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undiscovered-horizon · 1 year

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would you ever do a chubby/plus-size!reader? i would love to see and 11th doctor x chubby!reader where they go to a formal and it’s the first time he sees reader glow like that, since she often hides herself in baggy clothes.

kinda hurt/comfort vibes. ahh i feel like 11 would be such a romantic dork, feeling all star struck. 🥺 not understanding why she thinks she’s anything but the most beautiful person in all the universes. because that’s how he sees her 😭💕

🫀REQUESTS ARE OPEN🫀 || Doctor Who-inspired playlist

"Blessing me" - 11th Doctor x chubby!Reader

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.5k

Looking for an alien on an intergalactic banquet sounded like a blockbuster space opera but there was the tiniest detail that turned it all into a nightmare - being part of it yourself. Banquets, as it befits them, mean elegant people in fitted clothes and with graceful manners. In a bitter way, it was hilarious to you as it seemed like banquets were everything you didn't have. Nevertheless, it wasn't something you could just opt out of - you signed up for the charming and deranged yourself.

Sometimes being clothed felt worse than being naked and you were painfully aware of that at the moment. Maybe most of your skin was underneath the material but still, it felt like it creased and tightened in all the wrong ways and places as if it sprouted a mind of its own that was determined to make you look the worst way possible; like it wanted to show the entire universe just how ungraceful or inelegant you were, how out of place. The dress itself was absolutely gorgeous: pion purple velvet, leg slit, cleavage... It truly looked taken straight from a magazine cover. Except you could hardly call yourself a cover girl.

The moment he heard the creak of the hinges, the Doctor moved away from the side of the TARDIS that he had been leaning against. His expression became worryingly blank when his eyes fell on you: he could either be a victim of a storm of chaotic, dismembered thoughts or a complete lack thereof. It was hard to tell which one. For some reason, it looked like he was frozen in time for a moment, with no movement or even blinking. He just... stared.

"Do I... look okay?" you asked hesitantly.

The Doctor suddenly shook awake. Immediately, his eyes wandered off and he refused to look at you again. Still, putting on a brave and certainly aloof face, he clasped his hands and turned in the direction you two should be heading:

"Yes, right, lovely. Let's go."

He just began walking away without a care in the world, more interested in the imminent danger than you. His remarkable lack of engrossment sprouted a sinking feeling in your stomach like a lead globe pulling you underground, the dread stealing your ragged breath.

"Oh God, he can't even look at me," you whispered to yourself. Your day was about to get worse as if it wasn't bad already.

Not having much experience in walking in heels, you were doing a silly, fearful trot trying to catch up with the Doctor and his long strides. But your attempt at running wasn't the only silly thing - you felt it was all of you. Finally daring to wear something else than loose jeans and a jumper only to remember why it was your exclusive clothing choice in the first place.

The ballroom was filled with aliens most of which you'd never seen before even after all this time and adventures with the Doctor - your world was still tiny. The place was packed. Every person you laid your eyes on looked fascinating even if not exactly beautiful by human standards. They left a lasting impression that made you all the more conscious about your own outstanding looks. Not the good outstanding, to be clear.

"So, looking for an alien, right?" You tried your best to seem unbothered and collected. Whether you were successful or not, Doctor's attitude remained the same: avoidant.

He was answering you while squeezing past various alien specimens in relatively elegant attire. It was difficult to hear what exactly he was saying as laughter and music echoed through the ballroom. "Yes. Well, no. An android built by an alien."

"Tomato, tomato. We're still looking for something not human on an intergalactic charity ball. It's like looking for a needle in a haystack."

The Doctor stopped abruptly. You were watchfully following his gaze and it felt like time slowed down as you saw him glance at you and hurriedly look away. He was nervously rubbing his hands. "Well then, let's find a magnet. Shall we?"

As if he wasn't a strange enough man already, the Doctor's behaviour only became more bizarre. Sometimes you'd notice, out of the corner of your eye, his curious but reluctant gaze as if he wanted to look at you but didn't want anyone else to know. Perhaps, he didn't want you to know.

The dread only continued to pull you towards the ground, the tips of your fingers turning cold and trembling. A panic raised in your chest, and obsessive thoughts kept rushing you to just go, just leave and disappear - like you were never meant to be in this place at this time.

The aforementioned lead sphere kept dragging you and dragging until you've known nothing else except desperation and panic. You needed to know the reason, to either burn in shame or laugh at your far-fetched conclusions. Whatever the answer was, you had to end that dreadful silence.

"Why won't you look at me?" you asked him.

"What? I am looking at you, what are you on about?" Despite his reassurance, he hardly gave a glance vaguely in your direction.

He kept on leading you through hotel-like corridors, guiding you to a destination he never thought to disclose. The Doctor's attention was focused on the painfully mundane furnishing: ferns, brackets, dusty oil paintings, nauseating carpets and doors that had been repainted a little too many times.

"See? Even now, we're talking and you're staring everywhere but at me. If I look hideous, just say it and let's get over it."

"Hideous?" he repeated as he suddenly stopped walking. He looked over his shoulder at your but only for a short moment. "Of course you don't look hideous, why would you say that?"

"Well, I'm not blind," you said as you vaguely pointed at your body. It was a nice euphemism, a lot less raw and honest than consciously thinking about the graceful, elegant aliens you were surrounded by. "Which is exactly why I noticed you've been refusing to look me in the eye ever since we got here. Why's that? Just... just be honest. For God's sake, just tell me why."

"Because I can't!" he suddenly raised his voice. Whatever nerve you struck, it was a quite prominent one.

"Can't or won't?"

"Both I suppose."

"But... why?" Perhaps if it was so difficult to get an honest answer from him, you shouldn't want to learn it, after all. Maybe there was a reason he kept circling around the truth.

"A Christmas tree!" he exclaimed with excitement. His eyebrows raised ever so slightly. "Everyone loves a Christmas tree. It's lovely, it's gorgeous. Very distracting. Best not to look at it if you've got work to do."

"I'm... distracting?" Although he made it sound fairly good, a distraction could hardly be considered an advantage of any sort. Especially in your current line of business.

"A lot more than I'm willing to admit. Now come on, we've got the universe to save."

The Doctor was about to turn around and probably run off straight into the jaws of danger hiding behind the corner but you grabbed his arm. "No, hold on a minute. You're not going to elaborate?"

"I think I made myself clear, didn't I?"

"Not exactly. 'Distracting' is a little ambiguous, don't you think? Do you mean good distracting or bad distracting? Butterflies of mosquitos?"

He pulled his hand out of your grasp. His eyes stared at your face in a manner so intense, so passionate, it nearly made you want to look way as if his gaze could burn through your skin. The Doctor was bursting at the seams, all the words he hadn't said seeping through.

"I mean distracting as in the whole universe could implode and I wouldn't care because you're here. 'I could die a happy man because I've seen you' kind of distracting."

Your mind was filled with static and even that was an understatement. Maybe you heard him wrong? Or he never said anything close to admiration and you were simply overinterpreting his intentions? Silently, you stared at him. For the first time that day, he also stared at you as if he finally gave in to an urge. At that moment, his eyes dared not look away.

"You keep on blessing me and it makes my mind go all stupid and it's distracting. Does that settle it?"

"Yeah," you answered although you didn't quite believe your own words. Truth be told, you weren't sure what to say or think. How does one accept such a confession? "Yeah, I think it does."

A distant crash and blood-chilling scream distracted both of you from the intimate words. Maybe, in some funny way, it was the android that found you, instead of the proper way around.

"Great! Now let's go on a little hunting trip."

Perhaps his eyes couldn't stay on you but his thoughts never left your side.

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dazoru · 6 months

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\\HEADS UP 4.2 SPOILERS TO ANYONE WHO HASNT DONE IT

I have to agree with your stance on the AQ. I almost fooled myself into thinking it wasn’t good when the reality was I thought it was amazing but having to see so much grief throughout the quest knocked me out (in a good way). From the first 10 minutes where it was completely reasonable to see Navia break down after staying strong in front of the victims of the sudden flood, and her final bittersweet goodbye to Silver and Melus - wow. I’ve seen people deal with grief and if anything Navia was so damn strong for keeping it together. I’d be bawling for days girl like huh. And if you think about it, with how Fontaine has a strong theme of deception (like everyone is hiding something about themselves), isn’t it refreshing to have Navia who is so incredibly genuine and earnest with her intentions and her want to help everyone? I love her a lot.

Then we were hit with the gradual masking of Furina?

Like - we almost had her open up but then it was revealed we were in the Opera house. This was made worse later on when the traveller saw her inner dialogue during that moment was “surely I’m allowed to put myself first for the first time in 400 years?”. As the human side of Focalor, Furina was absolutely outstanding and selfless. Ohhh my God and the way Furina thinks of her suffering as a kind of “price” or sacrifice to pay for saving Fontaine? Direct contrast to earlier dialogue about how Silver and Melus should not be seen as a mere prices?? FURINA YOU’VE DONE SO MUCH MY LOVE

As much as it pains me that we didn’t get to see her at the end of the AQ to check on her, I guess it makes sense? If you were performing for 400 years and you finally get a chance to crawl away from watchful eyes like you wanted, I think it’s reasonable to just. Want to go away for a bit. But God I really really wish her all the best with finally being allowed to live as herself and not as someone else.

There’s so much to talk about I can’t condense it all. Even small details like a random audience member saying “wait, the death sentence? Isn’t that too harsh? Her only sin was making us!” made my heart clench. Furina begging her people to believe her because she is terrified that they will drown since her facade has been the only thing keeping the flood at bay. AND she will blame herself for not doing enough. Neuvi going “after 500 years, you think I would have the heart to proclaim them as guilty?” Focalor’s goodbye to Furina being “you can now live as a human like I always wished we could.” OUGHHH

Anyway. Wow. I just,,, yeah. I really really liked the quest in all honesty. I needed a good cry and I got it. To each their own opinion, and everyone has a right to not like things in the game. But personally to me this was fantastic.

I'm so glad you sent me this because I'm about to totally lose it about the archon quest in this reply.

Below are further spoilers for the 4.2 archon quest

I totally agree with you on the grief thing, and upon reflection and sleeping on it I think the fact I did this quest all in one continuous sitting over the course of hours added to my previous mixed feelings, just because it was SO MUCH sadness in such a short space of time that it kinda made me associate the quest with feelings of sorrow.

Had I completed the archon quests in parts, having gone away and came back to it later, I feel I'd have handled it better, but I can't stop myself from doing archon quests in one sitting, it's in my DNA to complete them all at once LOL

Navia's bit at the start... Oh it had been about 20 minutes into me playing and I was crying buckets. Full on sobbing.

I play in English and when I tell you her voice actress had RENT DUE because her crying, her voice, everything just broke my heart I literally was like okay great it's not even been half an hour and I'm broken for her, what the fuck.

As soon as I saw Silver and Melus weren't with her I teared up cause I was like they're dead, aren't they? And then I just kept crying anytime they were brought up, and then when they saved her from the primordial sea :(

Navia is a very good character, I love her, she's so authentic and genuine and strong it's made me wanna pull with her purely to spoil her because it's what she deserves.

On to Furina, my heart has ACHED for her since we found out the truth.

I always loved her, and I always thought she did have some sort of plan ever since she reacted with such anger to Arlecchino's insinuation that she was ignoring the prophecy and doing nothing. It was raw real anger from Furina which of course we now understand. It contrasted so harshly with what the game was showing us her acting like, plus Neuvi saying that she is 'taking the prophecy very seriously', that made me go 'we do not know the whole truth', and I was right but FUCK it was in a way I'd never have been able to predict.

WHEN I REALIZED WE HAD TRANSPORTED HER TO THE OPERA HOUSE I STARTED CRYING AGAIN I wanted to wrap her in a blanket and protect her. I totally understand why the trial took place, from the perspective of the other characters there is an impending doomsday that will wipe out the entirety of Fontaine's population, from their perspective it made sense and was justified because they weren't hearing Furina's thoughts and thought crucial information pertaining to the prophecy was being withheld from them, both them and Furina had the shared goal of protecting Fontaine - but that didn't mean that whole section didn't hurt like Hell to complete.

She thought her world was falling apart, after so many years of dedicating herself entirely to this role in order to save her nation she thought it was ALL over and those 146848 scenes (WHICH btw when it changed to THAT number of scenes I was BAWLING, what a hard hitting way to show her continuous suffering in a way that's so impactful) were for nothing.

You know I didn't even realize the Silver and Melus/Furina price thing until you just said it, oh mannnnnnn this fucking archon quest.

It's sore, but you're right - showing her at the end of the quest and us speaking with her would not have made sense. Giving her space after that made the most sense narratively but it definitely also made me feel like we had no sort of closure on her wellbeing (I'm sure her story quest gives us some of that) so that also added to my pain at the end because I was like ... The last time I saw her she was walking through the city as those people yelled 'the prophecy was wrong', and I hope she knows that the prophecy was only 'wrong' BECAUSE of what she did. The prophecy was wrong because of YOU, my love

She deserves a happy and peaceful life doing all the things she loves from now on.

Also, I presume she's mortal now? I'm sure Focalors made the point of saying her existence was what increased Furina's lifespan so like - now she's a whole mortal human being...

There's so many thoughts that have come from this quest.

The Oceanid reveal was so good, like you said that NPC saying her sin was making them, and now believing she'll be sentenced to death for it... Oh god.

The begging, her saying 'believe me I AM your archon' the slow descent into her crying because she believes it's all over when in reality she was FINALLY at the end, the fact she never knew when the end was coming she didn't know this was meant to happen she wasn't aware this was finally the end of her pain

Oh Neuvillette declaring the citizens of Fontaine innocent is one of my favourite moments in the entire game now.

Having had time to process it, I agree, this is one of the best stories in the game and it was told incredibly well and the whole thing was so fucking emotional I felt like I got battered after I finished it.

#4.2 spoilers #genshin spoilers

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swagginmun · 2 years

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So, that spaceship lego set / blood monkies may have given me a few ideas. [ That one image illustration of the blood monkies in the upper left is by @/VAPEDOQ! ]

#lego monkie kid #macaque monkie kid #macaque #six eared macaque #swaggindoodles #swagginart #OKay first I thought oh god they are going to have a space opera #and then i thought #wait duh these monkies are upgraded shadow clones #AND THEN I thought #oh god are they going to pull a gurren lagann and have a massive mech fight in the middle of a galaxy #aND THEN i thought #Mac the little drama king would rock a new outfit....#and so here we are :)))))))))))))))

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ginemrys · 3 years

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a bedsharing fic!! <3

i had some fun with this one!!! thank you for sending in the prompt @sunshine-marauders <3

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“Lily, it’s okay, we’ll grab a room in a hotel, it’s not the end of the world.” James said as the two of them stood staring up at the boards in the centre of Euston station, tears in Lily’s eyes as she read the bright orange “CANCELLED” sign beside their train, the last train of the night that would get them home.

It had been a wonderful night of visiting the theatre with one of her best friends, getting lost in a musical for a few hours. The two of them had been singing songs from the show to each other on the tube on the way back to their station, not caring as they got weird stares from other passengers on the Northern line whilst they sang a beautiful rendition of All I Ask Of You. And sure, Lily had felt her heart beat a little faster when they reached the point of the song where Christine and Raoul kiss as she looked into James’ eyes, but that didn’t mean she liked him. It just meant that she understood the character, right?

But their sing-along had come at a price. They’d missed their stop. And the next after that. Then the next. It wasn’t until the last passenger left besides them on the train got off at Golders Green that they’d realised their mistake. And then they’d had to run and get the tube back to Euston, only to just miss one. A three minute wait later and they were finally heading back to Euston, getting off to discover that the last train to Northampton was cancelled. And they were stranded in London.

Lily was wiping furiously at her eyes. They’d stopped for a drink in a bar after the show, assuming that they’d have enough time. So the alcohol in her system heightened her emotions, resulting in the water works. James was scrolling through his phone, looking for the closest hotel.

“There’s a Travelodge or a Premier Inn, they’re fairly close. Everything else is ridiculously expensive.” James said, glancing up at her. “Which would you prefer?”

“Premier Inn, duh.” Lily said, pushing her hair out of her face. “Are you sure we can’t get a taxi?”

“From Euston to Leighton Buzzard?” James shook his head. “It’ll be cheaper to spend the night. Come on, it won’t be that bad. It’s just a short walk and then we can grab some breakfast in the morning before heading home.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “What do you say?”

“Fine,” Lily shoved his side playfully, but leaned into his hold after. “But you’re buying breakfast, you’re the one who suggested drinks.”

“Deal.” James chuckled before ducking to kiss the top of her head. “Come on, let’s go. It’s late and we’re both shattered.”

And so they made their way out of the station, following Google Maps to the closest Premier Inn. It was dead quiet inside, just one sleepy receptionist behind the desk barely able to hold her head up.

“Hi, how can I help?” She asked in a monotone voice, having just blinked at the two of them a few times as if she was trying to figure out if they were real or just her imagination.

“Hey, we missed the last train home. Do you have any rooms for tonight?” James asked, running his hand through his hair. Lily watched his movements, eyes following the motion of his fingers brushing through the messy black curls. She wanted to do that, run her hands through his hair. Chill out, Lily. She mentally berated herself, barely hearing the conversation beside her as she tried to sort out whatever the hell was going on with her hormones at that moment.

“Lily?”

“What?”

“Are you good with sharing a bed? There’s only doubles left.”

Holy shit. The thought of sharing a bed with James both thrilled and terrified her. Would she be able to control herself around him? The not crush but definitely a crush that she’d been harbouring for him for the last few months might rear its ugly head and make her do something stupid. But then again, she really didn’t want to have to walk all the way to the Travelodge and have the exact same option, or no room at all.

So she nodded, blushing when James grinned and turned back to the receptionist, passing over his card. Lily tried to protest but he insisted that she could just send him half the money later to save time. Then before she knew it she was joining him in the lift, heading up to the fifth floor. Of course James had had the foresight to ask for some toothbrushes and toothpaste, Lily was far too occupied to even consider such a thing.

Lily decided that she was going to hum to herself the overture to Phantom of the Opera as they travelled up to their floor, her eyes fixed on the ceiling of the lift. And then James’ hand was in hers, pulling her out of the lift and down the corridors of the fifth floor until they came to a stop in front of their room. He swiped the key card and there they were, alone, in a room with one bed.

Her throat felt thick as Lily looked at the double bed, why did it look so tiny? She stood in the small space beside the open wardrobe and the bathroom while James flicked on the lights and moved further into the room, peeling off his jacket and kicking off his shoes as he went.

“Come on, Evans. It’s just a place to sleep.” He smiled at her as he said it, noticing her hesitance. Damn him for being so perceptive to her emotions all of the time. With a deep breath, Lily walked further into the room, setting her shoes beside his while her own jacket draped over the top of his on the chair.

“Here, toothbrush.” He said, passing her one of the two clear toothbrushes he had picked up. “I’ll let you use the bathroom first, gentleman as I am.”

“Oh, so kind.” Lily rolled her eyes while grinning at him, accepting the toothbrush gratefully. She shut herself up in the bathroom, immediately rushing to the sink to splash some water on her face. Why was she so warm? “Get it together, Evans.” She muttered to herself, glancing at her reflection. She sighed as she looked at her makeup, minimal as it was, she had nothing to remove it with. Which would almost certainly result in panda eyes in the morning, but what other choice did she have?

So she left her face alone and focused on brushing her teeth, being a little more thorough than she usually would so James wouldn’t have to wake up to horrific morning breath. God, James was going to see her first thing in the morning. Christ on a bike. She filled one of the small glasses by the sink with water to rinse out her mouth, then gulped another glass down.

James was sitting perched on the edge of the bed when she returned, his eyes meeting hers straight away. Damn, did this man ever stop smiling?

“All… All yours.” Lily said quietly, stepping out of the way as he moved to head into the bathroom.

“Thanks, Lil.”

The door locked behind him and she released a deep breath again, her fingers moving shakily to undo her jeans. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep in them, so wanted to get them off and climb under the covers before he could come back. He wouldn’t want to see her in her underwear.

Jeans folded, with her bra tucked safely beneath them, Lily climbed into the left side of the bed, hoping he didn’t mind that she preferred the left. She plugged her phone into the socket next to her bed, thanking her past self for packing her charger in her bag. And then she waited, sitting cross-legged beneath the duvet as she listened to the sounds of the tap running.

The bathroom door opened and Lily had to do her best not to gasp. He’d taken his shirt off. It wasn’t even like it was the first time she’d seen him shirtless either, but seeing him in a dimly lit bedroom right before he was about to be laying right next to her was something else.

“You don’t mind if I sleep in my boxers, do you?” He was asking, his eyes having taken note of her folded jeans.

Lily shook her head, doing her best to look him in the eyes rather than drool all over his bare chest like some hormonal teenage girl watching Magic Mike for the first time. But then he turned his back on her and was pushing his jeans over his hips and Lily couldn’t help but stare. It was actually so unfair how fit her best friend was now, she could still remember the scrawny little kid she used to swim in the local lake with.

Any shred of sanity Lily had left vanished when he turned to face her again, she could feel a wave of heat rushing all over her body. And he’d seen it happen, had seen her eyes darken and her gaze shift into something hungry.

But he ignored it, electing to just climb into bed beside her and turn out the light, facing away from her.

With a slight huff, Lily threw herself down against her pillow, gazing up at the dark ceiling. Her arms were folded over her chest, her legs still crossed like they had been when she’d been sitting. While annoyed that he’d not responded to her sex eyes, she also just felt embarrassed. Because she’d totally just objectified him, looked at her best friend in the whole world like he was a tree for her to climb and use. And she hated herself for it.

“I can hear you thinking, Evans.” James whispered through the darkness, his back still facing hers. “Relax.”

And she did, her hands slid to rest on her stomach, her legs unfolded and moved to rest against the mattress. Her eyes closed and she let out a small sigh. And then he had to go and roll over, his breath on her neck.

While she knew she should just ignore it, squint her eyes and try to sleep, Lily couldn’t help but turn her head on her pillow, her eyes opening once more. And there he was, looking at her. No glasses, his hair already made even messier than usual from the pillow. He just looked so soft.

Usually James was all sharp edges and angular, charisma dripping from every inch of his body. He was sarcastic and energetic and never ever seemed to get tired. But there, laying in bed beside him, he seemed so calm, so at peace. His sharp edges had blurred, softened by the look in his eyes as he gazed at Lily. And that was what he was doing, gazing.

It didn’t take her much to lean in, just one look from him was enough. Her body turned on the mattress as she shifted to reach his lips, her own brushing his softly. And then she moved to pull away, to see his reaction when he moved, his hand sliding to the back of her neck to drag her closer. His lips covered hers and by god, did it feel right. Lily’s hand came to rest on his chest as she kissed him eagerly, their mouths pressing together in a perfect dance, nothing too eager or too slow.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for months.” Lily whispered when they broke apart, her eyes still closed.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for years.”

She looked at him then. There was no trace of a lie in his eyes. She believed him, because of course she did. James never lied to her.

And then she tackled him against the bed and thanked the London Northwestern Railway gods for cancelling the last train home.

#jily fan fic #jily drabble #jily fic

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perriewinklenerdie · 3 years

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Follow my steps (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Claire Herondale

Word count: 3,8 k

Summary: OH3 Chapter 12/13 added content. Claire gets fed up with the way Ethan’s been treating her lately. She gives him one last chance to make things right, at Boston Opera House - for old time’s sake.

Warnings: It’s angst time.

A/N: I don’t even know what’s going on lately. I wanted angst and here it is. My girl C really is running thin on her patience for her man’s bullshit (and so am I).

Are you okay? was the first message he received from her that day. He left shortly after he revealed his departure from the team, so her concern really should be no surprise. Still, he sighed deeply, silenced his phone and turned it screen side down, then went back to cooking, unsure what his answer would be.

Minutes dragged by, yet somehow turned into hours and before he knew it, the sun was racing towards the horizon. Almost completely consumed by it. He reached for his phone, planning on heading to his living room and rest his mind after he spent what felt like ages of grueling research into his options. His face twisted into a frown at the sight of his screen. Immediately after, blood drained from his face.

Ethan, please let me know you’re in one piece.

A simple ‘I’m fine’ would be enough. Seriously, I’m getting worried.

He battled with his brain, still uncertain what to tell her. She had enough on her plate with the team and the Boards, she didn’t need his problems to be added onto the already enormous pile. He replied with the only thing he could think of in that moment, resenting himself for letting her worry about him for so long.

I’m okay.

By the time he sat down on the couch and some ridiculous show was playing in the background – Claire was the one that introduced him to it, and he would never admit it, but he enjoyed their debates about it – a new message was waiting for him.

Oh, thank god.

Followed shortly after by a longer one, contents of which made him feel a pit opening in his stomach.

So, want to share with class why you went radio silent for the whole day, instead of, I don’t know, letting your girlfriend know that you’re not dead so she could worry a bit less?

He had no answer to that. How was he supposed to tell her that he was terrified of what was to come and that it could possibly be fatal for him? How was he supposed to say that he didn’t want her to be even associated with the case, because he cared about her too much to risk her getting affected by it too?

In the end, he didn’t reply. And she didn’t say anything else. An impasse, of his own doing, that he had no idea how to end. He knew he had to do something – she was a very patient woman, much more patient than him, but even she had her limits. And this? This wasn’t the first time he’s pushed her away in a similar manner.

Although he was aware of that, he still refused to call her. It was getting late, she was probably studying or getting ready for bed. She needed her rest, the next week was incredibly important for her future as a doctor.

That’s what he told himself for the next two days. Every time he felt a tingle in his hand to contact her, he reminded himself of her commitments and pushed the thought down. Despite that, every single time his phone made even the smallest sound, he threw himself towards it, hoping that it was her.

It wasn’t. Two days of no contact between them.

Realizing how long it’s been made him think of their conversation a few months back. They were sitting in the exact same place he currently occupied, close to each other. His hand holding hers with certainty.

They promised each other no more secrets. No more pushing each other away. And honest conversation. All of which were his ideas. He whispered all of them with deep sense of urgency, in a fever-like state that surprised her. She nodded her head eagerly, muttering words of affirmation, then let him pull her onto him, their lips meeting again and again in a soft reassurance.

He’s broken the rules he wanted them so much to have. And not even once. No wonder she didn’t try to get in touch with him – he’s given her every indication that he didn’t want to talk about it, and she pushed only until a certain point was reached.

“I can take a hint, you know.” She once joked, poking his ribs when they walked out of the patient’s room, their initial consult being far from ideal. He smiled sadly at the memory, his chest aching from her absence.

As though he called her with his thoughts, his phone announced an incoming message. He planned what he would say, what he would do once he saw her – and what he would not do in the future. He hated when they didn’t talk to each other, and he hated the thought of losing her even more.

Instead of her words, like he expected, the screen greeted him with a single picture she sent him. Two tickets, for an evening show at Boston Opera House. A clear invitation, an olive branch that she should not have been pushed to extend – she didn’t do anything wrong. He looked closer at the photo, zooming in on the time the show was supposed to start.

Two hours. He had two hours to get himself together. Two hours until he’d see her again.

Heart pounding, he jumped up from his seat and began preparations, dialing another phone number and giving clear instructions to the person on the receiving end of the call.

He doesn’t think there’s ever been a time he was this nervous when stepping into the Opera building. And it was a different kind of nervous, a kind he never wanted to experience again. He was used to the anticipation that came with every date they ever had, the good kind of nervousness that stemmed from his inability to wait until he saw her. This, however, was torture in its purest form, and he admitted to himself with a pang of guilt that he subjected himself to it on his own.

His hands were full. Full of flowers that the florist somehow managed to put together when he called frantically two hours ago – he left a hefty tip with a grateful nod. His fingers traced the stems of the white roses, shaking nervously. From time to time, he tugged on the collar of his shirt, restlessly, the uncertainty of what was to come making his breathing labored.

“Nice tux.” She called out, waiting patiently for him to face her. It didn’t take long – her voice made him turn around haphazardly, his eyes drinking in her face and then widening when he noticed the dress she was wearing. Suddenly, he couldn’t see anything else but the way the fabric hugged her in the classiest way.

“Are you trying to kill me?” he breathed out, his brain short circuiting. Her lips curled in a subtle smile. She touched the pearl necklace he once gave her in wonder.

“Haven’t decided yet.”

Ethan took a step towards her, extending the bouquet slightly with an uneasy look. Her eyes fell towards the flowers and, for a moment, he thought he could see her gaze softening. She took the roses from him, the scent reaching her in waves.

“Thank you.” she muttered without looking up at him. Despite her being just mere centimeters away from him, he could still feel the chasm between them – and he felt like the space was suffocating him.

“It’s not nearly enough.” He tried again. Claire hummed, not disagreeing with his words. She reached into her purse, taking two tickets out and handing him one of them. He accepted it gratefully, combing his mind for something that would start a conversation between them. The silence was killing him.

He looked closer at the ticket and noticed something was off. “You didn’t book our booth?”

The corners of her lips shot up slightly at ‘our’. “No, I got us seats in the booth on the other side. I needed…” she hesitated, avoiding his searching gaze. “A change of perspective.”

His mouth opened and closed. She rarely said anything without thinking it through, so the choice of words she used made him feel unease all over again. Claire finally looked up at him, giving him a teasing smirk.

“Before you say anything, I didn’t go bankrupt because of those.” She nodded towards the tickets in their hands. “I have more than enough money to spend on things I want.”

“That resident salary is treating you that well, huh?” he tried joking and it worked. She gave him a laugh, shaking her head.

“A resident that’s also on the Diagnostic Team. And you’re clearly forgetting what my family does for a living.”

“Did you just flex your family muscle on me?” Ethan grinned, taking another step towards her. She nodded, challenging him with her stare. “Are you trying to impress me?”

“That’s your job tonight, babe.” Claire shot back, walking around him swiftly. He froze in place, turning towards her like a sunflower towards the sun – always following where she went. Her hips swayed from side to side alluringly as she walked, and he couldn’t look away. Suddenly, she stopped to look over her shoulder, smirking at the look he was giving her. “Are you coming or not?”

The lights from the stage illuminated her face just enough for him to see her features. Since they sat down and the show has started, he’s spent a total of maybe five minutes watching what was happening on stage. Remaining time was occupied by her, on the forefront of his mind and right before his eyes. Her cheeks were reddened slightly – something he noticed when a particularly bright light shone on her face.

They’ve done it countless of times before. Dates. He never got used to nerves that accompanied them, and he hoped he never would. It was a part of the allure that made it all the more exciting. Claire’s always made him feel nervous, since the first day he’s met her. Three years later, he still felt the same spark that ran through him when he first touched her hand.

He turned to her again, unable to ignore the pang that hit him every time he saw her stopping herself from reaching for him. She may have been the one that organized their evening, giving him a chance to make things right between them, but it didn’t mean she was going to ignore what was obviously there.

She’d never make him talk if he wasn’t ready to do so. Their relationship was built on mutual respect. They recognized when the other needed to talk and when they needed some time to gather their thoughts. Through the time they’ve known each other, they learned to find those cues and signs.

That’s how Claire knew that Ethan wasn’t really ready to tell her what exactly happened, hence why she stuck to texts instead of calls or visits. His lack of any contact, however, hurt her – more so when his previous behaviors similar to this were taken into consideration.

In light of this, her hesitation to initiate any sort of contact between them made perfect sense. All he had to do was let her know that he was okay, however relative it was to say in his current situation, and none of this would be happening. All he had to do was let her in, even if only a little – she’s never asked for anything more. And yet, he couldn’t even give her that, not immediately at least.

It became clear to him that he needed to let her know how much he trusts her. When she said she knew him. When she said she understood him – better than anyone, he added with a grin. When she said she’s falling for him. He trusted all of those words, but his actions didn’t support it. He could see it in her eyes when their gazes crossed earlier that evening. She thought he still sheltered himself from her, and him disappearing, again, was the proof that spoke the loudest.

Slowly, he reached for her hand. A soft brush of his finger against hers, testing the waters to see if she would flinch, if she would push him away or avoid him. When she did none of those things, he carefully covered her hand with his, only to, after a moment, lace their fingers together. Ethan gave her a squeeze, unable to bring himself to look away from the way their hands fit together like two pieces of the same puzzle. She squeezed his hand lightly, still refusing to look him in the eye.

Music swelled around them, tugging on their emotions until it was difficult to breathe. He noticed how her face twisted gently, revealing more of her feelings to him than he’s seen the entire evening. The characters on the stage have separated, each singing their hearts out about the feeling of loss – Claire couldn’t have known that, but the pain in their voices was enough to bring her to the edge of tears by the time the break in the show began.

Before Ethan could say anything, she excused herself breathlessly and walked out of the booth, leaving him alone to his thoughts. And he’s been alone with them for quite some time now.

He began reflecting on the first time he took her to see an opera. The similarity of the situation was striking – he suddenly knew why she suggested this out of every place they could go to. Her thoughtfulness really shouldn’t surprise him, yet he was always amazed with how well she knew what needed to be done. Oftentimes, she neglected her own needs to accommodate others, which left not much space for her in it all. That’s what became one of Ethan’s priorities early on in their relationship – make sure she remembered about herself.

She was taking care of him too, sometimes even unknowingly. Making him take breaks in the middle of the day. Bringing him coffee when he was stuck in meetings and couldn’t walk out of the room for even a second – the whole Board by now knew about their relationship from their first-hand observations, sending him meaningful looks when she left the room.

One thing that spoke more of her feelings for him than anything else was how she persistently stayed by his side through it all. His world was quite literally falling apart, and she was the one holding it in place. She told him that she knew how it felt to risk losing something you’ve worked for, how it felt to come so close to having everything slip away and that she was going to help him in any way she could.

Claire told him all of that when he broke the protocol – yet here they were again. If there was one person between the two of them that had a pattern of behavior, it was him – running away when things got too complicated. Or, as it stood right now, when he didn’t want her to get impacted by his problems. She’s told him that she wants to be impacted, that she wants to help him, because she cares about him. She’s by his side because she cares about him. And he told her he knew and understood her concern, but clearly, he didn’t register it enough, if he was in the exact same position right now. It’s as though he hasn’t learned a thing.

Perhaps she was getting tired of it. If he continued to act the way he’s been acting up until this point, she’d surely be pushed enough to leave him – and he couldn’t imagine a fate worse than that for himself.

It was the last time I let myself run, he thought to himself, cursing for even allowing it to get to this point. Where was his brain when he even considered it a viable option? In what universe would that behavior be okay? Her resolve and persistence became even more striking to him – he knew that he most likely didn’t deserve her.

She was still here, though, so he must have done something right. But one good deed wasn’t enough to make up for letting her down, time and time again. Ethan didn’t need her to tell him that what he was doing was unacceptable – he’s realized it on his own.

It’s never happening again.

Claire walked back into the booth, leaning against the wall to watch him. He was perfectly aware of what she could see in his posture. His nervousness in the way he played with the edge of his jacket. She’s been gone a moment too long and he was a second away from standing up from his seat to go after her.

Ethan turned around at the sound of her steps, refraining from saying anything until she was seated. His hand itched to reach for her, to feel her skin again. He got the permission to do just that, when their gazes finally crossed and she nodded gently. Letting out a shaky sigh of relief, he laced their fingers together, feeling the soft fabric of her dress under his skin.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered, raising their joined hands to kiss her wrist. Claire guided the movement, pressing her palm to his cheek. The gesture ensured their eyes didn’t stray from one another and allowed them a moment of clarity.

“Aren’t you tired of running?” her words were laced with emotions so much, it felt like a mental blow to both of them. It was a simple question that he already knew the answer to. Nothing was more obvious to him.

“I am.”

She held his gaze, silent for a moment, then placed her second hand on his shoulder. “Don’t do it again.” she whispered, a hint of a tear shining in her eyes. “We’ve talked about it before, Ethan. I’m tired of going in circles with you.”

“I know.” He brushed the tear away, bringing her closer to rest his forehead against hers. “You don’t deserve this.”

“No, I don’t.” Claire agreed, nodding her head. She leaned away, lowering their hands and resting them in her lap. “You can tell me anything, in your own time. I’m the last person to judge, because I know that some things need that time. But I would never cut you out the way you just did, especially if I knew that you were worried.”

Ethan lowered his head in shame, finding no words to defend his dense behavior. He knew she was right – his behavior left a lot to be desired. Claire continued.

“It tells me that you don’t view me as your equal. You don’t trust me enough to confide in me. Every time something happens, it’s always the same story.” She sighed, falling deeper into her seat. Her hand was still in his, allowing him that form of contact. “I need transparency here, Ethan. We have rules, that you came up with, that you break every time things get tough.”

He winced at the vulnerable edge in her voice. More than ever before, he felt as though the ground was about to be pulled from beneath him.

“You can’t be in a relationship only a little. Or only on weekends. You’re either in it for good, and you take everything that comes with it, the easy and the difficult, or there’s nothing left to say.”

And there it was.

Ethan’s eyes widened. A hand wrapped around his heart and squeezed, making him feel lightheaded. If he ever had gotten a wake-up call before, this one was the loudest one. And the most devastating.

“Claire, wait.” He said, his voice strained when she tried to pull her hand out of his hold. She glanced at their hands, then up at him, her eyes glassy. Ethan breathed out heavily, pleading with his whole being for her to stay where she was. “You’re right. I haven’t been fair towards you.”

“That’s saying it mildly.”

“I know I don’t say it enough, but you’re my person. I trust you more than anyone else, even if I’m utterly useless at expressing it.” He gave her fingers a tender squeeze, his eyes finding hers urgently. “I’m an asshole for making you worry, and an even bigger one for keeping you in the dark. You deserve better, and lately, I’ve been messing up.”

“Can’t say I disagree.” She mused, tilting her head slightly. “Is there a reason for that?”

“I don’t know.” Ethan’s thumb traced her ring finger “It’s as though there is this outside force that’s making me do all those idiotic things, and before I realize what’s going on, everything’s already going to hell.”

“Sounds like you need to work on your impulse control.” Claire said, a tiny grin appearing on her face.

“You’re my impulse control.”

He cupped her cheek with his free hand, stroking the line of her cheekbone softly. She leaned in, just a fraction of a centimeter. Her gaze was a mix of feelings Ethan couldn’t describe – it made him feel a bit more at ease and at the edge of his seat, all at the same time.

“I’m sorry, Claire.” He muttered, voice low and thick, overcame with emotions. Claire nodded her head, a sigh filling the space between them. Her eyes, even though they were growing softer just a moment ago, were now hardened and serious.

“Don’t ever do that to me, ever again.”

“Of course. I know.”

“No, I don’t think you do.” She cleared her throat, straightening her posture. “If you don’t start treating me like your equal here, I will leave you. There’s only so much I can take, Ethan, and I draw the line at this.” Ethan’s entire body froze at a very real perspective of her walking away. The feeling of ground disappearing from beneath him came back, twice as strong. He shook his head, words rushing through his head. “And that would suck, because I don’t want to leave you.”

“I can’t lose you, Claire.”

“Then don’t lose me. Don’t push me away.” She breathed out, at last, squeezing his hand tightly. The atmosphere between them was heavy and it became difficult to breathe. Ethan knew they were not out of the woods, but he felt a bit less nervous when she cracked a smile. “Do I need to tie you down so you’d stop running?”

“You already did.” he mused, waiting for her permission, then leaning in to kissing her cheek softly.

They missed the second part of the show. He leaned close to rest his chin on her shoulder, his arm wrapped around her waist to keep her by his side – she wrapped her hand around his forearm in return. Voice low and quiet, he finally began telling her everything, sparing nothing. Once the show ends, he’ll follow her lead – after all, he’s never gotten lost with her by his side.

Notes

Am I above dissing PB in a fic, of all places? Hell no, I’m not.

Opera because C is clever like that - and we love throwbacks to better times.

PB is making Ethan act like an angsty teen. And don’t get me started on the ‘prying’ bit. Ma’am, it’s not prying, it’s called caring about your husband boyfriend because something is clearly going on and it seems as though he’s covering someone else’s ass and taking a fall for it. It’s called *concern*.

Thank you for reading! <3

Tagging separately

#ethan ramsey #open heart #playchoices #ethan x mc

101 notes · View notes

phykios · 3 years

Text

honesty and promise me, co-written with @darkmagyk [read on ao3]

Update: Annabeth has not done what needs to be done.

August moves over into September, hot and sweltering days giving way to the first few hints of the coming autumn chill. One unseasonably cold night, Annabeth had gone to bed wrapped in one of Percy’s old Paris Opera sweaters, waking up with it and wearing it home to ward off the chill of the morning drizzle, like some a normal girlfriend would.

It’s a problem, she knows, but she just cannot quit this man.

And boy did she try, about a hundred different times.

One time, she spent an entire Tuesday before seeing him googling around until she found a picture. It was three years old, and it showed Mittie--oh, sorry, Her Royal Highness Margherita--at a soccer game in Moscow. Next to her is the handsomest man in the world. Percy’s hair is shorter, and something about his windbreaker reminds her of some of the crew boys she knew at Harvard. They aren’t touching, but they are both smiling. This is the kind of girl Percy deserves. This is the kind of girl he should want. His type. She reminds herself of it for hours before meeting him at a show. But the smile he gives her is nothing like the one in the pictures with the princess. And when he whispers what he wants to do to her that evening, she just can’t do it.

She even took him to his favorite pizza place once to soften the blow. But then she thought about how her dumping him would forever taint the magic of Antonio’s for the both of them, and she just couldn’t abide that.

So she kept putting it off. And putting it off. And putting it off.

And then he asked her to dinner with his parents again, on his one night off in three weeks.

“You’re sure you don’t want me to bring you something?” he asks for the fourth time, concern making his connection thin and tinny.

“It’s just a little stomach thing,” she lies, shaking out a ramen flavor packet. “I’ll be fine. You go have fun with your mom.”

“Okay. I’ll call later to check up on you.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m just going to be asleep.”

“Talk to you later.”

“Yeah.”

He clicks off. Her apartment is very quiet. For lack of anything else to do, she decides to check her mail.

Who even mails anything anymore, she thinks.

Rifling through the pile of wasted paper, she sighs at the banality of it all. Junk, junk, junk, NYCB brochure she needs to cancel, junk… Harvard?

She peers at it.

The red seal is unmistakable, as is her name, printed in neat, black ink. “Ms. Annabeth Chase.” Why are they contacting her? And more importantly, who the fuck gave them her address?

Hands shaking, she unfolds it. “Dear Ms. Chase,” it reads, “Thank you for your generous contribution to the Harvard Graduate School of Design. As one of our most promising graduates, we are so pleased and thrilled to receive your encouragement. With your gift, we were able to reach our fundraising goal of $2.5million, which will go to support the various operations of the school, so that we can continue to provide a top-notch education for your fellow students. You do make a difference for us, and we are immensely thankful for you!” And then it goes on. “As a thank you for your generous gift of $15,000, we would like to invite you to the Alistair Moore dinner for distinguished graduates and faculty. We would be delighted to receive you at...”

She can’t finish, dyslexia scrambling the words in front of her. Or maybe that’s just her, trembling so hard she has to sit down. Fifteen thousand. The Alistair Moore dinner. She knows it well, yet another fancy networking event, like the Eta Industries party. Bile rises in her throat. Who would…

The answer hits her like a freight train. Only one person would be so bold.

Crumpling the letter in her fist, she pulls out her phone, dialing the number she still stubbornly has memorized, despite deleting it off her contacts list.

She isn’t sure if she’s upset that she gets his voicemail, or relieved. “Hey, dad. It’s me,” she says, grimacing as she starts off like he wouldn’t recognize her voice. Like it’s any other phone call. “I got your message. The Alistair Moore dinner? I’m not going. I told you, I don’t want your help. I don’t need your help. What I need,” she sneers, “is for you to butt out and leave me the hell alone.”

Then she hangs up, before she can chicken out and delete it.

She shoves the letter into her recycling bin, down to the very bottom. Out of sight and out of mind.

Well, her night is pretty much ruined.

Ramen growing colder, she lies on her couch, her head hanging over the edge, studiously not looking at her phone. She shouldn’t have left that message. She shouldn’t have opened that letter. She shouldn’t have rebuffed Percy’s invitation. Or maybe she was right, in all those situations. Who the fuck knows. Who the fuck cares. Her leg bounces, frantic, stomach roiling.

Like a gunshot, her phone vibrates on her coffee table. Annabeth catapults herself up, reaching for it, nearly dropping it, even as her eyes begin to blur. Please let it be her dad. Please let it be anyone else but her dad. Please. Please. Please.

checking in, writes Percy. feeling any better?

With a sob, she hits call. He picks up after the second ring.

“Hey,” he says, softly. “Everything okay?”

“Can,” she hiccups. God damn it. God damn her. “Can you please come over?”

She can feel his demeanor change over the phone. “I’ll be right there,” he says, calm and collected. “What’s your address?”

Her address is supposed to be a secret. No one is supposed to know where she lives. She doesn’t even like Luke knowing where she lives, and he might be the closest thing she has to family right now. But she tells Percy, and he promises to be there within thirty minutes. Throwing her arms over her face, she lies back down, breathing through her nose so she doesn’t vomit.

He makes it in twenty. here is the simple text, devoid of any hearts or emojis, and she buzzes him up. Less than a minute later, he knocks on her door. “It’s open,” she calls, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes.

Softly, the door clicks open, someone smoothly and quietly stepping inside. “Annabeth?”

“Here,” she moans. She should get up to greet him. She can’t feel her legs. She can’t feel anything at all.

The couch dips as someone sits next to her, a warm, large hand on her shoulder, and she can’t help but open her eyes. Percy is there in his blue sweater that she returned the last time she had slept over at Nico’s apartment, his brow furrowed in worry, but he’s smiling a little, too, just happy to see her, to see that she’s safe. In his other hand, he holds up a plastic bag. “I brought you a cookie,” he says, gently. “Chocolate chip.”

Annabeth blinks. “It’s… blue.”

He nods. “It is.”

Blue cookies. His mom’s special recipe, he had told her, for bad days of aching feet, harsh dance instructors, and school bullies.

The dam breaks.

She launches herself into Percy’s embrace, sobbing. He tucks her head into his neck, his arms coming up around her. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “It’s okay.”

“I’m--I’m so sorry,” she gets out, in between heaving breaths. “I just--I didn’t want to be alone and--”

He shakes his head against hers, his nose in her hair. “I’m here. It’s okay.”

They sit there for a long, long time, him holding her as she cries, pathetic. She can only imagine what it must be like from Percy’s end: here he was, having a lovely dinner with his mother uptown on his night off, only to get a frantic call from his hookup, demanding that he drop everything and rush to her side. And he did. He even fucking brought her one of his mom’s special cookies.

She does not deserve this perfect, amazing man.

It’s that thought more than anything else that pulls her out of her spiral, her sobs abating somewhat. “There we go,” he says, sweetly. “I’m going to get you some water, okay? Be right back.”

Resisting the urge to hold onto his sleeve like some kind of child, she lets him pull away, stepping into her kitchen. Head aching and eyes puffy, she can’t even really register the fact that he is in her apartment right now. Her secret hideaway. Her sanctum sanctorum. He can see her tasteful couches and her expensive coffee maker and her giant TV screen.

But honestly? She doesn’t care about any of that right now. All she cares about is the long, solid line of Percy’s body next to hers as he sits back down next to her, handing her a glass of water. She drinks it down, greedily, falling back against him, his hand automatically coming up to her shoulder, and she turns into his side, drinking him in, just as desperate.

They don’t speak, just holding onto each other.

As she drifts off, there on her couch, her arm around Percy’s midsection, she only has one real thought in her head.

Forget the apartment--this is her sanctum sanctorum. This is her safe space.

***

Annabeth wakes up in a bed that isn’t her own, in an apartment that isn’t her own.

It reminds her, weirdly enough of her mom’s apartment, she thinks as she sits up in the soft, cream sheets, here in New York. She had only ever been a handful of times, whenever her mother deigned to claim her for their allotted family time. She doesn’t remember much about that place--mostly the skyline through the window, the low, uncomfortable furniture, the spotless, empty kitchen.

Across from the bed is a mirror, squat and wide. Annabeth has her hair back, her face devoid of metal. She looks tired, she thinks, and maybe a little older, dark, heavy bags beneath her eyes. She’s wearing a real, actual set of pajamas, rather than a sweater or an oversized shirt, pale pink silk tight around her body.

Shaking her head, she looks down, and spies a thin band of gold on her left hand, which rests on her stomach, sporting a slight, but noticeable curve.

Only then does she realize it’s a dream. She lets out a grateful sigh. Just a dream.

It seems like a pretty boring one, too. She’s older, a little fatter, and has a nicer apartment. Somewhere in the distance is the indistinct sound of a person singing. And beyond that the even more indistinct sound of the city.

Stumbling out of bed, her feet falling into a pair of soft, pink slippers, perfectly positioned next to her bed, she makes her way out into the apartment. The walls are cream, decorated with generic seaside landscapes, a nondescript sailboat in the background against an unchanging, cornflower blue sky.

The kitchen is empty. Breakfast is cooked, laid out on a placemat at the kitchen island, but no one is there eating it. No one is there cleaning up, or making coffee. The food looks delicious, like a magazine spread: a perfectly made bowl of granola and yogurt, a lemon poppyseed muffin, a glass of orange juice on the side. Nutritious. Small.

It’s weird. It’s really weird.

Moving on, she enters the living room. There’s a little girl on her knees, maybe three or four, she’s wearing a red pinafore over a white polo shirt and Mary Janes shined like the top of the Chrysler building. The preschool version of a prep-school uniform. She’s hunched over the glass coffee table, frizzy blonde curls bouncing as she moves her hand back and forth, scribbling with a colored pencil on a piece of paper.

All of a sudden, she notices Annabeth standing there.

“Mommy!” She jumps up, holding the pencil behind her back, her green eyes wide with apprehension. “I--I was--”

She hears whistling, and turns to see… well, it's Percy, but he looks nothing like her Percy. His hair is cropped shorter, parted and moussed perfectly flat. He’s in a three piece suit. He’s in trousers. Not a pair of sweatpants or a muscle tee in sight.

He stops when he sees her. “Sorry, didn’t know you were awake, wouldn’t have been singing.” Which makes no sense, Because Annabeth loves Percy’s ambient music. He looks around her, speaking to his--to the girl, “I told you you’d have to stop when mommy got up.”

Annabeth glances at the little girl, who nods too solemnly.

“Don’t worry,” this stranger wearing Percy’s face says, “She’s ready for school. She is ready for her Math qualification. I only said she could draw for a little, to calm herself down.” He glances at the girl again. “Put your things back in the art box, and we’ll go to school. I have an 8:30 meeting with the board.”

The little girl runs off. Holding her paper and her pencils close to her chest, like she’s afraid someone is going to take them away from her. Maybe someone is.

Percy turns to her. “I confirmed our reservations at 7 tonight at Sarabeth’s with your mother’s assistant this morning. And the nanny is going to stay late, so we don’t have to bring her.”

The her in question reappears just then. She’s so small. And she’s carrying a backpack. She looks like that breakfast, out of a magazine. But normally kids in magazines smile.

“Are you ready?” Annabeth’s voice finally says.

A beat, then she nods again. “Yes, mommy.”

“Good,” she says. Outside, the sunlight through the windows isn’t so bright anymore, but dark and cold, like a solar eclipse. “Make me proud.”

And she turns to go back to bed, but the floor has disappeared, and she steps on nothing, tumbling down into the void.

With a start, she wakes up again in her bed, to the smell of breakfast in the air. Which is confusing, because she’s pretty sure she fell asleep on the couch, and she usually doesn’t wake up in time for breakfast, let alone actually make it herself: she has Percy for that, now.

Right. Percy.

It comes back to her in flashes: the donation, the voicemail, calling Percy out of desperation. Inviting him into her room, her bed. Falling asleep in his arms.

She physically shakes her head, roughly scrubbing her face, forcing herself further into consciousness. The light coming through her window is grey and weak, doing absolutely nothing to help her out. The morning feels muted, for some reason, like it’s very far away. Maybe it was her nightmare.

She can’t hear Percy, Annabeth realizes. That’s what’s wrong. She can smell breakfast, but she can’t hear him puttering away. She doesn’t hear the clanking of pans as he tries to be quiet, or his off-key humming, or the dull thump of footfalls on her floor as he practices his steps.

God, how late did she sleep? If he has to leave for a morning class he usually makes sure to wake her up, first. For a kiss if nothing else.

But when she pads out to her kitchen, she’s stunned to find Percy still there, sitting at her warped kitchen table. There are two plates in front of him, eggs and bacon untouched and cooling. He’s fully dressed, too, in his dark jeans and stupid dance pun t-shirt: “Girls Just Wanna Have Buns,” his sweater on the empty chair. Annabeth had been weirdly looking forward to wearing that this morning; he likes seeing her in his clothes, and she likes seeing him without them. It’s a system that works for them, typically leading to a lot of smiles, a couple giggles, and maybe another round or two before he has to leave.

He’s not smiling now. His gaze is fixed on his plate, hands in his lap. “Morning,” she croaks, softly.

Percy lifts his eyes to her, unfathomable like the sea. “Morning.”

Something in her stops her from sliding into the seat across from him. Standing gives her strength, gives her power that she doesn’t want to give up. She may not be able to tell what Percy is thinking right now, but she knows when someone is gearing up for a fight. “What is it?”

“What is what?”

“What’s the matter?”

He is uncharacteristically still. Annabeth has gotten so used to him expressing himself via his body, the stillness is unsettling. Percy holds her gaze for a moment, then sucks in a breath, sitting up a little bit straighter. “I kicked over your recycling by mistake, and when I was cleaning up, I…” He bites his lip, a little ashamed. “I accidentally read some of your mail.”

“Okay.” He can’t be that broken up about her junk mail, can he?

It’s only then that she sees it, laid out neatly next to the breakfast plate. The letter has been carefully uncrumpled, but the red Harvard seal is as obnoxiously bright as ever. “I don’t mean to pry, but…” Percy licks his lips, gathering his words together. “I thought you didn’t get into Harvard?”

She doesn’t say anything.

“It’s just--this is from the Graduate School of Design,” he continues, looking at the page as if to confirm it. “And the dean says you were one of their ‘most promising graduates,’ here, so. That means you have, what, a master’s degree? Right?”

Still, she doesn’t say anything.

Percy rubs a hand over his mouth, square jaw squaring further. “I guess I just don’t understand why you lied to me.”

“I never--” she blurts.

“I mean, were you trying to spare my New Yorker sensibilities by telling me you didn’t get in? Did you think I would actually care?”

There’s nothing she can say in response. So she doesn’t.

After a moment, he blows out a sharp breath. “So. Fifteen thousand dollars, huh.”

She sighs, looking away. It’s not like Annabeth doesn’t hate it, too. “I didn’t do that,” she says, crossing her arms. “My dad did it, he just put it under my name.”

“And, he did that… why? I mean,” he tilts his head, a little bewildered. “I thought you guys weren’t on speaking terms.”

“To try and get me to network again, probably.” She shrugs. “And I’m not on speaking terms with him. He just hasn’t gotten the memo yet.”

He hasn’t raised his voice at all. He hasn’t moved from his seat, or made any kind of threatening gesture, but like an approaching storm cloud, she can feel the anger rolling in, dense and crackling. “Does he do this a lot, your dad? Throw his money around for you?”

“It’s not like I asked him to.”

But he’s shaking his head, rueful. “I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. You know, I thought it was weird that you could afford an apartment in the East Village with a bedroom on periodic architecture contracts, but I’m guessing he pays for that, too?”

He’s right, of course, but that doesn’t stop her from bristling. “It’s a trust fund,” she snaps. “It’s still my money.”

“A trust fund,” he says, softly. “Right.”

Anger lances through her, cold and burning. Just because her dad had set it up for her didn’t mean that she wouldn’t use it. “Yeah, a trust fund. Is that a crime, now?”

He opens his mouth as if to say something, then snaps it shut with an audible click. Pushing his chair out, he stands up, hands flat on the table. “I should go and get ready for my class. I’ll… I’ll text you later, okay?” Percy takes a step towards her, hands reaching for her on instinct, then pauses. “See you around.”

Percy leaves without so much as a look back, closing the door so quietly she can barely hear it over the roar of blood in her ears.

#my fic #percabeth #the rivalry ends here #ballet au #😈😈😈#darkmagyk #happy endings onlyyyyyyyy #percabeth fic #PJO

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thedevillionaire · 3 years

Text

Four Days, Mostly

A supernatural soap opera instalment. Cerberus and Kia, one of those domestic-couple moments kind of thing. Any questions, as always, please do ask me to explain myself! Thanks for spending some time in my ridiculous world. I heart you.

---

Kia feels like she’s practically been living in the Vampirism archives, when she hasn’t been on the mortal plane, that is. She’s sure the last four days have actually taken a week, such was the amount of things to do that had somehow been crammed into them, and she sighs quietly.

And she’s hardly seen her beloved for more than five minutes over those days; she’s not been the only one with scarcely a moment to take for herself. What with the disastrous destruction of the Lightning chambers and the resultant seemingly endless fallout from that pouring demand upon demand on Cerberus, they’ve barely crossed paths, let alone managed any quality time together. Any time at all, come to that.

But she’s been assured he’ll be home tonight, and a small smile crosses her face as she reaches the front door at last. She’ll be glad to get into the guaranteed warmth of the manor too – the windwhipped, winterchilled walk home has been…brisk, to say the least.

Whoa.

Warmth is one thing, inferno another. An intense, practically visible heatwave encompasses her the moment she crosses the threshold, and she closes the door behind her, removing her coat posthaste.

Well, he’s definitely home. She shakes her head, a faint smile on her face as she unlaces and removes her blouse and bodice also, untucking her chemise for good measure. Damn, it was hot. “Hon, think you could dial it back a bit to, I don’t know, something maybe a bit less…I don’t know, diabolic?” she calls out as she walks through the foyer into the loungeroom, where she expects to find him, but…apparently not. Hm, okay. She pulls her hair into a makeshift ponytail, twists it upon itself to hold it in place, wonders whether she should Mindsend him a greeting or just wander about the house until she finds him, when her attention is dramatically redirected by a sudden, powerful sneeze.

Ah. She smiles a little self-indulgently, turns. Answers that question.

With a Mindsent blessing, she continues down the hallway, making her way over to where Cerberus sits at the library desk, his face buried in a tissue…which, as she gets closer, she recognises as being far from the first time he’s done this today. “Oh, honey, you’re not well?”

More of an observation than a question – the tiredness apparent in her nonetheless stunning bonded’s eyes as he smiles at her somewhat wanly despite his clear pleasure at her return, not to mention the telltale hint of red to his nose, providing more than enough of an answer. He neither confirms nor denies it – not verbally, at any rate – and for now she chooses not to press.

Explains the extra heat, too.

With a soft sound of sympathy, Kia moves to stand behind him, placing a tender kiss on the top of his head and gently massaging his shoulders. “Hey there, you. How long’s it been since you took a break?”

Cerberus murmurs a quiet hum of pleasure, closing his eyes briefly and leaning back into her touch as Kia drapes her arms around him. “Gods, I’ve missed you, love.” He sniffles again, takes another tissue, wipes his nose, and looks up at her apologetically. “Sorry about all the damn sniffling. The week’s catching up to me a bit, I think.”

“Aw, sweetheart.” Kia says, adding a Mindsent :Stop avoiding the question: with a quiet, slightly dark laugh. She moves to push some papers aside and sit on the desk, facing him, and leans forward to kiss him, softsensual, lingering. :I’ve missed you too.: She leans back again, looks at him in gently insistent challenge. “Your last break was…?”

“Nowhere near as beautiful as this one, I’m sure.” Another determined sniffle, and Cerberus presses the tissue underneath his nose as he regards Kia’s state of dishevelled semi-undress, a playful approval evident as he does so, and raises an eyebrow. “If you want to convince me to lower the temperature, darkling, I’m not sure *snf!* that this is the best way to go about it.”

“Okay, I know these four days have felt like forever but you do remember I’m happy to strip for you without being practically on fire, right?” Kia laughs. “Babe, it’s a sauna in here!” With a look of good-natured admonishment, she holds his gaze and smoothly slips out of her skirt, lets it fall to the floor, runs a tapered fingernail along the angular contours of his jawline, and purrs, almost a whisper, deliberately teasing, “What if I didn’t let you touch, though? Because, I mean…I’m just too…hot.”

Cerberus chuckles quietly, sardonically. “Harsh terms, love.” He accedes with a wave of his hand, the atmosphere settles to a more generally comfortable ambient heat, and he gives his nose another firm wipe before vaporising the tissue, making a small but unmissable sound of irritation as he does so.

“And how long has this been going on for?” Kia lightly traces a finger down the length of her bonded’s nose, gives him a brief yet knowing look as he takes a sharp breath in response, his expression crumbling to a mixture of mildly panicked betrayal and helplessness.

Cerberus turns from her rapidly, not enough time to claim a new tissue, and brings his elbow to his face in surrender. “Huh-AHSSCHuu! *SNF!*” Crushing a firm hand against his nose, he frowns at Kia in gentle reprimand, and shakes his head wryly. “Gods, love.” He sniffles again, wetly and repeatedly. “Pardon me.”

“Aw, sorry, sweetheart,” Kia, not particularly sorry at all, confirms a suspected sensitivity notably greater than usual and offers him a softsmiled semblance of penitence regardless. “Bless you.” She passes him a tissue, pauses a moment as he blows his nose, touches a hand to his forearm. “Seriously, though, hon – how are you doing?”

He sighs. “Ah, darkling, I’m alright.” Well aware she was unlikely to accept that, he continues without leaving her enough time to interject. “Mostly. It’s just that it’s all been…rather nonstop of late.” He sniffles strongly and wipes his nose again, which seems increasingly determined to not give him a moment’s peace. “Gods. Excuse me.” Clearing his throat, he refocuses. “This ridiculous weather we’ve been having doesn’t agree with me terribly well.” Another sniffle brings timely emphasis to his words, and he notes the dubious look in Kia’s eyes. “It’s just a slight chill, love. It’ll pass soon enough. And anyway—” He pushes the chair back from the desk, stands, curls a strong arm around Kia’s waist, toys with the strap of her chemise, his voice deep velvet and desire. "—my irresistible supervisor seems to believe I ought to take a break…and that is not a directive I can refuse.”

He tilts her head towards him, pulls her close, kisses her with an urgency his beloved cannot miss, an urgency she fully reciprocates. They’ve not been apart for this long since they first became a couple, almost three years ago now, and it feels like an aeon, it feels volcanic.

“Mmm…” Kia, still seated on the desk, wraps her legs around him and returns his kiss with rich promise, weaving a hand through his hair. :Babe, want to move this to th…:

Cerberus completes the teleport to the bedroom before Kia completes her Mindsend, and she laughs upon their arrival. “I’ll take that as a…” she begins but she’s interrupted again, Cerberus raising a finger and managing a hurried, breathless “Sorry, love, I’m g…” and turns from her mere seconds before he’s possessed by unstoppable need.

“Huh-HH… Huh-hhAHTSSCHhuu!”

Heavy, absolute, and not enough; he gives a brief shake of his head, blinks rapidly, moves to claim several tissues from the box on the bedside table in expectant preparation, inhaling deeply, entirely surrendered, and after a tremulous pause, on the edge, he gives over and sneezes again, powerful, ferocious.

“AAHHTSSCHHUU!” He sniffles fiercely and rubs his nose with determination, repeatedly, in an all-too-brief recovery he already knows is only temporary, his breath still catching and brow creased, and takes another series of tissues, his eyes watering. “Hhh… hh-TSSCHH-uu!”

Kia’s breath catches also, though differently. “Oh, bless y…”

“HAHH-TSSCHUU! Uhh…” The demanding strength behind the sneezes taking a level of energy he really doesn’t have, a soft groan escapes him as he pushes newly disordered ebony chaos from his eyes and glances upwards in silent entreaty but no respite is granted; he inhales in fragmented and escalating anticipatory need for release; desperate, encouraging. “Hh… h-hh… Hh-HH!” He buries his face in the tissues once more. “Huh-AAHTSSCHHuu!! Ah, gods.”

The last sneeze comes followed by an unexpected, searing sharp sting in the back of his throat and a wave of foggy disorientation, and his gaze snaps across to Kia in alarm, his previous belief that this was just a passing overreaction to exposure and stress categorically destroyed in one stark moment of recognition. “Fuck,” he mutters, scrubbing first the tissues then a rough hand under his nose. He touches a hand to his throat and swallows with difficulty. Fuck. “Pardon me. *SNFF!*”

She remembers to exhale. “Bless you, honey.”

Cerberus sighs heavily, murmurs, “Thanks, love,” and presses his index finger under his nose in a willfully firm refutation of any more of this nonsense, though he isn’t exactly full of confidence in that regard, and sniffles again. “Excuse me.” He blows his nose, another series of sniffles ensuing in short order, and takes a further few moments to gather himself before eventually looking over to his bonded, somewhat chagrined. He clears his throat. “I, um…think there’s a chance I may have lied to you about being alright.” The congestion now dulling his consonants tells a similar tale.

“Mostly alright.” Kia gives Cerberus a gentle smile. “Thought you might have.” She arranges herself amongst the bedsheets and lightly pats the space beside her in invitation. “Aw, sweetheart,” she says, noting his expression of faint confusion that she’d have had reason to doubt him, “I know you didn’t deliberately lie to me. It’s not your fault you’re a hopeless optimist.”

She laughs softly as faint confusion now combines with a flash of indignance. “How am I…” he begins, and this time it’s Kia’s turn to interrupt.

“It’s alright, babe, I actually love that in you. You just never think you might, you know, fail.” Blowing him a kiss, she adds a Mindsent :Not that this needs to count as a fail:, beckoning him to her with crooked finger. “Come here,” she insists in a satin whisper, fluidly removing her chemise as she does so.

Cerberus, suddenly and thoroughly spectacularly reminded of just how long four days can feel, takes up Kia’s invitation to join her on the bed, though with a measure of forced reluctance that he thinks perhaps, in good conscience, he should…probably have. His will to obey that conscience, however, is far from assured, despite the returning itch that he can do even less about, and he turns quickly to stifle another sneeze against his forearm. “HXTchu! Uhh…” It’s not enough and he hurries another apology, internally curses the manifestly ridiculous timing of it all, inhales deeply and sneezes again.

“hh-AHH… Ah-TSSCHHhuu! Ah, gods, sorry. *SNFF!*”

“Bless you,” Kia murmurs, surface nonchalant, heartbeat wild, and moves to unbutton his shirt.

His resolve already verging on the nonexistent, Cerberus tries not to think about how very much he’s missed his beautiful bonded, how very much he just wants to immerse in her company right now, and makes what he knows is likely a last-ditch effort. “I don’t want to get you sick, love. I’m not sure if I can…”

“You certainly feel like you can.” Kia gives him a sultry, wicked grin.

Cerberus chuckles quietly, curls his fingers through her hair, sniffles lightly. “Alright, well, I’m not sure that I should.”

“Oh…no, I think you’re pretty sure.” Kia presses herself against him, kissing him with exquisite, slow intimacy, removing his belt with deft touch as she does so, and Cerberus gives up his last tenuous hold on resistance, returning her kiss with incendiary passion, undeniable need.

Kia hums a languid sound of delectation. :That’s more like it.: With a soft, indulgent purr, she moves astride him and wraps her arms around his neck, murmuring in a gently teasing undertone, “And I thought for a second there you were actually going to deny me.”

Cerberus pulls her closer again in strong, warm embrace, desire for her eclipsing all else, and claims her mouth with his own as he takes her smoothly, deeply, deliciously, Mindsending with a rising heat suffusing every word, :What kind of self-control do you think I have?:

---

#supernatural soap opera #cerberus #cerbia #my ocs #my writing #snzfic #cerberus and kia #sneeze fic #snz fic #just a bunch of stuff that happened #and as is often the case that stuff involved my hottest character sneezing #i am a simple creature #sorry not sorry

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mirkwoodshewolf · 3 years

Text

On set visits; Queen x reader x Borhap boys pt. 2

*Author's note*

And here is part 2. And that's all I've got of the Rock Angel for now. Hope you all enjoy this special binge read of the series. Soon enough the story will come to an end after a few more chapters (I've had the last chapter written for like 2 years now) but I hope you all enjoy this chapter as well as the binge reading I have provided for you all. Until next time, stay healthy, stay safe, and anyone getting their vaccines GOOD LUCK!

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@simonedk

@waddles03

@ixchel-9275

@psychosupernatural

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queensdivas

@bohemiansweede

@queendeakyy

@queen-paladin

@geek-and-proud

@isabella-bby

@labessieisallama

@5sos-wdw

@onebigfangirlworld

@wormzteef

@ssa-sadboi

@naturalswifty89

@starswin

___________________________________________________________

*Meeting the new Rock Angel. Filming continues*

A few days later after bonding with the actors playing my boys, I came to any day of filming I could (outside of my album recording and touring with Queen and Adam). Now the boys promised me and I knew they would follow up with it, the young actress they got to play me in as a cameo for the Live Aid sequence.

I was talking with Miami when we both heard a knock and that's when Graham King came in.

"I've got her."

"Bring her in." I said. He opened the door wider and soon came in the young woman came in.

"You wanted to see me Mrs. Kline?"

"Yes my dear come in." I said. She came in and took a seat on one of the producer's chair. "I wanted to speak to you guys privately about some things that have come up. But first I would like to know your name my dear girl."

"Ashley. My name's Ashley Johansson. But my friends call me Ash."

"Lovely to meet you Ash, from what I saw up there you—you blew me away."

"Uhh thank you. And can I just say I've been such a big fan of yours. My mum always played your first album on repeat every day when she'd take me to school. But I thank her for that cause your story has just been such an inspiration to not only me but her as well."

"I'm flattered Ash. I'm always happy to hear that I inspire people, even when I feel like I'm not really doing anything. All I do is just bring my music out into the world and try to give voice to things that other's don't deem important."

"That makes you an inspiration Mrs. Kline." She said.

"Oh please Ash darling, call me (y/n)."

"Okay....(y/n)."

"Now then straight to business. As you know Hollywood's always wanting to create biopics of anything and everything. And while I've been aware of both Queen's story as well as Elton's life being made into films. I've always been reluctant in getting my story out, but from what I saw a few days ago I feel like I might've found the right team to do just that. So my dear Ash, tell me this; who do you trust the most in Queen?" she looked at me confused but she soon realized just what I was doing.

"Brian was asking me tons of questions but that was the only question Roger ever asked me."

"And what did you tell him?"

"I told him, that.....All the members of Queen are my family. But if I had to pick, Roger has always seen each side of me. Whether it was the happiest moment of my life, or the darkest day. He's seen my true colors that none of the other band members had seen." I smiled softly and said.

"What happened after you said that?"

"He—he might not have wanted anyone to know but—I could swear I saw him wipe a tear from his eye." I smiled and lowered my head.

"That's my papa lion alright." I muttered. I looked back up to Graham and Ashley and continued, "After seeing the hard work you all have put into Queen's story, I've come to the decision along with my manager and former boss Miami, that I'm willing to sign off the rights to the film to you Graham King. And I want you my dear Ash to play me." They both looked at me in surprise.

"You're—you're serious? You-you want me to play you?"

"I can think of no other person. My uncle and father figures chose well. They—after all knew me better than I knew myself." I heard Miami chuckle softly.

"Thank you (y/n)."

"But there are conditions that I seriously must emphasize on."

"Whatever you want."

"Okay first; I will be heavily involved with the project."

"Done." He said.

"Second, there are some events I will allowed to be shown. But I absolutely refuse to have the stalking episode I was forced to suffer with be heavily shown. It can be touched on but I want nothing else about it in the film. It was hell for my family and my children were scarred for almost ten years, especially my daughter."

"It was horrifying. In my Folklore and true crime class, someone actually did a story on him in the aspect of why celebrity stalking should've been taken more into consideration." Ash said. I closed my eyes heavily trying to compose myself when I felt a hand grasp mine.

"If anything more is spoken about in regards to my Angel's stalker, the project will immediately be terminated." Miami said. I turned to him and he looked at me and nodded firmly as he patted my hand comfortingly.

"The writer's will be informed on it immediately."

"And in regard to Queen's casting, make sure that those four young boys are involved with the project. I love all four of them, they are—everything I remember when I first worked with Queen."

"It shall be done. After this film wraps up and the premiere at Wembley Stadium, you and I can meet at Abbey Road to discuss further more on the project and all the rights that need to be signed." Graham told me.

"Graham King, you've got yourself a deal." We both shook on it. A pact forged that a movie about the Rock Angel would come to place.

Months passed and I was busy touring alongside Queen and Adam for a time, up until Brian decided to pop in on set for a surprise visit. He told me that the boys were now filming the Rockfield farm studio scenes. Now this was one filming session I definitely didn't want to miss.

Brian and I drove up to the location in Hertfordshire, a charming little place known as Stocker's farmhouse and cottage. Since the real Rockfield farm studios wasn't suitable for filming, and ridge farm closed down back in 2003, Stocker's was the only place left.

Coming up onto the filming location, I began to see it looking sorta similar to what Rockfield was when I had used it earlier in my career.

"The studio definitely chose the perfect setting I must say." I said to Brian who was driving.

"Indeed. When the lads and I first came to Rockfield farm we couldn't believe that that was what Fred had in mind."

"But the wide open spaces sure do provide little to no distraction. Guess that's what made a Night at the Opera so successful to you guys."

"You really think so?"

"I know that's how it was for my first album. Plus why do you think your 5th album is the most talked about in regard to your earlier works."

"Suppose you do have a point." He shrugged. After about ten minutes of driving through the country roads, we finally arrived at the farm and the barn house there made me think of the real Rockfield farm studios.

"Not quite the same but the atmosphere of it just brings back memories doesn't it?"

"It does indeed. Shall we go surprise them?"

"Yes, lets." He shut the car off and we both exited the car. We walked towards the barn house where the guys must already be filming right about now since there wasn't really anyone outside. Once we got up to the door, Brian slowly and quietly opened the door but gestured me to go in first.

"Oh lady's first." He said.

"Thank you." I walked inside and Bri followed behind me. Inside I saw some of the crew walking around setting some stuff up. All around it was like the actual recording studio Rockfield farm had. From all the pictures I remember seeing in either magazines or even Brian himself, it was like I was transported back in time to when Queen recorded "A Night at the Opera".

"You know some of those amps and even Roger's kit we used at the time are here."

"Really? So you and Rog donated some of the actual gear?"

"Yep. Since the fans will be nitpicky about certain aspects it's just a fun little way to give them a taste of some of the real equipment. Even Red's here."

"No way. No wonder why you've been using those Red special copies throughout the tour. But Bri are you sure it's okay? I mean I know how protective you are of Red."

"She's been in the best of care."

"Right, right with your mini-copy. I swear even out of the wig and the clothes I can still see you in Gwilym. Are you sure you didn't have another child with a different woman besides Chrissie?"

"I'm positive." He assured me.

"Oh and speak of the devil there's your clone now. Why don't you go say hi while I go find the rest of the little rascals." I patted his shoulder and walked off. As I walked along I saw a familiar figure wearing a long blonde hair sitting next to another young man wearing long auburn hair that went past his shoulder.

I shook my head and walked up to them saying.

"God I swear it's like I transported back in time to 1975." They looked up and proclaimed my name. I was soon tackled in a sandwiched by Joe Mazzello and Ben Hardy.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were touring?" asked Ben.

"I was. But Brian decided to do a little surprise visit so I figured since I missed seeing you four so much, I figured I'd tag along and see how it's coming along. So what all have you done since I was last here?"

"We did a scene in Miami's office to represent Queen getting back together before Live Aid, a concert at Madison Square Garden, and the recording studio scene with Mike Myers." Joe explained.

"Now for the next couple of weeks we'll be doing some of the Rockfield farm recordings as well as the Bohemian Rhapsody music video, when Freddie joins Smile, and the "I want to Break free music video." Ben finished.

"Oh now that last one I've got to see for myself." I said grinning ear to ear. "I'll bet you four are gonna rock the drag look just like my boys did. Especially you Ben." I teased as I gently pinched his cheek.

"Yeah Benjamin I can't wait to see you in that skirt." Joe teased as well pinching his other cheek.

"Alright, alright you two enough." He said brushing our hands away and trying to contain his blush. I giggled softly.

"When that day comes, do I got some stories to share with you all about that day."

"We look forward to hearing them." Said Joe.

"And I look forward to telling them. Just let me know if you boys ever get bored of an old woman ranting on about the past."

"Never (y/n). We could never be bored of you. We love having you here, you've given us a lot of support and advice for playing your coworkers and family members." Ben said as he leaned his head against my shoulder.

"Yeah. We could never get bored of you. The day we get bored of you is the day the four of us stop being Queen fanatics. And this movie only keeps increasing our fandom tenfold each and every day." Joe said as he leaned up against my other shoulder.

"Aww you boys are sweet." I kissed Ben's cheek first which made him blush and softly chuckle.

"You lucky dog! I wanna Rock Angel smooch!"

"Then pucker up Joey dear." He puckered up his lips and I leaned in but at the last second I kissed his cheek which made him pout like a child. I laughed and said. "Sorry my dear, but my lips are reserved for one man."

"Can't blame a guy for trying though right?" he asked hopefully.

"No. I guess not. Now Benjamin, if you'll come with me real quick I would like to spend a little one on one time with you." I wrapped an arm around him when Joe said.

"Better not seduce him away from me!"

"Please Joe dear like I'd ever steal a man from you!" I cried back at him. We walked outside and walked towards the cottage. "Ben I've been wanting to ask you something."

"What is it?"

"When we first met; I had mentioned that I was looking forward to seeing you play the drums, but I noticed that you seemed a bit—tense." He froze right there on the spot. I turned towards him and stood in front of him. "Benjamin. Is there something you'd like to share with the class?"

"Well I—uhh.....when I, when I went to auditioned I—might've said that I......knew how to play the drums. But I've....never drummed a day in my life."

"So you lied? You lied and ended up getting the part of playing my only father figure in the world?" I snapped.

"I'm sorry (y/n) I just really wanted the job. But I worked hard and trained over ten hours a day in the 8 weeks rehearsal time before we shot Live Aid. I just love Queen so much and I—"

"Ben." I pressed my finger to his lips. "Relax. I knew you lied the second day of filming. Roger told me."

"Did he mention the prank that Rami tried to pull on me?" I nodded as I hummed. "Damn rat."

"Oh trust me. When it comes to certain secrets, Roger cannot keep them forever. Especially when his lion cub gets involved in wanting to know." I removed my finger and cupped underneath his jawline. "But when I saw you perform the entire Live Aid sequence, it hardly seemed like you hadn't drummed a day in your life. While I don't condone for liars, I appreciate that you took the time to study just how exactly Roger drums."

"It wasn't easy. But he was supportive and he even gave me a mini drum lesson. Of course he had to step back and say 'alright. Show me what you got'."

"That's exactly like Roger. He always did the same to me whenever he gave me a drum lesson. I remember when he taught me how to play 'Don't stop me now' back when I was an intern and he told me to play it all the way through."

"Jesus that's rough."

"Depends on how you look it. Guess I got on the lighter end than you did cause he's always had a soft spot for me. But his heart's always in the right place when he mentors. Just ask his son Rufus. That boy takes everything after his father. Not just his looks but his talent too."

"Yeah. Roger has given me some good pointers on how to strike the cymbals on a certain song. Or how to properly spin the drumsticks."

"Knowing how to keep the heartbeat going. The drums are the center of the band. If one beat is off, the entire song can go to shit."

"That was always his number one rule to playing the drums. Drilled that into my head every time." I sighed reminiscing the old days of my tutorial sessions with my dad. "So he really was like your father?"

"Yeah. Out of all the members of Queen, Roger was the one I was drawn to the most. It also helped that he loved me just as much as I did him. Always there to comfort me at my lowest moments, but there to celebrate and keep me grounded when I was higher than a kite. Roger Taylor has and will always be my papa lion."

"That's so cute you guys called each other that. Anytime you came up in conversation, Roger always called you his lion cub."

"Either that or his lioness. Lioness is more for the moments when my true strength comes into play and I do something world changing. Lion cub is like a private thing between us. God I can't believe I confessed to him being a lion to me when I was drunk. But if I'm being honest, I don't regret it."

"I can see you don't, my little lion cub." I looked at him and he just gave me Roger's cheeky grin and that familiar twinkle in his eyes just made my heart flutter.

"Cheeky." I grinned. He smiled and shrugged playfully.

Yeah I know he may not look exactly like Roger when I met him but there are some mannerisms that Ben has that just made me think of my adoptive father.

We continued to walk into the cottage cause I wanted to see what they did to the inside of it. There I saw Rami sitting by the piano in the now wearing the long black hair that Fred had at the time. Jesus without the tache, he looked more like Freddie than I could ever imagine.

However that happiness soon turned to dread and absolute disgust as soon coming right beside Rami was a young man who looked like someone who I had loathed my entire life. The one man who made my life a living hell throughout my years with Queen, the poison who nearly destroyed Queen and exposed my secret to the boys.

It was Paul Prenter.

Rami and Paul were chatting away with each other and I felt sick to my stomach.

"(Y/n)? You okay?" Ben asked me.

"Excuse me." I muttered as I passed him. I trudged right over towards Rami and shielded him. "Stay. Away. From him you snake!"

"E-excuse me?" he asked confused. "I don't know what you're talking about." Typical Prenter.

"Don't play games with me Prenter! You might've fooled Freddie once but you will not do it again! I lost him because of you. You ruined his life! And I swear to you I will make you pay for it. I'm not that little girl anymore!"

"(Y/n)! (Y/n) calm down. He's not really Paul Prenter." Rami tried to reason with me.

"Freddie please I'm doing this to protect you!" I then gripped the collar of Paul's shirt and dragged him aside. "You lying son of a bitch! How dare you show yourself again!"

"Wait! Wait I'm not Paul Prenter!"

"STOP LYING TO ME!!!"

"(Y/N)! (Y/N) (M/N) KLINE LET. HIM GO!!" I turned to see Brian as well as Joe, Gwilym and Ben along with some of the crew staring at me. Brian stomped towards me and pulled me away from Paul and he said to me in a stern voice. "The real Paul Prenter is dead. He's been dead just as long as Freddie has. That's an actor playing him. Alan Leech."

My adrenaline came down and when I looked at 'Prenter' again to see that it wasn't the Paul Prenter I knew. For one thing this guy was much younger, the tache wasn't as thick as Paul's was, and his eyes weren't as cold as I remembered Prenter's, they shown with absolute fear.

Oh god.....what have I done? I collapsed to the ground trembling with regret as tears formed in my eyes. I buried my face into my arms as I softly wept. It was then I felt Brian's arms wrap around me, his head gently resting on top of mine as he rocked me slowly while I wept.

*3rd Person POV*

Rami, Joe, Gwilym and Ben looked at each other before turning towards Allen who spoke not a word but was just as worried as the four main ensemble cast was. Rami first tried to approach (y/n) but Brian looked up at him and put his hand up and shook his head.

After she went silent, Brian helped her stand up and he walked her over to the car. He allowed her to just sit there and have some time to herself. Once he shut the door, the young actors walked up to Brian and Joe asked.

"Is she gonna be okay?"

"With time. Allen I apologize ever so much but you can't blame (y/n). The real Paul Prenter he—put her through hell when she started off as an intern. One thing he did was extremely unforgivable that I don't see why we ever kept him around."

"Brian, she uhh—I know I shouldn't say this but when she was trying to defend me from Paul, she—actually called me Freddie." Brian sighed solemnly and said.

"She still blames herself."

"What do you mean?" asked Gwilym.

"Come with me lads." Brian led them over to the cottage porch and all of them sat down along either the railings, the porch swing or on the two chairs that were out. "As you know everyone in Freddie's life suffered after his death. Some of us still grieve the way we do like Roger and myself. And there are some who became so fragile like Deacy. (Y/n).....she's always lied on the in between stage. She misses Freddie beyond anything no mistake about that, but then there are days when she blames herself."

"Blames herself?" Rami asked.

"Yes. See, when Freddie first told us that he was diagnosed with AIDS. He wanted to keep it away from (y/n), because her career was skyrocketing, plus she had her own family to look after with Kelly and the twins. Freddie didn't want her to worry about him, but one year when we were all in Montreux recording our last album Innuendo, (y/n) allowed us to stay at a vacation house of hers that she had there. That's when she began to deduce just what was wrong with Fred. He told Roger and myself that the poor dear had blamed herself for not being there for him. Because—well truthfully there was a fallout with Queen and the Rock Angel for a time. Now whether we make that into the film is unknown I know writers are always doing rewrites. But she felt like had she stepped up to Prenter or held onto Freddie just a bit longer before turning her back on him, he would've been alive today."

"Jesus." Muttered Ben.

"Poor lass." Allen muttered.

"But she couldn't have known. None of you did."

"And we didn't. Because Fred didn't want anyone to know. It was his personal business and his alone. And although (y/n) says she accepts that it wasn't her fault, there are some days where she says it is. And any reminder of it just sometimes makes her snap."

"I don't blame her. I—I know exactly what she's going through because of my dad's illness. Anything regarding glioblastoma and I just freak out. But—thanks to these guys I.....don't know where I would be."

"We're here for you mate." Gwil said as he patted Joe's knee.

"So you see guys, this film is bringing back a lot of memories for her. Good and bad. So Allen I really hope you don't take offense to what just happened."

"Not at all Brian. Besides after hearing and probably thinking what the real Paul Prenter did, no wonder why she would get defensive around Rami. I hold no grudge against her."

"Thank you. Just—give her time to cool down and then you all can go see her." The five boys nodded in agreement and took the guitarist's word.

*My POV*

After a while once I calmed down and decided I needed to find young Allen Leech and apologize for my erratic behavior. I got out of the car and dapped my eyes with a handkerchief and walked towards the barn.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Kline. We're—not sure it's a good idea for you to be here right now." Said one of the crew members. That's understandable, I knew it wouldn't be that easy.

"It's not that we don't want you here it's just that, well after seeing what happened between you and Mr. Leech. We—think it'd be best if you were to not be on the set for a while." I sighed and said.

"I understand. I was way out of line. But—can you please express my deepest apologizes to Mr. Leech. As well as the boys."

"You can tell me that yourself." An Irish voice spoke up. It was then I looked up to see the five boys themselves.

"You're not going anywhere." Said Rami.

"Mr. Malek, we....."

"We heard what you said dear. Now step away from our Rock Angel so that the six of us may talk." He came up and took my hand and the boys took me into the cottage.

We came into the kitchen area and Rami gestured for me to sit down. Joe pulled out a chair and I sat down while the boys surrounded me.

"Boys; I—what you all had to witness, I have no excuse for my behavior. I am ashamed that you all had to see me act like that. Especially you Allen dear. I—hope you all can find it in your hearts to forgive me."

"I do. Seeing me remind you of someone who—was just known to be such an arsehole and black sheep in Queen's circle, I can see why you acted the way you did. I would've done the same thing too had I seen someone I hate come back and standing before someone who was once a dear friend of mine." Allen said. He came up to me and extended his hand.

"Why don't we forget this whole mess ever happened and start over? Hello Rock Angel, my name's Allen Leech." I looked up at him and smiled as I took his hand.

"Pleasure to meet you Allen darling. And please like I've told these guys, call me (y/n)." he smiled and that's when I stood up and hugged Allen and he hugged me back.

"Aww now that's sweet." Rami cooed.

"We're all friends now." Joe said with a smile.

"Yes. We're all friends. Now get in here you lot, group hug boys!" they all laughed and cheered as we all came together and group hugged each other. Forming a new bond and a new start with one another.

Thankfully the studio actually managed to let me stay the rest of the day after that whole fiasco (all thanks to the boys but mostly Allen for agreeing to not press charges on me for assault). Of course they warned me that with another outburst like that, not only would I not be allowed on set again, my consultant position would be taken away.

So I was more well behaved than usual after hearing that I would be kicked off the set.

Right now the lads were recording Gwilym's bit for the guitar solo, but what was cool was that the crew decided to allow Brian to play the solo for the fun of it. So as the playback of Freddie's voice came on, Gwilym stepped aside while Brian came in his spot and began playing his guitar solo.

I stood beside Gwilym as we both observed Brian playing the famed Bohemian Rhapsody guitar solo. I even took my phone out and took a video of what was going on. After the solo, Gwilym walked over to Brian and I made sure to get both of them in the shot.

"That's brilliant. I love that." Rami's voice spoke as Freddie from the other side of the recording studio.

"So now what?" asked Gwilym.

"The operatic section." Said Rami. Both Gwilym and Bri nodded. A grin spreading across Gwilym's face as he muttered.

"Ah-huh. The operatic section. Good."

"Of course." Brian said. Jesus just seeing them like this and hearing the same voice come out of them, it really was like we took Bri back from 1975 and brought him here.

When Dexter Fletcher called cut, I stopped my video and said.

"Oh man Jack's gonna flip when he sees this."

"Is he ever gonna come by for a visit?" Brian asked me.

"Yeah I myself would like to meet the famous Jack Kline." Joe said from the other side of the booth.

"Well unlike us where we know when our schedules begin, law enforcement doesn't get days off. Especially when he's going for the Chief's chair. But who knows maybe he might come by for a day if not a few hours."

"I hope so. It's been awhile since we've seen that husband of yours." Brian told me.

"Yeah, I know. Jack misses coming in every day just like the old days."

"I'll bet he does. Or he just misses seeing the love of his life perform and rehearse. Back in the day when you kids first started dating, he'd always have that puppy love look in his eyes as he watched up on stage. Remember the time in Seattle?"

"That was in Houston, Bri. If you're meaning the time he was so distracted by watching me that he almost ended up tripping over the stage, that was in Houston, Texas."

"Oh yeah that's right."

"Alright we've had our fun, now let's do this for real. Gwilym get to your mark. Brian and (y/n), gonna have to ask you both to get out of the shot frame please."

"Good luck Gwilym dear." I said as I gave him a peck on the cheek for luck as Brian handed him his original red special and we both walked out of the frame and stood behind the camera.

The day continued on filming the boys recording the famed song that this movie was named after and I swear to you, it was like I was seeing history happen. Like I was transported back in time to the summer of 1975 and seeing my boys (just five years before they even became my boys, back when I was just one of their millions of fans) record one of my favorite albums.

And even seeing the struggle and perfectionism that Freddie had for this song. Rami truly brought Freddie's perfectionist behavior right onto the camera and it just—had me bewildered. It was like I was seeing Freddie again, hard at work on his masterpiece.

After a long day's filming, Brian and I unfortunately had to head back to the city to actually record an album together that he was helping me produce. Since touring was over for now, the boys and I (yes including Adam) we were all focusing on our solo stuff now till the next tour came around.

And since Bri had some free time after working with a talented young woman, I had asked him to come help produce my latest album 'Resurrection'. Ever since hearing about the Queen film and also hearing that Elton as well was going to make a biopic film, the title was named in honor of their upcoming films.

Because it would show a whole new generation of audiences what their stories were and show them that like a phoenix, Queen and Elton will resurrect because you can't keep down true legendary artists.

So for about 2 weeks Brian helped produce the album and of course he and I would post on our Instagram accounts both pictures of brief videos of some behind the scenes stuff of our partnership together.

"And there she is. Working diligently as ever." I heard Bri said. I looked up from my I-Pad to see him holding his phone, probably taking a video for his collection package he likes to do on certain events on his Instagram.

"Yes and I thought you'd be helping me too."

"I am. I'm your publicity for now, then I'll go back to being your producer." I smiled and laughed as Brian chuckled. He turned his phone onto him as he spoke to his Instagram followers, "As you can see we're both working extremely hard. Now we can't give too much away, but you can expect this album to be just as powerful as her previous albums in the past."

"But we unfortunately have to go now, our special guest on the album has just arrived and like Bri said, I never give away spoilers." I said as I came in the shot now.

"Okay well you heard the Angel ladies and gents, this is us signing off till next time. Bye."

"Bye!" Brian turned off the video camera and exited his account. And just as he pocketed his phone away, my special guest came in through the doors.

"(Y/n)!"

"Pink, my sister how have you been?" Yep you read right. I had reached out to the one and only Pink to come sing a duet with me. For years since she came up on the market, people have confused our voices cause she and I had the same powerful low range vocals.

Our first time doing a duet was—oh gosh I wanna say very early 2000's. I wanna say even just shortly after the 9-11 attack. I wanted to bring up an album that would spark some life and hope into the people of America, my in-laws especially cause when we lost Jared and Gen, the whole family felt like it was gonna come apart.

I auditioned several young female artists to sing along with me but their voices just either weren't right for the album or they sounded too nasally. But when this young woman at the time, an artist barely known came along, it blew me away at how our voices could mold well together.

So with me singing in a higher range and her taking the low range we launched the song 'Death by bombs, (live by hope)'. It was at the #1 charts in America for the entirety of the New York cleanup and became a national anthem. Pink and I were even asked for several years to sing the song every 9-11 for about 9 years.

Now here we are again six years after our last collaboration.

"You ready to do this?" I asked her.

"Angel, I was born ready. Anytime to sing with you is always gonna be a good one."

"Alright then ladies, step into the booth and let's get this song rolling."

"You got it Brian." Pink said enthusiastically as she and I walked with an arm wrapped around each other's shoulders and we walked into the booth together to begin our work.

Another week passed and when I received a message from Ben Hardy telling me that they were about to start filming my all time favorite music video 'I want to break free' I was on the first flight back to England (since I was recording the album in America) to see the shooting for myself.

I walked through the studio and everything came flooding back. The extras in the cow patterned leotards, the design of the music video set but it wasn't until I saw Joe dressed in the same granny attire that Deacy wore that hit me with pure nostalgia.

"Oh my god nana Johanna I did not know you were still alive." I said exasperatedly.

"Yeah, yeah hahaha very funny." Joe sneered.

"No, no Joe don't take my comment as an insult. You look—every ounce from what I remember Deacy looking like the day I came by with my wedding invitations."

"You were passing out wedding invitations during this music video?" he asked me. I nodded with a hum.

"Jack and I decided to come by to see the guys cause I wanted to deliver their invitations personally. And also ask them to walk me down the aisle since—well you probably know."

"Yeah I get it." He said as he came up and placed a hand on my shoulder. "So you really think I looked exactly like John did?"

"Absolutely. All that's missing is a crying girl crying out 'where's daddy! Where's daddy! That's not my daddy'."

"Okay this could be my dirty mind but that sounded—" I playfully slapped him in the back of the head.

"You're right to get your head out of the gutters young man! I was referring to his daughter Laura. I mean I wasn't there to see it, but Veronica had told me just shortly after the shoot that she had brought the kids over to see their father. Of course Michael and Robert were hysterical with laughter, but poor little Laura who was only 4 at the time was crying cause she didn't recognize her dad."

"Awww well if you wanna recreate it, I can call my sister and get my niece on Facetime to see if it'll work."

"As much as I would love to see that, let's not scar your niece up for life. But yeah, Laura kept denying that the old granny was her dad. Until he took off the wig and she recognized her daddy's fluffy hair."

"That is literally the most adorable thing I've ever heard."

"I know. Laura was a sweet kid. She was the one most attached to me when I first met her. She even recreated a bit of my song for my birthday when she was just 3 years old."

"Okay (y/n) seriously stop you're gonna give me cavities at this point." I laughed and said.

"Alright now show me the rest of the boys, I want to see them."

"They all look amazing. Except for Ben." I looked at him skeptically but he just took my hand and led me towards the kitchen part of the set. There I saw Rami by the table in the pink shirt and leather black skirt, sporting the 1950's hairdo and nails that Freddie wore that day. Gwilym by the fridge in the pink nightie and bunny slippers, along with the curlers, and of course Ben in the 'Rogerina' getup.

The same style wig, the schoolgirl outfit with the leggings, the heels. Wow he looked more of a Rogerina than the real Roger did for this music video.

I let out a wolf whistle and that's when the three of them turned towards me.

"Rogerina has returned. The women who makes men drool at her feet and women turn for her. And if my son Freddie were here, honey you would most certainly turn him."

"God (y/n) please stop embarrassing me." Ben whined.

"I shall not. My cousin Rogerina was the talk of the town back home. Of course along with Aunt Brianna and Fairy godmother Frida."

"Is that what you really called the guys when you saw them like this?" asked Gwilym.

"Who do you think started the trend names? Freddie's was—kinda last minute since....well due to certain things going on at that time. But really you guys, I love each and every one of you."

"I'm still disappointed in Ben's look." Joe bluntly stated.

"And why's that?"

"His thighs are too big. Too much rugby."

"Yes Joe I know. I've been trying to slim down as best I could but these thighs man!"

"Not everyone can please everybody Ben. But trust me when I say, fans will love this and will love you as Rogerina. Plus I think you look absolutely beautiful."

"You really think so?"

"Hell yeah. You're still prettier than I am."

"Oh come on now that's never gonna happen. You are an eternal beauty."

"That's what I've been telling her for years." A voice said behind us. No way. It—it couldn't be. I turned around and my ears weren't deceiving me at all.

Dressed in grey shirt with a dark color blazer and dark blue jeans, the greying of his once blonde hair but those warm eyes of his were unmistakable. A wide smile spread across my face as I laughed out and walked towards him.

"Jack!" I hugged him and he hugged me back. I separated but kept my arms wrapped around his neck. "What are you doing here?"

"The case got solved so I figured might as well put some time off and see just what you and Freddie were talking about. So I called up Roger and asked him where the filming was at, and here I am."

"Ohhh you." I leaned forward and we gave each other a loving kiss.

"Awww." We separated from each other and I cleared my throat.

"Whoa. Okay did we just transport back in time?" asked Jack.

"No love. Boys, I'd like you to meet my husband and the love of my life for over 30 years, Jack Kline. Jack, this is Rami Malek, Gwilym Lee, Joe Mazzello and Ben Hardy." I pointed to each of the actors individually.

"It's a pleasure to meet you boys." Jack said with a wave.

"Believe us, it's an honor to meet you Mr. Kline. Brian, Rog and (y/n) have told us many stories about you." said Rami.

"Oh god, if Roger was telling the stories he made me look bad didn't he?" I playfully slapped his chest.

"Not all the time." replied Ben.

"In all seriousness, I must say.....wow this is....."

"I know right? Oh darling just wait till you see the Live Aid sequence Brian managed to record. Don't they just look the part?"

"Yeah. So much so that it's almost scary."

"Ohh and Jack dear, you remember back when George and Jackson were obsessed with Jurassic Park?"

"Lord do I ever. They practically ruined the tape." He said with a groan.

"Well—Joe here, played the young boy Tim in the film." I then saw Jack's jaw drop as he turned towards Joe.

"So you're—you were....."

"Yep. I was little Tim Murphy in Jurassic Park. My first major gig that got my name out there."

"Wow. And seeing you now dressed like this it—you look so much like him." Jack said in awe. I turned to Joe with a 'told you so' look.

"Yeah it was scary to see just how much I looked like him. I even asked my mom if she was up to anything around 1983." Jack laughed.

The rest of the day was spent seeing the boys perform the music video, as well as a couple more stage concerts from both the 70's and 80's. When Jack got to see these four young actors in full Queen costume and hair/makeup, he was blown away. As we were in the back of the extras who were the crowd, Jack kept his arms around me as we watch in awe.

His head leaning against mine as we watched Rami literally become Freddie with every strut, head turn and bent back, se saw Gwilym play a model of the red special guitar just how Brian is known for, Ben working hard in the back with the drums literally playing just like how Roger is known to play. But I know that out of the four of them, Jack was beyond amazed at seeing Joe Mazzello play his former mentor and idol John 'Disco' Deacy.

His bass playing and even doing the funky little moves that John as known to do on a more upbeat song like 'Fat Bottomed girls,' or 'We will Rock you'. We clapped along with the extras and cheered for them. I knew that with what I've seen so far, this movie was going to be—sensational. Just like the band themselves.

Later that night after wrapping for the day, Jack and I were now at home getting ready for bed.

"So, what did you think of it?"

"They picked the right actors. And the right team to work on it. You were right (y/n)."

"Of course I am." I teased.

"Don't get cheeky with me love, you know what I mean. This movie it—it's everything I hoped it would be. I just wonder if—he would've loved it." I looked at my husband empathetically and said so

"He does." I looked out towards the window up at the stars and continued, "They both do." I felt Jack wrap his arm around me and the two of us cuddled up close together and fell right asleep after a long and busy day.

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missjanjie · 3 years

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Taste of a Poison Paradise | Chapter 8

Title: Taste of a Poison Paradise Summary: Life at Jackie Cox’s strip club, Poison Paradise, isn’t just lapdances and g-strings. There’s enough drama, lust, and heartache to rival any soap opera. None of the girls know what to expect on any given shift, especially while navigating their torrid, complicated relationships. Word Count: ~3k (this chapter) / ~24.2k (total) Relationship(s): Lemyanka (Lemon/Priyanka), Crygi (Crystal Methyd/Gigi Goode), Sportsdoll (Jan Sport/Nicky Doll), Jaidie (Jaida Essence Hall/Jackie Cox), BVK (Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo/Kameron Michaels), Rosnali (Rosé/Denali Foxx) Rating: E

Read on AO3 | Ko-Fi

Chapter Summary: Things seem to be going well for Lemon until they go really bad really fast. Things are actually going well for Jackie and Jaida.

For the next couple of weeks, it seemed like Lemon was on the mend. She had finished her finals, gotten through her senior year, and now it was time to celebrate. Hers and Gigi’s graduations were only a couple of days apart, so the group decided to combine their graduation party that weekend.

It was one of the rare times the club was closed on a Saturday, but Jackie wanted to make sure everyone could celebrate together and turned the main room into their party space. “Cheers,” she said, raising her glass, “to Lemon and Gigi, college graduates!”

The group clinked their glasses together and drank, everyone resuming their casual conversation, relaxed, and enjoying one another’s company. With the exception, of course, of Lemon and Priyanka, who were still trying to avoid each other like the plague.

“Look, I love those two as much as the rest of y’all, but I’ve stopped feeling sorry for them — at this point, it’s just annoying,” Kameron remarked as she watched the way they behaved with a grimace. “Not that it’s any of my business, but it kind of is considering how often I have to witness them, but how long were they hooking up for anyway?”

Vanessa furrowed her brows as she counted on her fingers. “Dunno, like four months?”

“Shit, that’s like a lesbian year,” she murmured, sipping her drink. “This isn’t gonna fix itself is it?”

“Not as long as Pri’s got that rock on her finger.”

“It could be worse,” Brooke Lynn chimed in, her lips pursed around the straw in her glass, “at least she doesn’t wear it to work, can you imagine the fit Lemon would throw if she had to stare down a diamond every day?”

The three of them looked at Lemon, who, at least for the moment, appeared to be enjoying herself, then at Priyanka, who was talking to Crystal and looking stressed.

“So, dress shopping is happening on Wednesday?” Crystal asked. “Does she know?”

“Of course she doesn’t know,” Priyanka scoffed and shook her head, “I have no idea how to keep her from knowing, no one can keep a secret in their family.”

Crystal winced but nodded. “Well, good luck,” she offered before Gigi made their way to her side and her attention immediately became divided.

“Thanks,” Priyanka mumbled, her gaze drifting to Lemon, who was talking animatedly to Jan and Rosé, “I’ll need it.”

------

By the time Wednesday rolled around, Priyanka’s nerves hadn’t quelled in the slightest. Lucky for her, at least, those with her — her mother, sister, and future mother-in-law wrote it off as pre-wedding jitters. Scarlett knew better, but there was no need to blow up her best friend’s spot like that.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to a more traditional store?” The mother-in-law asked, “I know Mark doesn’t want your culture to be ignored.”

“It will be two separate ceremonies,” Priyanka’s mom cut in before she could speak for herself, “she will be wearing her grandmother’s sari for that.”

Priyanka had to fight off the pained expression that tried to twist its way onto her face. It was only when she had broken the news to her family that she remembered what a big event weddings were in her family. She wasn’t about to get off lightly with this. Instead, she let the assistant at the shop lead her to a rack of dresses and suggested a few. She agreed to them without giving them a proper look, figuring she would let a majority rule.

Once she was in the first dress, she returned to the main room and stepped up on the platform in front of the mirrors. Right away, the women began discussing and debating the pros and cons of the dress — where it fit right, where it’d need to be taken in. But she couldn’t bring herself to focus on anything, instead zoning out to the song playing through the store’s speakers.

I'm living for the only thing I know I'm running and not quite sure where to go And I don't know what I'm diving into Just hanging by a moment here with you

Normally, Priyanka would roll her eyes at this sort of song, at the cheesy love in the lyrics. But with her only alternative being actively participating in shopping for a wedding dress, she listened to the music and let it resonate.

Desperate for changing Starving for truth I'm closer to where I started I'm chasing after you

She winced but blamed it on accidentally being stuck with a pin. They didn’t have to play a song that hit so close to home, she thought. It made it that much harder to ignore the feelings that bubbled up inside her. It was only then that she realized someone was talking to her. “Huh?”

“I asked if you liked the dress,” Scarlett replied.

“Oh,” she cleared her throat. “Yeah, it’s fine.” She then realized she should have been more convincing because she found herself ushered back into the dressing room to try on dress number two, which she would then force enthusiasm for so the day would end as soon as possible.

“Are you okay?” her mother asked with sincere concern.

Priyanka nodded as she stepped off the platform. “Just a little lightheaded, I didn’t have breakfast.”

“Well, let’s get this dress taken care of, then we’ll go get something to eat.”

She nodded again as she went back to change into her regular clothes. Maybe she did just need to eat, she thought. Maybe some food or a nap would bring her back into reality. The reality where she was preparing to get married. The reality that Lemon could no longer be the main character in, no matter what some stupid song was trying to tell her. Or even worse, no matter how much she wanted her to be.

------

“You don’t normally ask me to make house calls,” Jaida remarked as Jackie let her into the apartment, “is everything okay?”

Jackie exhaled deeply. No matter how many times she had rehearsed what she was going to say, she still ended up tongue-tied the second she laid eyes on her. But she was determined to work her way through this and not let nerves get the best of her. “I watched the video you did with Denali. I… I watched it more times than I’d like to admit,” she confessed. “And I can’t get the image of you fucking her out of my mind. But more specifically… I can’t stop picturing myself in her place.”

Jaida had to put all of her mental energy into fighting off a smug grin. She wanted to choose her words carefully, not wanting to overwhelm an already anxious Jackie. “Since we’re being honest here, that’s kinda what I was aiming for,” at Jackie’s confused reaction, she continued, “you could have been less obvious with your username and how you talk online. Maybe it’s ‘cause I know you so well, but I could read all of your messages in your voice.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured to confront how you felt, considering your coming out was still fresh for you. I just wanted you to know that the option was there whenever you were ready.”

There was a silent beat before Jackie swallowed thickly and told her, “I’m ready.”

“Then tell me what you want, baby.”

“I want you to fuck me.” The words felt foreign for Jackie to say, the phrase has never left her lips with any sort of sincerity before. But at the same time, she had never been more certain in her life about what she wanted and how badly she wanted it.

Jaida moved to Jackie, wrapping her arms around her waist and kissing her deeply. “I’m gonna take good care of you, okay?” she promised as they made their way to the bedroom.

And Jackie trusted her, she trusted her more than she would have anyone else in this position. She let Jaida take her to bed, let her take her time undressing her and pressing kisses to every newly exposed inch of skin. She eagerly helped her clothes off as well, letting her hands roam her body in ways she had only fantasized about.

“I don’t want you to be afraid of being loud,” Jaida told her. “I wanna hear you, wanna know how good I’m making you feel.” As she spoke, her fingers glided down Jackie’s body, stopping between her thighs before starting to rub her clit in small, firm circles.

Jackie’s head tilted back into the pillows, soft moans spilling from her lips. Her body yielded to Jaida’s touch and her moans grew louder as the other woman eased one finger into her, thrusting and curling it before adding another and picking up a steady rhythm.

“Good girl,” she praised, trailing kisses down her body. She then slowly eased her fingers out and replaced them with her tongue, licking and thrusting at a similar pace while her fingers moved to rub her clit in tandem.

It wasn’t long before the sensation became overwhelming and Jackie’s hips started to jerk erratically. She barely managed to squeak out a warning before she came harder than she ever had before, her body trembling when she was spent. “Oh my god…”

Jaida came back up and laid beside her. “Are you okay?” she asked softly, pushing the hair out of her face.

“I’m good,” Jackie assured. “I just… I haven’t… it, um…”

“Jackie…” she furrowed her brows and sat up a bit, “have you ever been with a woman before?”

Jackie’s face turned a deep shade of red. “I have, kind of. It’s been hard to work through so many years of repression and internalized homophobia, you know? I’ve made out with girls, fooled around a bit. But I guess no, I’ve never properly had sex with another woman before. I wouldn’t have wanted to put that pressure on you anyway. Besides, I couldn’t have asked for a better first time.”

Jaida exhaled deeply, suddenly becoming aware of the weight that’d built upon her chest. “Then that’s all I needed to hear.”

------

“There’s a birthday party out there tonight,” Gigi remarked offhandedly as they and Lemon got ready in the quick-change room. “I know how much you love those,” they added with an overly exaggerated eye roll.

Lemon groaned. Birthdays and bachelor parties were tied for the worst groups of men to deal with as clients, the only exceptions being the ones that take it as an opportunity to go all out and tip well. “And you’re on the stage next?” she let out another disgruntled whine when they nodded, finishing off her cocktail. “Gonna get a refill, gonna need it for doing rounds.” Naturally, when she went to the bar, she went right to Crystal. The downside was Crystal knew to cut her off after three drinks and she had to flirt with men to keep the drinks coming.

“You’re getting your third one this early?” Crystal questioned as she mixed it for her. “Something on your mind?”

“Nope. Just got a birthday party that’s probably all gonna want lap dances,” she replied, taking a swig as soon as she got the drink in her hand. Sure, it didn’t help that she had seen Scarlett’s instagram post of Priyanka in her wedding dress earlier, but she wasn’t about to hash that out, especially not with the bride-to-be all of four feet away.

And Crystal wasn’t entirely convinced, but she knew there was no use in pushing further. “Well, good luck,” she offered.

Lemon set her empty glass on the counter before making her way through the crowd. It took a little while before she ended up in the vicinity of the group of men, and not long after that, they flagged her down. At first, it was business as usual, though she couldn’t shake the feeling that one of the men seemed familiar.

“Hey Mark,” the man celebrating his birthday remarked, “maybe we should come back here for your bachelor party. I bet Priyanka won’t mind!” he laughed.

That made Lemon freeze in her tracks as it all clicked. She saw red and her blood boiled with a wave of anger and loathing she had never felt before. Something inside of her took over, she hadn’t even realized she had thrown a drink in his face and screamed at him until Kameron was pulling her away and all eyes in the club were on her, including Priyanka’s, who had dropped everything to run over the second she heard Lemon scream.

“Who the hell are you?” Mark asked incredulously.

“I’m who your fianceé thinks about while you’re fucking her,” Lemon snarled while locked in Kameron’s grasp.

It was then that both Mark and Lemon realized Priyanka was right there. “What the fuck is she talking about, Pri?”

Priyanka felt her heart drop into the pit of her stomach as she prayed for the floor to open up beneath her so the ground would swallow her whole. She knew she had been playing a dangerous game, but she could have never predicted that it would blow up in her face this badly. “I-”

“She’s never gonna love you,” Lemon continued with disdain in her voice. But then her tone softened to a calm, albeit distant one. “But don’t worry,” she looked towards Priyanka, their eyes meeting, “she’s never gonna love me either.”

Other than the music playing in the background, the room was silent as Lemon let Kameron take her upstairs to the common room. “How are you feeling?” she asked gently as she sat at the other end of the couch, resting her hand on the smaller girl’s leg. “You really caused a scene back there.”

“Whatever,” she mumbled. “He was gonna find out eventually. You can’t live a lie forever,” she hiccuped as she sprawled her barely-dressed body out. “I need another drink.”

“The only thing you’re drinking is water,” she said sternly, getting up and grabbing a water bottle from the fridge and bringing it back, propping Lemon up enough so she could drink. “I’m gonna call Rosé and have her take you home, I don’t think you should stick around tonight,” she told her as she fished her phone from her pocket.

Lemon nodded and pushed herself to sit up properly. She hung her head down, intentionally hiding her face from Kameron as she sniffled quietly. “Pri’s gonna hate me now, isn’t she?”

Kameron winced, unsure of how honest she should be with someone both drunk and emotionally unstable. “I think once the dust settles, you two are going to have to have a long talk. It’s not gonna be easy, but it’s gonna be the only way you two have a shot at healing.”

“I ruined her marriage.”

She shook her head. “She ruined her marriage the moment she said yes to someone she didn’t want to be with. She probably would’ve gotten cold feet and left him at the altar,” she mused, both out of her honest belief and the hope that she could get Lemon to crack a smile. And once she did, she felt comfortable getting back up and calling Rosé, warning her of exactly what happened.

“I got here as fast as I could,” Rosé announced once she made it upstairs. “Three different guys tried to buy lap dances off me on the way, sorry,” she added before rushing to her cousin’s side. “You’ve done it now, huh, Lem?” she shook her head as she helped her to her feet.

Vanessa emerged from the locker room with the rest of Lemon’s belongings. “Here, you might wanna get her changed before you take her back outta here.”

Kameron furrowed her brows. “You know her locker combination?”

“Um… yes?” she tucked a bobby pin into her back pocket. “This ain’t about me,” she was quick to change the subject and helped Lemon get changed.

Rosé effectively ignored the entire exchange, saying her goodbyes to the other women before driving Lemon back home and getting her changed again, this time into pajamas. “Mik isn’t home, you can sleep in her bed,” she offered.

Lemon chewed her lip for a moment, then shook her head. “Can I stay with you? I just… I don’t wanna be by myself.”

“Of course, baby,” she assured and tucked her into bed. “Do you need anything? Water? Something to eat?”

“Need to wake up in a world where none of this happened.”

Rosé sighed sadly. “Fresh out, unfortunately.” She changed as well before joining her in bed. “Just wake me if you need anything, okay?” When she got a nod of confirmation, she turned the lights off and called it a night.

But that wasn’t the case for Lemon. No, she wouldn’t be so lucky. Even though she had been drunk, the incident replayed in her mind in great detail no matter how many times she tried to shut it off. That, coupled with struggling to sort through the mix of emotions still swirling through her, kept her awake for another hour or so before exhaustion took over and she passed out.

And back at the club, everyone else was left to pick up the pieces of the explosive incident. But as much as the clientele was willing to move past what they’d witnessed, none of the employees could get themselves to carry on. So, with Jackie’s blessing, they called it an early night and nearly everyone went back home.

Priyanka hung back, seeking solace in Jackie’s office, knowing her boss might be the only one that could understand the gravity of the fallout. “What the fuck am I supposed to do now, Jackie? This is effectively outing me to everyone. And I look bad too, they’re gonna find out I’m gay and a cheater in one go. What should I do?”

Jackie sighed, her heart truly breaking for her. “I wish there was an easy answer for this. I think, for now, you just need to get through the night.”

And Priyanka would, though she was afraid to fall asleep, overwhelmed with the need to postpone tomorrow as long as she could, because she had run out of ways to hide or lie her way out of it.

#lemyanka #jaidie #rpdr rpf

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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years

Text

Far From Her

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: the school trip to Europe makes you and Peter reexamine your relationship

(post endgame, during far from home)

hope you’re all staying safe

Masterlist

You gave it five months.

Five months of strictly platonic friendship following the blip before you and Peter got back together.

You were together for 8 months before it all happened. And when you came back, you both decided that if you still wanted to be together at the end of the five months, you would be. But, it you found that you worked better as friends, you’d stay that way.

Rebuilding your friendship with Peter was more enjoyable than you thought. You found yourself slowly rediscovering why you fell for him in the first place instead of forcing yourself to be with him. It was a good plan, though you missed him. But the Peter that blipped wasn’t the Peter that came back. This new Peter had seen things the other Peter hadn’t. He was sadder, and a little more guarded. He was still a good friend, but in no position to be a boyfriend. That’s why when you suggested the five month break, Peter was more than relieved. He loved you, that hadn’t changed, but he some needed time to himself. Spider-Man had become a beacon of hope for New York and Peter was feeling every ounce of that weight.

You weren’t blind to this. At a press conference May was hosting, you could see how overwhelmed Peter was, even through his mask. When he slipped away from the journalists to get some air, you followed him to the roof to check if he was alright.

“Hey.” You shut the door to the roof behind you and walked to Peter.

“Hey.” He said, relieved that it was just you. He held your hand as you sat down so you wouldn’t fall.

“You looked like you could use the company of someone who doesn’t know how to work a camera.” You commented and he gave you a half smile.

“Something like that.” He nodded before turned his attention to the horizon. You watched his face, noticing how tired and worn out he looked. You rubbed his back in slow circles to wordlessly let him know you were there for him.

“I know you have a lot on your plate right now, but you’re doing a great job. Just seeing your face is bringing people comfort.” You said softly. His jaw tightened as you spoke as if he was trying to keep himself from crying. You put your arm around his shoulder and pulled him in, not pressuring him to say anything back.

“I don’t know. What if I’m just giving them false hope? Everyone wants something from me, and I don’t know how much left to give.” He said quietly without looking at you. You tilted his chin to face you and gave him a comforting smile.

“You’ve already given so much. Just take it easy for a while.” You asked of him. He gave you a half baked smile and nodded.

“What about you? Is there anything you want from me?” He switched to a lighter tone.

“All I want from you is your company.” You grinned at him and he laughed.

“I can manage that.” He told you. You smiled at each other, just appreciating the others company.

“There’s actually something I wanted to ask you.” You remembered and Peter sighed as if he knew what was coming.

“Yes, there are aliens in space. I saw one.” He shuddered and you laughed in surprise.

“That’s not what I was gonna ask but we are definitely gonna get back to that later.” You chuckled. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay with me going on the Europe trip.”

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” Peter asked, who had been looking forward to spending the time with you.

“Because, I don’t know.” You suddenly felt awkward. “I know we agreed to rebuild our friendship before getting back together, but this might be too much too soon. Europe is very romantic and it could push us before we’re ready.”

“How so?” He tilted his head to the side.

“I don’t know, Peter. You might see me eating a baguette and think damn, I need her so bad. I need her so bad.” You said and he leaned into you as he laughed. “It might cripple you completely, if we’re honest. Who knows if you’ll ever recover?”

“I think I’ll be okay.” He assured you. “And where are you getting this baguette from? We’re going to Italy.”

“They have baguettes in other parts of the world, dude. God, you disappear for 5 years and come back acting like you don’t know nobody.” You joked, making Peter laugh again.

“Alright, alright. What about you, though? What if you see me eating some gelato and fall irrevocably in love with me?” He dished it back and you burst out laughing. “What if you’re so turned on by the sight of me eating that creamy gelato that you become paralyzed?”

“I hear that happens a lot, actually.” You told him. “You’re such a good friend for thinking of me.”

“I try, I try.” He agreed. Your laughter died down and he looked at you fondly. “I’m glad we’re doing this. I need a break from it all. Not from you, though.”

“Me too.” You looked up at him before resting your head on his shoulder. You sat in comfortable silence for a while, just taking the time to be with each other.

You weren’t in Italy for even five hours before you were attacked. You had been standing by the docks, talking to Peter when a giant wave came from the water. You made eye contact from a distance and he gave you a knowing nod. He helped Ned and Betty out of a boat as he made his way to you.

“What is that?” You asked him as the water took shape.

“I’m not really sure. It wasn’t in any of the pamphlets.” The wheels in Peters brain turned as he thought of his next move.

“I’ll make sure everyone on the ground is safe. Try to get as high as you can and do your whole spider thing.” You strategized and he turned his attention back to you.

“Okay.” Peter nodded right as a massive wave was sent your way. He wrapped one arm around you and used the other to shoot a web at the wall. You both flew back against the wall and he covered you with his body as the wave hit.

“I gotta go. Be safe.” He instructed before he turned to swing away.

“Peter, wait.” You called, still pressed against the wall. He turned back to you and you grabbed his face, kissing him like it’d be the last time. “Please make it back this time.”

All he could do was nod before you ran after your friends. He watched you even after you had left before swinging to the tallest building to fight the water.

“Hey, Pete.” You leaned against his doorframe in your pajamas later that night. Unbeknownst to you, a very impatient Nick Fury was also in the room. Peter smiled at little at the sight of you ready for bed, but quickly cleared his throat when he remembered Nick Fury was losing his patience.

“Hey, uh, hi.” He stumbled over his words as an angry look crossed Fury’s face.

“Can I come in?” You asked and Peter looked to Fury for approval. Fury took a gun out from his hip and pointed it at you, out of your sight. Peter gulped and shook his head.

“No!” He held up a hand to keep you from coming any closer. “Ned is sleeping and you might wake him.” He said the first excuse he could think of.

“Oh, okay. No problem.” Your face faltered a little and Peter knew heaven was unintentionally hurting your feelings. He looked at Fury again, who looked like he was ready to kill Peter, and Peter had a feeling he’d do it.

“He’s really sleepy.” Peter said, never taking his eyes off Fury.

“Right.” You nodded awkwardly. “Do you have a minute to talk? About before?”

“Before?” Peter squeaked, playing dumb so you wouldn’t bring up the kiss in front of Fury.

“When we -uh- when I, you know…” You trailed off, wondering if he really didn’t remember you kissing him.

“Right, that. Totally forgot about that.” Peter lied. “Can we talk about it some other time maybe? I’m really busy right now.”

“Busy brushing your teeth?” You half laughed and nodded to his toothbrush. Peter looked to Fury for help, but found none.

“Dental hygiene is very important.” Peter stated.

“Sure. Some other time, then.” You nodded curtly and left his room. Peter sighed in relief when you walked away.

“That was my-“ He tried to explain.

“I don’t care.” Fury boomed. “Next person to walk through that door gets shot.”

Peter complied and reluctantly followed Fury onto a boat, thinking about you the whole ride.

After having to ditch you at the opera to fight an elemental, Peter positioned himself outside your door with an apology ready. You had made plans to sit together before Peter remembered he had previous arrangements. He slapped his face to react himself and knocked on your door. Every second he waited for you to open him brought more anxiety. Finally, you opened the door to him and your face saddened.

“Hey.” You said softly.

“Hi.” Peter responded, nervously shouldering his backpack.

“I missed you at the opera.” You spoke. Peter sighed in defeat and nodded.

“I was sick.” He barely committed to his lie.

“Right.” You nodded, not believing it when Ned told you the first time and not believing it now.

“Did you maybe want to go on a walk?” Peter asked timidly. “I feel like we haven’t gotten a chance to talk really since we got here, and I have something I want to tell you.”

“Yea, sure.” You said, knowing what was coming. “I’ll grab my jacket.”

You and Peter walked a few paces from the hotel until you were past the entry way. Peter dug his hands in his pockets, looking nervous and unsure of himself. You studied his body language and chewed your bottom lip, his nerves giving you nerves.

“Y/n, I-“ Peter began.

“Don’t want to get back together.” You finished his sentence for him with a defeated but accepting look in your eye. Peters entire body retracted in confusion at your statement. He was about to tell you he loved you and wanted to get back together. After the kiss, he thought you felt the same way.

And then you hit him with that.

“What?” He stammered.

“It’s fine, Peter. You don’t have to say it. I got all your hints.” You folded your arms, putting your guard up. Peters felt a twinge of pain at your actions. He never wanted to be someone you needed to guard yourself around.

“My hints?” He repeated. “Wait, what?”

“In your room the other night.” You reminded him like it was obvious. “You refused to talk about the kiss. You wouldn’t even look at me.” You said the last part like it stung you to even think about.

“I have a reason.” He promised, realizing he was losing his handle on the situation quicker than he wanted.

“What’s your reason?” You asked. Peter was dumbfounded for a moment. He was specifically instructed not to tell you his reason.

“It’s a secret reason.” He offered timidly and you rolled your eyes.

“Is it the same reason you ditched me at the opera?” You humored and you shoved your hands in your pockets.

“Yes.” He said weakly.

“How convenient.” You laughed bitterly and distanced yourself from him.

“It’s a really good secret reason!” He pleaded with you to understand.

“I bet it is.” You looked up at the sky to keep from crying. “You don’t have to lie to me, Peter. You obviously took me on this walk to tell me you didn’t want to get back together.”

“I’m not lying. I took you on this walk because I wanted to talk to you for once. And I wanted to sit with you at the opera.” Peters voice cracked as he got emotional. “I really, really did. But I have a lot going on that I’m not allowed to tell you about. You think I don’t want to be walking the streets of Italy, holding your hand? I would so much rather be spending every second of this vacation with you than what I have to be doing.” He cried as you stood silently. “I’d love to talk about the kiss. I’d love to hear about every second of that four hour opera from your perspective. But I can’t. You have to believe me when I tell you, I just can’t.”

“Honestly, I don’t know why I’m even upset.” You shrugged and wiped a tear from your cheek. “I should be used to you leaving by now.”

“What are you talking about?” He panted.

“You left the bus when we were going to MOMA. Ned told me you jumped off to follow that space ship.” You brought up for the first time since The Blip. Peter tilted his head in confusion, never knowing that bothered you.

“The Avengers needed me. I had to go.” He said like it was obvious.

“Did they call for you?” You questioned and Peter was caught off guard.

“No.” He realized, still not knowing why it mattered.

“I did.” You told him. “When the cars piled up because drivers had disappeared from their cars, I looked for you. And when our bus got hit from the back because the person driving behind us turned to dust, I called out your name. And when kids started faded away, kids I knew, I started to cry because I couldn’t find you. With dust in my lungs, dust made up of my classmates, I cried out for you. And you weren’t there. You were off helping the Avengers.”

“I didn’t know that.” Peter said quietly. You looked at him with a pained expression.

“You abandoned me, Peter.” You whimpered as tears fell down your cheeks. “Now I know that if the world was ending, I wouldn’t even cross your mind. How is that supposed to make me feel?”

“I didn’t know what was gonna happen.” He tried to defend his actions, but even he knew what he did was wrong. He left you during the most traumatic moment of your life.

“But you knew something was gonna happen. And when given the choice, you chose to run to the Avengers instead of me. And I bet Mr. Stark tried to send you home. I bet he told you to leave but you wouldn’t go, am I right?” You asked and Peter reluctantly nodded. “I know it’s selfish of me to even think this. A part of me knows that this is your job and you had to go. But the other part, the other part of me really wishes I could’ve seen my boyfriend one last time before I disappeared. Is that selfish?”

“No.” Peter sniffled as his heart broke.

“I don’t mean to blame you. But Peter, you jumped out of a moving bus and swung away without anybody seeing you. I’m pretty sure you could’ve tapped me on shoulder and told me you were gonna leave. I could’ve gone with you. I could’ve helped.” You said weakly and Peter could see just how hurt you were. How hurt he made you.

“You could’ve gotten hurt.” He protested.

“Look at me, Peter. Do I not look hurt to you?” You laughed sadly.

“I didn’t think when I saw the spaceship. I just acted.” He tried to defend his actions, but even he knew he was in the wrong.

“I didn’t even get a goodbye.” You looked down and hugged your jacket to your body as Peter realized what this was about. You didn’t want him to not help the Avengers. You just wanted a goodbye from your boyfriend before he ran off to space to fight a war he didn’t start.

“I’m sorry.” Peter said sincerely. He took a step towards you and you took a step back.

“I was looking for you as my body turned to dust. I just needed to see your face one last time to know everything was going to be okay.” You mumbled. “Were you looking for me too?”

“I don’t know.” Peter shrugged in defeat. You both knew he wasn’t. In the heat of the moment, you hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“I don’t know either. Maybe that’s the answer, though. Maybe we’re just too different now. I know we broke up to find ourselves, but maybe the people we found aren’t meant to be with each other.” You found some strength in your voice as you took the emotional upper hand.

“I don’t believe that.” Peter insisted, grasping at the straws of your relationship.

“Look at the material, Peter!” You stated. “Can you honestly look at me and say I’m the girl you fell in love with?”

“No.” Peter said after a moment of contemplation. “You’re not her.”

“But that’s who you want.” You said tearfully. “That’s who you look for everytime you look into my eyes. You want the girl who lived across the hall who you used to stay up all night watching movies with, and the girl you knew like the back of your hand. She’s the one you look for, but it’s me who disappoints you when you can’t find her.”

“But I love you.” Peter swore.

“And I love you.” You told him.

“More than I’ve ever loved anything in my life.” He continued.

“But what if that’s all we have? We can say we love each other, but do we know each other? Can we still read each other? Or am I just a stranger you think you recognize?” You tilted your head and he thought about it.

“I don’t know.” He said, dumbfounded again.

“I don’t think I want to find out.” You said before digging through your bag. You pulled out a black device covered in Peters webs and shoved it into his hands. “Here. I found this by the Ferris wheel. I was there, by the way. And apparently, so were you.” You said as you began to walk back towards the hotel. Peter looked at the device curiously before calling o to you.

“Please don’t go.” He begged you, his heating up with panic.

“I’m taking a page out of your book, Peter.” You called, never looking back.

Peter held the device in his hands, watching you walk away until his vision was blurred with tears. He dropped the device to rub his eyes, causing it to project an elemental monster he hadn’t seen before. When Peter saw Mysterio flying around in the projection, he realized leaving you wasn’t the only mistake he had made that day.

Peter found himself battered and bruised on Happy’s jet after he tried to tell Fury about Mysterio. Mysterio somehow got ten steps ahead and nearly broke Peters will to go on with his illusions.

Nearly, but not quite.

As Peter sat in the jet, entire body aching and head throbbing, he thought of you. It might be impossible to take down Mysterio on his own, but he’d do it if it meant you’d be safe.

“Can you dial Nick Fury’s number on my phone? I gotta get started on this suit.” Peter asked as he tossed his phone to Happy. Happy opened the phone app and was alarmed with the number of notifications Peter had.

“Do you ever check your voicemail?” Happy said when he saw the multiple messages in Peters inbox.

“My what?” Peter asked as he finished up the suit.

“Voice mail. The messages people leave when you don’t answer their calls.” Happy explained like it was obvious.

“That’s a thing?” Peter wondered and Happy looked unamused.

“I hate teenagers.” He grumbled. “Look at this, 28 from May, 13 from Ned, 6 from Y/n. Isn’t that your girlfriend?”

“From Y/n? From when?” Peter walked to Happy and peered at the phone.

“April 10th 2018.” Happy read the date.

“That’s the day we all blipped.” Peter realized. “Can I see that?”

“It’s your phone, man.” Happy said tiredly as he handed the phone to Peter. Peter quickly played your message and put it on speaker phone.

“Hey, Peter. Its Y/n. I don’t know where you went but I’m getting kinda worried. The sky got really dark all the sudden and the road is building up like crazy. Can you call me please? I just need to know you’re safe. Alright. I love you. Call me back.” Your voice sounded through the phone. Peter listened with a pained expression as he played another one.

“Hey Peter. It’s me again. The bus got hit by another car. I don’t…I don’t know if I’m gonna make it out of this. I love you. Wherever you are. Okay. Bye.” A tearful message played. Happy took Peters phone before he could torture himself with another message.

“I messed up.” Peter said stolidly as tears fell from his eyes.

“Yea, kid, you did.” Happy agreed. Peter didn’t say anything, just cried silent tears as Happy watched.

“Look, if she was dumb enough to date you, she’ll be dumb enough to take you back. Okay?” Happy tried to comfort him.

“I gotta see her.” Peter decided, wiping his face.

“Sure. Just save Europe first, if you could. Then you can talk to your girlfriend.” Happy bartered. Peter nodded and readied himself to enact the plan.

A few hours later, Peter limped along Tower Bridge after taking down Mysterio. He was exhausted, dirty, and in a desperate need to see you. He looked around for a moment, thinking he heard your voice, but ultimately decided it was his imagination playing tricks on him.

“Peter!” He heard your voice again and heard footsteps accompanying it. He stumbled through the smoke until he saw you running towards him.

“Y/n?” Peter asked before your arms were thrown around him. He immediately hugged you back, squeezing his eyes tightly shut to keep from breaking down. “I thought I lost you.”

“I know the feeling.” You squeezed him back, apologizing and making up all in one hug. You tucked some hair behind your ear and gave him a tight smile. “Is Mysterio gone?”

“Yea, he’s gone.” Peter said as you rubbed some dirt off his face.

“So everything’s okay now?” You asked, giving him a once over to check for injuries.

“No, it’s not.” Peter shook his head. “Nothing will ever be okay as long as you and I are broken up.”

“I understand what you’re trying to say, but in the current context of our situation, I just feel like that was out of pocket.” You told him.

“I don’t care.” He protested. “Y/n, I just got hit by train, jumped out of a jet, and nearly got shot in the head. But during all of that, all I could think about was seeing your face again.”

“You got hit by a train in broad daylight?” You repeated.

“I think I only survived because I knew I had to come back to you.” He laughed lightly. You stoped thinking about the train and looked at him fondly, taking in what he had said.

“Peter.” You bit your trembling lip and rested your arms around his shoulder. He pulled you by the waist and rested his forehead against yours.

“When I was laying on that train seat, bleeding out, the only thing I could think of was you.” He said softly. “You made a lot of good points on our walk. I did leave you that day on the bus. And you’re right. You’re not the girl I fell in love with.”

You pulled away a little and looked at him curiously. All he gave you was a smile.

“You’re braver, smarter, stronger, and more badass than that girl ever thought she could be. And the girl I see today? The girl I see when I look into your eyes, I’m in love with her.”

“In love with me?” You smiled at his confession.

“Yes.” He confirmed.

“Was it the gelato?” You teased and he let out a laugh.

“It might’ve been.” He said before pulling you into a long awaited kiss. You pulled apart after a moment but stayed in each other’s embrace.

“I’m gonna change.” Peter mumbled. “I won’t abandon you this time. I don’t ever want to be far from you again.”

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @foreverxholland @writing-for-hours-on-end @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @averyfosterthoughts @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @celestial-skylines @mara-twins @iamaunicorn4704 @delicately-important-trash @spideygirl2003 @the-crazy-fanfictionist @maryjanee23 @spacebitch2 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @jillanaholland @unbelievableholland @rebekkah4766 @flixndchill @sovereignparker @wendaiii @thisisthebiplace @spideydobrik @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @itscaminow @thegr8kush @dnsa-parker @solarxmoonchild @where-art-thau-romeo @canyouevencauseicant @probablyparker @awkward-danish-girl

#peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fluff #spiderman: far from home #peter parker angst #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #spiderman #tom holland imagine #tom holland x yn

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ace-trainer-risu · 3 years

Note

okay, so i’ve been meaning to ask for awhile, but i’d love to hear your official rec/review for gideon the ninth. i know i will read it eventually, but i love hearing your thoughts and would love to know why you enjoy it so much :)

ohh YES! Thank you for asking me!! Gideon the Ninth is one of my absolute favorite books right now and I just finished re-reading it, so very happy to talk about it!

Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir is the first in a series, The Locked Tomb, originally meant to be a trilogy but recently announced to now be a quartet (!). It's...so hard to summarize, but here goes:

In the sci fi fantasy empire of the Nine Houses, ten thousand years after an apocalyptic event lead to the death and resurrection of everyone living in the system, necromancy is real and swordplay is a revered art. The Ninth House, a shitty little death cult on the edge of the system with an ancient secret at its heart, lead by the Reverend Daughter Harrowhark and unhappily inhabited by our heroine, Gideon Nav, is on the verge of falling into disrepair, when Harrow receives an invitation from the Emperor/God himself. God, by the way, is named John and has a Kiwi accent. Harrow and her cavalier primary (a sword fighter sworn to protect and serve a necromancer) are invited along with all the other heirs of the Nine Houses to come to Canaan House, a decaying mansion on the long abandoned planet of the First House, to try and rediscover the ancient secrets of the Lyctors, powerful immortal(ish) necromantic saints. There's a few problems, however. For one thing, Harrow doesn't have a proper cavalier and Gideon is Harrow's next best choice...mainly because Harrow and Gideon are the only people alive on the Ninth House under the age of 50 (and frankly, neither of them should be alive either). Unfortunately, Gideon and Harrow hate each other very much. For another thing, it seems like not all of the heirs of the Nine Houses are really who they say they are. Oh and also, someone seems to be trying to kill all of them before they can uncover Lyctorhood. So that complicates things.

Like this story truly has it all. It's a love story. It's a gothic romance. It's a space opera. It's a murder mystery. There is a simply ridiculous amount of skeletons. Also it's queer AF.

UGH its just so good in every single aspect! It's incredibly suspenseful, the writing is amazing, the characters are just! *chef's kiss!* There's so many good and interesting and compelling characters. It's extremely funny and there are a ton of meme references scattered throughout the books. You Will Experience the Full Range of Human Emotion. The setting is so cool and weird and richly described. Canaan House is extremely haunted and extremely gross and I would like to go there very much. There's so many mysteries which are so fascinating to unravel. It was fascinating to re-read the books because there were so many things on the first read through that were just like. Wha? but on the second read through made sense! But also plenty of things left over that are still...Wha???

But probably the best part in my opinion is the cavalier necromancer bond! One flesh one END! Basically, all of the main necromancer characters have/had an associated cavalier primary, and this is an incredibly central, important, profound plot point. It is not an exaggeration to say that just about everything in these novels centers on the cavalier necromancer bond, and it's so fucking good, it's like Pacific Rim Drift compatibility but with swords and dead bodies (altho. I guess to be fair Pacific Rim also has swords and dead bodies? Anyway GtN can do Drift compatibility and PR can do one flesh one end). And much like Pacific Rim, there's a lot of different kinds of cavalier/necro bonds shown, which is great, there's romantic relationships, a married couple, best friends, ride-or-die, fucked-up twins, siblings, a super weird uncle and nephew, unrequited love, enemies-to-lovers...like at its heart its about trust and lovE and also SWORDS and how is that not the best thing????

Plus, there's a ton of casual canonical queer rep and a haunted-house load of interesting female characters, and yet at the same time it's very casual about it, it's not a Thing it's just like, of course these characters are queer, of course all these female characters are (literally) kick ass, duh! Like it's by no means wrong for a story to be About being queer or About being a woman, but at the same GOD its so sexy how this story is first and foremost a gothic space opera...in which the majority of the characters happen to be queer and female. To be clear, its not like the queerness is sidelined. To the contrary, a significant amount of the plot revolves around a bizarre love polygon in which all the participants are girls. It's just that it's not about the fact that they're all the same gender, its more about the fact that at any given moment, at least one member of the love polygon is uhhhh dead. Undead? Not alive. (And before you worry - It could not in any fairness be considered Bury Your Gays because the dead very much refuse to stay buried in this series, also there's barely any explicitly straight characters and they very much do also die.)

I feel like I can't even do it proper justice, but it's just such a rollicking good time. When I read GtN for the first time it was like March of 2020 (which, yes, I did read this directly before lockdown in my state so that's very weird in my head) and I read it and thought, this is going to be one of the best books I have read all year. And I got to the end of the year and I was like Hrngngng oof ouch 2020 but also I was like Yup, I was right. Read Gideon the Ninth and read Harrow the Ninth because they will be some of the best books you have read all year.

(altho also there is much potential triggers so please read with caution)

anyway uhhh TLDR: Gideon the Ninth is the first volume in the Locked Tomb which is an extremely fun, suspenseful, twisty book series featuring all the big Ss: skeletons, swords, soup, sex pal, sapphic girls, some mysteries, smemes...in SPACE. Please read it, it is good.

#gideon the ninth #the locked tomb #veronica reads things #asks #disastershy #long post #things you didn't care to know about veronica #reading things

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amysteriousmessenger · 3 years

Note

Can I request headcanons for Saeyoung and Jaehee with a partner who proposes to them on Valentine’s Day? Along with all the aftermath, sfw or nsfw :D

I hope this is okay!! <3 this is the fifth Valentine’s day request! I’m SO sorry they’re belated

Proposing to Saeyoung Choi on Valentine’s Day Headcanons

You’d been planning to propose to Seven for a while. Well, as soon as you first saw Seven smile, you knew how hard you had fallen for him and you also knew that you never wanted to get back up. You decided you wanted to be the one to propose for a number of reasons, but the main one being that you wanted Seven to know how much he was wanted, that he wasn’t someone to settle for but a love to truly strive for. What you weren’t sure of, however, was how to go about the actual proposal.

You wanted it to be heartfelt, but not overly serious. Valentine’s was coming up so that seemed as good a time as any. You ordered a cupid’s outfit from online, complete with a set of bow and arrows and you set to work practicing your aim.

On the day of Valentine’s Day, you knew Seven was working in his office with his headphones on so wouldn’t hear you open the door. Wearing your Cupid’s costume, you creaked the door open and shot an arrow into the back of his head. Bemused, Seven came out to investigate, but didn’t see you hiding behind the door, leaving you free to shoot an arrow straight at his ass.

Obviously, he spotted you then, laughed at your outfit, and picked up the arrow in order to try and chase you with it. It took him a few seconds to realise that there was something on the arrow, and he froze. ‘A ring?’ he asked, fiddling it off the arrow as he began laughing again, but by the time he looked back at you, you had dropped to one knee. It was only then that this genius man realised what you were doing. You swallowed, suddenly very nervous: - ‘Saeyoung Choi, God707, a man more cherished than he could ever know, would you do me the honour of marrying me?’

He’s instantly crying, he doesn’t understand why you’d ever want to marry someone like him when he came from nothing and has nothing to offer you. ‘Why? Why would you want to marry someone like me?’ - ‘Because I love you, and you have a wonderful ass, did you see how that arrow ricocheted right off it? Who wouldn’t want to marry that. So, what do you say?’ ‘Y-yeah, I do want to marry you... but’ he started, through his tears, and your heart stopped thinking that you’d been rejected, ‘Now you point it out, how am I going to get my dummy thicc ass into the space suit?’

Absolutely no one thought that Seven was going to be the first one engaged out of the RFA chatroom, Zen had to log out and calm down for a few hours, rethinking his entire life that somehow he was still single but Saeyoung was actually getting married.

Of course, Seven also cried whilst asking Saeran to be his best man, and also asked him to design the flowers for the event, but they had to be flowers that looked good in zero gravity. Yoosung is a flower girl and no one can take that away from him.

Proposing to Jaehee Kang on Valentine’s Day Headcanons

You and Jaehee wanted to make the most of the weekend Valentine’s Day, and it just so happened that Zen was putting on a mini concert for the ‘lonely hearts’, just because he didn’t want to admit that he would have been too lonely himself on Valentine’s Day since he didn’t have any plans of his own. It was happening in a bar, and he was planning to sing a couple of love songs, take a few selfies with his fans and then have a few drinks with you and Jaehee (but he promised he wouldn’t stay too long because he didn’t want to be a third wheel).

The day had been fun, you’d made Jaehee breakfast in bed and let her have an or two extra sleep, seeing as she really needed it. You’d exchanged a few little gifts with each other and been to a cute, cosy little coffee shop. You could tell how excited she was for Zen’s concert later, and you were even more excited for your own extra special surprise that you had worked out with Zen beforehand.

Once it was time for the concert, you and Jaehee sat in your front-centre table, which Zen had especially reserved for the two of you. It was going so well, everyone was having fun and oh god, Zen had been given so many Valentine’s gifts and flowers. You and Jaehee shared a couple of drinks and a few snacks from the bar and almost too soon, the concert was starting to wind down. Jaehee could tell that you were nervous but you said you couldn’t tell her why, but you sent an under-the-table thumbs to to Zen, and he started singing the song you’d planned beforehand, which was ‘All I ask of You’ from The Phantom of the Opera. The other fans in the bar went wild, and you felt Jaehee’s hand squeeze your own just a little bit tighter, knowing that it was your song.

As the song was reaching it’s climax during the instrumental, you made eye contact with Zen and he sent you an encouraging nod, at which point you stood up, walked around to Jaehee’s side of the table and nervously nervously got down on one knee. You presented a ringbox. - ‘Jaehee, you’re the most wonderful and beautiful person I have ever had the blessing to know, I love you more than you could ever know. Would you marry me?’ ‘Oh my g- yes, I will!’ She was practically speechless as you placed the ring onto her finger as Zen picked up the vocals in the song once again, it felt like a scene straight out of a movie. Jaehee was absolutely beaming, wiping small tears from the corners of her eyes as she planted a kiss onto your cheek.

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger x reader #mystic messenger self insert #mystic messenger reader insert #saeyoung choi x reader #saeyoung choi #jaehee kang x reader #jaehee kang #mystic messenger headcanons #mystic messenger hcs

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dorki-c · 3 years

Text

Fuck him up (if he hurts you)

Characters: Dabi, Fem.(Reader), Toga, Mr. Compress, Giran

Relationship: Dabi and (Reader)

A/N: Hey! I’m finally done with this one! Whoop! Whoop! It took a little while but I’m glad its done because to be honest...I really enjoyed writing this, but, I have other things that require my attention. Also! Happy belated bday Dabi!

As always, PLEASE REBLOG AND LIKE! (ALSO COME JOIN MY VALENTINES EVENT, ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS CLICK HERE!)

TW: Threatening, Swearing and Cheating

Does anybody know the stages of getting over your cheating significant other?

It all starts out with denial- how bittersweet that filthy fucking word is-, although it doesn’t last long, when once you managed to eat at least five tubs of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream whilst watching the last show of some shitty soap opera, the next stage comes to bite your ass, anger- also known as throwing or burning your exe’s belongings that they left; however, I prefer burning it (they won’t be able to sell it if they come back).

Once those first two (rather tough) stages fly pass, this third one was like hitting the jackpot for me, but probably not for you, as the mental gamble caused lots of sexually frustrated people to bargain- to play the dice, you shall, but even gamblers don’t use the ‘third time is the charm’ as its utter bullshit- and then--!

OH GOD, HERE COMES FIVE MORE TUBS OF BEN & JERRY’S ICECREAM! THIS ONE IS A REAL KICKER! SOMEBODY HELP ME! THE LIVING ROOM IS FUCKING FLOODING WITH DEPRESSION- Yup, that was you five tubs of ice cream ago, maybe some chocolate might help…

At last, when the cleaning crew arrived, and you managed to accept- with the sunshine glowing down on your skin after four long stages of shit- with the fresh thought of buying a couple dresses that you saw on sale from that one adorable itty bitty corner shop.

But I’m not like that.

And here’s why in (you guessed it) 5 stages.

------------------------------------------

1. Discovery.

Rolling their shoulders backwards, a blanket fell backwards as a tall silhouette ghosted from the bedroom door that they left open.

When the bathroom light blinked to life, (y/n) faintly heard the screeching of the door shut on itself. Though, she knew her beloved boyfriend had to go to ‘work’, what she didn’t know was who made his phone ping at 7:15 in the morning.

Scooting over to the opposite side of the bed, blankets stuck to sweat-ridden skin as they coiled around her legs similarly to a snake and ensnared them to stay stuck and stationary. The plush pillows tried to lull her back to sleep. However, (y/n) wasn’t having any of it.

Reaching out to grab Dabi’s phone- even if he didn’t give you permission- the time was as you predicted, though the contents of his notifications bleeping up was something you didn’t predict. The background of his lock screen was something to behold as it was a picture of your concentrated form doodling in a sketchbook whilst a pale white cup stood beside two fresh slices of cake.

Shakily revealing the messaging app, there was around four or five unknown contacts, all listed under the people’s numbers.

Though one of them caught your eye.

Opening the chatroom, your free hand clutched the blankets.

Dabi is going to regret making you break the way you did that morning.

(He has no choice in doing so.)

--------------------------------------------------------------

2. Kicking the asshole out.

“Toga…? C-can you come over, please.”

The TV presented the small-town news that had little to no intervention though that didn’t mould the female into a wish less mess where a gentle hand went to work and smooth out ensnared knots. “Are you okay now, (y/n)-chan?” You never heard Toga murmur before, but that’s the perks of being alive now.

(Y/n) released the trembling bubble of air out of her lungs and into the atmosphere, readying herself for that front door to open. Shaking your head to respond to Toga’s question, a small huff was released out of the other female’s chest.

The blonde female knew why you still weren’t okay.

Whoever walks through that door will have a profound effect on whatever will happen to (y/n).

However, with the slight nudge of her friend’s hand pinching the side of her sensitive waist, a yelp was released in surprise whereas the blonde villain giggled at the reaction. “Your so easy to scare, (y/n)-chan!” Toga loved to tease you, but in this time frame it wasn’t to make you feel uncomfortable but rather the opposite.

She wanted to make your thunder stricken heart rumble with rage in an unknown and bizarre way- but to also remind that you weren’t alone-, though, you had this bubbly and extra crazy best friend who brought over too many sweets for your stomach to handle alongside the annoyance that you hadn’t noticed Dabi’s strange and desolate nature.

As Toga picked up another opened bag of candy (I think they were ‘eclairs’), unwrapped the golden covering as the crinkling plastic fumbled like sparks dancing across the fingers in a tantalising rhythm. In an attempt to grab the bag, Toga was about to throw it across the room so you could get off her because, and I quote “You’re killing me with your weight!”, how lovely that compliment is for somebody who’s blood is like a glacier falling apart after a storm chipped the exterior and revealed the icy truth underneath.

And may God cover their eyes, as that chilling sharp edge at the tip of the glacier crumbles under Mother Nature’s will (so does the female when the familiar screech of the door revealing whoever is walking through reaches her ears).

Sluggishly dripping back onto the couch where at least three of the seven stocked up with fluff blankets- wrapped around drooped shoulders- had slid onto the floor, Toga made an effort to pick them up and stuff (piling) them next to the drowsy (y/n).

“I’m home, dollface!” A familiar voice hollered.

When both of the female’s heard that voice, there was no turning back to the past.

(Y/n) glanced to a duffel bag next to the couch, then glanced towards the teenager’s sinking rage as the blonde’s lips started to slip into a scowl.

A step almost turned into two, however, was held back by the puffy eyed female. “C-c-can I handle this…please?” They whimpered.

Toga really needs to gain a resistance to (y/n) cuteness when she’s sad.

Grabbing the duffel bag, two slippers shuffled (real smooth) around the couch to enter the hallway that led to the front door. Exactly where Dabi was about to take off his shoes.

“I recommend not taking your shoes off.” The pair of blue eyes looked up in confusion. “What? So, I can’t take off my own shoes in our home?” It sounded like a tease, but what if there was another meaning behind it?

Dabi, however, knew that familiar look of sharp-edges eyes where the glossy swirling of a singular emotion led to- and his teasing didn’t make the situation, he’s found himself in, any more light-hearted.

“This isn’t your home anymore,” Hissed (y/n), where (the fuck) did she get that attitude from?

“Who told you that you can throw me o—” The heavy duffel bag clutched in (y/n) clammy hands thud against Dabi’s chest, where his feet slid against the front door’s matt- his legs trembled at the impact the bag had on his chest- along with the rising cough that caught up to him after fleeing from a hero.

“Nobody—told me what to do.” Another sniff ensued, “But, I figured out the truth.” An eyebrow twitched upwards in anticipation as his hand bawled against his hip.

“Then tell me, what’s this big ass ‘truth’ you figured out?” Retorted the male with turquoise eyes watching her head droop towards the ground to hide something.

Raising it after a momentary pause, she glowered “You’re a bloody cheater, Touya.” When tears stained the red canvas again.

“Oh, so this is what it’s about…” Voice as nonchalant as shallow murky river water, “Do you even realise why I did it?” Rolling his eyes, two fingers wormed their way towards a special ring on her left hand before it hit the ground.

“I don’t want to know why.”

----------------------------------

3. Jealousy

It was sudden, quick, and loud how Toga came into your (lonely) apartment.

Bang went the door against the wall and crash went the multiple shoes from the shoe cabinet as they thudded against the floor.

“(Y/N)-CHAN! I HAVE GOOD NEWS!” Her shout was louder than the moans you would usually make when it was a pleasurable night with your (new) ex, however you shouldn’t dwell on past relationships.

Only moving your eyes slightly from the book gripped tightly in your hands, Toga sauntered over holding a suspiciously large bag, this only led one ping-pong ball bouncing back to another ping-pong ball within the crevasses of your mind.

Placing a ripped piece of paper in the book, it snapped shut, “Who did you kill?” questioned (y/n)- knowing that when Toga finds something, she will resort to violence, no matter the cost-, however the sweet smile presented as a defence for whatever action she committed was enough dull your concern.

“Not telling ya!” Then getting a knife out- wait, where did that even come from-, Toga stabbed into the black plastic bag and tore it open with many- I mean tons- of clothes sliding out of the bag and becoming a miniature avalanche in the small space that is your living room.

“…H-how?” Sputtered (y/n), Toga replied: “Big sis’ Mags let us borrow some of her clothes!”

(Y/n) can only imagine how Toga managed to convince Magne to let her borrow some clothes off her, and by clothes, (y/n) could only assume its short skirts and dresses.

“But!” Added Toga, “we have to wait for Mr.C to pop up!”

Great, even Mr. Compress knows about your breakup with Dabi.

“Fine.”

Sitting pretty on a kitchen chair, a small brush lightly dabbed a small hint of colour against the rooftop of your eyes. “Why are we doing this, again?” Murmured the relaxed female as a small dress laid boringly over the torso where it edged closely to showing the backside of her thighs.

Chuckling in response to her inquisitive comment, the villain grabbed liquid eyeliner, although it was smacked out of his hand and replaced with pencil eyeliner matched with a scowl from his subject.

“Liquid eyeliner is cursed, don’t get that shit near me.”

“My, my, even somebody as classy as I wouldn’t offensively smack such an object—”

Oh boy, here we go again.

“Shush, I could easily get Big Sis Magne to beat your ass if you use that tone with me, sir.”— “Oh heavens no! I think Magne would pick my side out of the two of us!”— “Oh really now?”— “I believe—”

Another door slammed open and in stormed Toga in a confident catwalk down the hallway just to profoundly exclaim; “NOPE! SHE’LL CHOOSE ME AS THE CHOSEN ONE!”

Cue the laughter.

Before the sun was ready to roll itself out of the closet, the patchwork villain made his way under the thick cover of darkness to a certain broker’s office.

Pushing it open to let the light of the office room scream in his eyes before he even had the chance to speak, the older male that greeted him, offered him a seat.

“Hey Dabi, what brings you here to my humble abode?” Giran spoke out as the glistening cup of coffee placed in front of the wanderer reflected the light into its murky brown ripples. “I need you to trace this number to its origin, and quick.” Anxiously sliding his phone to showcase your number, the broker twitched his brow upwards.

“First and foremost, where’s the cash?” A thick wad of yen slammed against the table.

“Happy now?”— “Very much so!” Scowling at Giran’s happy chirp, the broker worked his magic on the burner phone to effectively trace the number back to your location, where Dabi soon enough made his way towards the destination you were at.

He doesn’t know why he’s doing this…

Nor why he still keeps the ring…

However, he knows what he’s going to say next.

--------------------------------

4. Anger

Simmering and low crackles of something in the kitchen of your apartment awoke the female from her drunken slumber.

What was being made and why does it smell so familiar? The waft of the meal being created swarmed the first stimulant within the hungover mind of yours truly as the wavering warmth rustled around your legs in an unspoken persuasive whisper to stay in bed.

However, curiosity killed the cat and also brought it back.

Two feet tapped the floor in alerted silence.

Tiptoeing across the room, a hand clenched the side of the doorway when two eyes surfed the surroundings outside of her den.

The sizzling stopped, with a small snap of fire going out.

At the same time this happened, it was then when she figured out who was in her kitchen: Him.

Him, with his tall stance that could make for a ladder to climb on or him with his broad shoulders that look like they were bricks squished underneath his skin, where his paired raven hair familiarly spiked up.

“What are you doing here?” If it wasn’t for the delicious food he was making, then you would’ve killed him on sight. A lacklustre glance at the female, he uses one of her spatulas to move the bacon from the frying pan onto a plate with plump golden coloured scrambled eggs.

“You were drunk, I brought you home, and am now making your hangover breakfast.” Placing the plate next to your arm resting against the counter, with another glance in your direction, Dabi made a finishing blow in the words of: “Since you can’t cook for shit.”

Oh boy, he knows you too well to expect your immediate reaction: anger.

From the built-up rage that started to stack up from days of unrest (and being bloated because of the several tubs of Bens & Jerry’s ice cream), it all started to splutter out of control.

“Oh-- So now your fucking attacking me after the shit you put me through?”

“Why should you know?” (Y/n) turned sour at his comment, “’Why’ I should know?!”

From the nearest counter, there was an empty glass. You took advantage of the potential weapon held it up ready for it to slam against the ground.

“(Y/n) -- put the glass down.” Warned the patchwork male.

With the tips of her ears feeling ever so hot, it felt like the pressure escalating within her ears caused only for her protests to be heard even through the pause of silence.

“(Y/n).” A small twitch of one of his feet made (y/n) flinch backwards. “Com’ on, I know you don’t want to hurt me.” He took another step toward, her grip tightened on the glass cup.

“Do you even know why I’m here?”

“No,” Moving her hand higher, Dabi took another step forward, (Y/n) took another step back, “And I don’t want to kno—” Blubbering a bit of salvia as the female attempted to speak, though it was incoherently heard through squished cheeks.

“Listen, for fucks sake,” Electric blue eyes pierced into your soul like a spear, it’s quite hilarious: You once loved those blue eyes of his, you once worshipped the feeling of his eyes raking down your nude body before- as they took in the sight of pleasure squirming and tightening underneath those diligently flexible fingers-, but those days are over.

He can worship your goddamn forgiveness if he’s going to restrain you like this.

----------------------------------------

5. Forgiveness

“That’s what happened.”

Two legs of your own were crossed over each other like two birds of a feather.

“Are you being honest with me?”

His hand tapped the table as he sat across from you.

“Yes, I’m being honest.”

Breathing inwards and releasing a slow, practiced breath. She glanced at the male’s awaiting expression.

“Okay…”

Biting his ruined lip, the raven-haired male let out a breath of relief.

“Will you forgive me?”

She wishes she could.

“I’m not so sure yet…”

Dabi looked to the side to see (y/n) with both of his eyes.

“But, I’ll give you one last try.”

Taglist:

@glitterfreezed, @in-this-house-we-stan-izuku, @haredabi, @orenjineki

JOIN THE VALENTINES WRITING EVENT HERE!

#tw: swearing #TW: Cheating #Fem! reader #dabi mha #dabi x reader #dabi imagine #dabixyou #Dabi lives rent free in my mind #mild yandere! reader #dorki talks like a dabi simp #dabi lives rent free in my mind #villain x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnhaxyou #mha #mha x reader

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