drink that is fizzy and sapphire blue.

“The problem is that you went with black and white. You should have dressed as a calico or something. Or a grey cat, oh, I love the chubby grey ones!”

“I’m a musician, darling, not a fucking zoologist.” He exhales a ring of smoke and meanders away.

Queen, the band’s associates, and various music industry figures are all milling around the night-draped mansion. It’s half a Halloween celebration and half a launch party for News Of The World, an album named for the tabloid that Roger both loathes and yet refuses to stop having delivered to the Surrey house. He can’t stand the thought of not being clued into the latest gossip, trends, fashion, awards, of missing any piece of what stardom has to offer. In the spirit of Halloween, Roger is dressed as a tiger, his sleeveless sequined shirt striped with orange and black. You are a veterinarian (not so far a cry from a nurse that you can’t repurpose your old uniform), John a shark (he’s taped a cardboard triangle to his back like a fin), Veronica a sea turtle in a teal dress and with a shell painted over her sizable baby bump, Brian and Chrissie both bright green aliens with antennae bobbing from their headbands. Mary is here as well—outfitted (quite appropriately) like an Enlightenment-era queen—but so is Freddie’s new boyfriend, a shy man named Anthony who is young and handsome and compliant and dressed as a mouse. Mary beams dutifully whenever Freddie is speaking to her, but her expression clouds over when he turns away. She no longer has a gold ring gleaming on her wedding finger, although she did gain an athletic blond date whom she seems largely indifferent to.

As Roger wanders through the crowd shaking hands and howling at jokes, you sip champagne by the snack table and devour an obscene amount of crab puffs. John and Veronica are chatting—unenthusiastically, from what you can tell—nearby with lamb kabobs in their grasps. John passes you a smirk every once in a while, an I’m so over this party and I know you are too smirk of commiseration, and nurses a Manhattan. Chrissie nibbles on disks of cucumber and baby carrots and not much else, which is very unlike her.

“You alright?” you ask worriedly. “You aren’t sick, are you? These crab puff things are incredible, I can’t stop eating them. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve had three dinners so far tonight, I’ve become a monster.”

Chrissie’s lips are a tight, humorless line. “I’m perfectly healthy, I’m just a cow.”

“Chris, honey, don’t!” You pat her shoulder reassuringly with one hand, pop another crab puff into your mouth with the other. “You’re gorgeous, and most women’s bodies change once they have babies, it’s natural!”

“Yeah, well most women aren’t married to men with infinite opportunities to upgrade.”

“Chrissie, no,” you murmur, pained; but you aren’t sure what else to say. She’s not wrong. I wish she was, but she isn’t. And she already knows that.

Dreams by Fleetwood Mac is playing from the reverberating stereo, Stevie Nicks’ sensuous, nasally voice climbing through air choked with strangers and cigarette smoke.

“Now here you go again

You say you want your freedom

Well, who am I to keep you down?”

Brian bids farewell to some record company executive he was talking to across the room and slips out onto the back porch of the house, and after a moment Chrissie follows him. You resist the temptation to eavesdrop until you can clearly hear their voices, raised and combative, through the sliding glass door. You glance to John, apprehensive.

You better go out there, he mouths, and so you do.

“Thunder only happens when it's rainin'

Players only love you when they're playin'

Say women, they will come and they will go

When the rain washes you clean, you'll know...”

Under cold October stars, Chrissie has trapped her horrified-looking husband, backed him into a fountain of a dolphin spewing an endless stream of water from its snout. “Did you think I wouldn’t listen to your own fucking album, Brian?!” She shrieks. “Who is she, huh? Who the fuck is she?!”

You grip her arm and try to lead her away. “Chrissie, babe, not here—”

“It’s Late, Brian? Yeah, it’s real fucking late in your life to still be chasing whores over in America while I’m building your family here, isn’t it?!”

“Love, please, it’s not true,” Brian attempts anemically, reaching for her.

“It is!” Chrissie rages. “It is and it always has been and I was too busy being some blind stupid idiot who loved you to see it!”

She breaks down in tears and you shove Brian away, shoo him back inside. You pitch him a fierce glare as he leaves, retreating like a kicked dog. There’s nothing you can do to fix this, you coward. Because everything she’s saying is true. Chrissie clings to you like a life raft, sobbing into your shoulder, asking what she did wrong.

“I’m sorry,” you tell her, over and over again; because that’s all there is to say.

Eventually Chrissie quiets, goes still and resigned and numb, and you help her fix her makeup and lead her back inside. You stand with her beside the snack table and swear not to leave her side until the party’s over, until the men are done celebrating yet another triumph that will take them further and further from home. Brian is nowhere to be found.

“That goddamn broodmare,” Chrissie hisses, gulping straight vodka, staring venomously at Veronica.

“Why do you hate her so much? I mean she can be dull, yeah. She’s sanctimonious and naïve and dresses like a freaking Mennonite. But she’s not horrible or anything.” And her life isn’t so perfect either.

“It’s not obvious?” Chrissie asks, her voice like a blade.

“No...?”

Chrissie’s eyes are scorching, although you’re not the person she’s furious with. You just happen to be standing in the path of the storm. “Because she’s the only one of us who’s never going to have to find out what this feels like.”

Oh, I don’t like that. I don’t like that at all.

You try to spot Roger in the teeming room. He’s over by a crackling fireplace, telling stories with dramatic sweeps of his hands, bleeding charisma like sweat, and none of that is unusual at all. One of the people he’s talking to is Dominique Beyrand, and that’s not so unusual either; Richard Branson ends up at a lot of industry events, and Dom trails him around like a shadow, nodding politely and contributing little chirps of conversation in that posh French accent.

But here’s the strange part; here’s the part you’ve never seen before.

When Roger flashes that dazzling smile of his, Dominique smiles back.

~~~~~~~~~~

Three days later, you’re steeping in a sweltering bubble bath as the phone rings downstairs. You ignore it at first, because the hot water is unraveling all the tension in your muscles and the lurking shadows in your mind, and also because the calendar is hanging right beside the phone in the kitchen and you’re quite committed to ignoring it this morning. But the phone rings again, and again, and you’re aware that it could be something serious; Roger is working on some non-Queen collaboration at a studio in downtown London, and something could have happened to him.

Especially considering his recreational preferences lately.

You scramble out of the tub, pull on a robe that sticks uncomfortably to your dripping skin, leave a path of bathwater footprints down the hallway and steps—slipping twice and clinging to the banister for dear life—before finally careening into the kitchen to snatch the phone off the wall.

“Hello?” you gasp, winded.

It’s not Roger, nor someone calling to inform you that Roger has overdosed or disappeared or vaulted down a staircase or been hit by a bus. It’s Chrissie.

“Have you seen the News Of The World yet?” she demands.

“Ummm, the album...?” Of course I’ve listened to the album. About a million times. You have a particular affinity for Spread Your Wings.

“No, not the album,” she snaps impatiently, although she kindly leaves out the you idiot addition that her tone implicates. “The magazine. Have you seen it today?”

“I was mid-bubble bath and almost broke my neck sprinting for the phone. So no.”

“Good. Don’t read a word. Don’t talk to anyone. I’m coming over. I’m gonna grab John and come right over.”

“Chris, what—?”

“Do not touch that fucking magazine!” she screams, and hangs up.

Naturally, you don’t listen.

You go to the main door of the Surrey mansion and open it. Sure enough, the new issue of News Of The World is waiting on the porch for you. You pluck it up with damp hands; the whirlpools of your fingerprints stick to the parchment.

On the front page is a photo of Roger, but he’s not alone. He’s scowling at the paparazzo snapping the picture, his face lit up by the flash, painfully and unmistakably stunning. He’s in some sort of alley or side entrance to a restaurant or club. He’s somewhere he’s trying not to be seen, which anyone could tell you is remarkable for Roger Taylor. Beside him is a woman you recognize; and although she’s looking down and trying to hide behind her shock of lustrous black hair, you can see her lips are smiling.

The headline reads: “Queen Drummer Spends Royally on London Love Nest for French Mistress.”

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sporadic-writer · 4 years

Text

Welcome to the Neighborhood pt. 2

Note: ok so I know that not all of the boys, meaning both twins, live with the others. And I know my update schedule sucks but I go in a block and funk. Sorry guys. I just want you to read something I would read and truly enjoy. Also, I think I may make this a Haz fic bc ones about hin deserves more love and notes.

No one really reads these but I also think I'll write this for Harrison bc when Tom posted the pic of Nadia, it shattered the illusion in my head lol and it feels weird to a certain extent to write when he is most likely dating her. Don't get me wrong, I'm so happy for him and he doesn't know I exist, but it feels odd idk. So im pausing on Tom stuff atm lol. Harrison is single as far as publicly that ik so thats that 😅

Pairing: Harrison x Reader (most likely)

Warnings: mentions of weed, alcohol, and swearing. I enjoy all these things responsibly and ik im not the only one. As always stop reading if you dont like something.

Part 1 here initial teaser here (got around 100 notes soo 😎 check that out)

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“Alrighty boys. That’s enough about me, tell me about yourselves. I only know this one from the big screen and that 2 of you are brothers.” You gestured to Tom as you spoke about him. “And from basic eavesdropping I gather you are all very close.”

Tom smiled, “Actually I’m a brother to the twins, older obviously.” It was fun having a celeb lounging in your hot tub, drinking a beer with you. “But yeah I am an actor, Spider-Man as you probably know. Harrison’s an actor too!”

“Oh my god you are! I watched Catch-22 on Hulu! Comedy my ass..! I balled my eyes out several times.” He had the nerve to laugh in response. “Don’t laugh! That shit got intense quick. Then the shot where you all are swimming? Killed me. I don't know how I didn't notice you. Sorry!”

“Did you at least like it?” He smiled and asked hopefully. When you nodded yes he beamed! “Well then that’s all that matters. I will say an American accent is hard.”

You brought your beer up to your lips. “Yeah because your guys’ accent is so easy. You make fun of how different areas in America have different accents but it’s the same here!” They nodded in agreement at your words. You leaned your head back a tad and enjoyed the warm water. “Southern accents have different twangs bepending on the area, I have family that lives closer to New England, that's something all in its own. Just like here. You got London, Wales, some place called Essex and other places more north of here. It's not just the US." You reached over for your joint to finish it amongst the bubbles. "Now for real. Tell me about yourselves. Harrison you start I guess."

"Why me?"

"Shorter wikipedia page." You smirk as you re-lit your herb. The guys laughed and made 'ooh' noises to tease. "I'm kidding! Relax a touch. I just picked your name because you are right in front of me."

"Well I've known this lot since we were all kids. Tom and I went to school together and we have been stuck with each other since. I was his personal assistant for a while too." You listened as he spoke. Sweat was building up on his face from the hot tub. It added a nice shine to his, and everyone's faces. In order to avoid makeup running everywhere you sat up as you listened to him. You watched his eyes watch your movements as you took a hit and slowly exhaled. Almost like he was relaxing from watching someone relax from getting high without actually doing so. He kept going and you realized you zoned out a tad. "And then I wanted to do more than just model so I did more auditions and Catch-22 became my biggest so far."

You nodded, noting you heard and were listening. "That's cool and all but tell me like favorite song, movie, animal! Hahaha it isn't everyday famous people are in my hot tub. I'm going to savor this first encounter!" He smiled and answered your sort of questions. You offered the joint around before it finished. Tom passed, Tuwaine and Harrison took quick hits though. "But yeah that is me. Now someone else go so I don't have the spot light on me anymore." He looked at you as he said that and handed you the last bit. You winked in thanks, and to flirt lightly. (Shoot your shot right?) "Same questions to you love."

You responded your favorite song, movie, and color to him. "Yeah I like a bit of everything. But funny movies are my favorite. Obviously I like Marvel too Tom don't worry. Same goes for music but my preference ranges from new pop to older rock. I grew up on 80s alternative pop stuff." You smiled at him and he beamed in pride at the brand he represented. "Ok Sam you now."

Sam starts talking about his life and Harrison goes to grab more drinks. At this point the sun as almost finished setting and you tell the blonde how to turn the deck lights on. Soon the rows of edison bulbs flick on and a lovely mood is set. The glow isn't too bright and adds a nice light to your summer tanned skin. What you don't know is that the gentlemen appreciated the glow as well. However, they are too polite to say anything too bold after just meeting you.

If you could read minds or be sober enough to detect a certain lack of subtlety you would pick up on how the single men checked you out as you got out of the tub to get rid of the roach. Polite of course, 20 something men are going to appreciate a beautiful American girl right in front of them.

And if they could read your mind they would hear how you were taking in Tom and Harrison's jaw lines and toned muscles. How you appreciated Tuwaine's smile and height. Then add the twin's curls and freckles to the list and they'd think you were picking them like boys from a catalogue. Despite the slight oggling on your part, your eyes always wandered back to the blonde hair blue eyed boy the most. He seemed a little more laid back then Tom. Probably just because one was working more than the other, but that was just initial vibes you got. Regardless of vain appearance choices and vibe preference, all these boys were wonderful and you were just lucky enough your uncle's hot tub fit them all nicely.

Tuwaine smiled cheekily and spoke up. "Alright, we all have fresh drinks and proper buzzes. Let's make it fun and play a game. So Y/N, you went to college in the states, give us a classic drinking game and show us what you got."

"Ha! I don't know what you're looking for but I assume never have I ever is universal? You can't play kings or flip cup in a hit tub. Hold up 5 fingers, put them down if you've done said thing, drink as well."

"No fingers, just play till we are right pissed." Harry grinned and everyone else went along with it. "I will start. Never have I ever- wait this a normal game or sexy version?"

You said you didn't care and Tom said what the hell, so he continued. "Never have I ever gotten walked in on during a scandelous activity." Tom and Harrison both drank and groaned saying they have both walked in on each other at some point in life. Tuwaine continued.

"Never have I ever fooled around while someone else is in the room." There was a pause and no one drank. But then you rose your beer to your lips and they all looked at you in a manner of surprise and demand for explination.

Shrugging you said, "Old drunken hookup in school. We didn't know his roommate was in his top bunk asleep until it was too late. The mistake we made was keeping on going when we thought we heard him, because we did..."

"Wow Y/N. Learning a lot about the neighbor girl right away!"

"Shut up this game was your idea!" You laughed as you spoke in response to his teasing. "But whatever it's my turn now anyway. Never have I ever sent a dirty text to the wrong person." That got all but Harrison and you felt proud for getting them. "Alright so you are either morons or were in a rush to send that sext."

Tom defended himself saying her name was Sam and it was instant regret the second he realized.

Sam glared at him and said, "Yeah no one enjoyed that bro. I'm still shaken up about it."

"Get over yourself it was like 5 years ago! And you accidentally sent your friend Jake one, so pot, kettle, hi both black."

"It was detailed!"

You just sat there amused taking this all in. "I am so glad this happened tonight." You said more to yourself than them.

"Darling if this ends up in the tabloids we will never speak again." They were teasing with the threat. "But come on this is good let's keep going. Never have I ever done it in a car." You, Sam, and Tuwaine all drank and giggled.

The game continued on and another round of drinks were had. You learned Tuwaine had said the wrong name in bed. Also, that both Harry and Harrison have fooled around during family functions. In return they learned that you've hooked up in a college classroom and in a restaurant bathroom. That ended up getting you and your former boyfriend kicked out of the establishment. Towards the final round all were getting sleepier but still in a good mood.

"Never have I ever had sex high." Harrison challenged the group. No one drank. "Wait really? Thought I'd get you with that. Finish your beer and all." He looked at you as he spoke.

"Nope. Just never happened now that I've thought about it. Huh. You'd think right? But nope. Not that I'm opposed." You ended your statement by glancing his way while finishing your beer anyway. Harrison just watched the way your neck moved as you tilted your head back. "Ok boys this was fun but I am gettin tired."

Tom nodded. "Same here. Thank you for having us darling, it was fun!" The others spoke in agreement and you smiled at them saying they were welcomed back anytime. They offered to help clean but you grabbed the remaining bottles and told them you were good. After final goodbyes, you told them to not he strangers, you were all in your respective homes.

You went to bed pretty quick. Next door, at their place Tom, Harrison, and Sam lingered to get some water before bed. "She was really cool." Sam said while sipping water.

Harrison hummed in agreement. "Yeah I think so too. Very chill and all that."

Sam smirked and playfully said, "You just think she's fit mate." There was a pause.

"Well she is." It was Tom who said that and the others looked at him in playful shock. "What I'm not blind! She is! She's isn't some shy girl freaking out over us. She's cheeky and just seems normal about us living next to her. More Harrison's type though I'd say."

Sam laughed. "Yeah he always liked the classic American 'girl next door' type. Just a bonus she is actually American this time." They paused for Harrison to negate their statements but he just sipped his water and looked at them with a glint in his eyes. "Told you." Sam said as he took a sip. "She is better than half the models either of you bring back. Nuerons fire and she can keep a conversation. Not that all models are like that! But come on you went out with some stereotypes." Neither could disagree. Sometimes you just want to have a date with the beautiful face. Long term needs substance though, and both Tom and Harrison thought you had it all.

"We need to invite her over tomorrow, and any time she's free." Groundwork was to be established and Harrison was determined to get to know you more.

°•○•°○°•○•°○°•○•°

As always, like and reblog! I hope you like it! Also if i forget to tag someone lmk, same if you wanna be tagged or not tagged. Feedback and notes are appreciated but be nice haha I edit as best I can. Thanks for reading and enjoying.

Tags: @jillanaholland @averyfosterthoughts @sarah-m-limelight-2007 @astridcommings

#fanfic #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #harrison osterfield fanfiction #harrison osterfield x reader #tom holland #fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #harrison osterfield fluff #harrison osterfield

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allthe-queens-men · 5 years

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Sugar Free

John x Roger x Reader (polyamorous triad)

You feel bad about your boys spending their new money on you. So you make a plan to have only cheap and mostly at-home dates for a while.

Chapter 1

At least on tour they have each other. John, more than any of this bandmates, needs the kind of stability that he seems to find in the two of you: you and Roger help him feel grounded when everything still feels so up in the air. And God forbid Roger is left alone for more than a few days. If not for John he would’ve been calling you at 3 AM (his time) every morning. Even if he has nothing of substance to talk about, he needs to be distracted from the empty bed behind him.

You didn’t think you needed any of that. You’re happy to let them go live their dreams while you live yours, and your dreams don’t involve being uprooted for two-thirds of the year. But then your own two-thirds are gone for so long, and you love them so dearly, that the closer the day of their return, the more you find you’ve missed them all along.

Pepper sits with you at the window. She’s purring in the rare mid-September sun, eyes shut, perfectly content.

You wait.

And wait.

‘We just landed. We’ll be home soon!’ John had texted you some three hours ago. The airport isn’t right there in London, but it isn’t so far away either. And this morning that hour-drive distance is feeling greater than halfway around the world.

Part of you wants to step away, brew a relaxing cup of tea. But what if they pulled up in the meantime? You wouldn’t be there to welcome them home after seven long months. A few more minutes –your fingertips drumming erratically on the windowsill— couldn’t hurt.

“Your dads are coming home today, Pep.” But the wise creature probably already knows. You’d been flitting about the flat like a hummingbird, cleaning the tidy space spotless. You’d nearly stepped on her tail twice. And once actually did. But Pepper is a compassionate old girl –she understands.

An old black sedan pulls up out front. It was one of so many cars like it that had already passed by today. It’s so unremarkable that you don’t recognize this one as Brian’s. It had left with your boys back in February and was delivering them home today. You finally see the silhouette of his large mop of curls in the driver’s seat, and you all but fly off the sofa. Your eyes remain glued to the car, though, in case it was just your frenzied mind getting the best of you just now. But then you catch John climbing out of the back seat, dressed in khaki shorts and a t-shirt to take advantage of the pleasant weather. The way he shakes out his soft hair and pushes his bangs to the side light a candle in your soul as you grin from ear to ear.

He retrieves his bag from the boot and stands there, just off the pavement, waiting for something. Or someone.

Roger climbs out now, less graceful than John but still making it look effortless even when his boot catches on the back of Freddie’s seat. He pulls his hair out of his face and pushes his glasses back up his nose. He goes around back, shouting something incoherent to the car’s remaining occupants, and grabs his own luggage out of the back. A pat to John’s lower back briefly becomes a squeeze around his waist, and then he’s racing up the stairs.

He trips in his excitement, and it sets you to laughing. It’s the last glimpse you can get of them (John helping Roger to his feet again) before they disappear behind the wall.

You can’t wait any longer.

You tear yourself away from the window with Pepper hot on your tail as you rush to meet them at the door. You catch yourself against the wall just as the door is flung open, and in come the two loves of your life.

With a shout of your name Roger pulls you into a crushing embrace. You eagerly press your face into his shoulder, breathing in his cologne. You try to hug him back just as tight; he’s never really home until he can feel it in every nerve ending. Having you back in his arms is a good start. John sidesteps around the two of you and bends down to scratch behind Pepper’s ear. He knows he’ll get his turn. In the meantime he’s content with the cat.

“I’ve missed you so much you wouldn’t believe!” Roger exclaims when he’s loosened the hold up enough to breathe.

“You really probably wouldn’t,” John says, scooping Pepper up in his arms. She starts purring again –he’s always been her favorite.

“You think you’ve missed me? I had to do without both of you!” You’re joking, of course. You mean to, anyway. But you also know it’s a bit of a sore subject that the three of you try to work around as much as possible. “But at least I had Pepper.”

Your attempt to placate them doesn’t work on them, but John smiles and brushes your arm with his free hand. It’s a fleeting but warm and gentle touch. “Well, you don’t have to do without us now.”

“And we’ve got something big planned to make it up to you.” Roger takes you by the hand and leads you back to the lounge. “So I know we’ve been away for a while, but John and I have both been meaning to get away, just the three of us. I think it would be good for all of us.”

You sit down, John setting Pepper down and sitting next to you. “What would?”

“We’re planning a holiday to Paris.”

“Oh.” You nod, and try to match his excitement. “Sounds great!” It doesn’t work. But you had been to Paris twice before, and you were really hoping to just have some time with them at home. Something else is weighing on you now, too: something more amorphous.

Roger’s hands fall at his side. “Well, don’t be too excited now,” he teases, but you can hear the edge of hurt in his voice.

“What’s wrong, love?” John leans his chin on your shoulder. You want to relax back against him, but you’re terribly tense. John shoots Roger a look and he sits on the other side of you.

“Sorry. Maybe Paris isn’t the best idea right now?”

“No, I-…” You don’t know how to describe it. “I… As much as I’d love to go away just the three of us, I think I just want you home more than anything.”

“Oh.” And Roger is nothing if not adaptable. “Well I’ll call that fancy Parisian restaurant downtown and we’ll celebrate with dinner there tonight.”

You nod, lips drawn tight in a smile. John lets you go to go get dressed.

“This place takes months to get a table,” John says as they pull up to the restaurant. “Are you sure we actually have a reservation?”

“Relax, babe, I know the owner.”

John rolls his eyes, and Roger grins and pulls him in for a hard kiss to his cheek. He doesn’t let go until John smiles –“Alright, alright, get off me before we’re late!”— and you laugh as you walk alongside them. But as entertaining as their antics are, you feel the sinking pit in your gut again as you see just how high end the place really is. They charge exorbitant prices for the tiniest portions they can get away with. You make decent money with your job, but you know you can’t afford this kind of outing –and so you know who’s going to be footing the bill. You try not to feel too ill for the wine Roger orders for the table.

On the walk back to the flat the boys get into an argument about something too silly for them to remember by the time you get home. You’re not paying attention to all of that; you’re trying to figure out what felt so wrong about tonight, and once you can explain it to yourself, how you can explain it to John and Roger.

“Y/N?” John’s voice is so tinged with concern that you feel you need to put on a smile to put him at ease, but that doesn’t last more than a few seconds. “Are you alright?”

You sigh and lean on the front door of your building. “No, I don’t think I am.”

He frowns deeply and touches your waist. “What’s wrong?”

“Can we get inside yet?” You look down to Roger grabbing the post from the box, and then back to John. He’s as handsome as when he left, but visibly tired. “I don’t want to have this conversation outside. It’s getting chilly.”

“I’ve lost the box key!” Roger calls as he hops up the steps to join you.

John laughs softly. “We’re never getting them back, then.”

“I probably stuffed them somewhere in my bag.”

“Or they’re somewhere in Kyoto.”

“Ye of little faith.” He playfully pinches John’s cheek and pulls his house key out of his pocket. “We’ll see when we get inside.”

“Actually—” You’re hesitant to cut in, but you quickly have both their attention. “I want to talk. All three of us.”

“Oh. Alright.”

You get inside and, with both your boyfriends sitting on the couch in front of you, you go into your loosely rehearsed spiel.

“Now that you boys are making money and, well, lots of it— I understand if you want to spend some of it on me, but I can’t help feeling like a burden or… worse… a gold digger, when you drops hundreds of dollars on dinner like that.”

Roger’s face is burning as he sinks into the cushions.

“I don’t mean—… I know you mean well, Rog. I know you’re just trying to show that you love us. But I don’t have that kind of money to spend on you and it makes me feel selfish, or like I’m taking advantage of your new fame.” You don’t know what to do with your hands, so you just let them bob against your thighs. “So I guess those are my hang-ups tonight. Any questions?” You ask in jest, an attempt to lighten the mood. You’re surprised when John raises his hand. You awkwardly point to him, unsure of what to expect (you thought it was all pretty straightforward, if not a little muddled in the delivery).

“How can we help you feel better?”

You look between them, their eyes asking the same question. You feel an unexpected wave of relief wash over you, and squeeze yourself between them, ready for a long brainstorm session.

When you finally go to bed, you all have the plan in mind and feel much better for it. You sleep between your boys tonight, safe and excited.

@deacydeac @anotheronebitesthedeaks @sarcasticc-sunshin-e @im-happy-at-home @be-the-cheese-to-my-toast

#john deacon #roger taylor #john deacon x reader #roger taylor x reader #dealor #sugarfreefic

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peaceisadirtyword · 5 years

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Crush II (Modern!Ivar/Reader)

A/N: I’m so nervous. It’s 3 am and I just finished this. The thing is; I'm so scared you won’t like it or it will disappoint you that I even thought about not posting it😂 I live for the drama. But seriously, I hope you didn’t have high expectations for this because I was so worried that I think I fucked everything up. Anyway, I decided to make this a series, so let’s hope I can write something better for part 3. I hope you like it, don’t be too harsh on me please, I’m really stressed😅 and thanks for reading♥️

Warnings: a bit of smut, Ivar is a bit angry, he’s cute anyway, Ubbe and Hvitty being adorable big brothers, drama, an attempt of angst and fluff and the fact that im not good at this.

Words: 3620

Read part one here

"So, Y/N, dear, Ivar told me you like books" Aslaug smiled to you nicely, happy to have a woman in the house.

"Yeah, I enjoy reading" you nodded, smiling politely and trying not to smile at Ivar, knowing he had told his mother about you "Although I don't have as many books as him and I'm not that smart" you shrugged.

Ivar rolled his eyes and Aslaug smiled again, proud of her son.

"I'm sure you are, Ivar wouldn't help you if he didn't think you're smart"

"Well, let's just say Old Norse isn't her fort"

You glared at him playfully and he smiled. Aslaug looked at her son with wide eyes. She hadn't heard him joking with someone who wasn't Ubbe, Hvitserk, Floki or herself in years.

"If I fail the exam next week I'm blaming you" you shrugged.

"So, is Ivar as annoying in class as he's at home?" asked Ubbe, not wanting to waste the opportunity of pick on his little brother.

Ivar frowned, glaring at Ubbe and then glaring at you when you chuckled.

"He's actually pretty quiet, I'm the one who doesn't stop talking"

"Yeah, she's annoying" Ivar rolled his eyes, Aslaug gasped and hit him on his arm.

"Ivar! Don't say that!"

"What? She's always talking, sometimes I have to tell her to shut up"

You bit you lip, smiling. It was really nice to see this different side of Ivar, more playful and relaxed. You enjoyed his relationship with his mother, too, how he looked at her like she was the most wonderful person in the world, and how she smiled at him, proud and loving.

Aslaug and Ubbe spent the rest of the dinner asking you about school and family. It was obvious that they wanted to know more about you, noticing that Ivar actually liked you.

After eating the brownies for dessert and a short fight between Ivar and Hvitserk in danish because the last one ate almost all the brownies and didn't let you more than two, you went back to Ivar's room, to keep studying.

Needless to say that you didn't study anything.

You had blushed when you saw his bed unmade and remembered what had happened in there only an hour ago. Anyway, your shyness faded when Ivar kissed you, after laughing at you because you weren't capable of pronouncing ófri∂r.

His lips were addicting, and he managed to make you melt just by kissing you softly and caressing your cheek.

Who would have said that the rude and always-angry Ivar could be so sweet?

You made him lay down on the bed, trying to get on top of him to prevent him from breaking the kiss and try to make you study, but just when you tried to intertwine your legs with his, he winced and you quickly got away from him, scared of hurting him.

"Sorry, sorry" you bit your lip. You had completely forgotten about his legs "Oh my god, did I hurt you?"

"No, it's fine" he closed his eyes, clenching his jaw as one of his hands gripped his leg "They just hurt, I've been all day walking with the crutches"

You frowned, not really understanding.

"But you always go with the crutches, right? I've even seen you with only one in school"

"Yeah, well, I always go to school with the crutches, but usually at home I use the wheelchair"

"You have a wheelchair?" You were confused, if he had a wheelchair, which was obviously more comfortable than the crutches, why did he take them? "And why didn't you use it?"

He sighed, not wanting to tell you that he wouldn't use the wheelchair because he didn't want you to see him... Weak? He couldn't stand the way people looked at him when he was on the wheelchair; with pity, condescendence... They were even nicer to him. It was unnerving, and he didn't want to see that look in your face.

"I don't like to use it when someone is at home" he shrugged, avoiding your gaze "But it's okay, I'll just take some painkillers and I'll be okay in one hour"

You pouted, instinctively putting a hand over his on his leg and caressing it softly.

"I'm sorry you're in pain" you sighed "Do you want me to get you that medicine?"

He looked at you surprised. Everyone who wasn't part of his family or Floki or Helga usually avoided the topic, they even got away from him whenever he mentioned something related to his legs, as if it was contagious.

"No, I'm fine, I'll take it later" he smiled softly, feeling a strange warmth in his chest "But thank you"

"Don't thank me, it's my way of apologizing for hurting you"

"Stop apologizing, you didn't hurt me"

"Yeah, I did, I should be more careful..."

"I am not made of glass, Y/N" his voice sounded much more sharp than he intended to. He couldn't help it, the pain made him angry.

You bit your lip, taken aback at his tone. You were used to his outbursts, but after kissing you in that way and being so sweet you didn't expect it.

"Sorry" you muttered looking away.

Ivar sighed, rubbing his eyes, angry at himself for snapping at you and angry at you for caring for him.

"It's late" he cleared his throat "You should go home"

It wasn't that late, even less considering that it was Saturday night and neither of you had to get up early the next day, but he was exhausted, emotionally and physically. He would have loved to spend the night with you, cuddling in his bed, maybe even have sex again, but honestly, you deserved someone who wouldn't wince in pain every time you touched his legs.

Like your ex boyfriend.

"Do you want me to go?" You tilted your head to one side, suddenly feeling shy, nervous of having bothered him.

"Yeah, please, I'm tired" he whispered, leaning his head onto his pillow and closing his eyes.

"Okay" you tried to smile, but it didn't reach your eyes.

"Ubbe can drive you home"

"I can take the bus" you shrugged, getting up and fixing your clothes, putting your hair over your neck to hide the marks Ivar had left.

"No, it's late, Ubbe will take you" he frowned, getting up and taking the crutches to open his door.

Aslaug and Ubbe were watching TV, sitting on the couch, while Hvitserk was on the kitchen, eating the rest of the brownies and looking through his phone. Sigurd was nowhere to be seen, but you supposed he was in his room, as you heard some music coming from the second floor.

"Ubbe can you take Y/N home?" Ivar looked at his brother, asking him silently not to ask anything.

He looked at you, a bit confused, but smiled and nodded, getting up to take the car keys and his jacket. Aslaug, like her son, understood that something had happened, but she wouldn't ask in front of you as she didn't want to upset Ivar.

"Thank you so much for the dinner, mrs. Lothbrok" you smiled at Aslaug with the most polite tone you knew "It was amazing"

"You're welcome, my dear, please feel free of coming whenever you want to" she smiled back at you "And call me Aslaug"

"Okay, Y/N, whenever you're ready" Ubbe walked over to the front door.

"Bye Ivar" you smiled at him, a bit sad "Thanks for... Everything"

He tried to smile, but he could only press his lips together as he watched you going to the door, putting your shoes on and going out, with Ubbe frowning at him before following you.

He stared at the door for almost a minute after you had already gone, feeling the stupidest person in the world for letting you go thinking he was mad at you.

But before Aslaug could ask him what was wrong, he turned around to go back to his room.

How could such a beautiful day end up like that?

When he entered his room, he almost screamed in frustration, seeing Hvitserk sitting on his bed, with his drawer opened and looking around.

"I left three condoms" Hvitserk frowned "And there's only two" he smiled widely, looking at a really angry Ivar who wasn't in the mood to fight his brother "What? Did you have fun?"

"Shut up, Hvitserk, please" he sighed, laying down on the bed and throwing the crutch away.

"I can't believe you lost your virginity with a girl like that and then you throw her out of your home" his brother shrugged "I wouldn't have let her out of my bed for days"

"I'm tired, Hvitserk, please..."

"Yeah, you did a lot of exercise today, didn't you?"

Ivar growled, his brother's laugh angering him even more.

"Get the fuck out of my room!" He yelled, trying to stop himself from throwing something on his way.

Hvitserk laughed, amused by his reddened cheeks and his anger.

"Come on, Ivar, what happened?" He smiled softly at him "You can tell me"

"Nothing, it's just..." he sighed "I'm stupid"

"Well, tell me something I don't know" Hvitserk raised an eyebrow "Did the two of you fight or...?"

"No, I just... She was overreacting about my legs"

"Overreacting?"

"Yeah, she just touched my leg accidentally and I was in pain, and she started apologizing and all of that, you know"

Hvitserk sighed rubbing his eyes.

"Ivar... It is really a bad thing that she worries about you? Especially after having sex with her" he chuckled "It's normal, she thought she had hurt you and apologized, you should have explained to her what happens when you're in pain"

"I'm just tired, I want to sleep" he ignored his brother, knowing he was right. The truth was: he wasn't mad at you, he was angry at himself, for being stupid and letting himself snap at you in that way.

"Okay, rest a bit" Hvitserk walked to the door "But you should talk to mom, she'll be worried, and take your medicines"

"I told Ivar I could take the bus" you said shyly when Ubbe entered the car.

"It's okay, Y/N, it's late and you shouldn't walk all alone" he smiled at you. You found Ubbe to be the warmest of the brothers, he had been really nice to you and you found very cute the way he cared for Ivar.

"Thank you" you smiled, a bit more relaxed.

"What happened?" He asked "Did Ivar say anything to you that..."

"No, no, it was my fault actually" you blushed, intimidated by him "His legs hurt and I somehow managed to anger him"

"I'm sure it wasn't your fault, Ivar is like that when he's in pain, he's angry at everyone, don't take it personal"

"I... Well, I understand him, it must be frustrating"

Ubbe smiled widely.

"You like him, right?"

You blushed, clearing your throat and looking out of the window.

"I'm asking you because he really likes you" he shrugged "I'd like to know if you like him back, I wouldn't want to see him with a broken heart, you know" he added, looking at the road "But you don't have to answer, it's only curiosity"

"I like him" you answered, biting your lip and shifting in your seat, clearing your throat "But I wouldn't be that sure about his feelings for me"

"Why not?" He frowned "Ivar wouldn't invite you home if he didn't like you, and he certainly wouldn't help you study... And I've seen the way he looks at you... You even had sex, and he hasn't had sex in his life"

Your eyes widened at the mention of the sex. Gods, it was embarrassing.

"I... Wouldn't let someone talk to me in that way if I didn't like him and care about him enough" you said, ignoring the sex part "But he's different when he's out of school... More relaxed"

"School is hard for him" Ubbe sighed "Since he was little, people can be really cruel"

"I know" you pressed your lips together, remembering all those times you had to defend him when your ex boyfriend and his friends started messing with him.

"He's different since you came, though" he smiled again "Happier, he talks about you sometimes, especially to our mother... But don't expect him to tell you anything about his feelings"

"Really?" You smiled, excited, though your smile faded when you remembered he was angry at you "Well I don't think he wants to see me again so..." you shrugged.

"Trust me, Y/N" Ubbe looked at you, smiling softly "He wants to"

Ivar couldn't sleep, he just took his medicines and talked to his mother, but that only made him more angry. He wanted to text you, but didn't want to risk you ignoring him or telling him you didn't want to see him again.

Ubbe just arrived home, he could hear him talking to Hvitserk on the kitchen, and knew he was being informed of his situation when he couldn't hear his mother or brother talking.

A few minutes later, someone knocked on his door. Making him sigh and open his eyes before turning around to see who was the one who came to give him the talk.

"Hey" Ubbe smiled at him "How are you?"

"Fine" he looked at the ceiling.

"Y/N is at home, safe and sound"

"Okay"

He heard his brother sighing and felt his worried glare on him, no matter how hard he tried to ignore him.

"Ivar, what happened? She was sure you wouldn't want to see her again, what did you say to her?"

"I just snapped at her" he shook his head "It's not her fault, I just couldn't control myself, and I'm tired"

"You should have used the wheelchair" Ubbe sighed, taking the crutches from the floor and leaving them on a corner, leaned onto the wall.

"I don't want Y/N to see me in a wheelchair"

"She wouldn't care, and I'm not letting you fuck your legs up because you think Y/N is going to leave you for using a wheelchair"

"I can't fucking walk properly, Ubbe" he snapped again, annoyed at his brother's words "I can't even hook up with her because the moment she touches my legs, they hurt"

"They hurt because you were being stubborn and forced yourself to walk with the crutches all day, knowing you had had a bad night and your eyes were blue this morning, not because she touched you" Ubbe was starting to lose his patience "Y/N likes you, Ivar, she's not going to run away from you because she sees you on a wheelchair, and now she's at home, thinking she did something wrong when her only fault was worrying about you" Ivar clenched his jaw and looked away "You have to stop pushing people away, Ivar, we are your family and we'll always be there, even Sigurd and father, but there's more people willing to care about you out there, just give them a chance" Ubbe's face softened when he saw a tear rolling down Ivar's cheek "I'll let you rest, if you feel better tomorrow, I can take you to Y/N's home to talk to her"

You had spent the whole morning trying to study. But it was impossible.

The anxiety of not knowing if Ivar would talk to you again, the stress for the exam and the ache between your legs -which didn't let you sit still in a chair for more than five minutes- kept you from focusing on your notes and studying.

You were half asleep, too. After texting your best friend, telling her what had happened, you had been awake, looking at the dark ceiling and trying to fight the urge of texting Ivar to apologize all night. The sun was starting to go up when you finally fell asleep, just to wake up nearly three hours later, with your mom telling you she and your dad were going out to visit a friend for the day.

You'd love to lay onto your bed and sleep, but whenever you closed your eyes, you could only see Ivar's beautiful blue eyes, and it made you want to cry and smile at the same time.

After eating lunch, you were procrastinating on the couch, playing absentmindedly with your cat while you thought about texting Ivar, when your doorbell rang.

Your heart skipped a beat when you opened the door and found Ivar in there, leaning onto his crutches and with blushed cheeks. Behind him, you could see Ubbe's car parked in front of your door.

"Hi" he cleared his throat, looking at the floor "Are you busy?"

You took almost a minute to react, blinking a few times and looking at him in awe, not believing he was actually there.

"Um... No, please, come in" you opened the door completely and stepped aside, letting him enter your house.

He waited until you closed the door to look at you in the eyes and bit his lip.

"I... Came to say sorry" he shrugged "I didn't mean to talk at you in that way yesterday, you didn't do anything wrong, I was just mad because of the pain, and I definitely didn't want you to go" he sighed. He spoke like it hurt him to say sorry.

That made you smile.

"It's okay Ivar, you didn't have to come all the way here to apologize" you blushed, but smiled brightly "It's totally fine, I understand you needed to rest and be left alone, it didn't bother me" you lied, not wanting to make him feel bad "I'm sorry if I was too annoying"

He frowned, looking almost offended to hear you say that.

"You weren't annoying" he replied "Would you forgive me?"

How could you not forgive him, when he was looking at you with those beautiful eyes and with an adorable pout that made him look cute and sexy at the same time?

You bit your lip, taking his hand and leading him into the living room, where you had spread all your notes and books and were trying to study.

"I will forgive you if you help me with the Old Norse, again"

He rolled his eyes.

"Y/N, I'm sorry I'm the one who has to tell you, but you're going to fail"

"Well that thing is impossible, it's not my fault" you scoffed "Maybe if you stop laughing at me because I can't pronounce those non-existent words and actually help me, I could pass"

Ivar smiled. It was his first genuine smile since you left his house the night before.

"Okay, I'll help you, stop whining"

He sat on the couch, startling your cat, who looked at him with curiosity and approached him. You honestly expected that Ivar would push the cat away, and were surprised when you came back from the kitchen with two glasses of water and saw your cat, which didn't like people, on Ivar's lap, arching against him and purring loudly as he stroked his ears softly.

"His name is Loki" you said, your heart melting at the sight "He hates humans, so this is a really unusual behavior..."

"Loki, the trickster god" Ivar smirked at the cat, he seemed to like him "I like your name".

You took Loki out of the room, closing the door and leaving him to play with his mouse toy.

Of course, you didn't get any studying done.

Even though you were too sensitive, you did your best to ignore it as you straddled Ivar's lap on your couch, while kissing him and moving your hips against his hand. He had been fingering you for a few minutes, and for someone who claimed to be inexperienced, he had managed to make you moan and shake around him in seconds.

He looked focused, his eyes following your every move, smirking when you moaned and growling softly when you clenched your walls around his fingers.

He wanted to know your reactions, to learn where he needed to touch to make you moan and make those delicious sounds. Ivar had never been with a girl before you, but he had spent hours listening to his brothers about how to please a girl.

And he was a fast-learner.

And you were so beautiful... Especially with reddened cheeks and closed eyes, disheveled hair and lips parted, moaning his name softly and gripping his shirt, even digging your nails onto his arm.

You came pressing your forehead against him, and when you opened your eyes to look at him, you saw him looking at you so intensely that almost made you cum again.

As you unbuttoned his trousers and freed his hard cock, you didn't look away from his face, scared of hurting him or making him feel pressed. But he encouraged you by pulling you closer to him, grabbing your hips.

You sinked onto his cock slowly, wincing when you felt some pain and biting your lip.

"Are you alright?" Ivar panted, his eyes searching yours.

"Yes, sorry, it's just a bit uncomfortable at first..."

"If you want to stop..."

"No" you shook your head before kissing him again. It was like losing your virginity again.

The pain didn't last much, and soon you let Ivar start thrusting into you softly, moaning and moving against him.

He moaned into your ear, hugging your waist and hiding his face into your neck. His eyes were closed and he felt better than he had in years.

Maybe Ubbe was right, maybe you truly cared about him.

Tags: @mblaqgi @alicedopey @lol-haha-joke @hallowed-heathen @ivarslittlebadgirl @naaladareia @tephi101 @captstefanbrandt @love-hate-love @titty-teetee @thisisparadisemylove @readsalot73 @moondustmemories @thevikingsheaux @therealcalicali @chimera4plums @blushingskywalker @awkwardfangirl02 @thehanneloner

I hope I didn’t forget anyone! I hope you liked it, and sorry for the shitty ending, I’ll try to continue it soon💜 Thanks for reading! And thanks for all the reblogs, likes, messages and comments on the first part, you’re amazing!

#ivar imagine #ivar the boneless #modern ivar #ivar x reader #vikings #vikings imagine #ivar smut #vikings smut #I felt the pressure #sorry if it's too bad

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afewmarvelousthoughts · 5 years

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Stay Ch. 16

Master List

Pairing: Natasha X Reader (Female)

Summary: You have a gift, the ability to see other people’s innermost secrets. For years you used it to gather intel for the highest bidder when you take on The Widow. After she becomes more than a mark the two of you spend years stealing moments. Post snap you wait in your designated meeting place, look back on the sordid past you share with the woman you love and hope against everything that she’s still alive.

Warnings: Angst, and fluff, and feels oh my!

A/N: So yeah I swear I wroth an authors note for this... but idfk what happened.

ANYWAY! Thank you all for being so patient while I got my life together. This one is also short and sweet (guess that’s the mood I’m in). However, y’all should know me by now. This is just the calm before the storm.

Hope you enjoy this one my pumpkins!

Tags are open!

@mywinterwolf @disagreetoagree @breezy1415 @peachthatdrinkslemonade @5aftermidnight@jeromethepsycho @marvel-randomness @daniellajocelyn @katecolleen @yanginginthere@wonderlandmind4 @piensa-bonito @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @lesbian-girls-wayhaught @siriuslycloudy2

March 2007

At some point in the last five months, you’d stopped recognizing yourself. The woman in the mirror wasn’t Y/N. Her hair was different, down to even the eyebrows. Her accent distinctly that of a life long Londoner. She worked for an independent UK couture fashion magazine, chose wine over whiskey, and was distinctly heterosexual.

When the chance to work this job requiring deep cover came up in December you jumped on it. You didn’t want to be you anymore. The you that couldn’t be with the woman you loved. The you that was heartbroken. The you who was beginning to doubt that you’d ever be happy. Fuck her.

Being Charlie Daniels was far better. She was, of course, a real person. Just one who was now living comfortably in the Bahamas courtesy of MI6. Even legit agencies had use of freelance talent every now and then.

Settling into her life had been easy. Not setting her boss on fire or blowing his brains out daily was a different task altogether. Turned out that a magazine was a great front for a crime empire. Lots of international travel, young and beautiful and desperate men and women, money exchanged in countless untraceable ways, on and on. And this fucker was happy to take advantage of every single disgusting avenue it opened up.

You almost had everything you needed to hand to MI6, get your obscenely large payout, and get on to another gig while they threw all of these bastards into cells to rot for the rest of their miserable lives. Just one more trip. After whatever horrible things they lay out in Tokyo you’ll be set.

Tokyo is one of those cities you can lose yourself in. Like New York but better for its interesting balance of vibrancy and grounded reserve. You absolutely love it.

The whole point of the trip, at least on the surface, was to focus on Fashion Week Tokyo. Honestly, there was a part of you that wished this was your world. Nothing but runway shows and after parties. Writing about the latest trends rather than delving into the inner workings of the worlds miscreants

Oh well. It was nice enough to pretend. You had to admit that you’d miss Charlie Daniels once you shed this skin in a couple of weeks.

You’re sitting two people down from your boss at an underground show. The level of security here screams that there are other things going on behind the scenes but it’s still a room filled with a who’s who of the Japanese and international fashion communities.

This was your third show of the day, and you knew there would be a party after where you’d have to schmooze all while plucking information from your unsuspecting fellow guests. You’re exhausted. So rather than pay much attention to the show you let your mind wander.

When she walks out you feel her rather than see her. Slowly you turn your head to stare dumbstruck at the model walking onto the catwalk. Your heart begins beating against your ribs, your mouth goes dry, your hands shake.

It takes every ounce of control you have to keep your emotions in. To not scream “Natasha!” at the top of your lungs. To not grab her and run for the hills. Charlie Daniels and her easy life be damned. It’s hard but you manage.

As she turns and comes back down, passing now closer to you, her eyes don’t graze the crowd at all. Head up, shoulders back, she walks the runway like she’d been doing it for years.

The rest of the show is maybe ten minutes but it feels like years. You know the models are all attending the party. Eye candy for the high end guests.

It’s fairly easy to ditch your coworkers in the crowd as you try to find the best vantage point in the room without being too obvious. After a solid twenty minutes, you find yourself planning an escape route. Most of the models are milling about but she’s no where to be seen. You will find her.

But you know you can’t skip out just yet. At the bar, you order a red wine and make yourself seen. Charlie would never miss the whole party after all. You spend a bit chatting with designers and a few models, feigning interest in the whole thing until you hear your boss call out to you.

“Oy, Charlie!” Carl’s voice alone makes you want to put him down. When you turn he’s waving you over to the bar. Sighing heavily you head over.

You’re about ten feet away when you see her, head back laughing at something Carl or his friend had said. Both men are far to close to her for your liking and the hungry look on Carl’s face sets your blood boiling.

He slings an arm around your shoulders and you carefully coach your face to not show disgust. “Charlie here is my best writer. Doin’ some pieces for us on this whole thing,” he waves his other hand around wildly.

“Good to meet ya, Charlie, I’m Dan,” the other man, clearly American says.

“Likewise,” Natasha doesn’t react to the accent at all.

“This here is-”

“Natalie,” Natasha cuts him off, extending a hand to you. Holding her eyes with yours you take it. It’s like touching a live wire.

“Natalie is an American model working here in Japan. May be a good topic for a piece.” He ribs you leaning closer, “And a good piece for the office eh?” Suddenly that MI6 money seems far less appealing.

“I’d love that,” Natasha beams. “Why don’t you guys go mingle and Charlie and I can chat!” The men exchange a glance, but there’s plenty of fresh meat around to sink their teeth into.

Carl flashes you a greasy smile and a wink as he walks away. Thinking clearly that you’re going to snare this woman for him. You, unfortunately, had a few others. Not something you were proud of. Demands of the job you told yourself.

“She’ll take a vodka neat,” you tell the bartender.

“Yes,” Natasha smiles at him, “Whiskey for her. Makers if you have it.” He thinks nothing of it and makes your drinks.

“So, how’s modeling in Japan?”

“Probably about as good as writing for a sleazy jackal.”

You laugh, “That bad? What’s the goal.”

“Getting a cover,” you commend the clever word play.

“That’s a good goal. Long term?”

“Something like that.” She takes a sip of her vodka, “How long are you here?”

“End of the week.” Your skin itches to touch her. The men are rounding back. You hold her gaze and shift your eyes back to them. She catches on.

“Perfect! It’s so hard to have a good interview here, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely. Why don’t you come by my hotel?” You whip out your spare key card. “I’d love to get your story for the mag, maybe do a full feature.”

“A feature would be excellent exposure!”

“Wouldn’t it?” Carl slides up next to her. “We can get you all the exposure you could want Ms. Natalie.”

“Charlie was telling me all about it.” She flashes him a coy smile. “Thank you so much Charlie! I forgot I have a late fitting tonight for another show so I’ve got to run. But we’ll chat soon yeah?”

“Absolutely! It was so good to meet you Natalie.”

“Same! Bye!” She hurries through the crowded room and disappears.

“Busy girl.” Carl quips. “Whiskey?” You look down at the glass by your hand.

“Some guy sent them over,” you gesture to Natasha’s lipstick stained glass. “Seemed rude to refuse. Can’t stand the stuff though.”

“That’s a mans drink,” Carl laughs at his own perceived joke and you force a smile.

Somehow you make it through the rest of the evening. You’d refused to allow yourself to hope that she’d be here, too obvious to come the same night, better to wait. Kicking off your shoes you head straight to the mini bar and crack open a whiskey, downing it in one gulp.

“You really need to be more careful,” Natasha’s voice comes from the bathroom. “I mean not even checking around. Sloppy.”

“Charlie Daniels doesn’t have to check for Russian assassins in her bathroom,” a smile pulls your face so tight it hurts.

“Well, Natalie Rushman isn’t a Russian spy. So…”

You let your real accent resurface as you pull her into your arms, “Natalie Rushman, I don’t know if that’s clever or lazy.” She kisses you hard, tongue sliding over your lips hands gripping your ass.

“Mmm,” she hums. “Kinda like the accent.”

“Oh?” You revert to the clipped posh Londoner sound. “Would you rather be with Charlie? I hate to break it to you, she’s strictly into dick so you may need to get a bit creative.”

Natasha’s head falls back with laughter, “I’m always into a challenge but,” she cups your face in her hands, “I’d much rather Y/N, she’s got a cute accent too.” Your kiss is soft this time, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, honey.” Gently you push a strand of hair out of her face. “Is this smart? Are you gonna get-”

“I’m good. I wouldn’t be here if I thought there was risk.” She pulls away and tugs you toward the bed. “There’s no surveillance on me here, I check in every week, that’s it. This is strictly to build a cover.”

“Cover for what?” She gives you a sideways glance. “Right. National security.”

“Do you really want to talk about work?”

Smirking at her you push her back on the bed. “Maybe later.”

You lean down to her but she stops you by planting a strappy heel in the center of your chest. Trailing your fingers down her leg you snag a knife from her thigh holster. Carefully you slide the blade under the straps, the incredibly sharp edge cuts through the thin suede like it’s nothing.

“Those were very expensive you know,” eyes sparkling with desire.

You slip the shoe off and toss it aside. “I’ll buy you a new pair.” Your lips press against her ankle.

Everything in your life until her was so fleeting. Even your own name, the sound of your own voice, who you were… But with her, you were grounded. You weren’t anything but her’s, you were Y/N.

Suddenly you’re overwhelmed. Caressing her muscular calf you just stare at her eyes. Emerald green, dark liner, lids heavy with lust and exhaustion.

“Natasha…” Your voice cracks and you fight for composure.

“Y/N? What is it?” She shoots up, cradling your face in her hands.

You shake your head, unable to really find the words and unwilling to send this storm of emotions to her. “I just…” You cover her hands with your own. It’s not that you don’t want her, you do. But…

“Can we just… I just wanna hold you…” Her expression immediately softens, eyes sparkling a touch with tears. “Sorry… I… I just…”

“I’d love that, baby.” Tenderly her lips brush yours, then your cheeks, your forehead, your eyelids as they flutter closed.

You shed your clothes and crawl into the plush bed. Holding tight to one another you spend hours drifting in and out of sleep, covering the other with soft kisses. Before the sun rises your hands wander southward.

This time you don’t fuck one another senseless. It feels like you’re trying to memorize every curve, every sound, every subtle thing that marks being together. You both know you many not get to do this for some time. The knowledge aches but it doesn’t make having her any less sweet.

Post Snap

You lean your head back on the wall behind the booth. The crying man from last night is gone, you find yourself hoping that he’s resting peacefully somewhere… even though you know it’s pointless to hope for such things.

There are more people filling the bar than there was before. The TVs are off, radios turned up, reporters frantically trying to determine what happened. It was global, that was clear. All planes grounded, trains stopped, communications spotty due to damaged cell towers.

A man speaks frantically to someone who seems to be a friend that he was heading to Nuremberg from Budapest, how the roads are almost not navigable. He doesn’t know if his family is even still there but he has to find out.

Despite his distress, your lips curl a bit at the mention of Budapest.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #black widow #queer fic #wlw

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watchmegetobsessed · 5 years

Text

Crush // Shawn Mendes mini-series part 1

okay so wow ummmm i started writing this sometime before christmas so it’s set at that time, idk i just had this idea about this story and went for it. it’s not gonna be long, not like a million parts, probably maximum five, im writing the very end of it now so i thought i would start posting it and im also trying to makeup for not bringing a new boundaries chapter lol but that’s also coming i swear!!! anyway, enjoy this short story of mine, i hope you’ll like it!!

masterlist

Christmas is always the same for me. I come home a few days before, spend most of my time on the couch watching reruns on my favorite series, I watch my younger brother, Eric come in and out of the house as he keeps meeting up with his friends, being a popular kid. I eat basically everything I can find in the kitchen and just… forget about the world. Then we have family dinner at our place with all my uncles, aunts and cousins, the house turns into a chaos for one evening and then being so selfless I help Mom clean the mess up in the morning while Dad is sleeping his hangover off, because as a host, he must have a drink with every guest. Then we watch Home Alone together and boom, Christmas is already over.

This year, I expect everything to be the same when I throw my suitcases in my old Honda Civic and head home for the holidays.

“Charlie, your family literally lives forty minutes from here, but you pack like you can’t come back if you forget something.”

I roll my eyes at Maddi’s comment. Looking up at her I just stick my tongue out as I close the trunk of my car. She is shivering, because she didn’t bother to put on her coat to help me bring my stuff down. Her long brown hair is all over her shoulders, and she has some mascara on her cheeks, probably from last night. She never cares what she looks like at home and that’s the kind of people I like to surround myself with. I’m always a hot mess at home and I just don’t get those who try to look fine when at home.

“Have fun at your sister’s,” I tell her hugging goodbye. She is leaving to New York tomorrow morning to spend the holidays at her sister who just got married this year and insisted on having their family gathering in their place this year.

“They’ll have booze, so I’m fine,” she scoffs. She is not always this grumpy, she is just not in the mood to fly to NYC on one of the busiest days of the year.

“Alright, see ya next year!” I wink at her getting into the car. She steps aside and waves for me as I leave the small parking lot of our apartment complex.

I sing along with Adam Levine while listening to some Maroon 5 on my way to the house where I grew up. I moved out after high school. Not because I hated living with my family, but I felt like this is a step I should be taking at that age. The start was rocky, I had my ups and downs, but all in all I didn’t regret it. I met Maddi, she moved to Toronto from Ottawa and was looking for someone to share a flat with. I was hesitant to live with a stranger, but we soon became best friends and I was eager to have new people in my life after my graduation. This is how we ended up together.

My heart warms as I turn into our old street. I loved living here, I have a lot of good memories from my childhood and I’m thankful I don’t have anything to complain about regarding my younger years.

I park next to my mom’s car and when I get out I see the curtains move in the window of the living room. A moment later the door opens and my dad walks out holding his arms out for me.

“Chipmunk! Hi!” he greets me with a wide smile and I basically get lost in his arms. He is so much taller than me, I look like an elf next to him. I inherited my mom’s height so I stopped at 5’6, have been that tall since I was sixteen. My brother, on the other hand, the little devil is 6’2 at fifteen, turning sixteen soon. Life is unfair, I could be a model with legs to live for if only my DNA took more from my dad.

“Hi Dad. You smell like cookies,” I chuckle. Letting go we both go to the trunk to get my stuff from the car.

“Because your mother is trying to turn the house into a gingerbread house,” he sighs grabbing both of my suitcases and we head inside.

“Why? She hates gingerbread.”

“Because your brother has his girlfriend over and she is trying to make everything so festive,” he says rolling his eyes as we finally get inside. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion.

“Girlfriend? Since when does Eric has a girlfriend?” I gasp feeling pretty much left out. No one told me Eric is dating a girl, but they keep updating me about the tiniest stuff in the group chat, like how a cat crossed the backyard last week. Who cares! I want to hear the tea about Eric’s love life!

“About three months. She is nice though, but your mother goes crazy every time she is over.”

“Three months? I’m offended, dad.”

“I thought he already told you!” he defends himself setting my stuff down.

“Charlie!” My mom comes barging out of the kitchen in the apron she got for Christmas a few years ago. Embracing me in a tight hug she kisses my forehead. “Are you hungry? We have some leftover carbonara, but I haven’t started making dinner yet. I’ve been cooking all day.”

“I heard you are into gingerbread lately.”

“Yeah, you want some? It turned out pretty good,” she smiles at me tugging her short blonde bob behind her ears. Her blue eyes are shining like a diamond, she is always so happy to have me home. It was a bit hard on her, watching her first kid leave the house, Eric said she kept checking in on him in the night the first month after I left. She got used to it by now, but she is always treating my arrival as a celebration, though I come home pretty often, namely to every birthdays, their anniversary, Easter, Christmas and a whole month in the summer, but I guess it’s not enough for her.

“Eric! Charlie is here!” she shouts upstairs for my brother. “So, hungry?” she asks again.

“Yeah, I could eat.”

We all move into the kitchen as my mom warms up a plate of pasta, Dad tests the gingerbread and I assume he doesn’t taste anything for the first three times, because he keeps eating it.

“How is Maddi? Is she going home for the holidays?” Mom asks handing me the food and getting back to decorating the rest of the gingerbreads.

“She is going to New York to her sister, Lara.”

“The one that got married this summer?” she asks.

“Mhm,” I hum with my mouth full.

I hear footsteps on the stairs and I quickly swallow the pasta, not wanting to look like a chipmunk when I meet Eric’s girlfriend for the first time. Take a guess why my dad calls me Chipmunk, I’m a full-face eater.

“Chipmunk!” Eric laughs walking into the kitchen. I roll my eyes at him.

“Shut up,” I spat. Standing up we exchange a quick side hug, this is the most we ever do. The moment I let go of him I see a girl walk in behind him.

She has long brown hair parted on the side, she is almost taller than me, the nice knitted turtleneck dress she is wearing was a great choice, it allows Eric to gape at her figure, but the turtleneck makes it more conservative for my parents. Smart girl.

“Charlie, this is my girlfriend, Aaliyah. Aaliyah, this is my sister, Charlotte.”

I hop off the stool and hold out a hand for her that she takes with a smile.

“Hi, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Oh really? I hope you didn’t believe everything this dummie told you,” I scoff looking at Eric.

“Don’t worry, from what he told me about you he is obsessed with you,” she winks at me making Eric’s eyes go wide.

“What? No I’m not!”

Aaliyah steps closer to him hugging his waist with a bright smile on her face.

“Oh, don’t be shy, on our first date you mentioned her a million times. It’s okay, baby,” she giggles to herself making me instantly love her. Roasting Eric together can be our thing!

“Eric, it’s okay to love your sister to death,” I chime in enjoying the situation more than I should be, probably.

“Aaliyah, are you staying for dinner?” Mom asks smiling at her and offering her some gingerbread. She shakes her head no but takes a cookie.

“No, my brother is also coming home tonight, so I have to go home. But thank you.”

“Oh, okay.” I can tell she is disappointed that she has to go. I guess Mom loves Aaliyah, and from what I saw I can’t blame her. In fact, she might be too good for Eric!

We all stay in the kitchen while I finish my late lunch. I chat with Aaliyah finding out that she and Eric go to the same school, the school I also attended, and that she and Eric have math together. Aaliyah tutored Eric for one of the tests that ended up with him asking her out and the rest is history. She is very nice, well-mannered and pretty mature, that’s why I don’t know how well it all sits with my immature, ass little brother’s persona. Okay, I might exaggerate, he can be fine. Sometimes.

“I’m really sorry, but I have to head home now. But that you for everything, Mrs. Parker and see you on Tuesday, right?” Aaliyah nicely says standing up from the table.

“What is on Tuesday?” I ask.

“Oh, I forgot to mention, we are having dinner at Aaliyah’s with her family, is that alright, Chipmunk?” Mom caresses my cheek and I just shrug. Not that I have any special plans for the holidays.

“I thought we are having the usual family dinner.”

“Oh no.” Mom shakes her head. “We are skipping that this year. Aunt Mary and Lance are in Switzerland, your cousins Harry and Donald are too occupied with their studies, or that’s what they say. And then…”

“Okay, I get it. Everyone I busy,” I cut her off chuckling. “Then, dinner sounds good. Hey, Aaliyah, do you need a ride home?” I offer, but she shakes her head no putting her coat on with Eric right behind her.

“No, it’s good, I live two streets down, Eric will walk me home.”

My brother nods approvingly putting his own coat on. Wow, he is whipped! Good job, Aaliyah!

“It was nice meeting you!” I smile at her.

“You too, Charlotte!” She waves goodbye, and they leave.

This year’s Christmas is starting off just the same. I watch Brooklyn 99 during the day, work on a paper that is due to after the holidays and just casually hang out with my parents and Eric. The only thing that is different that Eric always has his phone in his hands, texting Aaliyah non-stop.

On the 25th I help Mom make come cookies that we can bring over for our dinner invitation, and she asks me about my love life, as per usual.

“So, have you been on any dates lately?”

I can’t help but roll my eyes as I hand her over the milk.

“Not really,” I admit sighing. Not because I’m sad I haven’t, but because I’m tired of these questions. I’m twenty, I still have time, it’s not like I’m supposed to get married anytime soon.

“I really wish Dylan didn’t turn into an ass.” She shakes her head and I scoff.

“He didn’t just turn into one, he was always one, he was just good at fooling people.”

Dylan Sanders, aka my only ex-boyfriend. I dated him from the age of fifteen until I almost turned eighteen. It’s a long time, and I’m kinda ashamed it took me so long to realize how big of an ass he really is. The pink clouds made me blind, but fortunately, it cleared up at one point and I successfully ended our toxic relationship. Too bad this point was after I ruined all my friendships because of him and ended up on my own when we ended things. This is one of the reasons I was excited to start a new life at the university, make new friends and just stop being Dylan Sanders’ girlfriend.

“Hey, maybe Aaliyah’s brother is nice. How amazing it would be if you dated him!”

Seeing her dreamy eyes I start laughing.

“Mom! I haven’t even met him, but I know you are already planning our marriage. Stop it, please.”

“Aaliyah is pretty great, I’m sure her brother is alike her.”

“Whatever, just please don’t make it awkward,” I plea. She just waves in dismiss.

I talk to Maddi right before it’s time to leave. I’m finishing up my makeup as the phone is laying in front of me with her on speaker.

“I’m serious. Nothing is more embarrassing than being the drunkest at a family gathering,” she moans painfully.

“Maybe you learnt your lesson now,” I chuckle fixing my mascara.

“Not really. Chapter 2 comes tonight, my cousins are arriving and they are hardcore drinkers.” She sighs tiredly. “Whatever. So, dinner tonight at Eric’s girlfriend’s? How is she?”

“She is cute. Almost too good for my stinky brother, but they look cute, it’s like a puppy love.”

“Aw, that’s the best! Well, I’m interested in the details so text me when you get home.”

“Will do.”

“Charlie! We are leaving!” I hear mom shouting from downstairs.

“Gotta go, talk to you later,” I quickly say before ending the call.

I stand up and check myself one last time in the mirror. I chose to wear a mustard colored knitted jumper with a pair of black jeans and silver hoops in my ears. I grab my phone from the table and join my family downstairs.

Aaliyah really lives close to us, we don’t take the car, just walk and we arrive in about ten minutes. It’s a nice two story house, kinda typical around here.

“Please don’t embarrass me, okay?” Eric asks us right before ringing the doorbell. The kid is too in love.

Aaliyah opens the door for us in a nice nude dress and she kisses Eric on the lips shortly before we all walk in.

“Mom!” She shouts while we are taking our coats and shoes off and a blonde woman appears soon in the hallway.

“Hi! So good to have you here!” She greets us with a wide smile. “I’m Karen, and this is Manny, my husband,” she introduces herself and the man who joins us in a moment.

“I’m Evelyn, this is George and Charlotte, Eric’s sister,” Mom introduces us and we all shake hands.

As we walk into the living room where there are wineglasses waiting for us I remember that Aaliyah has a brother. Just when I realize this I hear another male voice behind me.

“Oh, and this is our son, Aaliyah’s brother,” Karen gestures towards the door and I turn around just to have my jaw drop to the floor. “Shawn.”

Shawn Mendes is standing there, shaking hands with my parents and Eric and when his eyes find me he is just as shocked as me.

“Um, hi. I-I assume we already know each other,” he mumbles stepping closer and I shake his hand very shortly. I can’t believe he is Aaliyah’s brother, how did I not see the resemblance?

“Yeah. Hi,” I say nervously and Karen gives us a confused look.

“How do you guys know each other?”

“We-“ I start, but Shawn cuts me off.

“Mom, you remember my friend, Dylan from high school? Um, Charlotte dated him for a few years,” he says uncomfortably and I feel the same.

Shawn and Dylan were best buds when we started dating. They hung out all the time and I was trying my best to be on good terms with him as well. I wanted to be friends with Dylan’s friends so badly, but Shawn… He always seemed to hate me. No matter how friendly I tried to be he was always pretty rigid and weird with me, often avoiding to be in the same room as me and he also had a few quite hurtful comments that I tried to shake off for the sake of my relationship. Oh, and the worst was when he made an attempt to break us up telling Dylan lies about me. Thinking back at it now I wish he succeed, but it was still an asshole move from him, working so against me all that time, I wish I stood up for myself, but I was so into Dylan I was willing to put up with everything, even a mean best friend.

I haven’t seen him since about, tenth grade, when he became a private student to purchase his dreams and become a singer. Dylan kept in touch with him for a while, but I think they eventually stopped talking at one point.

“For two and a half years, to be exact,” I add bitterly.

“Oh! Wait, you are…” Karen starts, but Shawn gives her an unreadable look and she quickly gets quiet. “Never mind.” I raise my eyebrows seeing the scene, it’s quite odd. What did she want to tell me about? Did Dylan tell her stuff about me when he was still friends with Shawn?

I keep thinking about it as we have a nice glass of wine and move over into the dining room where the table is already set. The two families take place around the oval shaped dining table, I have my mom on my right and Eric on my left and I’m so lucky to have Shawn right across me, staring at me, making me quite anxious.

This is too uncomfortable, I think to myself. I try my best to ignore his gaze on me, and I mostly focus on Karen and Manny. They are extremely nice though. The dinner is amazing, the parents seem to hit it off immediately finding all the common things. Aaliyah and Eric seem to be satisfied, while I just sit there, ignoring Shawn’s eyes on me.

“And Shawn, which university are you studying at?” Mom asks making Eric laugh and she gives him a confused look. “What?”

“Mom, Shawn is…” Eric starts, but I cut him off before I could even stop myself from talking.

“He is a singer, Mom.”

“A singer? Like, a famous one?”

“He was voted as one of the most influential people this year,” Eric informs her and her eyes go wide. In the meanwhile, Shawn is just sitting there with a shy smile on his face.

“I’m sorry, I’m not really good with these stuff.”

“It’s fine. But, yeah. I don’t go to school. What about you, Charlotte?”

I can’t help but cringe how he calls me Charlotte, again. He did this in the past even though I hated being called Charlotte. I had this obsession to be a tomboy and though Charlie sounds better with my image. Now I don’t mind it, but still, most people call me Charlie, and he knows it, I think.

“I- Um… I’m a student at the University of Toronto. I study literature.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely! How much do you have left?” Manny asks clearly interested in my education.

“One year.”

“And what are you planning after?” Shawn suddenly asks and I’m surprised he is interested in anything in connection with me.

“Um… I don’t know just yet,” I mumble feeling nervous in the center of attention.

“Don’t be silly, Charlie!” Mom starts rolling her eyes. “Charlie is already working on a project for a book publisher. They are working on a book especially for sick children that has stories with characters with illnesses or disabilities.”

“That sounds amazing!” Karen cheers looking at me proudly and I can feel myself blushing.

“So you are still very generous,” Shawn comments and I look up at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“Still?” He shakes his head clearing his throat as if he just realized what he said.

“Um, yeah. Dylan used to tell me how much you volunteered and stuff…” he mumbles with his eyes fixed on his plate.

Oh, so he and Dylan talked about me and he still remembers it? That’s quite surprising, I thought he forgot about me as soon as he set his foot outside of Toronto. He never seemed to be interested in anything about me.

After dessert the table breaks up. Karen and my mom starts bringing the tables back to the kitchen, Manny and Dad move to the living room and Shawn disappears somewhere. Aaliyah is helping in the kitchen while Eric is just about to join the dad section, but I pull him to the side in the hallway.

“Why didn’t you tell me Aaliyah’s brother is Shawn Mendes?” I hiss at him, but he just gives me a puzzled look.

“Why do you care? I thought you are not a fan of these celebrities.”

I roll my eyes at him.

“Yeah, but a heads up would have been good, and if you told me who he is, I would have gotten ready to meet him. We weren’t really the best of buds in school.”

“Okay, and how would have I known? I was eleven when you and Dylan got together, even if you told me about Shawn, I wouldn’t remember it for my life. And besides, what is your problem with him? He is cool and nice.”

“Now he is, but he was an ass when I was dating Dylan.”

“Okay, well… that’s the past. Get yourself over it.”

He pats my shoulder before walking away. I growl in annoyance, because he is right, he couldn’t have known my past with Shawn. I don’t think I shared anything with him back then, it was way before our relationship matured and could actually talk without getting into a fight on the floor. All siblings need time to get over this phase. Ours ended sometime right before I moved out.

I rub my face to pull myself together and turning around I’m about to go after Eric and join the conversation in the living room, but then Shawn appears on the stairs and I stop.

“Hey,” he quietly says and I nod at him awkwardly. I have no idea how to deal with this situation. “So… I know, it’s awkward after all these years.”

“Yeah, it is,” I chuckle with a grimace.

“Are you… How are you and Dylan these days?”

“I have no idea how he is. After we broke up in senior year I saw him once. Two years ago at McDonald’s with some blonde chick.”

“Why did you two break up?” he asks it nosily. I find it pretty weird to stand here, at the Mendes house’s hallway with Shawn Mendes and talk about my breakup with my high school sweetheart.

“Um… He cheated on me with Kristi Burgess.”

“Ouch,” he frowns. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I shrug. “I cried for about a month, but I guess I’m over it now,” I say jokingly and he also cracks a smile.

There is a short silence that is rather awkward, I don’t know if I should say something, or just walk away, but he is the first one to speak up.

“Listen. I know I was quite the asshole back in high school and I’m sorry for that. I’ve matured, I changed and I thought that maybe… we could start over. I haven’t talked to Dylan in years either and I was acting like a douche because I thought it was impressing him. I was so stupid.”

I can relate to that. Dylan had this power over people, he could make them want to satisfy him and make him impressed, but it’s all bullshit.

“This sounds great. Let’s forget about everything in connection with Dylan,” I offer and he smiles at me nodding.

“Deal. Well, it’s nice to see you again, Charlotte.”

“Okay, as a starter, you could finally call me Charlie,” I tell him chuckling.

“Yeah. Sorry, I guess I’m used to calling you Charlotte,” he apologizes. “Charlie, why don’t we join our families for another drink maybe?”

“Sounds like a plan,” I nod and I follow him into the living room.

#shawn #mendes #shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagines #Shawn Mendes Imagine #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfics #shawn mendes fanfictions #mendes army #watchmegetobsessed #crush mini series #crushes #mini series #fanfiction

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miafic · 5 years

Text

@bleedthemagicout: i wrote this up in about… well, under 30 mins and read it through once. im feeling awful so i couldn’t be bothered but this helped a little, and i hope it’s ok. i wrote up a concept i sent in (on anon i think) a little while ago.

it’s about 930 words.

—

“C’mon, Mr. W! Hurry up,” Awsten called from a few yards ahead, turning around to get a look at his former teacher as he moaned.

He seemed like he was running on a high, perhaps from the lack of sleep he had gotten the night before, but Geoff enjoyed it somewhat. The energetic boy was a nice change from the one he had to console the day prior, he thought.

Geoff sighed, quickening his pace a little to catch up with Awsten, who was now stood in the entrance to the natural history museum he’d taken an interest in. Natural history wasn’t something he’d expected Awsten to like, but there he was, excited to be there.

He smiled as he approached him, straightening out his jacket and pressing on the small creases, “alright, I’m here, I’m here.”

They entered the building together, and Geoff was quick to pay for the two of them to get in. Awsten glanced around in awe at the tall models and brightly coloured boards of information, barely listening when Mr. W asked where he would like to start. Instead, he wandered off in a random direction before he could make a suggestion.

Geoff huffed to himself in amusement as Awsten made a beeline for the gigantic T-Rex model, trailing along behind him.

They spent almost an hour in the dinosaur section alone, Geoff pausing to read every bit of information he came across while Awsten peared into glass cases full of ancient bones. Multiple times did the blonde haired boy have to drag Geoff away to move on, but he soon got bored of doing so and just let him read.

The next section was full of minerals and rocks of all shapes, colours and sizes. Awsten lit up at the sight of them, looking up at Geoff to tell him how much he’d always adored rocks and minerals.

“It’s pretty stupid, really. I’ve always wanted to start a collection, but my parents… Uh, well - you know,” he trailed off into a murmur and looked away again. “Also, they’re sort of expensive. And they just sit there, y’know? So no big deal.”

“I understand. They are rather fascinating, in my personal opinion,” Geoff agreed in hopes of lighting up the mood again, relieved when he saw the boy smile at his words.

“Yeah! I like the ones that are really weird shapes. Like, you know the sort of rocks that look like bubbles? Or the ones that are super weirdly square? Those are tight.”

He didn’t miss the face Geoff pulled at his final comment, almost reading his mind and explaining how ‘tight’ meant, more or less, ‘really cool’.

They continued to discuss their favourite rocks as they looked around, pointing at those they mentioned. Geoff read multiple signs out to Awsten, who paid attention for the most part, zoning in on his voice as he read.

It was nice, Awsten thought, to finally be doing something like this with someone he enjoyed.

The boy waited as the other continued to read all information he came across, soon becoming tired of standing around waiting to move on. He groaned, leaning against a wall as something shiny caught his eye.

It wasn’t long before the teacher managed to lose Awsten, who had stopped to stare at a large geode when Geoff wasn’t paying attention.

Glancing around the area, he furrowed his brow, “Awsten?”

Mr. W retraced his steps, going back through the section in search for the other but came up with nothing. Pressing on the creases of his jacket again, he let out a breath of air.

Approaching a woman who looked to be in her late thirties, he cleared his throat gently to gain her attention and asked, “excuse me, but have you seen a boy with blonde hair around here? Around five foot nine?”

When the woman shook her head, he deflated and thanked her anyway.

It wasn’t long before he was making his way to reception, absently fiddling with his hands as he worried.

“Hello,” he greeted the receptionist, “I seem to have lost my, um…” he paused as he searched for the word, “my friend. His name is Awsten, if you could call for him, please?”

He nodded his silent thanks as she agreed, making a brief announcement over the intercom.

Minutes later, a rather exhausted looking Awsten came into view at the top of a large, old staircase. He noticed Geoff looking worried, shaking his head and tutting. He wasn’t annoyed or upset, however. The thought of someone caring enough like that made him… Relieved, in a sense. Happy, even.

Geoff glanced up at Awsten and immediately, visibly relaxed, thanking the receptionist and quickly making his way over to the boy.

“Are you alright? I turned around and you were gone, and I couldn’t find you. I was worried,” Geoff blabbed as he looked Awsten over, making sure that he wasn’t hurt. He noticed his cocky smile and pulled his eyebrows together, “what is that look for?”

“You were worried about me? Awww,” he teased in response. “I was gone for like, twenty minutes.”

“Thirty, more like. Is it wrong to be worried about a friend?”

The words struck Awsten more than they should have, and he blinked up at Mr. W in what could only be thought of as surprise.

A friend? He saw him as his friend? That wasn’t what he expected from him, but the phrase made his chest tighten in a way, and he smiled. He grinned, actually, and found himself unable to stop.

“Nope, not at all.”

-----

THANK you, @bleedthemagicout!!!! Soooooo sweet. I love.

(This is an expansion of this post and tbh one of my favorite things that yall have come up with, so A+ all around. I was so happy to get this story today. Thank you, Gabriel!!!)

#fanfic of my fanfic #geoff #awsten #PURE #bleedthemagicout #submission

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chxrimoya · 5 years

Photo

im just posting this here so i have it later bc entertaining convo

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!

You both like anime.

You: hey whats up

Stranger: Not much, just chilling with my oniichan in my uchi you know?

You: damn wish i had an oniichan

You: im just hitoribocchi rn

Stranger: Yeah it's pretty easy to get when you are a kamisama like me you know?

Stranger: I am just a full on ikemen

Stranger: Got a harem

You: damn kamisama

You: gotta have a favorite tho right

Stranger: Of course

Stranger: Always the osananajimi

Stranger: Gotta respect the firsts

You: osananajimi always the best

You: maybe jus a little bit on tsun tsun, yknow

Stranger: Bro you understand me from my toes to my atama rn

Stranger: I like the kawaii girls that got the tsun tsun

You: damn bro im glad we could tsunagaru like this

Stranger: Bokumo I think this is a tokubestu connection

You: an honor for me to be nakama with kamisama

Stranger: I am laughing so hard rn I cant believe this is still going. Like majide??

You: sou, maji da yo

Stranger: Sounds like you study your nihongo all Majime and stuff

You: am i just gonna descend into full japanese

You: likewise my bro

Stranger: I think so my nakama

Stranger: Gotta go zenbu nihongo

You: it started as shuumi but now i have degree so

You: saikou no weeb da yo

Stranger: Oh I see bokumo started when I was a koukousei

You: i was only hontou majime when i was daigakusei

Stranger: Then I did it in Uni with a major in film minor in nihongo

Stranger: Okok

Stranger: 分かったwww

You: respect for my nakama to follow their dreams in kokosei

You: 草

You: i'm afraid i'm ちょっと下手 now from lack of use w

Stranger: これは最初に冗談だけど、ほんとに分かったwww

Stranger: Daijyoubu. I am the same

You: 感じ嫁できないｗ

You: i am a Fool in Man's Shoes

Stranger: Got my degree 3 years ago and habent studied since

You: what a fuckin mood

You: my usage is all in media consumption and music, honestly

Stranger: Okay kanjiless こらはさいしょにじょうだんだけど、ほんとにわかった

You: but i barely speak it lmao

Stranger: I see same

Stranger: I have no one to speak to

Stranger: Do you play games?

You: あぁそう、私も

Stranger: We could speak to each other! I was supposed to be sleeping so this must be fate

You: は～い

Stranger: Stay night

Stranger: If you know whatimean

You: I AM ZA BONE OBU MY SOARD

Stranger: What kind of games do you play? Any league or pubg?

You: i took a fat nap earlier so now i cant sleep

You: unmei da yo

Stranger: Hahah

Stranger: Where you from?

You: i quit league a while ago, but i was considering playing again tbh

Stranger: Omg

You: california!

Stranger: We can play together

Stranger: And talk

You: gonna have to catch me up on new meta tho

Stranger: Hey I am driving to LA in 2 hours lol

You: too many new items and changes MonkaS

Stranger: All good I'll nurture you my imouto

Stranger: XP

You: bruh good luck with the traffic lmao

You: only if i get sufficient headpats u_u

Stranger: I wanna die

Stranger: Of course you will! Uwu

Stranger: I always give cute bois headsets uwu

You: bro gimmie ya discord

Stranger: What's your discord?

You: ... bro

You: HAHA

You: eurae#9474

Stranger: We are on the same wavelength

You: icon should be of a nekomimi girl bc... im weak

Stranger: Added

Stranger: I think mine is a nekomimi boy so...

You: how can you be my kouhai if you're gonna be my oniichan :thinking:

Stranger: Shhhh

Stranger: Let it happen

You: so why you headed to LA anyway? work? o:

Stranger: Let this 23 yo onichan teach you the ways on how to be a bronze player in league of legends

You: bro we are the same age

Stranger: Work! I film!

Stranger: I am in Arizona rn

You: oh wow! do you travel a lot for work? o:

Stranger: From Canada tho! Going back tomorrow evening to the great white north!

Stranger: Here and there ^^

Stranger: I make the usual.

You: it's too hot here anyway q_q

Stranger: Wedding videos, music videos, commercials, porn

You: socal born and raised, still cant stand the heat

Stranger: Wait forget the last one

You: hey man why should i judge

Stranger: Which city?

You: how did our conversation start HAHA

Stranger: Haha just being silly xP

You: alhambra! it's about 30 mins out from LA

Stranger: Idk but it was amazing

Stranger: And it was fate legit

You: best laugh i've had in a while

Stranger: I was gonna sleep

You: honestly

Stranger: Before I clicked

Stranger: Then for some reason I didn't

Stranger: Idk shy

You: honestly i was about to close omegle because i kept getting kik bots

Stranger: Right????

Stranger: My god

You: "M 17 and horny" boy you are a MINOR

Stranger: The tag japanese is ONLY BOTS

Stranger: That's the one!!!

Stranger: Looking for weeb gf??

You: chris hansen? hello?

You: YEAH

You: almost got fuckin whiplash

Stranger: Omg

You: LOL

Stranger: Get Christmas on the line

You: konnichiwa keisatsu desuka?

Stranger: So you are Male too right just wondering?

Stranger: Loooool

You: 女だよ

Stranger: へええまじで

You: そうよ！変かなぁ？ｗｗ

You: girls dont exist on the internet right lmao

Stranger: Well in that case *flexes arms* I hope you know I am at the top of my class. I main Vayne. Hit silver 3 last season yeah I am a total stud

Stranger: Hahaha right??? I play with a few actually and it is toooo funny when we play league with randoms xD

You: bro i can be your support and get mad when i flash+all in and die bc no one else followed up

Stranger: Hontoni omoshiroi

You: or jungle and feed

Stranger: Looo

Stranger: All seriousness

Stranger: I dont main Vayne anymore lol

You: it's been an age man, i played season 3-4

Stranger: I main twitch hit plat this season and also play a bit of top. I would love to play with you though! <3

Stranger: Damnnnnn I started in s5 lol

Stranger: What do you play nowadays?

Stranger: What are your hobbies?

You: my high school was chock full of league peeps man, i just got pulled in around then

Stranger: Same but I have a story about that hH

You: i draw? and for games, I lean pretty heavily into strategy/jrpg

You: i... quit league cause i got to be a picturesque toxic league player >____>

Stranger: I have too much I wanna talk about and I gotta sleep hehe I wont be home till late so talk to you day after? If you have tele you can text me there too uwu

You: oh yeah!! :3 we can trade numbers later!

Stranger: Ooh I would love to see your drawings and being toxic is bad! XP

You: wouldn't want you to die on yr 2 hr drive at 5mi/hr

You: LOL

Stranger: HahH

Stranger: Do you have telegram?

You: i don't! is that like a texting app? o:

Stranger: Mhmm! With loooooots of cute stickers!

You: s...stickers

Stranger: Mostly furries use it but it has cute anime ones too

You: i tried to use line for a while because of the stickers (poptepipic what's gud) but no one else used it qq

Stranger: Yeah! Just download it and I'll teach you!

You: guess it's time to make a fursona!

You: LOL

Stranger: I used line when I lived in Japan haha

You: o: you lived in japan omg

Stranger: Yup guess so! XD everyone has one nowadays! :p

Stranger: Download it and let me know wha TV your @ is and I'll add you!

Stranger: What your* not tv looool

Stranger: I did yeah for a year

You: does it go by name?

You: ... "tams loves catgirls"

Stranger: My tele is @imyourkohai

Stranger: If you go to send a message you can put that in and message me

Stranger: Lol yes that is right hahah

You: haha okay, i should let you get to sleep!!

Stranger: Okay!!!

You: do you have a call time or anything? o:

Stranger: Nini

Stranger: Nah just a meeting all g :3

You: okay!! haha oyasumi~ we'll talk more tmr :3

Stranger: Ouasumiii

Stranger has disconnected.

#Omegle #Hamex

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