#anyway sorry this turned into a small essay. I liked your ask btw | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fawad-khan · 3 years

Text

professor ‘fuck me a lot’

A/N: so tom in that esquire interview and that instagram story did things to me ajhsuifhf so here we are! also this is my first professor tom fic hehe. beta read by the lovely @parkerpeter24 (title credit goes to her too XD)

Masterlist

Pairing- professor!tom holland x student!reader

Warning- smut, thigh riding,swearing, unprotected sex, teacher-student relationship(?), wrap it before you tap it! (all characters are 18+ btw)

Word Count- 3.4k+

Summary- you catch tom in a compromising position.

Thomas Stanley Holland, the new professor was the talk of every single student in the college. He was young, and very smart and knew his subjects well. He had a way with his teaching that made everyone’s ear perk up and pay attention to whatever he was teaching. Everyone was impressed by how he taught from a different perspective, in the sense that he not just gave a lecture, he explained in such a way that each person could visualise and convert the picture into their own words.

He was also very undeniably attractive. He had attractive features. His chocolate brown dolomite eyes, soft looking lush brown hair, pink kissable lips that so many girls (and even some guys) dreamt of kissing over and over again, desirable cheekbones and the suits he wore for his lectures made him look so fine, drawing attention and he somehow managed to pull you towards him as well.

As if his looks weren’t enough, it was also his voice, and how it sounded like music to your ears. He certainly had a way with his words. Many times you had yourself what would it be like to have that same voice whisper dirty things in your ears. You remember the day he stepped into the classroom on his first day of teaching you.

"Hello everyone, my name is Tom Holland, and I will be teaching you literature from today onwards. I can see lots of bright faces here," he gazed around the room as he continued, "now, before we get started I would like to get everyone's names and just ask some questions in general, that is what we will do first. So why don't we start with," he took a list from his desk and called out a few names, who stood up and introduced themselves.

"(Y/n) (l/n)?" You heard your name being called out. You got up and politely introduced yourself.

"I actually have a very good report on you here, miss (y/n). Are you that interested in literature? And please sit down if you want." He beamed, but you continued to stand anyway, admiring him already.

"Well, actually I have really been fond of reading lots of books since childhood and always had a hobby of writing small stories and poems and such for the school part so I guess that is how I realized I wanted to delve further into the subject."

"Well I must say, that's very impressive. And do you have any plans after you complete and procure your bachelor's degree?"

"Actually yeah, I have dreamt of being a writer so I would very much like to succeed in that. Otherwise, being a college professor is another option, where I'd love to teach about various literature works."

"That is very good, miss (y/n). Well that is all for now and I'm looking forward to teaching all of you, you all seem like very talented students."

"Thank you, professor Holland." Everyone chorused. He picked up a book from his desk and began to teach. He certainly knew his subject very well, for unlike the previous professor who had managed to bore all of you last year, you found yourself paying attention to every single word he said.

Of course, as time passed, there were more and more girls who always discussed him, innocent things at first like how great a teacher he was and something like he was the cutest professor they ever had. It gradually escalated to how hot he was and how many girls were willing to do him in his classroom and so on.

You would rather die than admit, but you did have a crush on your teacher. A major, at that one. It wasn’t that often that you got a teacher like him, anyway. Maybe that was a small reason why you tried harder in his class and excelled more. He was also often very pleased with your work and had grown to favour you, seeing that you indeed had a lot of potential and admired how you always submitted everything on time and how you were always punctual and overall how dedicated you were in his classes. You had gradually grown to become one of his favourite students.

----

It was a Thursday evening, the clock ticking 7pm as you finally finished your due work of the week. As usual, you gathered your sheets and checked it again to make sure there were no errors. Once you were satisfied, you stapled them and put them neatly in a plastic folder and made your way to Tom’s room for submission. He had made a rule that students could either email their respective essays and papers or physically submit it to him either in the classroom or personally in his room in case someone wanted a little guidance as well.

Checking your appearance to make sure there were no stains or anything like that on you or your dress, you took your file and made your way towards his room for submission. You gave a soft knock and waited for him to open the door. No response. You knocked again. Again, no response of opening the door. Although, you could hear his voice, so he probably was on the phone or in a meeting or something.

You turned the knob of the door and quietly, swung the door open and entered the room. Closing the door behind you, you turned right to walk towards his table and saw something you never thought you'd see.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, sir!" You exclaimed, making him startled and jump in his seat.

He was in a webinar session. With no pants on. He was only in a formal shirt and underwear and a pair of socks. You could very clearly see his thighs which were naked in your sight. The thighs you had only dreamt of riding in your dreams.

He hastingly said something about some technical issues and that he would have to leave and left the webinar and walked across the room to his closet to quickly get some pants. He grabbed the first pair he could see and before he could put it on, your brain decided to blurt out something you wouldn't have dared to ever say to your professor.

"Don't put them on!" You quickly covered your mouth with both hands, your file dropping on the floor. Your whole face went red as soon as those words left your mouth, your knees shaking with nervousness.

He stood in his place, stunned. He could not believe the words that just came out of your mouth.

“What- what did you just say?”

“I -uh” you stammered, covering your face again and taking a deep breath. He walked towards you and took your hand and held it, his other hand holding your chin and making you look up into his eyes.

“Say it again, darling. There is no harm.” he said in a calm and husky voice that made you feel giddy and weak at the knees. “Go on, now.” his fingers gently pushed a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.

You looked into his eyes. Your heart was beating at a very furious pace. A fire was surging in you as his fingers had touched your skin.

“I said, don’t put them on.” you whispered slowly, your voice lingering in his ears. He smirked and brought his lips closer to your ear and whispered, “and why is it so?” his voice lulled you to him, his one hand resting on your cheek and his other hand lowering to your waist, pulling you closer to him. “don’t be shy, say what you have to say.”

"It's because," you paused, a new wave of confidence flowing through you. This was now or never. "It's because I want to ride them."

"Hmm is that so?" He hummed, lazily nibbling your earlobe, making you hot and bothered. He stepped back and sat on his chair and held out his hand. You took it and he pulled you on his lap and held you tight by the waist with one hand. His other hand cupped your jawline and pulled your face closer so your lips were only millimetres apart from touching.

"Then be a good girl and ride me" with that he wasted no time and crashed his lips on yours, you reciprocating the kiss immediately. Your eyes fluttered shut, so did his. The feeling of his soft, smooth lips felt more amazing than you had fantasized in your dreams. You tilted your head to grant him more access.

He bit your lips gently, making you moan into his mouth. Your fingers flew to pull his soft hair strands, messing them up as he deepened the kiss and you gently grinded your hips against his.

You were the first to pull away from the kiss, gasping slightly for air to breathe. His hair was slightly messed up, he was out of breath and both of you had flushed faces. The sexual tension that was subtle before was more thick and more prominent.

"I better lock the door, huh? Don't want anyone to walk in on us?" You asked, looking at him. He nodded in response as you got up and went to lock the latch on his door. Now no one would interrupt the two of you.

"Ride me, darling. Be a good girl for me." The raspy voice made you feel wet as you repositioned yourself so now you were sitting on his left thigh, with his thigh pressed against your clothed pussy, making you let out a moan.

You pressed your clothed pussy and began to rock your hips up and down, feeling a sense of pleasure jolting in you. As you increased your pace, you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter. You held his shoulders for support as you grinded faster, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling of his thigh.

“Oh my, fuckkk” you moaned out, arching your back as grinded even faster, feeling that you wouldn’t last very long. Tom meanwhile was watching you, feeling his pants getting a little tight at the sight of you riding his thigh. He couldn’t help but let out a groan as he watched you ride your high. With time, he was attracted to you and always imagined what you would be like in bed. He had always fantasised but never thought he would be here in this situation.

“You’re doing great, darling ohhh” he groaned out, closing his eyes and leaning his head back as his hands held you firmly by the waist.

“God I’m gonna cum!” you moaned out, holding his shoulders tight for support as you felt yourself releasing, soaking heavily through your panties and shorts. Your movement became slower as you rode out your high, stopping a few seconds later, panting and sweating heavily. You opened your eyes to look at him all flustered and lips parted.

"Woah" was what came out of his mouth. He gently held you and placed you on his right thigh and the both of you could see a shiny wet spot where you had come just a few seconds ago. He looked back at you and smirked, making you go red.

"I don't normally do this with my students, you must know that."

"Oh that's, great I guess."

"Would you mind if I did what I wanted to do to a student whom I happen to be attracted to?" He whispered huskily, lips dancing dangerously over yours.

"And what would that be? Care to elaborate, sir?" You asked, looking into his eyes again.

"Oh, you'll find out soon enough, darling." With that he kissed you, this time with more heat and passion as though he was holding all his desires as he inserted his tongue into the kiss, exploring your mouth. You kissed him with equal amount of passion and lust, running your hands in his hair.

His lips left yours and pressed kisses on your jawline and neck, sucking your skin gently till he found your sweet spot and sucked a hickey there.

"Careful there sir, don't want people to see that." You gasped out, head thrown back.

"Say my name, dear. Wanna hear it from your pretty lips." He mumbled against your neck.

"Tom!" you whimpered, making him groan as he went back up to kiss you again on your lips. One hand went down to unbutton his shirt and touched his amazingly toned chest. Your fingers danced and touched every part of his chest, every touch sending tingles down Tom's spine, making him bite your lip gently.

He cupped your right thigh and squeezed it, wrapping it around his waist loosely. He held you by the waist firmly and picked you up and placed you gently on his desk, not breaking the kiss for even a second.

He pulled away from the kiss and looked into your eyes again. His orbs were dark with lust.

"Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?" He said huskily, his hand slowly lowering down to your waist and slipping under the hem of your top, making contact with your skin. His touch ignited a fire in you. His fingers drew circles on your curves, sending you tingles of pleasure.

"Don't…..stop…." You trailed off, closing your eyes again, enjoying the feeling of him touching you.

His hands played with the hem of your top before taking it off and stepping back for a moment, looking at you. You were already a mess, your hair strands sticking out wildly, sitting on his desk, looking at him desiringly.

“You are so gorgeous, did you know?”

“Thanks.” you covered your face with your hands. He stepped forward and removed your hands gently, looking at you. He pressed kisses on your neck and collarbone, his hand trailing down to your shorts, unbuttoning and unzipping them. Slowly, he pulled them down to the floor, leaving you only in your bra and panties.

He continued to kiss you on your chest, unhooking your bra in an instant, exposing your breasts. He took one of your breasts in one hand massaging it gently, taking the nipple in his mouth and sucking on it. His other hand went down to your panties, fingers touching your clothed cunt which was very soaked and he teased you through the material, eliciting a moan from you. Smirking, he hooked his fingers at the hem of your panties, inserting them inside to come in contact with your pussy.

He inserted a finger inside your wet folds, pumping in and out at a slow speed. His mouth switched to suck on your other breast as he increased his speed of thrust. You were by now a moaning mess, moaning his name out again and again while pulling at his curls. You were now very much turned on and very horny, craving him more and more. He inserted a second finger, thrusting faster, making you cum a second time.

He took his mouth away from your nipple with a pop sound and came up to meet your lips again. He finally took out his fingers out of your now swollen clit and pulled away from you, licking them clean, never breaking eye contact with you.

“You taste so delicious, dear.” he groaned out, making you want him more than ever now. You pulled him towards you by the collar and began unbuttoning his coat and shirt, running your hands over his toned abs, enjoying the feeling. He stepped closer, pressing his clothed hard-on against your soaked and clothed pussy, making you groan in pleasure. You couldn’t wait anymore. You needed him now.

“Tom…...please….” you groaned out, making him smirk.

“Please what? Use your words, darling.”

“Please….I need you now.” you groaned as you felt his hard-on press against you even more, making you buck your hips up and down.

“Gladly.” he threw his hanging coat and shirt off his body on the floor, pulling his underwear down to the floor, now completely naked in front of you. He stood in front of you, looking heavenly with his body glistening with sweat and his hair a complete mess. His cock was hard and the tip was flush pink with a little precum leaking. You took off your bra and panties and threw them across the room while he spread the precum and pumped his cock. He stepped forward and pressed a lazy kiss on your lips, aligning his cock just outside your entrance.

“Ready, love?”

“Yes” with that he entered you slowly, thrusting in and out at a slow pace, stretching you out so that you could get used to his size. Given how wet you already were, it was easy for him to move. His cock filled you up perfectly and you felt pleasure jolt through your body as you moaned continuously.

“Go faster.” you breathed out, him obeying gladly as he increased his pace, gripping your sides tight. His hips slapped against yours, a knot forming in your stomach as he hit that spot inside you again and again. He was moaning out loud with you, going faster with each thrust. One palm was on the desk to help steady himself. He pressed his lips against yours to kiss you sloppily, both of you moaning into each other’s mouths. You dug your nails on his muscles and his back, leaving crescent red marks, making him pound into you even harder.

You could feel your high approaching yet again and from the look on Tom’s face, it seemed like he wouldn’t last long before he came too. His finger rubbed your clit, bringing you closer to your orgasm.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“Fuck, I haven’t got a condom, oh my-”

“It’s ok, come inside me.” you breathed out.

“Are you sure? I really don’t want to risk it like this.” he asked, looking at you as if to ask if you were sure about this.

“I’m on the pill. Besides, my period was a week ago.”

“Oh, alright. Ohh!” his cock was beginning to twitch as you came undone around him, letting out a cry of pleasure. He grunted out loud as he reached his high, his cum spilling inside you. His thrusts became sloppier and slower and stopped moving a few moments later, his cock still buried inside you.

You clenched around him, not wanting to let go of the feeling of him beside you. Both of you were sweating and panting heavily, you holding him to steady yourself. He reluctantly pulled out of you, his cum mixed with yours flowing out slowly. He smirked at the sight and took out a cloth he always kept in his drawer to clean you up. Wow, talk about a sexy and caring professor.

“How you feelin’?” he asked, pressing the cloth against your core after wetting it slightly,

“Amazing.” you said, making him smile. After cleaning you up, he gave you a lazy kiss and picked up his and your clothes and handed them to you. You dressed in silence and watched him do the same.

“Hey, so uh, I wanted to tell you. Um, I don’t normally do this with any student of mine. Nor have I ever been attracted to any student. You are truly an exception.”

“Thanks, it means a lot.” you smiled. “And if it helps, I’ve never been this attracted to a teacher before. You are amazing too.” he blushed at that, making you giggle

“Well I better get going.” you said, getting off his desk. You picked up your file from the floor and handed it to him, then took a piece of paper and wrote something on it and handed that as well.

“Here's my submission, and my number. If you wanna maybe text sometime?”

“Sure, I’d love that sweetheart. Maybe we can meet up for a coffee later this week?”

“I’d like that.” you smiled and made your way to unlock the door. Just as you were about to open the door, he called you out, making you turn around and look at him.

“Hey, uh is it ok if we keep this thing a secret for a while? For the both of us? I don’t want you to face unnecessary backlash from anyone because of me.”

“Yes, it’s ok, Tom.”

“Ah, professor in the classroom.” he steps closer to whisper in your ear, “Tom when we are alone, together.”, making you go red.

“Noted, professor.” you winked and exited his room, your heart skipping a beat, silly smiles on both of your faces.

You were looking forward to your possible relationship development with him and excited to see where it goes, as did he with you.

The end

lemme know what you thought🙈

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4dtk · 3 years

Text

based on a lil discussion with me and @moonboohoo btw this is a little ooc since sukuna is a cat lol. enjoy!

[yuji is typing...]

oh my godddd you're ordering food? i want food too wtf

anyway. i hear u about your problem. why not just ask the first person you see when you get back home?

[(y/n) is typing...]

you want me to ask my cat??????

[yuji is typing...]

oh no not the cat, that feline is the devil himself im sure

the person delivering your food, ask them!!! maybe they'd be willing to give you a chance

[(y/n) is typing...]

hey!!!! :( dont be mean to sukuna :((

your maine coon curls up against you as you flop down on the couch with phone in hand, the other switching on the television with not much thought. your hand naturally strokes the cat's fur, jumping channels from one to the next in boredom as you wait for the delivery.

sukuna's purring carry on even when the doorbell is rung, accepting the food with a smile and careful hands. when you don't return, however, the cat perks up in curiosity, seeing the familiar twirl of your hair around your fingers as you engage in a conversation with the person at your door.

"so... is tomorrow okay?" you ask, tired of waiting for the perfect partner to come and sweep you off your feet. the other goes to answer, but sukuna interrupts before they can, hissing with the swishing of his bushy tail. it's as if he was a human himself, staring down at the delivery person despite the massive height difference.

"ah, s..sorry," you rush to place the food down, picking up the majestic cat into your arms to cradle him, "my cat's pretty aggressive to strangers."

"we could always reschedule it?" they say, shrugging their shoulders, "doesn't look like your cat wants me in the house if i were to come over tomorrow."

you smile apologetically, "'m sorry again."

they wave a hand, both in goodbye and dismissal of your apology for such a trivial thing.

the cat descends from your arms gracefully, walking off like he hadn't just cost you a future partner. as sukuna prances off, you roll your eyes at his dramatics, reaching for the food before finally settling down in front of the television again. at least now you had a purpose of going channel surfing.

it wasn't a very productive day, clocking out at an early 11pm to get ready for tomorrow. scrolling through social media was your favourite pastime, slotting in a bit of 'me' time before succumbing to sleep with sukuna snuggled up against your side.

the next morning wasn't merciful; with its bright rays shining through the window and the annoying construction going on from across the street, you could almost feel your annoyance levels rising before you got the morning routine.

"she wanted to invite them into the house? thank god i swooped in before they could agree. what right do they have to hang with (y/n)?"

what's worse is there was murmuring just at the foot of your bed, the pacing of their footsteps deemed too loud by your groggy, grumpy self.

wait.

"who's there?!" your shout catches the attention of the male, hand pointing at the owner of the noisy-ass footsteps with fear.

his messy pink hair was enough to catch your attention, but the tattoos littered across his arms and face was enough to make you gasp. you keep your mouth shut when he looks you over with red eyes, meeting yours with a tilt of his head. it's a sukuna habit, even when he's a human.

"who... are you?"

"seriously?" he asks unimpressed, crossing his arms over his exposed chest.

"sukuna!" you jolt in surprise at your missing cat, "sukuna?"

there's genuine concern and confusion when you repeat his name for the third time, coming to terms that he might really be in front of you.

"s...ukuna?" you whisper in caution, inching towards him as he keeps his eyebrow raised at your clueless state. tracing your hand across his carefully drawn tattoos was the first thing you did before moving on to his unkempt pink hair and mouth, where he still possessed his canine teeth.

he recoils as part of instinct, an uncharacteristic blush appearing on his face.

you overlook his behaviour but instead groan, falling back into the bed behind you in panic from the situation you've just encountered. your head comes up to gaze at the other, frustrated that he hasn't gone away after slapping your face, blinking your eyes or even falling off the bed.

"fuck. so you're real then."

"tch, then what am i? am i not matter, a material that constitutes the observable universe and, together with energy, forms the basis of all objective phenomena?"

you blow a raspberry, "did you get that from my science notes? god, whatever, let's get you some clothes."

luckily, with your wide array of oversized shirts, you were able to dress him decently. despite your confusion, you still were very interested to know how he came to be in your small apartment. with a skilled hand, you brew some coffee for the both of you, handing him a steaming hot cup after a few minutes.

"i change every night," sukuna says nonchalantly, immediately spitting out the bitter drink in repulsion.

he makes a disgusted face, “what the fuck is this?”

you deadpan, "really? all over my floor?"

getting up, your hands reach for the paper towels to clean up the mess that your cat-turned-human made, cringing at the way the paper towel turns brown with the immediate soak-up.

“but this is the first time i’ve struggled to change back. i’m not sure how i do it normally, but jeez, drinking your goddamn coffee makes me wish i was a cat again.”

with each passing minute, he gets on your nerves and by now, he’s shoved the drink back to you. standing up, he stretches his muscles like how he usually does in the mornings, allowing for every part of his toned body to show itself.

there goes the annoyance...

"well, i can't say i'm not attracted either..." you mutter to yourself, gulping down the extra cup before placing them in the sink. the laptop you frequent makes its way onto your lap not so long later, bringing up a essay due in the next week. you decided to start early this time and made sure to pace yourself, trying to rule out the last minute rushes you always settled for.

an arm encircles around your waist, taking you by surprise when you let out a squeak. sukuna is nuzzling himself into your arm while you try to frantically delete the out-of-topic sentence that was making its way onto the word doc.

"what are you doing?"

"morning routine," he simply says, laying his tongue on you without any warning.

"oh god, sukuna, no!" you groan, pushing him away from his tight grip on you like he usually does when his body is propped against your chest. you've woken up too many times, struggling to breathe because of his weight.

he retreats reluctantly, really wishing he was a cat again as he grunts at your behaviour.

"have it your way," sukuna mumbles, his naturally grumpy self amplified by your rejection. you thought back to the times your maine coon normally sat beside you quietly, basking in the way your fingers typed on the keyboard.

what could be any different? plus, you'd have a reciprocation of your head pats.

there's a tug on the other's wrist, "you can lay. just no- no licking, okay?"

you almost scoff at the sukuna rolls his eyes, but his actions betray him anyways because he's laid down beside you, curling into your side as he places his head into your stomach.

the desktop's illumination shines brighter than the morning's rays, hypnotising sukuna into a slumber as you play with his hair.

you wouldn't have noticed the male if he hadn't introduced himself, but his brash personality matched your cat too closely, knowing you were the only one he'd show affection to despite the constant hissing and glares he sent to your friends.

a gentle grasp of his hand snaps you out of your thoughts, bringing back memories of the way he'll lay his paw on you, even during the first time where you met him in the animal shelter.

sukuna stays peaceful throughout his sleep, pink hair slowly becoming messier the more he cuddled into your person. he was content now, at least, as you read over the essay to correct any mistakes.

it lulls him in and out of consciousness, stuck between wanting to hear your tender voice and relishing being embraced in his sleep.

either way, he was positive he wanted to spend the rest of his cat (or human) life with you.

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dodo-begone · 3 years

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ALRIGHTY! LOYAL HERE COMING IN WITH THE CIRCUS HAHAHA

Btw, I’m like 90% sure that I fell asleep while writing so it just stops. Like, there’s no ending/summary/whatever word I’m looking for but can’t think of at the moment and my bird is currently chewing on my phone case oh my god can she please stop—

__________________

I believe the concept of yanderes ft. a isekai-d reader has been mentioned by Shepard and her anons, tho it’s been mainly for Origins SMP. So, I come to you with ideas for the Dream SMP because that’s all I’m familiar with HAHAH—

Also, I apologize in advance because this thing is borderline an essay with how long it is. I’m so sorry—

For example *cue dramatic lighting and a cheesy flashback monologue thingie* oh my god I think I’m losing it, I’m so tired

Y/n and their younger sibling, Frisk, had just finished up another press conference regarding Monsters being back on the surface. All seems to be going well until the ground beneath their feet vanishes and they fall unconscious a few moments later. When they awaken, they notice they’re surrounded by humans—wait they aren’t all humans, what the fuck, since when are there hybrids? They knew everyone from the underground—by name, no less—and had never heard of any currently living hybrids. Only of ones from before the war. Besides, Monsters have been on the surface for a month at most, so there is no way for... oh boy, their head is spinning.

After some very...tense...introductions (“Hi, I never saw you guys Underground, nor have I heard of you, no offense. So, uh, which monsters are you guys related to?” “OI, I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT TUBBO IS NOT A MONSTER!”) they come to the realization that y/n is most definitely not from this world, or even this universe. Y/n’s adamant refusal to fight the “real monsters” that roam this land (“I did not spend countless timelines weeks putting my life on the line to befriend every monster, break the barrier that trapped them Underground, and defend them against my own god forsaken race just to turn my back on them.”) was a pretty big sign, after all. That, along with species of monsters that the SMP members have never heard of and how y/n talked about Souls as if they were a tangible thing.

It’s a rocky start before any sort of friendship is formed: y/n, wanting to be cautious, (and also not having Sans there to CHECK for them) decides to ask everyone what their LV is. It’s risky, and they had no way to prove if anyone is (or isn’t) telling the truth, but it was worth a shot. “Our levels?” A small goat hybrid asked, his head slightly tilting to the side. Everyone assumes that y/n is talking about enchantment levels. “I’m at 26! Ranboo, you’re at 30, right?” “I’m at 37 now, actually.” “Well, I’M at 58. Clearly I’m the superior one here. A real big man, a very manly man, aren’t I?” And a few others pipe in. Color drains from y/n’s face and they take a few steps back, hands shaking as their eyes dart between each person in the room and the exit. ‘How many lives have they each taken to make their LOVE so high? Why do they seem so proud of it?’ Yeah... that was an interesting experience.

- even though they have been reassured multiple times that the monsters of this world are nothing like the ones from their home, y/n still refuses to kill a single one, as I had mentioned earlier. They also refuse to kill animals. It takes a couple tries at explaining LV or LOVE—Level Of ViolencE—along with EXP—EXecution Points—but eventually everyone is on the same page

- Y/n is hesitant to bring out their SOUL when asked. First off, though they’re now friends with those from the Underground, they can’t help but be reminded of every spear, knife, bone, petal, gaster blaster, and fireball that has been aimed at them with the intent to kill whenever their SOUL was drawn into an encounter back then. Second of all, showing your SOUL is something you do with those you trust with your life—after all, you’re literally putting your lifeline out on display when you do so. There are so many different ways that the SMP members can see it

- Perhaps a monster appears

- Eggpire or Dream attack

- Someone forces y/n into an encounter because everyone is too curious to just let this opportunity slip by

- When y/n discovers that the people of this land have more than one life, they’re confused. There is no way that all of these people have SOULS of Determination, and there’d definitely be some issues if people kept rewinding time to their last save point. Besides, only one Determination SOUL—the strongest one—should be able to respawn. Then again, they only know what Frisk had explained to them. They were never able to see the save stars that Frisk would interact with in the different sections of the Underground. So they only have so much to go off of.

- Battle for them is completely different. Despite being in a different world, the mechanics from their world still apply. They can FIGHT, ACT, use an ITEM or show MERCY.

- They use Frisk’s tactic and flirt their way out of a fight or two. They never understood why Frisk did it until now... ‘I mean, I...wow. That was actually effective.’ They’re impressed.

- Oh no, maybe that wasn’t the best idea...they might have some yanderes after them bc of it...

- They probably have accidentally called Philza ‘Asgore’ and Tubbo ‘Asriel’ because both hybrids remind her of the two males from her world. Similar personalities AND Tubbo is a goat hybrid. The poor child is going to be so confused

- If Tubbo’s a yandere oh boy it’s going to be so easy for him. Y/n will probably be constantly at his side and telling him stories about the first fallen child and how they were adopted by the royal family, who are goat monsters! And just explaining the history of the underground and how important the goat family is. Talks about Asriel a lot as well. Probably makes him butterscotch cinnamon pie and tries to recreate golden flower tea to share with him as well. Or, they do that and he’s not yandere and it’s just wholesome.

- If we follow the headcanons that some fans have made, perhaps Frisk (and/or y/n) gave up half of their SOUL to give to either (or both) Chara or Asriel so they’d have another chance at life

- Not only does y/n refuse to kill, which leaves them vulnerable, they also only have half a SOUL, which means they’re incredibly weak. Someone needs to protect them, someone needs to keep them safe, someone needs to—

- Y/n is incredibly agile thanks to all the battles they’ve faced Underground. With their SOUL always out in the open during an encounter and the fact that they refuse to harm anyone, it’s required. I’m imagining them moving like a dancer, using jumps and spins to help them avoid any weapons swung at them.

- This is gonna be annoying for any yandere that wishes to lock y/n up. Even if they won’t physically hurt someone, they WILL put up a fight and make it as hard as they possibly can to be dragged into isolation or imprisonment

- When it comes to who goes yandere, I believe what color of SOUL y/n has (their personality, in summary) would play a big role. Here’s a few of my ideas, feel free to move people around or add to it, I’m really tired and can’t think of many characters LOL

- Red (determination): Wilbur, Technoblade

- Orange (bravery): Technoblade, Dream, Tommy

- Yellow (justice): Sam, Technoblade

- Green (kindness): the kids of the server, Fundy, and Ghostbur

- Cyan (patience): Ranboo, Ghostbur, Karl

- Dark blue (integrity): Tubbo, Philza, Sam

- Purple (perseverance): Dream—this man would love to see how long it would take for your perseverance to run out. I wouldn’t be surprised if your perseverance is the only reason he’s interested.

__________________

From what I saw of the end of what I wrote, it is DEFINITELY cut short. At least I mentioned every SOUL type lolol.

Also, I found a whole other note that’s a continuation of this concept but for y/n being from another game what the hell was I doing—

Expect that to come in another ask once I eat dinner

Sorry i took so long to answer!! I kept getting distracted!

That stuff is so pog man!!!! Puffy might be called “Toriel” once in a while because mom energy and she sheep,,, close to goat!

Gosh all the flirting will bring in so many yanderes or make ppl like “yo wtf??” And there’s a very small amount that are inbetween.

OKAY BUT WITH THE MONSTER STUFF ON THE DSMP- they’d keep the monsters in their house. They’d give them food and everything. Some def become very friendly and will defend. Haha giant spider go prrrrrr

I’d write more but there is so much amazing stuff I don’t think I could add to some of them anyways!!! Plus my mind is just racing other places rn haha

#ask #loyal anon #tw: yandere #rambling with dodo #c: tubbo #c: wilbur #c: techno #c: dream #c: tommy #c: ranboo #c: ghostbur #c: karl #c: philza #c: sam

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claudiasjeancregg · 3 years

Note

I hope this helps with the stress at least just a little bit <3 and I do understand wanting to write but not being able to, so if you want, write as much as you want with (specially 12!). So. Here we go! 14, 13, 12, 10, 1!

hey ariel thank you so much this literally made my entire day, i wrote a fucking essay so here goes.

1. favorite episode

EVIDENCE OF THINGS NOT SEEN, institutional memory, the supremes, drought conditions, holy night, the inauguration episodes, the midterms, noël... all of them. just. ALL OF THEM

10. something you wish had happened

oh my god SO MANY THINGS!!! cj/toby kissing in the 7.21 scene would have saved my entire soul, or really just a kiss at any point. i just wanted them to ADDRESS THE CHEMISTRY IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?? just confirmation that they dated at one point, or hooked up occasionally... god. ANYTHING! more canon specific, i really wanted a scene of donna in therapy or talking to josh about the ptsd / trauma she undoubtedly faced after gaza. when they F I N A L L Y got together, i wish they had more of a conversation about why she quit! because she HAD GOOD REASON to do it, and i wish had talked about how he had treated her after gaza. also, seeing how cj and toby had dealt with rosslyn, and more conversations about cj getting the COS role over josh and how he forgave her for that. just. MORE FOUND FAMILY CONTENT GODDAMNIT i could watch entire episodes of the senior staff + donna just hanging out, i love them to death. LAST ONE I PROMISE- CJ HAVING FEMALE FRIENDSHIPS. or friendships, period. god, i would have died for some amy + cj content swapping stories and making sarcastic jokes, cj helping amy to adapt to the white house after being in a different environment her whole career. CJ AND ANDY! i mean i ship the ot3 and cjandy to death, but even as friends! donna and cj!! the assistants all being friends! just. let these tired women have friends, that’s all i want.

12. headcanon(s)

yeah, i’ve... basically covered these BUT i always have more!!

first off- BISEXUAL CJ. bi cj!!!! it’s canon in my heart. this next one is less of a headcanon and more of a dream, but the ot3! cj/toby/andy is my favorite thing in the world and i love the three of them.

i think cj and josh were a lot closer than we see, and i have many feelings about them sort of being siblings.

also, hc that cj and toby ended up together after the show BECAUSE I NEED IT.

um, donna went to therapy! i feel like the show largely ignored the fact that she was the only one in the car who survived!! and so did josh, especially after he realized a part of the way he treated her after gaza was bc of his guilt about sending her there in the first place, and then donna almost dying.

okay let’s see... 50% of my brain is thinking of tww headcanons at any given moment so-

huck and molly grow up with auntie cj, who wishes she could be more of a parent but is so, so, so thankful for what she gets. i didn't really think cj wanted to get pregnant and have kids, especially with danny, but the show really threw that in there at the last moment lol. the reason for this is NOT “she’s too focused on her career,” trust me. i actually think cj’s mom died from breast cancer when she was pretty young, about 13. it’s heartbreaking, and miserable, and cj doesn’t smile for a month after. her dad was at a complete loss as to how to help her, since he was still dealing with it too. so for about half a year they co-existed in the same house, barely speaking. cj’s passion for politics and journalism eventually led her to come out of her shell more, about a year later, but she didn’t come back to the joyful person she used to be until college. she’s deathly afraid of passing the cancer gene onto her kids, which is why in my brain, the ot3 always had plans for kids but andy was going to get pregnant. (i talk about cj’s thoughts on actual canon andy’s pregnancy so much in my fic, so i should probably shut up now.) also i really think cj works herself to the bone after becoming COS, especially after toby leaves. he was the only thing keeping her from self-destructing, making her sleep and eat and remember to function. i can’t get over allison janney’s acting, the way you FEEL cj’s exhaustion. she has... no self- preservational instincts when it comes to doing her job as well as she can, and that really hurts her mental health, and like. SANITY. charlie and margaret know this and this duo practically running the white house might be my favorite thing about season 7. also HOW DID THIS TURN INTO ONLY CJ HEADCANONS i have so many other ones!)

QUEER ELLIE BARTLET how could i forget? my random desire for ellie/mallory has no canon basis but i’m obsessed with them. tbh, i’m obsessed with all f/f west wing ships.

josh definitely has anxiety, that’s kind of canon. donna helps him manage it but after she leaves, his panic attacks become a lot more frequent and he forgets to take care of himself. also, i think cj has anxiety too.

WAIT WAIT WAIT IS THIS A PLACE FOR ME TO TALK ABOUT DONNA AND TOBY?!! aleena has a soapbox and she can’t stop, i’m sorry. okay so donna and toby are my favorite unlikely tww friendship, and i’m going to limit this to a few sentences but i will talk about this whenever anyone gives me an opportunity to. BASICALLY donna is the only person who doesn’t take any of toby’s bullshit, (who isn’t in love with him) and he underestimates her at first, yeah, but he is one of the first people to realize donna’s potential. and they have some very good, very small moments where he really sees her strength and she sees that he’s more than the stubborn grump he pretends to be.

i have so many headcanons about josh and toby, and cj and toby, and josh and donna, and cj and donna, and TOBY AND DONNA. josh teasing toby about cj. toby making fun of donna for being in love with josh because he says she’s too good for him but he loves josh like a brother despite what he says. HE SHOWS HER BABY PICTURES AND SHE GUSHES OVER THEM i don't make the rules!!!! anyways that’s NOT all of my headcanons, i just don't want to make you guys read any more lmao. thank you so much for indulging me, i would be thrilled to talk about more of these or to hear more of your headcanons! (this goes for anyone btw) THAT WAS SO LONG AHH.

13. character you wish you could be / aspire to be

cj cregg

14. on-screen crush

yeah, i’m a simple bisexual. cj cregg.

THAT WAS INSANELY LONG BUT SO FUN FOR ME, THANK YOU!!!

#aleena answers #tww #tww headcanons #tww ideas #the west wing #ariel tag #aleena rambles

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

Not Nineteen Forever (12) (Branjie/Scyvie/Ninex)- Ortega

a/n: hey friends! here’s chapter 12 of Not Nineteen Forever, i’m sorry it’s so late but i want to thank everyone who waited patiently and was so polite and encouraging while waiting. it really made me smile! remember i always love and am so grateful for sweet comments either on AQ, through reblog, or on my blog, so keep them coming bc they motivate me no end!! hope u all enjoy this chapter (p.s. finally accepted the ninex in this fic is not in any way background any more xo) xxxxxxx

trigger warning: alcohol n naughty texts xo

please note: this fic contains young adults often behaving in irresponsible/unadvisable ways with regards to alcohol, drugs and sex. if you are someone who feels as if they could be heavily influenced by fic and incorporate what happens in the plot into ur own life, pls steer clear!

summary: Brooke, Yvie and Nina are three flatmates who forged a friendship in their first year of university and picked up some other waifs and strays along the way. Now in their final year, there are feelings that need to be unravelled and confessions to be made whilst navigating drunk nights, hungover mornings, takeaways, group chats, library meetups, cafe gossiping, and the small matter of getting a degree.

last chapter: Monet and Nina continued to be adorable, Yvie and Scarlet continued to be cute, but Brooke wasn’t sure if she wanted the same for her and Vanessa.

this chapter: there’s library woes, a flat party, a lilac-haired, tattooed bombshell, and Yvie confides in Scarlet.

***

Scarlet let a long puff of air out of her cheeks and blinked at her laptop, bored. She’d been so eager for Uni to start back again, so excited to get back to the city and see her friends that she slightly forgot about the whole academic aspect of everything. Lectures had started that week and in between trying to force four different modules’ worth of information into her head she had caught up with Vanjie, chatting before, after and in between lectures when they could. It was interesting, Scarlet thought. Before Christmas she could never get her to shut up about Brooke and how things were going with her but ever since the holidays it seemed as if Brooke was a subject to be avoided. Scarlet knew something must have changed but she didn’t want to push Vanjie for information if she wasn’t ready to share it. They still seemed to be together, anyway, even if things seemed a little strained.

At least she could say that wasn’t the case for her and Yvie. After many long evening Skype sessions during the holidays, the pair of them had decided that they couldn’t bear to be apart a moment longer and so Scarlet had taken the six hour train to go and stay with her girlfriend at her family home for a few days. She had been a bag of nerves at the thought of meeting Yvie’s family, but her Mum had been lovely (and seemingly just relieved that her daughter had settled down), her Dad had been welcoming, if a little quiet (“He’s under strict instructions not to speak because every time he opens his mouth he embarrasses me”), and the brothers and sisters that were still at home and not out somewhere or back to uni themselves were kind and friendly. In the three days they spent together, Scarlet and Yvie went for cold, crisp walks along the beach, curled up on Yvie’s old battered leather sofa the family had had since she was small and watched Disney films, gone ice skating, and looked out over Yvie’s city on a rickety ferris wheel that had looked as if it would take one good sneeze to knock it down.

But all that movie-screen romance was behind her now, as the most romantic Scarlet had been with Yvie in the week since they’d been back at uni was a Tesco Finest £10 meal deal cooked in Yvie’s flat and then watched in front of the TV as a perfect accompaniment to Coronation Street. They were both busy and waiting for their academic life to slow down a little again. The same could be said for their whole friendship group, really. The whole gang hadn’t done anything all together since their Christmas dinner, and Scarlet was itching for a night out where she could get absolutely off her face and forget that she was working towards the degree that would define the rest of her life. Sighing again and feeling the words on her laptop merge into a big blur, Scarlet looked up at the big clock on the wall. Five o'clock. She turned to Akeria who was sat at the desk beside her. She and Silky had come to join her mid-study, the latter having been dragged into the library by her flatmate because she still hadn’t handed in an essay that had been due since before Christmas and Akeria was quite frankly concerned.

“Akeria,” Scarlet whispered, the other girl quickly finishing a sentence she was working on, turning away from her laptop towards Scarlet and pushing her reading glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I want a night out. This is shit.”

“This is what we signed up for, baby,” Akeria gave a small laugh and shrugged, turning back to her laptop. Akeria’s dissertation wasn’t due until May but she had already started writing it, which struck the fear of God into the majority of their friendship group and made them all feel like slackers. “This is uni. This is our fuckin’ degree, girl.”

“You’re really making me feel better,” Scarlet rolled her eyes, Akeria giving another laugh under her breath.

“Hey,” Silky said from her position at the desk across from them, her voice entirely at speaking-pitch and causing a few heads to turn their way. “What’re you hoes talkin’ about? I want in.”

“We’re bitching about you,” Akeria deadpanned, tapping away at her keyboard.

“Fuck off, Kiki.”

“I want a night out,” Scarlet hissed over to her as quietly as she could. “But Little Miss Law Degree wants to stay in the library from dusk til dawn every evening until she graduates.”

Scarlet’s face lit up as Silky bellowed a laugh so loud it caused the girl beside her to put a set of earphones in. Looking at Akeria and hoping she hadn’t been offended, she was relieved to see the other girl giving her a wry smile.

“This bitch can be so savage when she wants to be, Jesus. Ouch. No, I’m just sayin’! This was what we chose to do, so quit complaining,” Akeria rolled her eyes, leaned back in her chair and stretched. “That being said…I do think I’ve earned a night out.”

“Well me fuckin’ too, bitch!” Silky exclaimed incredulously, Scarlet laughing in spite of herself.

“How much have you written, Silk?” she asked, the girl opposite looking down at her laptop, clicking a few times, then looking back up to the girls in front of her.

“You know what…it don’t matter how many words I’ve done, it’s the level of mental energy I have needed to use in order to-”

“Silky, how many words,” Akeria demanded, fixing her with a stare that looked as if it could slice her in half.

“Ninety-four.”

“Jesus Christ on a crystal meth binge,” Akeria sighed, Scarlet letting out a splutter beside her. Silky looked at them both pleadingly.

“Hey, now don’t make me feel bad! We only been in here-”

“An hour and a quarter,” Akeria stared at her.

Silky threw her hands up. “Well I been doing readings an’ shit! Do you know how hard it is to get any articles that have the exact quote ‘Boris Johnston is a piece of dog shit’? Fuckin’ hard!”

“Why the hell are you looking for that?” Akeria blurted out, unable to keep herself from laughing. Scarlet was laughing so hard she thought she would pass out.

“Because, bitch! I want to use that exact wording in my essay but I need some academic shit to back me up.”

“Fuck me.”

“To be fair, that is the worst,” Scarlet shrugged, not wanting Silky to feel too demoralised. “Searching for three hours to find one reference that can back up one of your points. Like, why can’t you just make the point because you want to? You know? Why is your opinion only valid if it’s been previously thought up by a white man in a suit?"

"Very profound,” Silky nodded emphatically. “Anyway, this bitch needs to get her drink on. I’m going to ask the girls."

As she watched Silky pick up her phone, Scarlet was reminded to check her own. She’d deliberately sat on it and put it on flight mode in an attempt to force herself to do work. Now, she felt as if she could excuse a small break. Turning off flight mode, she watched as a small flood of notifications came through. There had been fifteen new group chat messages, Nina had tagged them all in a meme, and she had two messages from Yvie. She checked the latter first, wondering if she would ever get tired of the feeling of her heart soaring like a balloon every time she saw, heard or spoke Yvie’s name.

Y: if i told u i was considering buying a set of faux-leather underwear would that be weird or a turn-on

Y: also that lasagne is even better on the second day u need to have some of it when ur round

S: Sorry this took me so long!!!!!! I turned my phone on flight mode in an attempt to get some work done

S: No such luck

S: Leather look underwear is a yes from me but i’m inclined to ask for pics first xoxoxoxoxo

S: Also yes i want lasagne

S: That’s not a euphemism btw i actually really do want some lasagne

Y: 😈

As Scarlet gave a soft laugh to herself, she checked what had been going on on the group chat since she’d been studying. She wondered what exciting plans could have been made, or what drama could have happened, or if anyone had any exciting or interesting news.

Okay Then: oh my god

Kim Kardashian-West: ??????

Okay Then: has anyone seen the state of Simon Cowell’s face

Scarlet gave a colossal roll of her eyes. She should have known that, at times, the groupchat could become one massive shitpost.

Kim Kardashian-West: No??? What’s he done to it?? Has he been in a crash?

Okay Then: he might as fucking well have been

What followed was a picture of what seemed to be a man whose face had been partially melted with a blowtorch, until Scarlet looked closer and realised that it was indeed the TV talent show judge.

mose: Jesus Fucking Christ what’s he done to himself

Scarlet’s bitch: that’s frightening

Okay Then: RIGHT???

Scarlet’s bitch: that’s what i see in the corner of my room when i have sleep paralysis

Kim Kardashian-West: That is TRULY the stuff of nightmares!!!!

Brooke’s Ford Transit Vanjie: Fucking hell Plastique don’t fucking frighten us like that!!!

mose: He must surely see that he looks like shit? Like how could you not?

Okay Then: how can he see anything when his eyebrows are now entirely obscuring his eyes

Kim Kardashian-West: I am actually quite frightened guys

At this point, Scarlet caught up to the current conversation.

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: AS TERRIFYING AS SIMON COWELL’S FACE IS

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: CAN WE TALK BUSINESS FOR A SECOND?

Kim Kardashian-West: Of course!

mose: I’m all business

Brooke’s Ford Transit Vanjie: Sure you are baby xxxxxxx

Scarlet’s Bitch: that is fucking vile keep that shit off the groupchat u big gays

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: YA FAV BITCHES ARE IN THE LIBRARY AND WE ARE GAGGING FOR A NIGHT OUT

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: WE AIN’T HAD ONE IN AGES

Okay Then: yaaaaaaaaaas bitches let’s do it

Okay Then: thursday night fever

Kim Kardashian-West: Well Monet invited me to this flat party she’s hosting tonight

Kim Kardashian-West: I could ask her if you guys could come too?

Brooke’s Ford Transit Vanjie: Omg yes I’m down!

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: YES BITCH FLAT PARTY!!!!

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: AND IF SHE SAYS NO JUST SAY SHE AIN’T GETTIN ANY PUSS FOR THE FORESEEABLE FUTURE

Kim Kardashian-West: SILKY!!!!!!!! THAT IS DISGUSTING!!!

Yvie’s Bitch: We were all thinking it xoxo

Brooke’s Ford Transit Vanjie: AHAHAHAHAHA SILK

Okay Then: YES Scarlet

Kim Kardashian-West: You’re all horrible. And uninvited.

mose: Ninaaaaaa

Okay Then: Nina pls

Scarlet’s Bitch: fuck i’m not even sure i can do tonight ladies

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: YVIE DONT YOU DARE

Scarlet’s Bitch: i’ve got a 9am tomorrow and i want to get that first u know

mose: Yvieeee the last time we were all together was literally over a month ago

Scarlet pouted to herself, disappointed at the thought of Yvie being the only one not out. Suddenly, an idea began to form in her head. Biting back a smile, she took to her chat with Yvie.

S: Yvieeeee

Y: Scarleeeeet

S: Please come to the flat party :(((((((

S: I’ll do anything you want

Y: anything i want?

S: Yesssss

Y: that sounds like a challenge princess

Scarlet crossed her legs and felt herself squeezing her thighs together. Looking around at the rows of silent people, she turned her phone brightness down to make extra sure nobody could see her messages, just in case the conversation turned the way Scarlet thought it was about to.

S: Well it depends on what you want me to do x

Y: wellllll

Y: i’ve been wondering if u can take a strap like a good girl

Scarlet felt briefly as if she’d been shocked by a defibrillator. Yvie always seemed to go from 0 to 100 real fucking quick, and Scarlet couldn’t help but love it.

S: You know I could baby

Y: i know you could, you’re such a good girl

Y: so how about if i come to this party i get to watch u bounce on my dick until u cum all over it

Scarlet could feel her face growing red. She and Yvie had messaged like this before, when they had been at home and miles away from each other and alone and very much not-in-a-public-place, but this was so fucking different.

S: Christ Yves I’m in the library!!!!

Y: shut up u started all this!!

S: Yeah I kinda did

Y: deliberately getting me to tell u what i want to do to u later when ur sitting in public in a fucking silent building

Y: jesus fucking christ Scarlet that’s so hot

Scarlet felt an urgent pulse of heat between her legs and she squirmed in her seat.

S: Where are you just now?

Y: i’m in bed

Y: touching myself at the thought of u sitting absolutely soaking wet and being able to do fuck all about it

S: So you’re coming to the party baby?

Y: how about

Y: if u can get to the flat before i cum i’ll fuck u into the mattress and i’ll come to this party or whatever

Scarlet nearly jammed her fingers in her laptop in her haste to get it shut, wrenched her charger out of its socket so hard it almost broke, and muttered a near-breathless goodbye to a confused Akeria and Silky all in the space of about twenty seconds as she struggled into her coat and sped out into the stairwell.

Five hours later Scarlet had managed to fit a lot in. She’d hurried round to Yvie’s to find her in bed in the black lace underwear she knew drove Scarlet crazy, and they’d fucked twice (fast, rough and passionate then sweet, tender and gentle) before Scarlet had reluctantly dragged herself out of Yvie’s bed to head back to her own flat and get ready for the party. Nobody seemed to know what the dress code was, least of all Nina who had sent about nine different outfit options to the group chat for opinions, so Scarlet settled on a tight black bandage dress that stopped at her calves, with trainers to dress it down a bit. She’d hurriedly munched down a bowl of pasta a la whatever-was-left-in-the-fridge, then set off across town to meet the girls at the edge of the park, where they had decided they would all meet then walk together to Monet’s flat.

Scarlet heard her friends before she saw them, Vanjie’s distinctive laugh ricocheting off trees and mixing with Yvie’s Bond-villan one letting Scarlet know she was heading in the right direction. Finally reaching the group, Scarlet gave them all a hug in turn and took in each of their outfits. It was still icy and cold, so most of them had opted for trainers over heels- save for Plastique, who always wore them for any night out and Vanjie, who was wearing chunky heeled boots. Much of their clothes clashed with the weather, though. Plastique and Akeria were in tight dresses, Brooke and Silky were in short skirts and tops. Vanjie had chosen some loose-fitting ripped denim jeans and a tiny bodysuit which left little to the imagination. Nina had gone for a light blue t-shirt dress and a chunky pair of trainers, her nerves palpable even in the group dynamic. Scarlet thought Yvie looked the best though in her burnt orange velvet skirt and tight black long-sleeved bodysuit, her unruly hair tamed and brushed into two huge bunches.

"You look nice, Nina!” Scarlet complimented her in an attempt to calm her down.

“Aww, Scarlet! Do I actually?” Nina smiled brightly, then cringed at herself. “Fuck! Why can’t I just take a fucking compliment like a goddamn normal person? I do this with Monet all the time!”

“Because you got a big-ass crush,” Silky shrugged. “It’s almost as big as Akeria’s ass. Not quite, though.”

“Shut up,” Akeria rolled her eyes and shoved her friend.

“Does it even count as a crush if you’re seeing the person in question?” Scarlet wondered out loud. Plastique shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

“Don’t know. Ask Brooke or Vanjie.”

The group exploded into laughter, something about it not quite meeting Brooke or Vanessa’s eyes. They were both standing close together, hands entwined, but Scarlet didn’t know. There seemed as if there was something off. Forced, even.

“Okay, let’s go, motherfuckers. I’m freezing my vagina off,” Vanjie said decisively, Nina moving first and making to lead the way.

“Right, a few things before we arrive,” Nina began speaking at a mile a minute before Scarlet could even compliment Yvie on her outfit. “Monet has somehow got it into her head that you guys are cool enough to be invited to this party. She doesn’t know the truth yet, so just try to act like a group of normal fucking human beings?”

“The truth? What the hell is that meant to mean?!” Brooke let out a laugh.

“That you’re all fucking weirdos! And she, for some reason, still likes me, so I am not having you all put that in jeopardy, capiche?” Nina snapped back, only half-joking.

“Jeez, thanks,” Akeria rolled her eyes, Nina instantly protesting.

“I’m joking! I’m joking. But not really. Like Silk, please try not to overdo it tonight?”

Silky raised her eyebrows and sucked her cheeks in. “I’m making no promises, girl.”

“Akeria, please don’t accidentally make out with anyone’s boyfriends?”

“Oh my God Nina! That happened ONCE!” Akeria cried out incredulously.

“And Vanjie, don’t-”

“Nina. We’re not going to embarrass you. Chill the fuck out,” Yvie rolled her eyes and squeezed the shoulder of the girl in front of her.

The girls all finally reached Monet’s old, red-brick building and her front door, and Nina pressed the buzzer nervously. There came a crackly screech of mayhem through the intercom which contained unintelligible speech, and then the girls were all quickly buzzed in. Scarlet looked to Yvie questioningly as she wondered if she’d heard any words, but she also appeared to be as clueless as she was. It didn’t seem to faze any of the other girls though, as Vanjie was already bounding up the stairs with Akeria as fast as her chunky heels could carry her. They didn’t have to walk far, as Monet’s flat was on the first floor. Vanjie moved to open the door first when it was suddenly wrenched open from the other side to reveal a tiny, skinny blonde girl with her hair curled and loose on her shoulders. Her pink dress was as tiny as she was, but regardless of her size she looked ready to fight.

“Who the fuck are you?” she addressed Akeria, barely acknowledging the others. “You here to sell us girl scout cookies, or an Avon catalogue, check our meter readings maybe?"

Just as Akeria looked as if she would instigate a full-scale fight, Nina poked her head out from behind Brooke’s tall frame. "Cracker, don’t be a dick!”

The girl’s face immediately relaxed into a wide, shameless smile. “Nina! Oh my God, you bitch, I never saw you! Come in, God!”

Akeria still bristling and Vanjie not too dissimilar, the girls all trooped into the flat which immediately struck Scarlet as something out of an American teen Netflix special. The hall was dark with the occasional string of fairy lights, and was packed full of people. Scarlet instinctively reached for Yvie’s hand in the crowd and got a squeeze back without even having to look at her. Nina and the girl, Cracker apparently, led them through to a huge bedroom which had obviously once been a living room but had been repurposed by a money-hungry landlord. The room was quieter but still had its fair share of people dotted about in amongst the Morrocan market wall-coverings, tiny elephant incense stick holders, and swathes of printed photos and posters that covered the walls like tiles. A huge bed sat to one side where Monet sat sprawled out with her shoes kicked off, chatting to a black girl with a huge afro that otherwise looked so identical to her Scarlet assumed they must be sisters. Cracker flung herself down on top of the mattress and joined them, gesturing vaguely to the girls.

“Neens!!” Monet suddenly squealed as she looked up, throwing her arms out as Nina launched herself half on the bed and half on top of her. Monet continued, muffled, as the rest of the girls awkwardly lingered. “I’m so happy you came, oh my God, this is so amazing!”

“I brought everyone too. Is that still okay? They can leave if not,” Nina instantly reeled off, Brooke bellowing out a laugh. Monet’s face lit up.

“Oh my God of course not! Brooke! Scarlet! Yvie!! Oh my God, come and hug me,” Monet beamed, her intoxication showing ever so slightly as Brooke graciously leaned down and hugged the other girl them got instantly pulled onto the bed. Monet gestured for everyone to come closer. “Guys! It’s so good to see you all, thanks so much for coming! There’s, like. Endless booze in the kitchen. Feel free to just drink us out of house and home.”

Silky’s face lit up and she immediately grabbed Akeria and Plastique, making to drag them through. “Vanj, you comin’?”

“Get me something? I'mma stay here with my girl,” Vanessa shouted back, giving a smile back to Brooke but finding the other girl looking down at her phone instead. Scarlet frowned involuntarily and then was suddenly distracted by a squeeze of her hand from Yvie (who still hadn’t let go).

“I’m going to go make sure Silky doesn’t give herself alcohol poisoning. You want me to bring you back a drink?” she offered, Scarlet unable to help the smile that spread across her face.

“You’re a sweetheart. Surprise me.”

“A pint glass of tequila it is,” Yvie deadpanned as she walked away, too quick for Scarlet’s hand that swatted at her in response. Scarlet tuned into the conversation that the girls were all having on the bed. It was big, but it was still a bed in a student flat, and so Brooke had her elbows resting on the mattress and her lower body on the floor and Scarlet had had to squeeze up to make room for Vanjie to sit beside her.

“She was guarding the place like fort fuckin’ knox,” Vanessa was saying, a playful side eye being cast to the blonde girl, who let out a laugh.

“You’re an animal,” Monet’s potential sister rolled her eyes. “A living guard dog. We should put a collar on you. One of those ones with spikes.”

“Nah. That’s only reserved for people who want to fuck me. Do you want to fuck me, Bob?” the girl asked easily, before taking a swig of the cider bottle she was holding. Monet hooted a laugh and the other girl didn’t even break her expression.

“I wouldn’t eat your pussy if it was made of chocolate fuckin’ fudge cake. Get the fuck out,” she retorted, Nina looking up at them all from her position on Monet’s tummy.

“Is that not that Lana Del Ray lyric? My pussy tastes like chocolate fudge cake…”

Scarlet let out a laugh that was more like a scream, the others on the bed doing much the same thing. Monet wiped her eyes and took in a deep breath.

“Oh my God, okay. For those of you that haven’t met before- this is Cracker and Bob. Two out of the three girls I have the blessing or curse of living with, I haven’t figured out yet,” she gestured to the two girls in turn and then turned to Scarlet. “And this is Scarlet, Vanjie and Brooke Lynn. They’re Nina’s friends, so they’re obviously amazing.”

“Nina could throw up on your bed and you’d say it was amazing,” Cracker looked pointedly at Monet. Monet shrugged and threw her arms around Nina.

“And what?"

"Nice to meet you guys. Are you two sisters?” Scarlet asked, curiosity getting the better of her as she pointed between Bob and Monet. Monet laughed and Bob rolled her eyes.

“Are you saying that all black people look the same?” Bob asked her with a piercing stare, Scarlet’s entire stomach dropping at the thought of having offended her.

“Oh my God, no! No no no, I just thought-”

“She’s kidding, Scarlet. Being a dick, as usual,” Monet cut off Scarlet’s frantic protests and immediately calming her down. “No, we’re not related. We just look spookily alike.”

“You fuckin’ wish you looked even a tenth as good as me. Hey, where the fuck is Monique?” Bob asked suddenly, both Cracker and Monet shrugging.

“Flatmate number four,” Monet quickly cut in to explain.

“Away making some chaotic cocktail, probably,” Cracker shrugged. Bob gave another roll of her eyes, then turned and smiled at Brooke, Scarlet and Vanessa.

“Nice to meet you anyway. Are you all flatmates too?” Bob asked politely, ignoring the position of the slit on her long skirt as she crossed her legs.

“Not us three exactly. Brooke lives with Nina and Yvie, that’s my girlfriend,” Scarlet explained, her stomach full of fizzy fireworks at being able to say that for real. “Vanj lives with Silky and Akeria over on Antigua Road.”

“They’re the best hoes in the world. They’re through in the other room getting drunk, but you’d love them,” Vanjie cut in. Cracker let out a laugh.

“Oh yeah, shit. Sorry I was so mean to you.”

Vanessa smiled easily, the free alcohol that the flatmates were providing clearly making up for any perceived slight. “Don’ worry about it, girl. We’d probably do the same if some hoes we didn’t know turned up at our party.”

“What about you, Scarlet?” Bob asked politely, instantly seeming far less intimidating.

“I’m over on the South Side. Kinda far out. I found this girl on SpareRooms to live with, but she’s a bit of a dick,” Scarlet explained awkwardly. Cracker leaned in, her eyes shining excitedly.

“What’s her name?”

“Fuck, I don’t want to say in case any of you are friends with her!” Scarlet laughed, but no protestations came. She lowered her voice as she continued. “It’s Ra'Jah? Ra'Jah O'Hara?”

“Oh, FUCK!” Bob cried out, holding onto Cracker for support as she almost fell off the bed. “I know who that is! She’s in my Econ tutorials! Oh my God, she’s an actual fucking moron. I had a group project with her once and she did literally nothing but talk about drugs and bitch about people on our course.”

As Scarlet was about to launch into how horrifically messy a flatmate she was, Yvie came back from the kitchen with two bottles of beer and a tall black girl with a shock of lilac hair swept up into a ponytail and a matching straight fringe. She was wearing a black pair of jeans and a tiny black cropped t shirt which showed off her many tattoos, and in her hand looked to be an elaborate mojito-style concoction.

“I made a friend!” she cried, before slumping herself down beside Vanjie, Scarlet growing ever more squashed up against the bedpost.

“Oh, the wanderer returns,” Cracker deadpanned. “What did you make?”

“Margarita mojito,” the girl shrugged, sipping her drink to punctuate her sentence. “It’s basically a mojito with a big-ass shot of tequila in it. Guys, this is Yvie! She’s Nina’s friend!”

“Oh, you’re Scarlet’s girlfriend!” Bob smiled at her in recognition, Yvie clambering into a tiny space on the middle of the bed, handing one of the beers to Scarlet, and casting her a look through narrowed eyes.

“What have you been saying about me, bitch?” Yvie smiled playfully, the look she was fixing her causing a sudden flash of heat to strike between Scarlet’s legs.

“All good things, baby,” Scarlet smiled innocently, Yvie relaxing and leaning back against Scarlet’s chest.

“This is Bob and Cracker. They’re my other flatmates. You’ve already met Monique, then?” Monet introduced the girls to Yvie.

“Yeah, we bonded over watching Akeria flirt with people. The bitch is a fucking mastermind. She walked into the kitchen and had a guy talking to her within, like, one minute.”

“Introduce me, introduce me!” Monique bounced on the mattress excitedly. Vanjie came dangerously close to falling off the bed and Monique quickly noticed, reaching a hand out to her and pulling her up with it. “Shit, sorry girl!”

Scarlet watched as Vanessa swept some hair out of her face and cast a quick appreciative glance to Monique’s toned arm. “Holy mother of Jesus, I gotta start goin’ to the gym.”

Monique let out a bark of a laugh. Cracker caught her other arm and held it steady, the tequila/rum combo threatening to fly out of its glass.

“Brooke, Scarlet and Vanjie, meet Monique.

Monique, this is Brooke, Scarlet and Vanjie,” Cracker pointed to each of them in turn, finishing with Vanjie who still seemed to be casting her eyes over Monique.

“Well, Vanessa. But these girls call me Vanjie. Or Vanj. You choose, really,” Vanjie explained to Monique, the girl’s ponytail swishing as she cocked her head.

“You ever get called baby?” she asked, feigning innocence. Scarlet couldn’t help her eyes shooting wide and her brain almost went into meltdown trying to register everyone’s expressions at once. Vanjie was laughing, but her face had flushed pink, clearly flattered. Cracker was screeching a laugh, Bob looked long-suffering. Nina and Monet were looking at each other urgently, and Brooke was properly looking at Vanessa with interest for the first time since they all sat down on the bed. Scarlet couldn’t see Yvie’s face, but she’d felt her tense up, and she couldn’t blame her.

“Yeah. By Brooke Lynn over there,” Vanessa finally said through her laughter, Monique not seeming fazed as she cast a glance to Brooke, who was smiling patiently but inwardly seething if the red tips of her ears were anything to go by.

“Oh, sorry girl! I didn’t know she was taken,” Monique laughed pleasantly.

“Yeah, we’re a thing,” Brooke opened her mouth, breaking her silence. Vanessa was smiling at her from across the bed, and Brooke met her eyes and smiled back.

“A thing?” Monique let out a short laugh, spilling a little of her drink. “A thing is, like, a noun. Not a relationship.”

“Technically a girlfriend is a noun too. Thing, place, person,” Nina piped up, presumably in an attempt to diffuse the increasingly awkward vibe.

“Are you a primary teacher, Nina?!” Cracker asked, clutching her chest in faux-surprise. Nina sighed.

“If I could reach a pillow, I’d thump you."

"Monet, you hearing this? Your girlfriend is practically chatting me up,” Cracker laughed, then stopped suddenly as her face became a mix of horrified and regretful, Bob giving her a not-so-subtle thump on the arm. In lieu of gauging Monet and Nina’s facial expressions, Scarlet whispered her thoughts to Yvie.

“When the hell are they actually going to become official? It’s been ages!” she hissed into her ear, Yvie craning her head round to reply.

“Nina would have to be on a cocktail mixer of cocaine, Es and alcohol to gain even half the confidence it would take her to ask Monet, so she’s waiting on Monet to do it for her. The thing is, I think Monet’s not as confident as we all like to think either. Maybe sometimes Nina’s panic can present itself as disinterest.”

“So Monet’s maybe waiting until she knows where she stands with her?” Scarlet nodded in realisation.

Yvie sipped her drink and took Scarlet’s hand, tracing round her fingers absent-mindedly. “I think so. I mean, we all know Nina’s absolutely ass-over-tit in love with her because we’re her friends, but she’s not going to let that show to Monet until she’s ready.”

Scarlet watched as Yvie played with a large turquoise ring on her finger. Her brow was furrowed as she thought about the situation, and Scarlet’s heart felt like an enormous water balloon- incredibly fragile and full and feeling as if it was about to burst. She thought back to Yvie’s words on Christmas dinner night, the ones she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since she’d said them.

Suddenly, she was pulled out of her thoughts by a screech from Vanjie, who was looking at Monique with enrapture as she told a story. Admittedly, most of the other girls were looking at her too, but Scarlet didn’t miss the sparkle in Vanjie’s eyes as she listened.

“And there it was, I swear by almighty God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit…a whole baggie of weed, in the bin, covered in Cracker’s vomit.”

It was an odd moment for Scarlet to tune into the story but judging by the roar the girls on the bed gave, it seemed to be over. Vanjie had doubled over laughing and was clinging to Monique’s arm for support, the girl in question smiling down at her as if her reaction was the only one that mattered. Scarlet frowned and leaned into Yvie once more.

“Hey. What the hell is the deal with Brooke and Vanjie?” she whispered, making sure to keep her voice extra low. She instantly felt Yvie tense up in her lap.

“What do you mean? They seem fine to me?” Yvie murmured back. Luckily for Scarlet, she knew that Yvie lied so rarely that it was easy to spot when she was telling one.

“You know something. What is it?” Scarlet hissed urgently in Yvie’s ear. Hearing her give a big sigh, Yvie shifted and then rose on the bed.

“Me and Scarlet are just getting another drink, save our seats,” Yvie announced to the circle, receiving a cheer from Nina.

“Enjoy your sex!” she cried after them, and Scarlet, confused, simply followed Yvie to another room. The hall was quieter now, but the same could not be said of the kitchen, where as they walked in they saw Silky, Akeria and Plastique ringleading a game of The Good, The Bad and The Ugly. Ignoring their friends, Yvie turned to Scarlet urgently, concern covering her face.

“Okay, Brooke told me this in confidence but you’re my girlfriend so I kind of can’t really keep anything from you, right?” she began, Scarlet nodding quickly and desperate to hear what Yvie knew. “But you CAN’T tell anyone about this, babe. Honestly, it needs to stay between us. Do you promise?”

“I promise,” Scarlet said instantly, her mind in overdrive. Yvie pulled a pained face for a moment, seemingly incredibly conflicted, and then looked to the floor.

“Brooke is having second thoughts about being with Vanjie.”

Scarlet’s face dropped. “What?!”

“Brooke told me that she felt everything was getting too intense, and that Vanj wanted more than Brooke felt she could give her. She’s sticking it out to see if it’s just a blip, but…yeah. Now you know why they’ve both been so weird,” Yvie explained, biting her lip and looking at Scarlet with concern.

Scarlet didn’t know what to think. It all made so much sense, the oddly distant vibes between them both, the strained atmosphere, Vanjie flirting with Monique. Suddenly, a thought occurred to Scarlet. “Does Vanessa know?”

Yvie rolled her eyes. “Yes absolutely, Scarlet, Vanjie is very happy staying with someone who isn’t even sure if she wants things to go further with her, Brooke’s told her everything!"

Scarlet’s mind seemed to fuse. "She needs to know.”

Yvie’s expression dropped. “Oh my fucking Christ, you literally just promised not to tell anyone.”

“Well I didn’t know what it was you were going to tell me! I mean shit, Yvie, imagine that was me and you and I was having second thoughts! Would you want to be kept in the dark?”

Yvie bit her lip and looked to the floor. Scarlet gave a snort. “Exactly, bitch. I’m going to go find her right now-”

“Scarlet, please,” Yvie stopped her quickly, reaching out and grabbing her hand. “Brooke would be fuckin’ raging at me. I told you this shit in confidence. I know it’s hard because you’re close with Vanjie, but can you please…I mean hold off at least. If she asks you about it then, fine. You can tell her. But don’t run through there just now.”

Scarlet’s head felt as if it was a mess. She tapped her foot against the linoleum floor. “Who’s she told?”

“Just me,” Yvie said sincerely, looking into Scarlet’s eyes. “Nina doesn’t know. It’s just us.”

Scarlet rolled her eyes. “Fine. But I’m pinning all the fucking blame on you if she finds out I know, you know that?”

Yvie nodded understandingly. Scarlet let out a big sigh. The silence between them hung heavy in the air, at odds with the party happening around them. Suddenly, Plastique tottered into their line of vision, her eyes glazed and drunk.

“Oh my God guys! I haven’t seen you like all night! Selfie!!” she cried, sticking her phone in the air. Scarlet felt herself smile weakly but luckily the photo seemed to be too blurry for anyone to notice. Plastique immediately walked off again.

“Okay bye, nice seeing you,” Yvie deadpanned after her. Scarlet pressed her lips together to stop a laugh escaping them. Yvie caught her eye and snorted, and Scarlet couldn’t help but let out the laugh she’d been holding in. The tension had been diffused by a drunk Plastique, and Scarlet was relieved. She ran her hand down Yvie’s arm and squeezed her hand.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I should’ve just kept the fucking secret,” Yvie sighed, lacing her fingers through Scarlet’s own. She smiled at Scarlet, showing the little gap in her teeth, and Scarlet felt her heart jump. “Hey, I kind of want to go get chips, cheese and gravy and then head back to the flat and watch the Scooby Doo movie. You down?”

Scarlet smiled. She was kind of over the party. She’d been so eager for a night out, but all she wanted right now was a night in with her girlfriend. “Sounds amazing. Let’s go.”

The two headed back through to the bedroom to grab their jackets and say goodbye to the rest of the girls. Notably absent from the room were Brooke and Vanessa, and Scarlet was about to mention this to Yvie when they walked back out into the hall and spotted a tall, blonde girl and a small brunette kissing furiously in a darker, quieter corner. As Yvie opened the front door, she turned to Scarlet.

“I feel like they won’t be far behind us. Brooke must have sorted her shit out, then.”

As Scarlet grabbed one last look at the two girls against the wall, she desperately hoped Yvie was right.

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my-arlington-academia · 5 years

Text

I'm super late and sorry for ruining the good mood after the awesome new sprites reveal! Note: some of this was written before the reveal and some after

(It turned out so long, longer than my school essays and I might've made some wording/formulation mistakes so sorry again.)

Hey so I kind of really have a deep hatred for drama but at the same time I want to talk about what ""happend"" recently because a big part of it seems a bit like BS to me.

(I'm on the SE developers' side btw so if I say something that might offend you I think it's best not to read)

Okay, basically there was some writing for the original chapter 7 "leaked" by a person who was on the team but left months ago and while it didn't seem like that big of a deal at first after hearing both sides of the story I have a bit of a clearer image. So what's written there is what chapter 7 was supposed to be like however it's clear now that the current chapter 7 will have nothing to do with this. Buuut there's a problem there, not going into the whole contract thing (yet) I'd like to say that it doesn't make sense from Cecile's side to call this JUST a fanfiction.

Normally it wouldn't be a problem but what's written there was at some point supposed to be canon, right? This writing is coming from someone who has an insider's perspective unlike us, "outsiders" who were never on the team and have no idea about how the plot is/was supposed to go. A fanfic is, may I quote, "fiction written by a fan of, and featuring characters from, a particular TV series, film, etc." Thus the whole contract thing doesn't matter in that statement since the person/people who wrote this aren't fans, they're people who were on the SE development team.

And so I read the thing (ngl, it was mainly because I was really curious and wanted to see what it was all about) and tbh I can understand Serena's annoyance towards it. I mean, it contains some info on the characters. Info we've never heard of before (and I'm not gonna talk about it just in case some people decided not to read it because I respect that) while most of those were just small glimpses into their personalities/hobbies/background and it didn't seem like there was anything plot heavy, or nothing that I've noticed is supposed to be important for later, it still doesn't change the fact that these informations are canon, right?

I suppose Serena must've read it at some point and approved the writing though that's just speculation on my part.

So long story short, what was posted isn't really a fanfic but more like the plot of an old chapter that got either delayed to a later chapter or like... completed deleted since they left the team and the layout of the chapter is now out to the public so I highly doubt Serena is gonna post something similar to this, or at least if she's still planning on making a Halloween chapter then maybe she'll change how the story was supposed to play out?

Tbh I feel like it would've been smarter to ask first if they can publish the copy of the chapter instead of making a big ruckus out of it. This could've been easily avoided but then again I don't know if they left the team on good terms, not that this part is any of my business though.

Anyway, so then we have the whole "she didn't give us a contract to sign" argument which is... uh, I mean, what did you expect?

SE development started back in 2015 correct? So it's been around 4 years and we're only on chapter 6. Why? Because making the game isn't their full time job and they made that clear multiple times in the past. Besides, correct me if I'm wrong, but 4 years ago wasn't Serena like in her late teens/early twenties or something? I know it might seem cheap to pull out the legendary "she was young" argument but tbh I'm in high school and never have I imagined or taken seriously the thought of making an indie game. If like, next month I decided to do it and found some people who are down for making some assets for the game then a legal contract would literally be the last thing I would think about.

Besides it's not like Serena has ever been secretive about the things she thought were necessary to tell the fandom, or at least I don't get the feeling that she has. Do y'all really imagine her being like "muhahaha! I'm not gonna make a contract with them so I can freely use their work!" ???

The thing with a contract is that it's not only good for the employees but also for the employer if the workers ever do something that they weren't supposed to (like now). And she's not planning on taking "legal" action anyway because like she said, nothing good will come out of it and she technically doesn't have a "right" to do so.

And let's just be realistic here for a second, okay? Like do you guys really think that they're earning a whole lot thanks to sweet elite? There's barely 18k accounts on the site and I'm pretty sure that most of those are doubles or triples in order to go through different routes. Also, we don't know how much of those accounts belong to active players on the game. There's many people out there who play like the first 2 chapters and never touch the game again because they'd rather watch a let's play or they dropped the game. And amongst the people who do play sweet elite regularly (as in, they log in everyday and play the new chapter when it's out) how many people is there who have ever paid for energy? The thing is that the game is still in it's early stages, there's not many chapters yet so it's easy to catch up quickly and tbh their energy system is pretty generous. You receive 5 points per day but you can also use coins to exchange them for energy (which is what most people do in order to catch up).

So point is, I'm pretty sure they don't gain a lot of money out of it and almost all of the work they do, they do it for free in their free time because they like making the game.

So I dunno, it might be pretty shitty of me and naive to think about it in this way but tbh I feel like it was kind of obnoxious of them to just, y'know. Leave because "there's no contract and we're not making any money out of this" then come back months later to post something that we weren't supposed to see and complain about the fact that their writing and sprites are getting used in chapter 6. Like?? I think it's quite clear that the team is planning on replacing all of the sprites and as for the writing what do you expect them to do? Go through every single chapter again and add words to each sentence, replace some words with synonyms and reformulate everything so it can't be considered your writing anymore? That's kinda dumb and a waste of time.

Could've they replaced all the old illustrations first and then posted the episode? Yes but how much time would it have taken? They'd have to make the new artists overwork and they don't have a way to pay them much all at once. Sweet Elite will be around 50 chapters and it's an episodic type of game in which assets get replaced and added as time goes on because if they did everything in one go then there would be almost no time to update the story.

I can't even pretend to understand because quite frankly I'm not an artist, but I CAN at least understand the feeling of wanting to be reconized for the things I do and for the work I put into things. Who wouldn't?

Plus, to be fair I don't think that there's any shame in wanting to be paid for a job but is making Sweet Elite a job? Not completely. Not yet at least. Right now it's more of a part time job/hobby and it's totally okay to quit when you don't feel like working on it anymore. However if the money and the compensation aspect of making it was so important then wouldn't it have been better to say "Sorry, but I refuse to work on this until I sign a contract" right off the bat rather than feeling like you're not appreciated enough and complain about it months later like a really salty potato chip?

Not making a contract, while being a mistake on Serena's part, she never tried to pretend it wasn't. In fact she affirms that she has made many errors and again, like I said earlier a contract is beneficial to both the employees AND the employer so had she been more careful it wouldn't have played out this way. We don't even know the circumstances and her point of view of that whole contract thing, maybe she just thought that it would be better to not make one in order to keep the workers free to leave in any given moment because she knew that she wouldn't be able to pay them enough?

I saw some people in the tags being like "look guys, this is why I don't support sweet elite anymore and why you shouldn't too!" Which is tbh a pretty simple minded way of looking at it. I guess we, as the pitiful hoomans we are, we're more inclined on taking the side of the "weakest" group which means the people who left the team because there was apparently some ""injustice"" but the more I look into it and the more it seems like it was a big misunderstanding.

Dulcet games is so new do you expect to get paid hundreds/thousands for an indie game with a small following in which even the "boss" isn't getting any/much money out of it? Oh, and there's also some being super vocal about leaving because "Cecile's art was the only thing keeping me from leaving" which... lmao. Take it in a humorous tone please but It's like a customer in Walmart saying that they won't come back again because the fancy red t-shirts from the clothing section are gone. Idk man. You can say whatever you want about the team behind SE but I still stand by the belief that it's a great game with good writing and progressive characters. And all the things Serena did so far seem like pretty logical courses of action especially in this situation or am I wrong? Is Serena secretly evil guys? Were we fooled all along.,.,,..,

(Sorry this post started out so serious and ended so stupid, I'm just unable of writing about really seriousssss topics. Serious with 5 Ss because it's so seriousssss. Also did you notice that this whole thing is obvious and dumb if you think about it for longer than 1 minute? The moment someone says they don't get paid for something everyone flips over but the true question is, did they have the means of paying you at that time? Everybody is so quick to jump on Serena's throat without thinking and it's kinda sad. We're so superficial, like if money is mentionned ONCE in a drama suddenly everyone ascends to their most sensitive state of bitterness. As far as we know Serena never forced anyone to stay on the team and it's no secret that she doesn't get much money ESPECIALLY for an indie game company. It doesn't seem like they didn't want to pay them but more like they couldn't afford to at that time and everything wasn't set up in place yet.)

#sweet elite #se #soooo loonnng #I'm pretty sure many will skip this because it's super long and useless drama #and actually you're right #please skip this if you don't care about the quote unquote drama #if you did read this though could you feel the sheer amount of pent up anger in this?#I tend to back away from conflict but this one is important to me #like why y'all always trying to take every single good thing down for one mistake?#so people aren't allowed to be human now?#I'm really opinionated about this so I'm kind of surprised at myself rn #because usually I'm a wuss like #confrontation?!?!#standing up for my beliefs?!#too stressful #too hard

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imaginethathaikyuu · 5 years

Note

Hi! Could I pls request a scenario for both Oikawa and Tsukishima helping/comforting their male s/o who is going through a hard time and just needs some love? Thanks!

we’re back to the scenarios boys. if you’ve sent a number from the drabble list - no worries! i’ll be saving those for a rainy day. btw, this had no need for pronouns or anything so it ended up being gender neutral!

tsukishima kei

Tsukishima walked into your room, worried when he found you lying face down on your bed. You hadn’t even greeted him at the door - when you texted him and asked him to come over, you told him to let himself in.

That was quite unlike you - usually, he couldn’t get you off of him from the second he walked in the door. He missed seeing your face light up when you open the door for him.

“Hey,” he whispered, walking right up to your bed. He put his hand on your back, thinking you may be asleep.

You gave a sad hum in response; he still couldn’t see your face, you had it tucked into the pillow you were cuddling into.

Tsukishima knelt down by your bed, his knees cracking on the way.

“What’s wrong?” He used the quietest voice he could, trying his best to keep the peaceful atmosphere.

You finally turned to look at him, and he’s glad what he feared wasn’t true; your face was dry. You hadn’t been crying. Tsukki gave you a small smile.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asked again.

You shook your head, making it obvious to Tsukishima that you didn’t want to talk about it yet.

“Can I lay with you?”

You nodded. Tsukki took his glasses off, setting them on your nightstand before he crawled in next to you, wrapping you up in his lanky limbs. You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling as he held you.

“Let’s take a nap,” he whispered. “When we wake up, I’ll help you figure out how to fix it.”

oikawa tooru

“Tooru, can we… can we take a break?”

Oikawa looked up at you from his textbook, sitting his pencil down, “we’ve just started, Y/N.”

“I know,” you said, rubbing your eyes. “Never mind, sorry, I just…”

Your voice trailed off as your focus shifted back to the university entrance essay you were working on. After staring at your blank page for nearly a minute - but what felt like ten - you felt yourself tearing up.

Your loud sigh is what tore Oikawa’s attention away from his own essay and back up to you and your teary eyes.

“Y/N, hey…”

You looked at his worried face, waiting for him to scold you for not doing your work.

“Come on, lets go get lunch. We can come back to this later - we’ve got a while to finish these, anyway.”

Your boyfriend stood and held his hand out to you, which you delightfully took, and on the way to the door you willed yourself to think about what you’d order for lunch rather than what the future holds.

got a request? send it in. i’ll write it.

#tsukishima kei #oikawa tooru #tsukishima kei x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #tsukki x reader #oikawa x reader #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #scenario #request #fluff

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swanandapirate · 6 years

Text

anonymous swan (1/1)

It was @captainwiley’s birthday a couple of days ago and to celebrate the joyful day the world gained such a wonderful and crazy person, I’ve written a fic. This is inspired by how @captainwiley and @artandteaandstuff got introduced to each other but with our lovely ship instead (the road is a bit bumpier because have you met Emma and Killian?) ♥

summary: A Google Docs AU where Emma and Killian both get asked to beta-read something of David’s and start anonymously bickering about every conceivable grammatical and lexical and any other feature of the English language in the Google Docs Comment section but what happens after David decides to intervene?

Ohhh intrigueeee.

rating: T for some swearing

~10,000 words

ff.net / ao3

Major love to @ofshipsandswans for listening to me ramble ♥

(Let’s pretend that once Docs assigns you an animal it stays the same. Sorry for the mistakes, btw. Selina is not only amazing but also my beta)

She sat sunken in the soft leather couch, tucked in a corner with a blanket hiding everything from the neck down. Soft music sounded through the room, drifting to every nook chasing away the quiet, the eerie feeling that occasionally lingered in an empty apartment. Emma placed her palm on her face, fingers sliding into her hair as she tiredly rubbed her eyes. It wasn’t even nine yet, school hadn’t been particularly demanding as her early morning class got canceled and she got to sleep in, and still, exhaustion seemed to follow her every move and step. It didn’t help that the days were getting shorter, daylight becoming scarcer, any sign of warmth vanishing into clouds of air.

As tempting as it might be, she wasn’t going to go to bed at nine pm on a Friday. She just couldn’t. That was not an option. She was twenty-one, not seventy-one, for crying out loud. Though she did fit the description with her warm blanket, mug of hot chocolate with a dash of cinnamon, and an episode of that soap opera her best friend and roomie Mary Margaret insisted on recording and that Emma secretly watched when she was alone in their apartment.

Mary Margaret was out on a date with Emma’s brother David, who basically had become a second roommate to Emma. She didn’t mind, however. She loved her brother dearly, ever since they met in middle school, they’d been two peas in a pod and after David’s mom—their mom— decided to adopt Emma, their bond only became stronger. Mary Margaret was thrown into the mix when Emma befriended her in high school and when she introduced them, it was—according to her brother and Mary Margaret, Emma was more skeptical about it all— love at first sight.

It was best that she stayed up until they returned. Emma knew Mary Margaret: dimmed lights and a shut bedroom door would lead to a discussion because she was concerned about Emma’s welfare and social life and so on. And if there was anything Emma could live without, it was the concerned mom speech. She already got her fair share of those from her actual mom, she didn’t need them from her sister-in-law as well.

The lock of the door clicked as the key was turned and Emma hastily grabbed the remote control to stop the episode. She threw the blanket off her and grabbed one of her books. When David and Mary Margaret walked in, slightly giggly and drunk on some expensive Italian wine, she seemed less the spitting image of a socially deprived person and more of that of an intellectual seeking diversion. Not that they would notice anyway, so focused on each other.

“Hey Ems,” her brother greeted her, wide smile on his face.

Oh, he was drunk. He absolutely never called her Ems.

“Hi, David.” Emma looked up, trying to keep herself from laughing. “Wow, it seemed like you two had a great night.”

“We did,” Mary Margaret replied. “Your brother is such a gentleman, Emma. He makes me swoon.” The way Mary Margaret stretched out the word made Emma cave, her laugh filling the apartment.

“Good that he does, Mary Margaret.” She put the book back down, wiping a tear caused by her moment of amusement away, before contently sighing. “Well, I am pretty tired so I’m going to turn in. Night, guys.”

“Night, Emma. We love you,” they said in sync. The alcohol clearly did not blur their supposed true love bond.

Emma snickered. “Love you too, lovebirds.”

The last thing she saw before she closed the door was her brother caressing Mary Margaret’s face while they lovingly gazed at each other and the last thing Emma thought before falling asleep was how she yearned for that kind of love as well.

-/-

“Morning,” David groaned as he emerged from his and Mary Margaret’s room, shutting the door quietly, most likely to grant his girlfriend a few additional moments of sleep.

Emma sipped her coffee with an amused smile while jumping off the stool next to their breakfast counter and grabbing an extra mug to provide David with a necessary kick of energy.

“Morning to you, too. How’s the hangover?”

David flashed her a grateful smile as he accepted Emma’s kind gesture and wrapped his hands around the warm mug.

“Bearable, actually. Mary Margaret forced me to chug something that seemed like a gallon of water so I’m sure that, once I properly wake up, I’ll be as fit as a fiddle again.”

“Good.” She wriggled back onto the chair and continued to munch on the Pop Tart she had chosen as breakfast. “I wasn’t looking forward to spending my Saturday with two grumpy zombies.”

Emma could see the effects of the coffee on David as his gaze became more open, more attentive and as the corners of his lips subtly began to rise.

“How is my lovely sister doing this morning, by the way,” he inquired after a moment, his cup almost empty already.

Narrowing her eyes, Emma took a sip again, watching David over the rim of her mug and trying to figure out why it suddenly seemed as if he was attempting to coax her into doing something she would not like. She knew that tone, had heard it far too often over the years.

After clearing her mouth, she decided to go for the direct approach. It was far too early to beat around the bush. “What do you want and/or need?” She asked, eyebrows shooting upwards.

“You remember that dissertation I’m writing to get my degree?”

She did remember what he was talking about since he had been fretting over the ten-thousand-word paper for months now and the deadline kept on creeping closer. It was important to her brother, if he got his criminology major, the chances of him getting hired as a police officer—a lifelong dream of his— would increase considerably. So, she had endured every freak out session and every lecture about the exact subject he had chosen because that was what siblings did. Once the time came for Emma to write hers, in social studies this time, she knew David would do the same for her.

“Yeah, it’s difficult to forget.” Emma nodded. “But what does that have to do with me?”

She stood up to clear her plate, halting by the trash can to clear some of the remaining crumbs and depositing it in the sink. Turning on her heel, she faced her brother again.

“I need you to work your magic.” David had an apologetic look upon him as he shrugged, his police-themed PJ’s moving along.

“Which is?” She encouraged him to be more specific, to tell her exactly what she needed to do to help him.

“Read it over, give me some feedback, correct the errors that are most definitely in there?” he spoke, his voice rising as if, besides the work he had written, he was now also second-guessing his request to her.

Emma didn’t consider herself a nitpicker, but she had an eye for details and an affinity towards the English language fed by countless stories read and countless tales originating from the depths of her mind. It was a mere hobby, nothing more than an escape when things got too much to handle and people became too demanding that had originated when she was still a foster kid. That did not change Emma’s devotion or attention to detail, however; if anything, it enhanced it.

She wasn’t a nitpicker but she was the kind of person that noticed when commas stood in the wrong place or when the author should have used whom. Numerous of David’s high school assignments had to pass Emma’s watchful gaze first before getting the green light to be handed in and Emma couldn’t understand why her brother was so hesitant about asking her help now. She loved to help him, time and time again.

“David,” she said, soft and reassuring. “Of course, I’ll do it, you’re my brother. I’ll happily correct whatever mistakes I find and give some constructive feedback.”

A joyful smile broke the surface of David’s worried expression. He approached, arms open to embrace her in a hug. Emma wanted to comment on how this was all a bit too much for a simple read-through but as she felt his hand cup the back of her head, she reconsidered, basking in the warm feeling and memories.

-/-

She had to search for the right moment to tackle David’s text. Late in the evening hardly ever worked because her mind was often too clouded with the information it was bombarded with throughout the day, her eyes too tired after staring at textbooks and screens for over six hours, and her fingers fast to make a mistake as they were slow to take commands after writing down seventeen pages of notes. Emma doubted either of those elements would ameliorate the text, if not even worsen.

About four days after David had asked her, Emma finally sat behind the small wooden desk in the corner of her room, opening her laptop and shoving the chair closer. She scoured their Messenger chat to find the link to a Google Docs he had sent her, Emma claiming it would be easier to comment and adjust things on there and David following her advice.

She drank from her mug of coffee, slightly burning her tongue and rubbing it to the edges of her teeth to get rid of the feeling. Softly humming along to her Spotify playlist, Emma saw the link transform into a site and the site slowly loading and supplying a so far six-thousand seven-hundred-word-essay. She could do this, this was what she did best.

As she began to read the introduction to get a general view of what criminological theory she most definitely would not understand the essay was about, she noticed something. Footprints. Steps of someone else who had taken the path she was about to embark on. The words flashed by as she rapidly scrolled down to see if the entire document had already been scrutinized by someone else. And indeed, it had. This “anonymous python” had consistently left feedback on what her brother had written, the blue boxes appearing every paragraph or so.

anonymous python: Effect is the noun, affect the verb

anonymous python: Maybe change this word to another one. You use it thrice in two sentences.

At the end of David’s every line, Emma’s eyes dashed to the margin to see what the other proofreader thought, if they had noticed the same things she had before adding her own. She considered every comment the anonymous python had made, nodding her head in agreement with the logical and just ones, and frowning while reading those that were pure nonsense. Before she knew, she was pressing the reply button to refute whatever claim this Python was making.

anonymous python: You should add a comma here, Dave. It will structure your sentence a bit more.

anonymous swan: Please ignore the anonymous python, David. A comma is useless here, put an em-dash instead.

After checking about a third of the document and losing herself in countering any- and everything that Python had said, Emma looked up at the arrows of her clock, awfully close to the time she was expected in class. In a rush, she locked her computer, chugged the remains of her coffee—a drop missing her mouth and running down her chin before her hand hastily wiped it away— stood up, snatched her bag from her bed and dashed away to her class.

She made it with one minute to spare.

-/-

The weariness engulfing her from head to toe, Emma collapsed on her bed, an unceremonious thud in her flannel sheets. The mattress needed to process the shock, the sudden additional weight and softly bobbed as a ship might’ve on the water. Her room hadn’t quite warmed up yet, so, to give her body the warmth it yearned for, she crawled under the covers. A sigh left her lips as she settled in her own little cocoon of warmth and peace. Not feeling up to do anything else, she was planning a nice evening of scrolling through every social media app known to mankind. Emma struggled to retrieve her phone out of her jeans’ pocket without letting the cold air hit her skin, wriggling around in her sheets and turning from left to right.

A small blinking light caught her attention and she paused the fight against her sheets and pocket. Her eyes turned into slits to be able to determine the source, which was her laptop, still standing on her desk. She forgot to turn it off, right. Just before she could take the decision to ignore it, to keep it like this until the next time she needed it, her brother’s voice appeared in her mind telling her that it was bad for her computer. He wasn’t even here right now and still, he was lecturing her. Grunting, Emma reluctantly lifted her sheets and let the shivers attack her body. Three steps were all it took to reach her desk. Her fingers hit the right combination of keys to unlock the device and she began the close all the tabs she had accumulated during her last browsing session. As she moved her mouse to the red box that would close David’s paper, a sentence caught her interest.

See new changes made by anonymous.

It certainly wasn’t David, or it would’ve said that he made the changes and she didn’t change anything since she last saved everything. It had to be them. The anonymous python. With a strange feeling, a mix of excitement and apprehension, swirling inside of her, Emma looked for the alterations that had been made while she was away.

anonymous python: Excuse me? I do have a degree in English literature, I think I know when a comma is necessary, thank you very much.

“Oh, we’re being snobby, are we?”

Emma snorted and rolled her eyes. So, Python was that kind of person. All indignant and offended when someone knew better and pointed out their mistakes. Also known as Emma’s least favorite kind of person.

anonymous swan: Well, they clearly failed to teach you the most basic of punctuation.

She was already sitting at her computer, reading the document, and the adrenaline had given her new energy, so she might as well continue to do so instead of mindlessly scrolling through social media and watching cat videos. That way she could claim to be productive even if she didn’t actually do anything for school.

Suddenly a blue box popped up on the top of her screen with the white depiction of a snake in it, signaling that the anonymous python had returned.

Shit.

In a surge of panic, Emma shut the page down. Eyes wide and heart beating way faster than it ought to, she stared at her desktop image, hoping that they hadn’t seen her. It was one thing to anonymously bruise someone’s ego, a whole other thing to be in the same online room at the same time with that person, both painfully aware of what had been said.

It was time for a food break—or at least, that was what Emma told herself. She went in search of something to eat and came across a little message from Mary Margaret.

Good evening, Emma. You probably forgot but my archery class is tonight so I won’t be home ‘till late and David is staying at his own place. There’s leftover spaghetti in the fridge for you to devour. Enjoy and see you tonight.

-MM

Times like these made Emma really appreciate her friend and her caring nature. Mary Margaret was sweet, so innocently and selflessly sweet. Emma had told Mary Margaret numerous times that she could also just send a text, seeing that it was indeed the twenty-first century but Mary Margaret persisted and unknowingly brought a smile to Emma’s face every time she found a yellow post-it stuck to the refrigerator, or their table, or her bedroom door.

Emma removed the spaghetti, placed it on a plate and stuck it into the microwave, drumming her fingers against the counter as she waited for her serving of warm food. The seconds ticked away before the machine made a releasing sound while announcing her food was ready.

Plate in hand, she returned to her room and, more importantly, her computer. Taking a deep breath and first a bite of the still too warm food, Emma unlocked her computer again, bracing herself for the response of her online…— of somebody.

Oddly enough, they hadn’t reacted to her obvious jab, so Emma felt her nerves settle, only to be replaced by raging fire as she saw what they had reacted on. Which was almost every comment of hers.

anonymous python: Wrong. Your formulation is even worse than Dave’s original one.

anonymous python: A semicolon? In this sentence? I think not.

Emma was fuming. The audacity of this person. She spent the next half hour alternating between arguing on every comment they made, proving why exactly she was right and angrily chewing on her food. Reading and beta-ing were what she was good at. She didn’t need some know-it-all pointing out all of her mistakes when they were, in fact, not. There was a reason David specifically asked for her help.

(She was ignoring the fact that David had clearly asked someone else as well.)

With more force than was necessary— and healthy for her computer— she shut her screen, in dire need of something to distract her, to lead her away from her place of absolute rage and vindication. It was Python’s right to comment on her remarks as she did the same on theirs but the big difference was that hers were correct and fair criticisms while theirs were just a whole load of crap set out to drive her up the wall.

How very childish.

Continuing to revise David’s paper wasn’t in the cards right now, so she left her desk and decided she’d watch some more of that soap opera. It was the perfect opportunity seeing that Mary Margaret wasn’t getting home until late. As the title track played, Emma chose to be the bigger person and to not get carried away in this feud that had somehow unleashed. She was a responsible and smart adult and was better than this.

-/-

“Son of a bitch,” Emma yelled, fingers typing at inhuman speed. “I’ll show you just how fucking American I am.”

-/-

Emma woke up to the jingling sound of a notification and groaned, burrowing her head deeper into her pillow. She’d created this rule for herself that once she woke up, she could not go back to sleep so as her hand sloppily hunted for her phone, she prayed to Zeus that the time would be some ungodly hour so she could go back to sleep.

Zeus disappointed her.

As he often did.

Tapping her code, Emma saw what had caused her phone to chime and take over the role of her alarm clock.

David Nolan created this group chat. You, David Nolan and Killian Jones are a part of it.

Why would her brother create a group chat when they already had one? And who was this Killian Jones?

It was most likely by accident, a butt-dial sort of incident, though Emma failed to see how it was possible to add two random people who had never interacted to a group. His butt must’ve been oddly specific. Mental images flashed by her closed eyelids, turning her expression into a grimace. Thinking about her brother’s butt was a very bad idea. She should probably stop and focus on the overall situation. David hadn’t sent any additional messages which almost confirmed Emma’s suspicion of it being an accident.

Emma Nolan: ?

Emma Nolan: What’s this?

The white bubble appeared instantaneously and Emma awaited what her brother had to say.

David Nolan: A request to the both of you to stop bickering in the comment section of my paper. Your like little children.

The two of them? Was this mysterious Killian Jones the anonymous python that plagued David’s essay? She reread the message to assure she wasn’t imagining things but that was the message that his text contained. And a mistake.

Killian Jones: Dave, *you’re

Emma Nolan: *you’re

They’d responded at the exact same time and his message was all the confirmation she required. Oh, he was it, alright. Python felt the insistent need to call David Dave on every other comment and it was yet another thing about him that annoyed her and here he–Killian Jones–was using the exact same nickname with the exact same casual air that made Emma roll her eyes every single time. Why did people feel the need to nickname someone else and then only use their nickname? Dave this, Dave that. Emma was quite frankly annoyed. Even more than she already was.

David Nolan: You got my point, so quit it.

David Nolan: Though I am eternally grateful to you both for doing this. Just stop bickering.

The moment Killian had seen the message, Emma could feel him staring at her, assessing her. Not in the creepy way of course, but he wasn’t replying, nor was she, neither of them willing to acknowledge each other now they knew who exactly was hiding behind those pseudonyms. It felt like an online stare down to see who would crack first.

Even though she wanted to be strong, to show this Killian Jones just how stubborn she could be, her brother was still online, awaiting an answer, and what he was asking her—them— was only fair. Emma sighed and typed out a short answer before pressing send.

Emma Nolan: Okay.

Killian Jones: Fine.

-/-

“ Mary Margaret?” Emma said, her right hand holding a wooden spoon as she stirred a pot filled with vegetables and made sure their dinner wouldn’t burn.

“Yes?” her friend answered, walking around their dinner table and stretching her arms to set the plate and glass she was holding on the other side.

“Do you know a Killian Jones?” Her eyes focused on the orange of the carrots and the green of the broccoli.

“Why?”

Because he was incredibly annoying and a smartass and because Emma had discovered that he was also breathtakingly gorgeous after clicking on his Facebook profile. But she still hated him, let that be clear.

Mary Margaret inspected her work, quickly checking off a list of things they would need for dinner and when she concluded everything was present, she rearranged her dark pixie cut and looked up to Emma, who avoided her gaze and went on with stirring with the utmost concentration.

“Doesn’t matter, just answer the question, please,” she muttered.

There was a silence but Emma didn’t dare to turn around to see what was taking Mary Margaret so long before answering. She was just about certain what kind of look Mary Margaret’s expression would bear.

“I know him,” Mary Margaret finally gave in. “He’s one of David’s good friends. Killian is very nice, slightly full of himself but he has a heart of gold.”

Even though Mary Margaret appeared to be convinced of her view on Killian Jones, Emma couldn’t accept it. Mary Margaret saw the good in everyone even when there wasn’t any good to be found. She would give a speech about how everyone was redeemable and that one only needed to hope, so her opinion wasn’t reliable.

“I think you’re depreciating how full he is of himself because he seems pretty egocentric to me.”

And even that was an understatement.

Emma lifted her eyebrow, having found her confidence again and finally facing her friend.

“Why are you asking me this if you’ve met him?” Mary Margaret’s fair skin creased as she frowned.

Extinguishing the fire, Emma removed the vegetables and placed them on the table, turning around to grab the other components of their dinner.

“We haven’t met in real life,” she explained, “We’ve only interacted via Google Docs.”

“And it did not go well?” Mary Margaret assumed correctly.

Thinking back to what had been said, she shook her head, blonde locks slightly swaying along. “Not well” was an understatement too.

“To summarize: we fought incessantly and David made us promise we would call a truce.”

They both settled in their opposite chairs, Emma serving herself and getting ready to eat until she noticed that Mary Margaret hadn’t taken any food yet and was instead staring at her with a confused look.

“I can’t say that this doesn’t surprise me,” she spoke, drawing her eyebrows together anew. “I always thought you two would hit it off. Maybe you should you get to know each other a bit better, you do have some things in common.”

Getting to know him better was just about the last thing Emma wanted to do. It could only end up being a disaster.

“Well, it’s never going to happen. I hate Killian Jones.”

She visibly ended the discussion by taking a large bite of her food, overacting the whole thing to make her message clears but that didn’t stop Mary Margaret from making one last comment that did absolutely nothing to reassure her.

“If you say so, Emma.”

-/-

anonymous python: For goodness’ sake, Swan, he used the wrong tense here. How did you not see that?

anonymous swan: It’s creative license, Jones. It can work. Also, we’re not supposed to bicker and it’s Emma.

anonymous python: We aren’t bickering if you just agree that creative license in a dissertation is bollocks, Swan.

anonymous swan: EMMA. And no can do, sir. I suppose we are bickering.

-/-

anonymous swan: Jones, I am begging you. Please stop changing everything to British spelling. We’re in America. Adjust.

anonymous python: Normally I prefer to do more enjoyable activities with a woman begging me, but you’ve left me no choice. Care to show me?

David Nolan: Jones, stop hitting on my sister. And what did I tell you about bickering?

anonymous python: We’re just having a bit of fun, David.

David Nolan: Then have fun somewhere else than my dissertation.

anonymous python: You heard him, Swan. Let’s have fun somewhere else. Drinks on me tonight, The Merry Men, 9 pm.

David Nolan: No, you’re not doing that.

anonymous python: Don’t fret, Dave. You can join too.

-/-

She shouldn’t actually go, should she? He must’ve been joking, daring her to do something only to not show up to make fun of her. But why would he invite David as well? He wouldn’t do that to his friend, would he? Even though Emma did not hold him in any high regard, he did seem like a good friend to David. So, his proposal must’ve been genuine.

That didn’t help with sorting out her thoughts, it only gave her more questions, more doubts and fears. One thing, however, was blatantly clear.

Killian Jones confused her.

And not in a good way.

(Or so she told herself.)

-/-

The neon letters of the bar flickered against the inky night, a lighthouse in the dark to guide her ashore. She hadn’t figured out yet if it was a trap leading her to the cliffs or not.

Emma inhaled, the cold air almost painfully filling her lungs and shut her eyes. She hadn’t entered, hadn’t met him for real, hadn’t gotten drunk and she was already regretting this.

A decision had to be made. Either to enter or to go home. The internal debate with herself couldn’t last the entire evening or she would freeze. Wrapping her red leather jacket a bit tighter around herself, she shivered. Go inside or go home. There was a warm bar right in front of her and if she chose to go home, she would have to wait for a cab in the cold.

In the end, the prospect of feeling her fingers again won as Emma pushed the heavy wooden door and entered the bar. The heat warmed her skin and she knew she had made the right choice.

Her eyes roamed the room as she searched for her brother’s sandy colored hair, but to no avail.

“And here I thought you wouldn’t show.” Emma was startled by the voice suddenly appearing to her right. And by the accent. It didn’t make it difficult to guess who it belonged to despite the fact they had never spoken. She felt her heart speed up as she faced the source. “Swan.” He smirked, a cheeky and cocky thing that told Emma she had made the wrong choice. “Pleased to finally meet you.”

His hair was a chaos of black, his eyes a sea of blue. And if the dim bar light did not mislead her, his beard a haze of red. No amount of Facebook profile pictures could’ve prepared Emma for this.

“You know my name is Emma.” She stared at him with a raised eyebrow, the picture of not amused and unimpressed. Or so she hoped.

Jones laughed, a resonant thing, while pushing up the sleeves of his light blue shirt which totally did not make him ten times more attractive.

“I do, but I like Swan.” He shrugged. “It suits you.”

“And why is that?” she said, the suspicion coloring her voice.

Their eyes met and even though Emma wanted to look away, she couldn’t; the connection was too strong to sever. He didn’t move either, or blink, or answer the question she’d asked him.

“Feisty and beautiful.” was his reply after a minute or so. Perhaps it was more a couple of seconds. She had no idea. It was like the hard drive of her brain had been deleted and she’d forgotten how to do the most basic of things. Like breathing. Emma took a deep breath through her nose as she shook herself out of the trance. “I must say that your profile picture does not do you justice,” Jones continued.

Emma is surprised her eyes don’t roll out of her skull but the heat rises to her cheeks, nevertheless.

“Wow.” Emma scoffed. “It’s a good thing that you’re buying because I’m going to need a lot of alcohol to handle this.” Her hand drew a circle around his silhouette in the air.

“Say no more,” he smirked and led her to two empty bar chairs.

-/-

“Jane Austen? That’s your favorite author?” she almost shouted in disbelief. Emma had to stop herself from laughing. “Is it because you see yourself as a Mr. Knightley? I hate to break it to you, you’re not. At most a Mr. Elton.”

“I beg your pardon?” He looked genuinely affronted but Emma didn’t know if it was because she was mocking his choice of favorite author or because she was comparing him to one of the worst characters in Emma. “What’s wrong with Jane Austen, she quite frankly wrote terrific books. Who’s your favorite author, may I ask?” he challenged her.

It didn’t take Emma long to come up with a name.

“Hemingway,” she said before taking a swig from her bottle of beer and contently nodding as she thought about it again.

Jones tilted his head and quietly hummed as he considered her answer.

“Very good author,” he finally reacted and Emma was about to start beaming with pride when he continued to speak, “but definitely not worthy of the honor of being your favorite. You need to pick someone who deserves it, with whom you would love to be friends. I for one would love to be friends with Jane Austen. Hemingway… not so much.”

“What?” She tried to find some sign of ridicule or humor but found none. He was being completely honest. And she did not agree in the slightest. “That’s bullshit. I don’t need to like Hemingway as a person to like him as an author.”

“But who he is as a person is reflected in his books. Trust me, I have a degree in literature.”

“Ugh, this again,” she complained and rolled her eyes, a very common occurrence when she was in the company of Killian Jones, it would seem.

“It’s the truth. Oh no!” he suddenly shouted.

Emma almost fell off her bar stool, her hand flying up to her chest in shock and barely missing her bottle of beer on the counter. She looked around, eyes frantically searching for something amiss before they landed on Jones again who sat calmly on his stool, amusedly watching her.

“What?”

“We’re bickering, Swan,” he announced. “David would disapprove.”

Emma clenched her jaw in anger while she attempted to get her heartbeat back to normal.

“You just scared the shit out of me. Where is David by the way?

Jones raised his shoulders, showing that he did not know either what was keeping her brother. Bent on finding out why he hadn’t shown up in the last hour, she fished her phone out of pocket and dialed David’s number. The bar and the area surrounding it kept on getting busier, so as the dial tone rung in Emma’s ears, she left Jones there and went in search of a place where she would be able to hear what David’s most likely lame excuse for running late would be. The continuous ring stopped with a rustle, telling her he had finally picked up.

“Hello?” he said.

“Hey, it’s me. Where are you?” She settled against a brick wall in some hallway not frequented by other people.

“Um.” Emma narrowed her eyes as David struggled to get a uniform answer out. This was suspicious. “I can’t make it.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, sorry, Emma. I have to go.”

And abruptly she was met with the end of the call and silence. Nothing in that call seemed like her brother. The last-minute cancelling—could you even call it that if he was supposed to be here an hour ago— the general vagueness, the abrupt end of the call. Odd. Very odd.

Thinking about it had her frowning as she walked back to the spots Jones and she occupied earlier and that he was still protecting against predators

“Is everything okay?” His eyes showed concern for her.

“Yeah,” Emma reassured him, smiling to get rid of the scowl on her face. “David is not coming.”

Grabbing her deserted bottle of probably lukewarm beer, Emma climbed back onto the stool.

“I don’t really mind if I’m being honest. I’m quite enjoying myself with the present company.”

Were they sitting closer than before? They must be. Emma wasn’t able to discern his distinctive smell before, nor could she see the small scar on his right cheek or how long his eyelashes were. It almost managed to take her breath away.

“I should probably go home,” she whispered.

“Come on, Swan, don’t let a man drink alone.” She felt his gaze trace her face as he pleaded with her, both verbally and physically.

They stared at one another again and for a split second, Emma was certain they were going to kiss. He was going to lean in or she was and their lips would meet and she’d be kissing Killian Jones. The other people around them would disappear as they focused on each other and how their tongues would interact and time would stop as they pulled and pushed, fighting for control and the upper hand. She would moan, he would groan, the feeling so satisfying and it would definitely be mind-blowing. She would instantly regret it.

“I have to go,” she said weakly. “I have an early class tomorrow.”

It was a shit excuse and they both knew it.

-/-

“So?” A chirpy voice behind Emma spoke. At this hour, there was only one person in this apartment that scattered chirpiness: Mary Margaret. “How was your date with Killian?”

How she reminded Emma of how her mom behaved when she went on her first date. Way too nosy and excited about the whole ordeal.

“It wasn’t a date,” Emma reminded her friend. “David was supposed to show up too but he bailed on me.”

Which still confused her. Her brother, who had gone to great lengths to avoid that Jones spent time with her, was suddenly okay with leaving them alone at night, with alcohol involved? It seemed awfully out of character for David. He considered himself her savior, the big brother that had to keep all harm away from his little sister. Killian Jones was far from being harmless and David was aware of that.

“I know.”

“You know?” Emma turned her head, suspiciously eyeing her sister-in-law. If there was one person that could make David not act like himself…

“I might be the reason why?” Mary Margaret grimaced and confirmed Emma’s suspicion.

What the hell?

“Mary Margaret!” came out as a shout. Emma didn’t even try to hide her displeasure.

Of course, she meddled. After her comment from before about how she thought they should get to know each other, Emma could not be surprised that she made sure that they did. She couldn’t be surprised but she could be disgruntled.

“Sorry.” Her hands went up as a defense mechanism. She didn’t seem sorry at all, making it all so much worse. “But, how was it?”

Emma let her change the subject because deep down she’d been wanting to discuss it with someone. She hadn’t rightly figured out what exactly it was she wanted to discuss but she knew she needed to verbalize it, even if it was only an attempt to. Killian Jones did things to her, things she couldn’t wrap her mind around, things that were all over the place as if they swung from left to right, from one opposite to the other and she was stuck watching it all take place.

“He’s … urgh.” It was both a sigh and a grunt at the same time and the best thing she could think of to describe her evening.

“Emma Nolan at loss for words, I didn’t think I would live to see this day.

“I’m not at loss for words I can give you a million words to describe Killian Jones. Aggravating for instance. What else?” She bit her lip in thought, trying to prove she hadn’t lost any of her magic powers. “Oh!” She raised her finger a bit too excitedly as another word came to mind. “He’s also pedantic, conceited and most of the time very…”

“Distracting?” Mary Margaret prompted with a look of compassion.

Emma let her shoulders sag, her whole body following as she dropped herself on their couch. It took a lot of energy to pretend. “Very,” she faintly admitted, hair strewn across the leather and eyes glued to the ceiling.

She felt her legs being lifted as Mary Margaret made room for her to sit on the couch too.

“Emma, there is nothing wrong with asking him to hang out again,” she assured her, a squeeze following meant to emphasize her words but Emma shook her head disagreeing. Mary Margaret couldn’t know that for certain, she lived in this brightly colored fairytale world where everything went great and everyone was happy and got their Happily Ever After. Emma didn’t believe in all of that. This thing with Jones wouldn’t lead to that if they—she— acted on it. She didn’t know where it would lead her and that was why she wouldn’t dare to take the plunge. Staying safely ashore was far safer than risking to drown.

“And grant him the opportunity to gloat at every given moment?” She sat back up, trying to shake off the conflicting feeling and immersing herself back into her earlier mindset. The mindset from when Jones was just still anonymous python and she couldn’t stand the sight of him. Maybe Mary Margaret would believe the act she was putting on. “No, thank you. I need to stay as far away from Killian Jones as possible.”

-/-

“Swan?” Emma froze, her hand still reaching out for the box of hot chocolate mix and her eyes shutting as she winced while hearing the nickname only one person in the whole world called her. Just her luck that that one person was also the one she was avoiding with might and main. But apparently, she couldn’t even go to the supermarket in peace. Maybe if she didn’t move, continued to stand there with her hand in the air, he wouldn’t approach her? Perhaps he would just walk by with an acknowledging nod and she would go about her day without having to face Killian Jones after she very obviously stood him up two weeks ago. Who was she kidding, the universe wasn’t kind enough to grant her that gesture. “What a lovely coincidence.”

Taking a breath, she turned around, a neutral expression on her features instead of the alarmed one they bore.

“Jones,” she curtly addressed him.

He was wearing a dark burgundy sweater, a pair of dark jeans and a warm coat over it to protect him from the outside temperatures; his hair was still a controlled mess and his cheeks slightly rosy due to the cold but what caught Emma’s attention the most was the smile that did not waver from his face.

“I’m happy I’m running into you.”

Emma had noticed that. She needed to be strong, however, to not get distracted by the way his eyes crinkled.

“Why exactly is that?” Her brow skeptically furrowed.

He moved his shopping basket to his left arm to take a step closer to her. Her body wanted to back away but the rack with hot chocolate mixes was in the way. The distance between them had declined so much that, because of their height difference, Emma was now forced to look up to look him in the eye.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something but I didn’t want to do it via Messenger.”

There was a foreboding silence as they watched each other. He wouldn’t dare. She had just gone through two weeks of agony and he wasn’t about to reset her whole process by saying what she thought he was going to say. He couldn’t.

“I wrote an essay for an academic publication-” Emma felt her chest deflate as she let the air out of her lungs in relief. He wasn’t. She mentally thanked Zeus. “-and I was wondering if you could take a look at it?”

“Take a look?” Emma repeated harshly. “Why?” She didn’t give him any time to reply and answered her own question, “To boost your ego? You know what, I think I’m gonna pass. Hey, I have an idea. Maybe you should ask one of your flings, I’m certain they’d love to have the scoop of reading the essay of the prodigal Killian Jones.” To finish her statement, she added a sly smirk— though it was more of a sneer.

They bantered and jabbed, all with the same air of sarcasm and mockery, this was what they did. But why did he appear so defeated, then? So sad? He wasn’t supposed to; he was to supposed to counter with his equally clever remark, another battle in their never-ending war.

“Emma, please, would you read it,” he begged. It wasn’t the way he said it but what that caught her off guard. He’d never called her Emma before. Never, not even once. He purposely and stubbornly refused to. So, this was dead serious. “I’m begging you. I’ll do anything in return. I just need a second set of eyes.”

The desperation drenched his words and Emma could feel her resolution of staying detached fall apart, piece by piece.

“Okay,” she said, before thinking about what she was doing. Her heart clenched at the sight of his distressing disposition and wanted to banish it once and for all. She was pretty sure it would do everything in its power never to see that look again. “You can send me the file. I have to go now but I’ll take a look tonight.”

“Thank you so much, Swan.” He managed to smile a small smile. “You’ve earned my eternal gratitude.

She had no idea what to with that.

Not even five minutes later, her phone chirped.

Killian Jones has sent you a friendship request.

Sighing, Emma clicked accept. It was just a Facebook friendship, she was aware, but still, it was more. She’d agreed to help like a friend would. They suddenly became friends instead of fluctuating in the grey zone of enemies-but-not-really. It felt weird to enter this new territory. To have Killian Jones as a friend while she spent so much time being annoyed by him and far too much time with him residing in the back of her mind.

Killian Jones: Thanks again for doing this, Swan.

Emma Nolan: No problem. So, what do you want me to do precisely? Spelling, grammar, anything else?

Killian Jones: Well, spelling and grammar should be on point, but it can’t hurt to double check. It’s mainly the message, however. Do you get what I’m saying? Am I not repeating myself? Is there a clear structure? etc. I’ve read it so many times now that I’m second guessing every word and phrasing.

Emma Nolan: I can do that. I’ll read it as soon as I can.

Killian Jones: Be kind, Swan.

Emma Nolan: Eh. I’ll see how good this is before making any promises.

-/-

It wasn’t just good, it was incredible. Written with passion and intelligence. He incorporated humor in an academic essay and managed to get away with it. He drew her in from the very first sentence and kept her attention for the whole thirteen pages, the speed with which she was reading only increasing so she could see what else he had written. Fuck, he was talented. And she now had to admit it to him.

anonymous swan: I would add em-dashes here just to clarify the structure of your sentence.

anonymous swan: Good metaphor, I’d go even further with it. Compare more to it, the reader won’t mind one bit

anonymous swan: I thought you said creative license in academic essays was “bollocks”? Someone isn’t being consistent.

Killian Jones: I was expecting you to be more critical

Emma Nolan: So was I, but there was nothing to be critical about. It was really good, surprisingly enough.

Killian Jones: You think so?

Emma Nolan: I do. Well done, Jones.

-/-

Killian Jones: Swan! Guess what!

Emma Nolan: What?

Killian Jones: Because of my essay, I got nominated for the Newcomer of the Year award!!

Emma Nolan: Wow, Impressive! Congratulations!

Killian Jones: Thank you! Apparently, they attempted to reach out to me as soon as it got published, but they got my contact information wrong. The award ceremony is tonight and I thought I’d ask you to come along as a thank you.

Emma Nolan: Jones, I’ve already told you that I did absolutely nothing, stop trying to thank me. Emma Nolan: Besides, fancy award ceremonies and I don’t mix. I’m going to skip. But have fun!

-/-

“Have you heard the news?”

Emma startled as her brother barged into her room without knocking, without so much as a word to warn her of his entrance. In confusion, she took out her earbud, the white pod still blasting her playlist of study music, and silently asked him what he was doing with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

“Have you heard?” he repeated, his voice insisting.

Slamming her book shut and pulling out her other earbud, aware of how she would not be able to do any studying when he was interrogating her in her room’s door opening, she turned to him, begrudgingly giving him her full and prompt attention.

“Heard what, David?” The annoyance was obvious in how she almost spit the words out.

“Killian’s essay got nominated for some prize.”

“I know. Good for him. I already congratulated him.” She failed to see why David had to kick down her door and announce it, interrupting her sacred reversion time. She was finally being productive.

“That’s all?” he asked, disappointed about something Emma couldn’t figure out.

What more could he want?

“Yeah,” she stretched out the word, watching him. “I was invited to come along but I passed. What else do you want me to say?

“Emma!” She was definitely missing something to understand this whole situation. “He asked you out and you said no!”

David provided her with the missing information, but she was wrong, it did not help whatsoever to understand.

“What? I said he didn’t need to thank me with some fancy dinner.” Her voice rose in pitch as she slowly began to comprehend what was going on and tried to defend herself. She was innocent.

“Knowing Killian, he took it as a rejection.”

“No, he didn’t,” Emma was convincing herself more than David at this point. “What are you talking about?”

David grabbed his phone, ceremoniously cleared his throat and started reading, “5:21 pm: “Mate, do you think it’s a good idea to ask your sister to join me? But like on an official date,”” he horrendously copied Jones’ typical lilt. “And then just now, 7:57 pm: “Dave, I don’t know what to do anymore. I’ve tried so many times, but I think she’s just not interested. I should give up. Anyways, I have to go. I have a ceremony to attend.””

Her brother was awaiting a reaction but Emma was right there with him, no idea how or what she should react. All she knew was that she didn’t want him to give up. So, all this time spent talking and bickering, that was him trying?

“What happened to him being this suave ladies’ man?”

“Do you really believe that’s who he is? Or even was?” His blue eyes were solemn as he questioned her opinion of his friend. She could see it there, the close bond the two of them had, the way David wanted to protect Killian. Perhaps the reason he never introduced Emma to him wasn’t because he wanted to protect her, but because he wanted to secure his best friend’s fragile heart.

“No,” she answered, head and eyes cast downwards in shame. “Okay, but what do you want me to do about it?”

The look he gave her didn’t leave a lot to the imagination and if it wasn’t quite clear yet, his arms crossing in front of his chest did tell her what he wanted her to do.

“When did you become such a fan of Jones and me together?”

His stern gaze and posture softened again as he thought of an answer which led Emma to think that the answer would be something she wasn’t ready for yet.

“Since I saw how much you’ve both changed since you met one another.” He stepped closer and went to sit on a corner of her desk. “Mary Margaret had to open my eyes but once seen, it could not be unseen. I didn’t completely realize how much you two were talking.”

“About your dissertation,” Emma clarified.

David looked down at her, not a trace of pressure or implication. Only a simple question with no underlying meaning; he was giving her the freedom to answer as she pleased. “Are you sure about that?”

They weren’t only talking about his dissertation. Every conversation might’ve started that way but they slowly but surely drifted to another topic, time and time again. She’d gotten to know a lot about him over the past few weeks she’d considered him a friend, and he about her, more than she cared to admit.

She shut her eyelids and shook her head. Once she reopened them, David sympathetically watched her. The hairs on her body stood upright with the realization that she wanted to try too. Finally, she had gotten ready to risk it, to give him a chance. But Killian told David he was done trying. Fuck.

“Now go.” David shook her out of her contemplation.

“What?” Emma replied in confusion.

“To the ceremony.” David grabbed her arms and helping her out of her chair. “You might still make it on time.”

She had only just come to the realization that she liked him and she already supposed to go and tell him? Oh no, she could not do that. Emma needed at least another couple of days or so to accept it all, and then visit him on her own terms, and then maybe bring up the topic. This was going way too fast.

“David, I can’t just barge in!”

What would it look like? Her swinging open the doors of a black and tie event in her sweatpants and oversized sweater, hair a mess—and not the good kind like Jones’— out of breath and sweating, disrupting some important person holding a speech and all eyes flying over to her just to say that she liked Killian Jones enough to want to date him. Emma’s worst nightmare, that was what it looked like.

“Yes, you can!” he disagreed, pushing her out of the room.

“Why are we yelling?” Mary Margaret appeared in the hallway and joined the conversation.

Before Emma could turn around and answer her question, placating Mary Margaret and downplaying everything to avoid her interference, David took the opportunity to recruit her onto his side.

“Emma is going to Killian’s ceremony to tell him she likes him.”

Waving her hands, she attempted to transfer the message that that wasn’t what they were doing. Everyone needed to calm the fuck down. David needed to stop pushing her, both physically and emotionally; Mary Margaret needed to stop looking at her with that sparkle of hope in her green eyes; and Emma needed the space to breathe and not freak out about everyone knowing she liked Jones.

“Oh my god!” Mary Margaret joined the yelling and simultaneously did so with Emma.

“No, I’m not!”

Her head was starting to hurt and to relieve the pain, Emma began to rub her temples with the tips of her fingers.

Mary Margaret came closer and tenderly placed her hands on both of Emma’s shoulders.

“Emma, you should,” she advised, bringing the yelling to an end with her soft voice. “It would be so very romantic.”

David came to stand right next to her, nodding and echoing what his girlfriend had said, yet again a reappearance of their trademarked true love bond.

“Why are you two like this?” Emma inquired as a last refusal, no idea what she was supposed to do right now. She could feel those two sets of eyes staring at her and pulling her over that line, convincing her, regardless how hard she might be against the idea.

“Emma.” She looked up at her brother and sister-in-law, who were standing awfully close to her in a tiny hallway. “Do you like Killian?”

“Yes.”

Mary Margaret smirked, an unsettling sight because she was not the type of person that smirked. Emma knew that it was decided. They were going.

“Then put on that pretty dress in your closet—you know that soft pink one— and go to the ceremony. I’ll drive.”

Emma supposed it was time to do some grand romantic gesture of her own. Ugh.

-/-

She slipped into the dark room, her dress swishing against her bare legs, and softly closed the door behind her. Scanning the room, she went in search of him and after some squinting, she could spot him in the front row. He looked an awful lot like the day she ran into him at the supermarket, nervous and afraid, with as only difference the suit he was wearing instead of his woolly sweater.

“To end our evening, we would like to announce our Newcomer of the Year,” the slightly balding man on the stage announced. Emma smiled, she had made it just in time. “The winner of this prize is a young, up-and-coming author. After recently having graduated in the studies of English Literature–”

And never shutting up about the fact that he did, Emma thought.

“–our laureate received acclaim for his dissertation and he managed to prove again with his recently written essay that this was all due to his talent and dedication. We are very pleased to announce that this year’s winner is Mr. Killian Jones.”

She clapped and whooped as she saw him walk towards the stage with a brilliant smile, pride swelling and spreading in her chest. He truly deserved this.

Killian reached the microphone and accepted the little statue, giving the host a handshake and looking at the bronze prize in awe.

“Thank you very much. I cannot properly express what it means to have your support. Writing and reading have been passions of mine ever since I was a young lad and to take this path was, therefore, a logical option I’ve not once regretted. Me standing here today would not be possible without my brother and mother who read countless stories until their voices went hoarse, without the amazing friends I have, and without the incredible people who read and gave feedback when the doubt grew too large and to whom I’m eternally grateful. So, thank you. I will treasure this moment forever.”

His speech was met with loud applause and Killian left the stage again, still shaking his head in disbelief. She was about to surprise him again. Waiting in a corner of the room until the mass of people wanting to congratulate him had dispersed and he was alone again, Emma left the shadows and walked over to Killian, who was admiring his prize yet again.

“I believe congratulations are in order. Newcomer of the Year, well done.”

Killian’s eyes left the trophy and moved to her, wide and blinking to see if this was real.

“Swan,” he breathed. “You’re here.”

She shrugged. “I decided that I might try one of these fancy award ceremonies.” Jones beamed as she leaned in. “I particularly liked your speech. Tell me, are there a lot of incredible people that read your text? Or was it just me?”

“Just you, Swan. You are more than enough.”

Fuck these stupid fancy award ceremonies for not being an appropriate place to attack him with her mouth.

Five Years Later

“Are you nervous?” she asked, running her hands through his dark locks, making them look just right. After taking a small step back and nodding approvingly, her hand slid down, settling on his cheek and caressing the soft skin there.

“Why would I be nervous?” His blue eyes looked up and betrayed that his confidence was all just an act.

Which Emma already knew, of course. She knew how he reacted to publishing his own work, to letting people he didn’t know and trust read the things he had worked on for weeks, months and even years sometimes.

“Because I know you and you’re publishing something that’s a bit bigger than just an essay in a magazine this time.” Emma’s eyebrows rose and Killian let out a sigh.

“Yeah,” he finally admitted, covering her hand with his own. “I’m bloody nervous.”

A smile crept on her face and she curled her free arm around his, pulling him closer to her to whisper a confession in his ear.

��I was waiting until you would say that.”

“Were you?” he questioned, tilting his head and lifting one expressive eyebrow.

Moving her head up and down, Emma confirmed. “So I could do this–” Her lips gently brushed his, an innocent thing, but it wasn’t about passion right now. It was about calming him and his nerves down and kissing her almost always seemed to have that effect. “– and tell you that your book is amazing and that everyone is going to love it. It’s the best thing you’ve ever written, Killian. And it can’t hurt that you had the world’s best beta-reader who also happens to be your lovely wife.” She winked, earning a laugh from Killian. “I’ve finally picked a favorite author that deserves it and that I love ” The words carried the memory of their very first date— first according to Killian, Emma wasn’t really convinced of that— and managed to eradicate the last remnants of stress inside of Killian as his hand stopped trembling and his eyes only contained love.

“You’re brilliant, you know that, right?” He cradled her cheeks before letting their foreheads touch.

“And you’ll do great, you know that, right?” she whispered back with closed eyes, reveling in the moment.

“I love you, Swan.”

She felt his lips on hers again and kissed back, the sensation still making her feel lightheaded as it had when they first kissed on the parking lot of the venue Killian had won his first award.

“Go knock them dead.”

He winked one final time at her before walking out on stage, a thunderous applause welcoming him, and Emma left the backstage to join the audience.

“Hello everyone, welcome and thank you for being at this reading,” Killian greeted his fans. “I’ll be reading the first couple of chapters and afterwards, you can get your copy signed if you’d like.”

The book on the stand was opened and Killian began to read.

“This book—and all of its em-dashes— is dedicated to the anonymous swan.”

A/N: This fic—and all of its em-dashes— is dedicated to the notorious nonnie

#cs ff #captain swan #cs au #cs crew #my words and sentences #notorious nonnie

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yutasbirthchin · 7 years

Text

Disaster.

Group: Day6 Member: Jae Word Count: 3313 Damn son Genre: Fluff

a/n: Why do I feel like Jae trying to plan a date would be a complete disaster? Also this seemed waaaaaay better in my head than it actually came out, don't hate me. This is like 99% dialogue btw.

Your phone buzzing on the desk pulled you from your sleep and you opened your eyes. A look at the clock told you it had only been an hour since you’d finally made it to bed after finishing and submitting your essay. Slowly getting off of your bed and trudging over to the phone left abandoned on your desk, you picked it up and answered without looking at who was calling.

You heard a chuckle on the other end laughing at your groggy morning voice, recognising his voice before he even spoke. “What do you want, Jae?”

“Man you sound like shit.”

“You woke me up, asshole.”

“You're so rude, what have I done to deserve this?”

“What do you want?”

“You free today?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Great, I'll be at yours in 10.”

“Wait what. I'm not even ready or anything. You just woke me up, give me at least 20 minutes.”

“Fiiiiine, I’ll be there in 20.” He said and hung up on you.

You rolled your eyes and threw your phone on the bed. ‘Time to get ready, I guess’.

Twenty minutes later your doorbell rang as you were drying your hair, you buzzed him up.

“Hey.” He greeted as he held his arms out waiting for a hug. You rolled your eyes as you walked into his embrace. “You look exhausted.”

“You woke me up.”

“It not like you to sleep in, you’re usually awake at six in the morning.”

“Seven. And yeah usually.”

He chuckled. “Well, I brought you breakfast” He held out the brown paper bag and all you could do was laugh.

“McDonald's. Great. Very healthy breakfast.”

“Hey! I bought this for you with my own, hard earned money, you should be grateful. I could have spent this on myself but nooo I decided to be a good best friend and buy you breakfast.”

“Jeez, okay just give me the damn food.”

You'd eaten in the kitchen of your small studio apartment. Jae was whining the whole time about how you were taking so long, but eventually shut up after you'd threatened to smash Mery to smithereens.

Whenever you asked where the hell you were going that meant you had to get up and leave at eight in the morning, he'd tapped his nose, implying it was a secret. You rolled your eyes. You did that a lot when Jae was around.

Once you had finished eating, and had stayed talking for 10 minutes to let your food go down, you'd followed Jae out of your apartment building to his car. The two of you carried on with your usual banter for a while, until you noticed that this car journey seemed to be dragging on.

“Jae, seriously. Where on Earth are we going?”

“What part of ‘it’s a secret’ do you not understand?”

“Hey, you never said it’s a secret. You never said anything, you just tapped your nose.”

“Don’t be a smart ass.”

“The hell?” You questioned as he made a turn onto the motorway. “Where are you taking me?”

“Secret.”

“I hate you.”

“I hate you more.”

“Then why are you driving me so far away fro- Oh no.”

He took his eyes off the road and glanced at you with an confused look on his face. “What?”

“Oh no. You’re going to kill me, that’s why you won’t tell me where we’re going, so I can’t tell anyone where I am.” He chuckled in response. “I’m going to die. This is it. My short life ends here. You’re going to chop up my body and bury me where no one would find me. Dammit. Why did I ever trust you? I knew you were a murderer.”

“Shut up”

“Please, Jae don’t kill me.”

“Shut up.”

“At least let me say goodbye to my family.”

“Oh my God you’re so annoying, why do I love you?”

“Eww.” You replied. It was your usual response to anyone telling you that they loved you.

The conversation died down to a comfortable silence, you’d given up trying to work out where you were headed. Your eyes started to feel heavy.

“Dude.” Jae said, making you sit up straight and rub your tired eyes.

“What?”

“You’ve yawned like six times in the last minute and now you’re falling asleep on yourself.”

“You woke me up.”

“Yeah, at half seven, you usually wake up at like six.”

“I usually wake up at seven.”

“Whatever, either way you shouldn’t be that tired, you had a half hour lie in.”

“Remember that essay I was struggling with?”

“The one thats due next week or something?”

“It’s due today.”

“Oh… Oh shit.” He looked at you. “Why did you say you were free today, idiot. You should be writing your essay.” He sighed. “I’ll take the next turn off and just take you back home.”

“Then what are you gonna do all day?”

“I don’t know. I’ll crash at yours, make sure you do the essay.”

“Pretty sure you’d distract me.” You replied, and Jae sighed again, defeated.

“Fine.” You laughed at his tone of voice. “What?”

“You don’t have to take me back home. I already finished it, idiot.” You said, hoping he could understand what you’d said through your laughter.

“Y/N I am turning off of this motorway and dropping your ass back home because I hate you.” This only made you laugh more. “If you finished the damn essay why did you even bring it up? Just to mess with me and make me feel like I fucked up? Man I hate you.”

“You hate me? But you just passed that turn off. Seems like you want me to stick around.”

“Fuck you.”

“Woah, language, Mister.” You laughed again. “Anyway, the essay. I finished and submitted it a little after six this morning.”

“And?”

“You woke me up at half seven.”

It suddenly dawned on him.

“Ohhh shit. Fuck. Y/N. You idiot, why didn’t you tell me? I’m so so sorry. Oh god. I didn’t know. Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“No it’s not, you barely slept. Why didn’t you just say you hadn’t slept?”

“I don’t know.” You answered genuinely. “You’re my best friend. Ride or die. Something like that.”

“You’re so dumb. I’ll take you home so you can sleep.”

“What? No. Don’t be stupid. I came because you asked me if I was free, don’t drop me home, that’s pointless. I want to go even though I don’t know where you’re taking me.”

This argument went back and forth for awhile until Jae revealed that you’d be in the car for another hour and a half and told you to at least sleep on the journey. It didn’t take long before the car was silent apart from your occasional faint snores and his little chuckles as he glanced over at you now and then. Jae didn’t like the silence, but put up with it. He wanted nothing more than to wake you up and annoy you until you would most likely threaten him or his guitars. But he didn’t; he felt bad. If he’d have known you hadn’t slept he would have never asked you to come out in the first place. ‘Thank God for the long distance’ he thought to himself.

You were too far gone to notice the car pulling off the motorway, eventually slowing down and stopping at a convenience store. Jae looked across at you, unsure of what to do. He didn’t want to leave you in the car asleep, but he also didn’t want to wake you up. After a while he pulled out his phone, making sure it was on silent before snapping a few pictures of your sleeping form, laughing as he looked over them. Finally, he reached over and poked your shoulder. “Hey… Y/N?” When this failed to wake you up he moved his hand to your chin, pushing your mouth closed, and chuckling before slowly shaking your head. “Wake up.” He said louder, making you stir. You pushed his hand away and stretched.

“Are we there yet?” You asked, looking at Jae.

“Almost, I stopped here to get a coffee.”

“Then why did you wake me up?”

“Because I’m not leaving you alone asleep in the car.”

“Okay. Well. Go on then.”

“You know, you’re cute when you sleep.”

“I will murder you.” You threatened, and he let out a loud laugh.

“I’ll get you one too.” He said as he got out of the car and headed into the shop.

“This was a disaster, I’m so sorry.” Jae filled the silence as he carried you on his back, back to his car that seemed a lot further away than you guys remembered.

“Don’t apologise, it was fun.”

“Fun? I woke you up too early, drove you all the way here, only for my friend that we were supposed to meet to bail on me. So now we’re in this little town that neither of us know, we got lost an-”

“It’s a cool little town though, it’s near the sea, you can hear and smell it, it’s nice. And we got to explore a little, it was fun. Anyway, are we really lost when we both have phones with maps on them?”

“Yeah, and thanks to those maps I have no idea where my damn car is.”

“No, that’s because neither of us thought to look at the name of the road where you parked it, that was our fault.”

“Look, if you’re going to stop my pessimistic rant with your optimistic counters, don’t then blame me for something and make me feel stupid.”

“I’m not blaming you, I’m blaming both of us, we’re both stupid.”

“Both includes me, stupid.”

“Hey, don’t complain about me making you feel stupid and then call me stupid, stupid.”

“You started it.”

“So childish.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you too.” You replied sarcastically. If it wasn’t for the fact that you were behind him, you would have seen the little smile that settled on his face, and, if it wasn’t for the fact that you were focused on looking at your phone, you would’ve noticed that he didn’t mock your ‘Eww’ like he usually did when you said you loved him. “Try turning left here.”

As you guys turned the corner Jae saw a wall and stopped. “Let’s just rest for a bit.”

“Tired?” You teased.

“Not my fault you’re fat and heavy.”

“Not my fault you’re weak.” You replied as you slid off his back, and plonked yourself down beside him on the wall. He sighed and then laughed, facepalming. “What?”

“I just can’t believe how badly this turned out.”

“Stop it. I said it was fun, don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then why don’t you believe me, stupid?”

“Because how can you have honestly had fun?”

“I told you, we’re in a cool little town that we got to explore. We found that cool little shop and bought silly hats, we found a nice cafe to eat at, we found the beach an-”

“And you stole my phone, ran away with it, so I chased you and then you fell over and hurt your knee and broke your sunglasses.”

“They were cheap, I don’t care. My knee is fine and at least I didn’t break your phone.”

“I would have rather you broken my phone than hurt your knee.”

“Then you’d have to buy a new phone or pay to repair it.”

“Yeah but I’d forgive you.”

“You make no sense. I fell on my own, it wasn’t your fault so I don’t even need to forgive you.” When he didn’t reply you sighed, moving closer to him and hugging his side.

“What are you doing?” He asked, half heartedly trying to push you off.

“You’re right. Today sucks. It sucks because you’re convinced it sucks and now the fun, funny, cool Jae has disappeared and I’m stuck with this stupid, sulky one.”

“I’m not sulking.”

“Yes you are, you’re acting like a toddler.”

“No I’m not.”

“You are too.”

“So are you.”

“Okay so we’re both childish, whatever. We’re lost, so what? At least we’re lost together. Can you imagine if you’d have come here on your own and your friend bailed. You would’ve been lost on your own, that sucks more. And then you would have called me and complained at me and I would get annoyed.”

“No I can’t.”

“Can’t what?” You asked, loosening your grip on him so that you could sit up straight and look at him.

“Imagine me coming here on my own and getting lost.”

“Why, because you’re boring and would have just gone straight home if I wasn’t here to convince you to look around.”

“No.” He chuckled, “I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, if you didn’t come with me I wouldn’t have come here in the first place.”

“Why?” You asked him, clearly confused. “Isn’t he your friend?”

“Well, yeah, but that’s not how double dates work. I can’t turn up to a double date without a date, then I’m just a third wheel and it would be really awkward.” He replied matter-of-factly.

You blinked at him. “What?”

“What?”

“Is that what this is all about?”

“What all what is about?”

“A double date?”

Jae went to reply, but then seemed to realise what he had just let slip. “Wh- uhh, what?” He said quickly as his ears turned red.

“Is that why you’re all bummed out and blaming yourself?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He stood up abruptly. “I’m all rested now, let's go.” He turned for you to get on his back.

“I can walk.”

“No you can’t.”

“Yeah I can, see” You said as you walked past him.

“You’re limping!”

“Walking with a limp is still walking, idiot.”

“Just get on my back already.”

“I want to walk.”

“Y/N.”

“Fiiiiine.” You said as you limped back towards him and jumped on his back. He then set off down the road.

“I hope we find the car soon. I can’t wait for this day to be over.”

“Why? Because it’s a disaster?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you like me?”

“Obviously, you’re my best friend.”

“You know that’s not what I meant, Jae.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Oh okay. Well then, it’s good you used me as a test run for a date, I can give you some pointers so when you plan your next date with a girl it isn’t so much of a disaster.”

“What? No, this wasn’t supposed to be a test run. What are you talking about?”

“So this was supposed to be a real date.”

“Yeah”

“So you do like me.”

His reply came late as he realised you had, once again, tricked him. “Once I drop you home I am never talking to you again.”

“Until you realise you like me too much that you end up calling me out on another disaster date.” You teased.

“Isn’t that the shop we passed?” He asked, avoiding the subject and making you look up.

“Oh yeah, isn’t that where we bought the hats?”

“So my car should be on the next road, right?”

“I think so.”

The two of you sat in the car in silence. You wanted to talk to him, or more specifically, to tease him. But you wanted to see what he would say, so you kept quiet.

“Stop staring at me.” Was all he said.

“What am I supposed to do? You organised this date, I’m waiting to see what other disasters you’re gonna pull you of your sleeve.”

“Can you please stop mentioning it.”

“I don’t get it. You’re supposed to go on a date with someone you’ve confessed to, or are going to confess to.”

“So?”

“So, why are you completely avoiding the topic.”

“I want to go home and forget this day ever existed.”

You huffed. “Well I had a great first date.” This caused Jae to look at you.

“Don’t patronise me.”

“Jeez, if this is how sulky you’re going to be when you think something goes wrong, then maybe I’ll go home and never talk to you again.”

“What?”

“I know you’re nervous and all, you’re shaking your leg and your lips are trembling and your eyes are a little shifty. But you can’t just give up on something so easily, what the hell. Okay so today didn’t go as planned, and you think it was a disaster, but you were fine up until I fell. You were laughing and joking and we were having fun and then boom, I scrape my knee and it’s the end of the world, like that was the last straw or something. I’ve been telling you for hours, it doesn’t matter, it’s fine, I’m having fun. But you’re throwing it all out the window because it didn’t go how you pictured it? And now you won’t even admit that this was supposed to be a date or that you like me unless I trick you into saying it. You were the one that let it slip in the first place.”

Jae seemed to sit and wonder his new words before he said them. He sighed. “Okay, you win. Yeah I like you, I have for a while now, you’re my best friend and you mean the world to me, but that’s all we ever were, best friends. How am I supposed to convince you to date me if everything goes wrong.”

“I wouldn’t date you if it all went right.”

“What?”

“We’ve been friends for years, Jae. You’re a hot mess and your dumb and silly and stupid and random and spontaneous. I like that, I’m similar, that’s why we became friends in the first place. If you went all soft and perfectly planned and roses and all that disgusting stereotypical stuff on me, I would hate it because it’s not you. Today wasn’t a disaster. You’re over there sulking and wanting to go home and I’m over here wanting to stay and being glad you called me out today.”

“So you’re saying if I asked you out right now, you’d say yes.”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t lie”

“Try me”

He kept opening and closing his mouth, like he didn’t really know what to say. You sighed and got out of the car. By the time you’d walked round to his side he was already out, looking at you confused.

You sat down on the hood and looked towards the sea. “Jae.”

“Y/N?”He replied taking a seat next to you.

“You know, at first when everyone keeps shipping you with your best friend, constantly asking if you’re actually dating, or dropping hints like ‘you guys are so cute together’ you think it’s weird and you always just brush it off. But after a while you start to think more about it, you start to think ‘what if’ or ‘does he actually like me?’, right? You experienced that too?”

“And then you start to realise that somewhere down the line that you actually fell for them?”

“Then we’re on the same page.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Oh.”

“So?”

“Oh my God I hate you, you’re so patronising.” He said, making you laugh.

“You love me.”

“I do.”

“Eww.”

He laughed at your typical response. “Shut up.”

The laugher cooled down and you were left sitting side by side staring at the sea. Jae eventually looked at you and cocked his head to the side.

“Y/N, will you date me?” He asked nervously.

“Of course, you stupid dork.” You replied as you looked up at him with a smile, leaning in to him and then setting your head on his shoulder. Jae let out a sigh of relief, resting his head atop yours and wrapping his arm around your waist. He looked out to sea with a smile and a slight blush on his cheeks.

#fanfic #jae #day6 #day6 jae #jae scenarios #jae fanfic #day6 scenarios #day6 fanfic #kpop scenarios #park jaehyung #jae park #day6 fanfiction #kpop fanfiction #kpop #jae fluff #day6 fluff

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unfortunatelysirius · 7 years

Text

The Prison I Call Home [Regulus Black - Marauders Era]

♥ PROMPT ♥ [Requested by sectumsempra-beaches] Helloooo!!! I was kinda wondering if you could do a Regulus Black x Hufflepuff!reader?? :p where She/He is friends with the Blacks since a young age (reader is of regulus's age) and when she/he goes to hogwarts she/he is torn between the two brothers. but then later on sirius gets to know about her/his crush on regulus and with the marauders' help tries to set the two up because "someone needs to pull regulus out of that insane prison I called home!" keep writing btw! I love your stuff!! <3 <3 ♥ A/N ♥ Words cannot describe how much I love this request. The Marauders Era is my FAVORITE era to write about. I adore everything about it, and Regulus deserved better. So, so, so much love for Regulus. Also, so sorry but I made the reader female instead of gender neutral! I find that I’m a better writer when I use third-person, haha, and I wanted to use a female reader as I myself am female. Anyways, thank you for the request, darling, and I hope I do it justice! And thank you so much; you’re too kind :) Have a great day, lovely! ♥ WARNINGS ♥ Swearing, Fluff, Angst ♥ WORD COUNT ♥ 2180

The L/N family had always been great friends with the Blacks. Y/N’s first memory regarding the Blacks was of Regulus, the youngest, defending her against his cousin Bellatrix when she shot a nasty jinx at her and called her a Squib. He was her age, and was an absolute sweetheart—though, his brother Sirius would definitely disagree. Y/N couldn’t remember a time when Regulus wasn’t around, protecting her from verbal onslaughts and physical attacks alike, or talking with her about the great things to occur when they went to Hogwarts.

“We’ll always be friends, won’t we, Reg?” she had asked the night before her eleventh birthday, giving Regulus a hopeful look. He smiled at her. It was this special smile, one he only ever reserved for her.

“Of course,” he’d told her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “Who else am I going to share Chocolate Frogs with?”

Sirius was always on her case, ranting on and on about how Regulus was a bad influence. He was completely adamant on believing that Walburga and Orion were going to have Regulus grow up to be a Death-Eater, one of Lord Voldemort’s servants. However, Y/N knew exactly the kind of person Regulus was—and he definitely was not a killer. He was just scared, a feeling that she knew all too well.

After Sirius went to Hogwarts, a letter was sent to the L/N house a week later to inform Y/N and her parents that he’d been sorted into Gryffindor. The letter was angry and long, and it scared Y/N half to death. Bellatrix and Narcissa were always teasing and taunting her, saying that Y/N was destined to be a Hufflepuff. Knowing the absolute fury Walburga planned to rage against Sirius the moment he returned home, Y/N was afraid that she awaited the same fate.

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” Y/N’s mother had said, clicking her tongue at the letter. “Poor Sirius.”

“I’m sure he’s to expect a Howler within a fortnight,” her father added. He turned to run a hand through Y/N’s hair, giving her a gentle, reassuring smile. “Times like this, I honestly don’t know what to think of Walburga.”

Though she still thought her parents to disown her, she went to Hogwarts and was sorted into Hufflepuff. Her parents hadn’t been the least bit surprised; they’d expected it, due to your shy, kind nature. Walburga and Orion weren’t supportive at all, but it wasn’t their child, so they kept their comments to themselves. Regulus was only disappointed that she was in a different house; he didn’t really care for her being in Hufflepuff, though he still made the occasional joke. He was never malicious though, unlike his cousins who decided to continue their teasing and taunting like the childish gits that they were.

Sirius was afraid for her. Though Y/N had never been close to him as she was with Regulus, Hogwarts changed that. He was just like Regulus—always challenging the arseholes that jinxed her and called her a “Mudblood stuck in a Pureblood’s body.” He was like the older brother she never had while Regulus was someone so much more than that. Still, she valued the two more than she cared to admit—but this ultimately led to her being torn between the two.

Y/N and Sirius became best friends, but she never once mentioned to him the love that she was slowly developing for his younger brother. Quite frankly, no one did—but she were perfectly content to revel in her silent feelings. Even when she drifted from him, even when he felt like she cared more for Sirius than him, she had to keep her feelings contained, quiet. She was afraid that Regulus would laugh in her face, thinking her fancy to be a gag.

However, neither Y/N or Regulus knew that Sirius was completely aware to both of their silent fancies. And he was going to get the two of them together if it was the last thing he did.

“It’s their sixth year, for Merlin’s sake,” he complained to James, Peter, and Remus, who were also completely aware of the two’s skinny love, “They should be confessing instead of behaving like a bunch of little shy gits.”

James was amused, but he himself was suffering through the same spell of lovey-dovey woe. “Mate, this isn’t any of our business. They’ll… eventually get it all out in the open.”

“What? When Regulus is already a Death-Eater and Y/N’s been killed by his lord?!” Sirius snapped, his fuse bursting into a shortage.

“You should calm down, Sirius. Like James said, we shouldn’t meddle in it,” Remus said meekly. He was just as aware of Sirius’s temper and he didn’t want to be at the receiving end.

Sirius gave the two a furious glare. “We are the meddling type! Everything’s our business!” he shouted. Peter, who sat in the corner nibbling on a Cauldron cake, jumped from the volume. “I just.. I know that Y/N’s been going through a rough time lately. She’d do with some happiness, and Regulus makes her happy.”

His friends were stricken speechless. They’d never seen Sirius so adamant on something. He was a compassionate fellow, but never to the point of wanting to do something kind for anyone that wasn’t a Marauder. The surprised looks on their faces was enough confirmation to Sirius on their agreement to the plan.

“Let’s get to it, then,” Sirius said determinedly. - - - - - - -

Y/N was busy scribbling away on an essay for Potions in the Hufflepuff common-room when Sirius, James, and Remus suddenly waltzed through the chamber-door. She looked at them, suspicion clear in her eyes upon seeing three of four Marauders at the door.

“Why are you here?” she asked, regarding them curiously. “You haven’t got some Professor chasing you, now do you?” When she’d given them the password the day before, she hadn’t expected them to come so soon. Y/N had been expecting Sirius to come alone, hooking up with some no-name girl in his year, but here he was with his Marauder-friends. What’s going on?

Sirius smiled and nudged James and Remus. They all took a seat, making it seem like a rather-creepy rendition of a black-and-white movie. Simultaneous, and choreographed to perfection. “We’ve come to see if you’d like to go to a party in the Room of Requirements tonight.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up before she glanced down to the pack of homework in her hands. Her eyebrows were knitted together when she glanced back up. “I’ve got quite a bit of homework,” she told them. “How long is the party?”

James now took the lead. He leaned forward, grinning at her like a crazed chipmunk. “Just an hour or two. It’s a small party.”

“Will Regulus be there?” she asked hopefully, looking between the Marauders.

James, ever-so-subtle, turned to look at Sirius and Remus. “This is going much better than I thought,” he said aloud. Sirius nudged him hard enough to leave a bruise, throwing him a deadly glare.

Y/N was confused. She looked to Sirius for an answer, but he simply shrugged. “You’re a Hufflepuff,” he said, like that was the answer to solve everything. “You and parties… don’t mix.”

“He’ll be there,” Remus said with a smile. “We already asked him.”

A smile lit up her face, and she looked to the floor, blushing lightly. “Well… that’s quite alright, then.”

“Starts at 8, love! Don’t be late,” James said, grinning madly. Sirius and Remus had to drag him back through the Hufflepuff common-room’s door, with several oblivious Hufflepuffs staring after them with wide eyes. Y/N was too caught up in a daydream about Regulus to bother seeing them off. - - - - - - - - -

At 8 o’clock sharp, Y/N was outside the wall leading to the Room of Requirements, dressed in a pair of flouncy trousers and a dark-blue blouse. The Marauders had forgot to inform her what to think of when outside the invisible door, so she decided to just stand there and wait for someone to come by.

“Sirius? James? Remus?” she called out after a while, hoping there’d be someone to hear her. “It’d be kinda nice if you finally opened the bloody door…” Already she was beginning to grow suspicious, wondering where the hell everyone was if this was meant to some sort of sodding party. Y/N was on the brink of just leaving to avoid the entire situation. Sirius could blow a bloody gasket sometime tomorrow, but now, Y/N was just so embarrassed—

A strangled yelp cut her from her own thoughts. She whirled around, looking in every direction for the source of the sound, but she couldn’t find anything. “Wicked,” she muttered, but it was anything but.

Suddenly, before she could investigate, she was being pulled backwards through a door that had just appeared. After gasping and screaming herself into a bloody hoarse daze, she came face-to-face with Sirius Black. She stared at him, first in shock and horror and then in confusion.

“Sirius?” she choked out. Behind him, she could see Regulus, tied-up and laying limply on the floor like a rag doll. Remus and James were beside him, one looking a little anxious to get the hell out of there and another grinning manically, like a bloody circus-clown. “What—”

James pulled out his wand and muttered something. A burst of water spurt from the face of the wand, hitting Regulus directly in the nose. He spluttered, wiggling around like a worm. His eyes squinted upwards after he gained his composure, and he gave James and Remus the side-eye. “What—the—bloody—hell?” he breathed.

“Well, we’ll leave the two of you to your devices,” Sirius said cheerfully, pushing you in Regulus’s direction. James and Remus came up beside him, and with a flourish of legs and arms, the three were gone. Y/N ran quickly to Reg’s side.

“Oh my gosh,” she said frantically. “They told me they were having a sodding party!” She started to untie the binds around his wrists.

Regulus raised his eyebrows at her. “You believed Sirius?”

Y/N flushed bright-pink. “…The argument was believable. They’re always having parties.”

“Do they ever invite you to these so-called parties?”

“Well, no—”

“Then why the hell did you believe him?”

Y/N’s cheeks grew even brighter. “Well, t-they told me something, and I... I guess that made me forget to be suspicious.” She’d said too much, she realized. To forget her ignorance, she quickly finished untying the rope, leaving Regulus to be free of the binds on his wrists and feet.

“You could have used your wand, you know,” Reg was quick to point out, and Y/N just waved that off. “And what do you mean by that? The hell did those idiots tell you?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she said quietly, biting her lip like some schoolgirl. Technically, she still was.

Regulus smiled at her, reaching out to poke her in the shoulder. “You know I would, Y/N,” he said. He sounded so genuine that she didn’t have the heart to lie to him anymore.

“Well, Reg, they, uh, said… that, well, y-you’d be there. And I was hoping you’d be there, and so I just kinda forgot about how weird it was to see them there in the Hufflepuff common-room, and I don’t know—” She cut herself off and looked to the floor, too embarrassed to continue. She felt Regulus shuffle closer, and before she could look up and burst into a string of apologies for her awkward confession, he lifted her chin to meet his gaze.

His eyes were softer than she’d ever seen, full of something that she couldn’t name. “Y/N, I know we haven’t been as close lately as we usually are, and I suppose I only have myself to blame. This past year or so, I’ve been having these… feelings, and they’ve made it so awkward and tense when we’ve hung around one-another. And, well, I’d say it’s because… I fancy you, Y/N.”

She never thought she’d hear those words from Regulus’s mouth. Never, in a million years. She thought he seen her as a little sister—but this… no, she could hardly believe this was happening.

“Oh, Regulus,” she said, nearly in tears. Before either could process what was happening, she went forward and slammed her lips onto his. She grabbed a hand of his hair while she was it.

It was like fireworks went off the moment her lips touched Reg’s. She went from feeling nothing but false hope to knowing they were soul-mates—feeling it in his kiss. She was so caught up in the love she felt for this boy that she didn’t even notice the three Marauders in the left corner of the room, under James’s invisibility cloak and watching the scene with a smile.

“Someone needs to pull Regulus out of that prison we call home, and she’s perfect for the task,” Sirius said. His best friends had no other choice but to wholeheartedly agree.

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mymarvelobsessions · 7 years

Text

Now or Never

masterlist

word count: 2.5k+

summary: Bucky x reader College AU. You and Bucky have been dating for a while, but things aren’t going so great. You love Bucky and want to make the relationship work, but does he?

warnings: light angst, fluff

a/n: This is my entry for @jurassicbarnes writing challenge! Happy Blog-Birthday💕 Based on the song Now or Never by Halsey. Btw this is my first fic ever! Also english isn’t my mother tongue, sorry for (m)any typos! Also, why am I doing this to myself? ~ “I love you.”, you say, exhaling softly and closing your eyes. You wait to hear if he says it back. He doesn’t.

Long after you have fallen asleep Bucky wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you close. “I love you, too.”, he whispers. But you can’t hear him.

Two days later:

You’re in your apartment, which you share with your best friend Natasha, working on your assignment. Or that’s what you should be doing. But really you are just waiting for Bucky to call you back. Which he hasn’t so far. You are used to it though. An hour truly isn’t much. For his standards that is.

It’s been two days since you have last seen Bucky and you made plans two have dinner tonight.

After another hour it happens. Your phone finally rings. As you hear the beginning tunes of ‘Viva la Vida’ your head immediatly perks up and a smile makes it’s way onto your lips. Nat sighs and shoots you a pityful glance.

But when you look down at your cell, it’s not Bucky calling. It’s Steve, his best friend.

You already know what is coming. Bucky has done this a thousand times, using Steve to cancel his plans with you. You really don’t know why Steve still puts up with this. But then again, so do you.

“Heey Steve.” You pick up the phone, your mood audible in your voice. On the other end you hear Steve sigh.

“I am sorry, Y/N. I really am.”, he says.

“You don’t need to be.” You swallow hard. You meant it. It’s not Steve’s fault.

“It’s just-”, Steve starts to explain, but you cut him off. “No need to make up excuses. I get it.”

“I don’t think you do.” You laugh. Now it is your fault, or what?

“Look, today is not a good day for Bucky.”

“And he can’t tell me that himself?”, you snap.

“Like I said, not a good day.”, Steve explains. “I GET IT.”, you yell. You immediatly feel sorry for screaming at Steve like that. He definitely did not deserve it.

“Sorry.” You take a deep breath. “Just…, tell Bucky…” You swallow. “Tell him it’s fine. And-” Hesitantly you finish. “Tell him I am here if he needs me.”

“I will.” ~ “Bucky, you need to stop avoiding Y/N. She doesn’t deserve it.”, Steve says, his eyes piercing through Bucky.

“I am not avoiding her.”, Bucky growels, his stare just as intense as Steve’s.

Steve snorts. “You’re not? Then why did I just call your girlfriend to tell her that you don’t have time for her?”

Sighing Bucky breaks his stare. “You know it’s not like that.”

Steve gets up from to couch to grab another beer from the fridge. “I know that, but does she?” He opens the fridge door, to realize that there is no beer left. Using slightly too much force he shuts the door and turns around to face Bucky again, leaning against the fridge. “You cannot keep pulling shit like this and expect her to stay.”

Bucky inhales deeply. “I am not sure I want her to stay.” ~ “You should break up with him.”, Nat says, as soon as you end the call.

“What?!” You just stare at her. She can’t honestly mean that. She knows how you feel about Bucky and how much he means to you.

“I know you love him, but you need to brace yourself for the possibility that he doesn’t feel the same way about you anymore.” She carefully meets your gaze.

But you are not ready for this. So you go back to working on your assignment that you couldn’t care about less. ~ What Natasha said doesn’t leave your thoughts the rest of the day. Even now, lying in your bed that’s awfully empty without Bucky there.

For a while you just stare at the white ceiling.

Maybe he doesn’t feel the same way about you anymore. You close your eyes, but you can’t stop the tears from falling. A sob escapes from your lips. You quickly cover your mouth with one hand, not wanting Nat to hear you cry.

You really don’t want her to be right, but can’t stop yourself from think ‘what if she is?’. Were two years all you would get with Bucky? There was a time where you actually thought he was the one. And you still do.

But being with someone does not fully commit to you, hell, who does not even make time to see you, is not the way to live.

How foolish of you to think that you could have it all. An apartment close to your dream college with your best friend, the perfect guy and a great relationship with him.

And Bucky was the perfect guy. Handsome with gorgeos blue eyes that you could stare at for hours, if he would actually spend time with you. The right amount smart and funny, you could joke with him just as well as you could have a serious conversation. If he would actually talk to you. He was just… a little damaged. Which was probably why he was ignoring you right now.

It wouldn’t be fair for you to leave him now, just because he was going through a hard time. After all he had been there for you. And that’s what you want. You want to be there for him. But he doesn’t let you. ~ All of a sudden you are pulled out of sleep, your face and pillow drenched in water.

Confused you look around for the reason you awoke and find Nat standing next to your bed with an empty glass in her hand. She freaking poured cold water on you.

Nat smiles apologetically and shrugs. “Get your ass out of bed. Now. We’re late.” And with that she leaves.

Groaning you hoist yourself out of bed. You roll your head to stretch your neck and lightly massage your shoulders.

You hadn’t slept well and now your whole body ached. ‘Good.’, you think. At least now your body matches your soul.

You don’t want to go to class today. You don’t feel well. ‘Not a good day.’, you think and laugh at yourself. But opposed to Bucky you really want to talk to him or just be close to him. A light sob comes out. You take a deep breath. No time to cry. ~ After a quick shower and a cup of coffee you already feel a little better. Well enough to tackle a day of college.

You still needed to speak to Professor Coulson about that assignment. Since you hadn’t gotten anything done yesterday, you doubt it would be finished by tomorrow. But maybe you could convince him to give you more time.

When you arrive you and Nat part ways and head to your lectures. You round the corner and find yourself face to face with non other than Bucky Barnes.

Though you had been wanting to see him for the past few days, now that you are standing in front of him you don’t know what to say.

You immediatly start to blush and turn around. You shouldn’t be embarassed. But you are. So you start walking back only to realize that you are late and you have to get to class. Even if that means having to face Bucky.

Apruptly you halt your steps. Inhaling deeply you gather the courage to turn around.

He is still there. Just standing there, staring at you. Why doesn’t he say something. He just looks at you with those blue eyes, the pain and sorrow visible in his gaze.

He does not look well. His skin pale as ever, dark blue bags under his truly beautiful eyes. Neither one of you moves. You want to. You want to run away. Turn around and never look back. You want to run into his arms. Wrap your arms around him and never let go.

“Aghm.” A cough pulls you out of your mind.

You both break your stare to find Steve, who just emmerged from the men’s bathroom, leaning awkwardly against the door, looking like wants to be anywhere but here.

“Sorry to interrupt your staring contest, but we are all late to Professor Coulson’s class.” ~ The short walk to the lecture hall was… uncomfortable, to say the least. Neither of you says a word. You wouldn’t know what to say or talk about anyway.

Now you are sitting in the second row, gaze fixed on Bucky’s brown hair in front of you. You can’t help but wonder if it is still as soft as always. You find yourself reaching out to touch it and quickly pull back your hand.

First you are late and now you cannot concentrate on what the Professor is saying. Great way to show Coulson you deserve more time.

“Now remember that essay we talked about is due ‘til tomorrow.” With that Professor Coulson dismisses the class.

You throw your notebook and pen into your bag, straighten out your skirt and make your way to the front.

“Y/N.” You hadn’t heard his voice in too long.

But you continue walking until you reach Professor Coulson’s desk.

“I wanted to- ahm- ask if- ahm- it would be possible to… maybe possibly hand in the essay the day after tomorrow?”, you stuttered, hands sweaty. Great, you couldn’t even form a coherent sentence.

“Are alright, Y/N?” Brows furrowed your professor watches you intently.

“It’s fine.” You brush a stray hair strand out of your face, twirling it as you do so. “I mean I am fine.” You swallow, masking up a smile that is so obviously fake you don’t even know why you tried. Dropping the smile, you knead your hands together, slightly cracking your knuckles.

“You have until Wednesday.”, Professor Coulon says, a small smile on his lips. “I hope you get better.” Leaning forward slightly he whispers: “I think James is waiting for you.”

You look over your shoulder and see Bucky, James, leaning casually against the front row table, hands in the pockets of his jeans, gaze focused on the floor as if he was looking for for something. Right in that moment he looks up and his gaze meets yours. His lips curve up just the tiniest bit.

“Thank you, Professor.”, you say, before turning fully.

You start to walk towards Bucky, aware of every single stept you make. It feels like you have forgotten how to walk properly.

Bucky’s gaze never leaves you and that is part of the problem. The 5m from Coulson’s desk to the front row feel like 5km.

Too soon you reach Bucky and look up at him, now standing in his full height, hands leaving his pockets to hang awkwardly at his side.

His right hand slowly begins to lift and you lift yours to meet his in a very odd handshake.

“I was going for a hug, but I guess this is fine as well.”, he mumbles, gaze dropping to the floor again.

A nervous giggle escapes your lips. You let go of his hand, which you hadn’t noticed you were still holding, and wrap your arms around his waist, before you can think twice about it.

It feels so familiar. And good. It feels so good.

You rest your head on Bucky’s chest. You can hear his heart beating. Fast and hard.

He puts one hand on the back of your head, the other on the small of your back and pulls you impossibly closer.

“I missed you.”, he whispers, mouth grazing your ear.

Don’t you dare say something. Don’t you dare ruin this moment. But then you have never been the type to keep your mouth shut.

“You don’t have to.” You say quietly, head still pressed against his chest. “I am here. And will always be.”

Carefully you look up at his face, not sure if you whether you want to see his reaction.

His teeth are clenched together, lips pressed into a fine line, jawline more visible than usual.

When he sees that you are looking at him, his lips form into a tight lipped smile. “I know baby, I know.” He presses his lips to your forehead in a soft kiss.

You move your hands from his waist to the sides of his face and raise to the tips of your toes to place a kiss on Bucky’s lips.

All of a sudden you hear the door shut. “Oh, you are still here.”, Coulson says, scratching his head. “Sorry to interrupt, but the next class starts in 5 minutes.” He walks over to his desk and sets his bag and a fresh, still steaming cup of coffee on it. “You might want to go somewhere… more private.”

Startled the two of you break apart. Keeping your head down you rush out of the room, mumbling “Sorry.” as you do. Bucky is right behind you, following your every step. ~ “Soo…” You come to a stop in front of a bank on campus. You sit down and pat the spot next to you, motioning Bucky to sit down, too. “Are we gonna talk about what happened?”

“What do you mean?”

You laugh. “Oh come on!” You stare at him, probably not looking as scary or threatening as you think.

“Don’t pretend you haven’t been avoiding me for the past two days!” Your voice comes out louder than intended. You cover your face with your hands, elbows resting on your knees. “I know you are going through a hard time, but… you could have at least texted.” The last part sounds more like a sob than anything else. At this point you are trying very hard to hold back the tears.

Bucky tears your hands away from your face. He grips your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. “I- I shouldn’t have done that.” He lets go of your face and looks down at his shoes.

Not being able to stop yourself, you brush his hair away from his face and behind his ear.

“It’s fine.” You try to reassure him. And maybe yourself. “Really, it’s fine. I am used to it.” At that you just have to laugh. You are actually used to your boyfriend ignoring you.

Said boyfriend’s head snaps in your direction. Wiggling closer, he puts his hand your thigh.

“You shouldn’t be. I shouldn’t-” He looks down at his hand that’s now drawing small circles. “I shouldn’t treat you like this.” His gaze wanders before settling down on yours.

“I am finally in my right mind. I love you, Y/N, and I need you. I have to stop pushing you away.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I was just so afraid. Still kinda am. It’s been so long since I- since I felt this way for someone.” He smiles. Not a small or tight lipped smile, but a genuine one.

A tear falls from your left eye. And that’s enough to break the damm. All the tears you had been holding back stream down your face and soon you’re leaning against Bucky’s shoulder, sobbing uncontrolably.

“Why are you crying?”, he asks, rubbing your shoulder soothingly. “I just told you I love you.” You can basically hear the giant smile on his face.

“Exactly!” ~ As Steve opens the front door to his and Bucky’s apartment he can already hear you giggling. Smiling he steps inside.

You are lying on the couch, head in Bucky’s lap, his hands gently stroking your hair.

“What are you watching?”, Steve asks as he examines the TV.

“Captain America.”, Bucky says, not looking up.

Giggling you point at the TV. “He looks so much like you, Steve!” ~ FIN ❤

a/n: Can u tell I never learned where to put commas. All any of my english teachers ever said was: u don’t have to put as many commas as in German ‘cause there are literally like 10000 comma rules in German. Also I hope someone actually reads this hahaha if you read this pls let me know what you think kay?

#manuswritingchallenge #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader au #marvel au #mcu fic #bucky barnes x you #my writing #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #winter soldier

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probably-singing-somewhere-blog · 7 years

Text

Markers - Rich x Reader

[ Markers - Rich x Reader { BMC } ]

[ Request: Anon

“:0 you take requests, right? maybe a lil fic (or headcanons if you want!!) with rich if thats cool??? like, maybe post squipcident and he meets reader and the two of them are kinda crushing on each other and maybe a lil confession eventually??? its fine if you dont wanna write it btw!! do what you can bb <333″ ]

[ Words: 1,521 ]

[ T/W: Crying...? Soft Rich~ ]

[ A/N: First request! Ahhh, I’m so sorry this is all over the place and late, but I hope you enjoy! Also, Anon? You’re super awesome, thanks for being my first! Also, thanks for requesting Rich, lil bean doesn’t get enough lovin’. ]

Rich couldn’t help but smile at your face from a distance away.

You were currently immersed in trying to find the sketchbook that would be just right. This usually happened twice a year for you, the rest of the times that you came here were to buy new supplies or simply draw. The aura with all the people here was a calm and relaxing one, making it a perfect place to practice and work your magic.

“Hey, yo, R!” The short boy stumbles a bit, snapping his head over and looking at his best friend, Jake. He couldn’t help but smirk slightly when he began to see Rich’s face turn from its usual, confident look into a nervous half-smile. Looking over at where the other was looking, he notices that he was staring at Y/N. Again.

“Rich for the last time, you have got to stop staring at Y/N! You’re going to come off as a creep, you know that?” Jake whispers to him. Rich bows his head down a bit, biting his lip as he rubs the back of his neck. He seriously didn’t know what to do, it was the first time the male’s heart was set in motion just by looking at a person. Talking to Y/N? It was a whole other level. He could barely make out a sentence without stuttering and making a fool of himself, his face turning a dark red every single time.

So to avoid all of that, he would just observe from his little watch tower; stay in his cocoon and not risk talking to you; Something that was different from his loud, chatty personality. Rich shakes his head a bit, the red streak of hair flopping onto his forehead as he looks up at Jake, who was shaking his head.

“Goodness, you know, you’re not going to get Y/N by just staring at them! You gotta, you know, make a move! Use that confident brain of yours and talk to them!” Rich gulps, looking over at Y/N as they began going down the stairs to pay for their sketchbook. Jake did have a point, he wasn’t going to get them if he just stood on the sidelines. Then again...maybe you’d notice him first and then he wouldn’t have to make a move on you so qui-

“They could end up with someone else, Rich. You don’t want that, now do you~?” The love struck boy’s coffee colored orbs widen as he comes upon that reality.

Someone else could be yours.

Someone else could love you.

Someone else could do whatever they wanted to do with Y/N.

And that someone else wouldn’t be him.

His whole world stops for a moment, taking his time and giving in a few shaky breaths. Rich’s pale arms twitch as he tells himself to calm down, looking at your figure that was still downstairs. You’re beautiful, wonderful, sweet self. It would take him forever to describe you, what you do to him. Looking up at Jake, he smirked with pride, his usual self flowing out brightly.

“I’ll do it.”

Jake claps his hands together, cheering as he pats the smaller head. He complains a bit at this, though he didn’t mind because he was finally going to do it. He was going to ask out the person of his dreams to be with him.

Rich could hear a few cheers from upstairs as he descends downwards, approaching your body with a nice stride, perfect posture. Watching you from a ways away, he looks at how your grimace at the price of the markers. The markers that he always heard you talk about from the other side of math.

You were standing with Christine and her boyfriend, Jeremy. They’d been together for a few months now, and currently, you were ranting as if you were Alexander Hamilton. If someone recorded what you were saying, they’d be writing 51 essays.

“UGH! Guys, you seriously don’t understand how much I practically need these markers! They’re like, the best markers ever! One costs freaking five dollars, and a set?! 100! I’m never getting them…” They pat your back and try to cheer you up, though Rich just stared at you in curiosity.

‘Markers..? Right! Y/N is really into art!’ That was what sparked the idea to follow you a week afterwards, landing him here, in his current situation.

“H-hey! Y/N! Whatcha lookin’ at?” You turn around and look at Rich, your lips tugging at the corners of your mouth as you wave.

“Ahh, nothing much. Just some markers that I’m saving up for. What are you doing here?” He mentally slaps himself, thinking quickly of a reason that would make sense for him to be here. In the seconds he was thinking, you notice how his face turns a soft pink, he way he bites his lip as Rich usually does when thinking. You can’t help but smile wider as you watch him. Truth behold, you were in love with the cute shortie, but you believed that he was too popular to like someone like yourself.

“I was just l-looking for a present-t!” Rich stammers, his shiny orbs drowning with a look of defeat. You were going to most likely start asking questions to him, such as for who and who it was, since no one from school really was interested in drawing like you.

Y/N takes a different turn though, pointing to the package and nodding their head. It was probably one of the freshmen kids birthdays, Rich being friends with a few who were on the basketball team. Sighing, they smile.

“Well, Rich, I’d say you should get some markers like these! These are perfect for anyone who likes art, such as myself, though I’m not able to afford them yet…” Rich notices the way your face saddens, the way your beautiful lips formed into a pout, making yourself look very cute as his face goes from the soft pink to a blood red.

“A-ahh! Y/N! Don’t get upset, I can, um, I’ll buy them for you!”

Silence wiggled its way between the two of you. Rich slowly goes onto his tip toes, reaching up and grabbing the clear plastic box filled with the rainbow of colors. You follow his every move, gazing at the box, then slowly tilting your head back up a bit so you could look at a different side of him. His pale face was reserved, a subtle smile on his lips as he begins motioning you to follow behind him.

You were practically hypnotised, walking behind him as he pulled out his debit card and paid for the markers. He puts them in your hands with a smile, nodding his head happily. Rich seemed satisfied, feeling confident as he had finally wooed a girl without the help of his squip. Y/N’s face was blank as she stares at the markers.

And that was when the waterworks began.

“R-rich?! N-no way, you didn’t have to- I just- Thank you!” You ramble out as you collapse him in a quick hug, blushing as he gives a small gasp. He wasn’t prepared for you to land into his arms, nor knowing how exactly to hug you back. So what did the little twinky do? He slowly wrapped his small arms around your waist, pecking at your forehead.

There was a moment where the world stopped for him, his dirt brown eyes widening as he looks back at you, running a even more shaky hand through his hair, the fire red tip falling onto his face as the rest stayed out. He mumbles something inaudible to himself, stomping his foot on the ground. Rich shouldn’t have made a move so quickly, you seemed like the type that wanted to build up to a relationship and now maybe he ruined his chance just like he ruined everything.

Sadly for him, Y/N was watching this all unfold, hearing the last sentence he said, which he unconsciously said out loud. Y/N sighed, looking at him as they simply watched him, a bit unsure of what just happened, but whatever it did, it made their heart beat fast, maybe even out of their chest if this kept up.

“Hey, Rich, calm down for a sec, alright?” He pauses and looks at you, tilting his head slightly as he puffs up his pink cheeks. Your S/C hands took him by his tank top and pulled him gently closer. They smile as they move his red piece out of his forehead for a moment, only to see it flop down again. She giggles and he pouts but looks away, embarrassed and excited to be in your arms.

“Stay still and be quiet, enjoy this moment for a bit, alright?” Rich was opening his mouth, about to interject before you forcefully put your lips on his. He practically melts, his eyes fluttering before falling closed. It was a minute before you two stopped, a small smirk on your face.

“You know, you aren’t the only one who’s in love.”

[ Ahhh...I’m expecting a bunch of hate...but I tried my best...h-hope you all like it? Anyways! It’s ten PM over here and I most likely am going to get some shut eye, or maybe make another horrible piece of trash. Anyways! You’re awesome, have a lovely life!

~ Min ]

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missjugheadjones · 7 years

Text

When I Look At You

Word Count: 2024

A/N: This is a song lyric inspired fiction... type thing?? I'm not good with fiction terminology, if that's even a thing haha oops. It's based off 'When I Look At You.' By Miley Cyrus. Anyways I love this so much actually :D If any of you want to send me requests I would love to take them, and I'd love to know what you think of my writing! Part 4 of Jealousy will be out soon btw! Much love <3

Everybody needs inspiration

Everybody needs a song

A beautiful melody,

For when the nights are long.

'Cause there's no guarantee

That this life is easy.

You sat in the diner by yourself, staring down at your laptop. It was midnight, and although you weren't exactly supposed to be there, you needed to get out of the hell hole that was your house. It had just been constant fighting between your mom and dad. Although they were divorced, they were still forced to live with eachother until your mom got back on her feet. Their constant yelling and screaming at eachother were bad, but not as bad as your depression and anxiety that had been acting up lately. It was bad, and there seemed to be nothing anyone could do about it. So here you sat, trying to write some stupid paper about 'how far would you be willing to go to find the truth' but nothing was coming to mind except the shit show that was your life. You had no inspiration, no motivation, and honestly you just wanted to cry. Just as you decided it was time to give up, a familiar pair of arms wrapped around your waist. You turned to face Jughead, and he gave you a small smile, and you attempted to return it, but he could tell something was off.

"What's wrong?" he lightly questioned, and you leaned into him, enjoying the feeling of peace while it lasted.

"Nothing anymore." you whispered, only wanting him to hear you, not that there was anyone else in the diner. He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck.

"Bullshit. Please tell me what's up." he mumbled against your skin. You grabbed one of his hands that held tight on your waist and he rubbed small circles on it.

"I'm stressed because of my parents, I feel like absolute depressed and anxious garbage, and I don't know what to write for my damn essay. But none of that matters now, you're here." he squeezed you tighter with one arm, he and used the other one to open your laptop.

"We can deal with everything else later, because I can't allow that. But first, Let's see what we're working with..." he said, opening word. "How far would you be willing to go to find the truth.." You stared at the screen, just looking at the blank page made you want to scream and throw your laptop in a blender. "Write about Jason Blossom and his death." Jughead suggested, and you perked up, an idea forming in your head. Jughead was on the search for truth, and he so far had gone to great lengths for it.

"Or even better, I could write about you trying to find the truth about his murder." you said, quickly typing. Jughead watched as words flew across the digital page. He took in every detail of you in this moment, your fingers as they typed, how you bit your lip in concentration, even how your hair fell down across your face and you didn't even bother moving it because you were so in the zone. He wondered if this is what you felt like when you watched him write. You turned your head and kissed him.

"My inspiration." You mumbled against his lips.

Yeah when my world is falling apart

When there's no light to break up the dark

That's when I look at you.

When the waves are flooding the shore

And I can't find my way home anymore,

That's when I look at you.

"I can't do this anymore Jughead!" you yelled, collapsing onto the ground. It was becoming harder to breathe, and your vision was blacking out. Everything around you was blurry, the tears in your eyes distorting everything you looked at.

" Y/N please listen to me, everything is going to be okay!" he said tenderly, trying to not let his worry show. He grabbed your shoulders and he looked you in the eyes, his heart breaking as he saw the tears flow out of them. "Listen, I want you to breathe."

"I can't!" you cried, shaking your head.

"Yes you can, please Y/N. Just try." he was doing his best to stay calm, but seeing you like this tore him apart.

"What's the point Jughead! I can't do this anymore, I have no reason to!" you sobbed.

"Y/N you have me!" he yelled.

"You could do so much better, you'll find so much better and you'll leave and I'll be completely alone!" you bitterly yelled. Y/N looked at him, and started to cry even harder.

"Juggie I'm so sorry, please don't cry!" she sobbed. Jughead hadn't even noticed that tears were rolling down his face, and Y/N had never really seen him cry before. Sure she saw a tear or two every once in a while, but never this many. Her chest got tight and her heart shattered. Jughead pulled her into his chest, and they held eachother.

"I could never do better than you." he whispered, rubbing circles on her back. She held onto him tighter, wanting nothing more to make him stop crying. She could feel his tears fall onto her shoulder. "It's you who could do so much better, I'm not good enough for you Y/N, I-"

"Forsythe don't even say that! I love you more than anything in this world, you make me feel less broken and alone and I don't know what I'd do without you." she whispered.

"You do the same for me." he said, kissing her forehead. You make me feel whole."

"Juggie, I know now that my home isn't a place, my home is you." she smiled up at him. He leaned down and kissed her, cupping her face.

"You're my home too, Y/N." he leaned his forehead against hers, and smiled back down at her.

When I look at you,

I see forgiveness,

I see the truth.

You love me for who I am.

Like the stars hold the moon.

Right there where they belong,

And I know I'm not alone.

"I'm sorry." Y/N whispered, standing by Jugheads locker at school. He crossed his arms and stared at her.

"You're in my way." he said coldly, although it killed him to talk to her like that. She stepped away from the locker, and he turned his back to her and opened it up. Rummaging through his backpack for his math notebook he did his best to ignore Y/N behind him, no matter how badly he wanted to kiss her and hold her.

"Juggie can we please talk about this?" she asked.

"Don't call me that." Y/N felt tears stinging in her eyes.

"Jughead please!" she begged, and Jugheads heart broke at the sound of her voice. He turned around and saw a tear roll down her face.

"Okay! We can talk if you stop crying." he said, closing his locker and pulling her into the nearest janitor closet. The door closed behind him and he looked down at her.

"Jughead I'm sorry! I know that you feel like I'm lying because I have things to hide from you and that I'm distancing myself because you think I'm going to leave you but that's not the case! Things at home are getting worse and... I was scared to tell you what was going on." Jughead looked at her worryingly.

"What do you mean? What's going on?" he asked, stepping towards her.

"They... they kicked me out Jughead." she started to sob, and she wrapped his arms around her. "I'm homeless and I'm alone and maybe I deserve it. Maybe I don't deserve a home and a family, I'm just a big problem!"

"No you aren't." he whispered, rubbing her back. "And you aren't alone, you'll never be alone. Come stay with me." He said.

"What?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Come live with me." he said again, smiling down at her.

"Where do you live?" she asked, a bit of excitement present in her voice.

"Don't tell anyone, but I live at the Twilight Drive-In." he whispered, and she stares up at him in shock. He laughed and pulled her towards him again.

"You wouldn't want to live with me." she said. "I dance around too much and sing off key, I eat way too much and I yell at the screen while I watch movies and tv even though they can't hear me! I sleep all day or I lay in bed and watch YouTube and I talk in my sleep-"

"I already know, and I think it's adorable." he said, cutting her off. "You're perfect to me Y/N, and if your parents don't want you then I'll sure as hell take you."

"Oh Jughead..." Y/N fought back tears, but for a different reason this time. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely." Jughead said, grabbing her hand.

You appear just like a dream to me,

Just like kaleidoscope colours that cover me

All I need, every breath that I breathe

Don't you know you're beautiful?

"I swear Y/N, if you don't give me back my beanie-"

"What are you going to do?" Y/N interrupted him, giving a smirk.

"I'm going to do...." Jughead trailed off, trying to think of a punishment for the (y/h/c) girl standing on the bed smiling down at him. "This." he said, running towards the girl. He jumped up on the bed and tackled her, pinning her underneath him.

"Sucks to be you." she said, grinning ear to ear. Jughead looked around for the beanie, but couldn't see it anywhere . He looked down at Y/N and she giggled.

"Where is it?" he asked.

"That's on a need to know basis, and I'm sorry, but you don't need to know." she said.

"Actually, I think I do. That's my beanie." he playfully argued.

"Actually, you don't." she laughed, trying to mimic his voice.

"Y/N, please!" He begged. Y/N attempted to sit up, but couldn't. She fell back down on the bed, and Jughead gave his best puppy dog eyes and stuck out his bottom lip.

"Is Jughead Jones giving me puppy eyes right now?" Y/N laughed. Jughead rolled his eyes and sighed. He leaned down and fell onto Y/N, now laying on her. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, and she kissed him on the forehead.

"I think you'll be okay without it for one day." she said. Jughead groaned, and it tickled Y/ns neck.

"I won't be though! I feel like I look like an idiot without it. Not that I look any better usually." he said, raising his head so he was looking at her.

"Um, no." she quickly sat up, pushing Jughead up too.

"No what?" he asked, confused by her sudden change in behavior. He sat on the edge of the bed, and pulled Y/N onto his lap.

"You never look like an idiot. You're adorable." Y/N said in a very serious tone.

"Not exa-" Jughead was cut off by a kiss. He pulled back, and looked up at the girl on his lap. "What was that?" he asked.

"What I'm not allowed to kiss my boyfriend?" Y/N teased an he chuckled.

"No, I mean-" again he was cut off with another kiss.

"You're so handsome Jughead." she mumbled against his lips. He pulled back again and stared at Y/N, and she admired his sweet smile plastered on his face. His hair was messed up, wild and free from his beanie, and the setting suns light shone through the window, lighting the room up beautifully. Y/N felt like she was in a dream, and if it was one she hoped she'd never wake up. He reached up and cupped her face, and she leaned into it.

"How did I ever get so lucky to have you?" Jughead asked softly.

"I could ask you the same thing." she said, leaning down to kiss him again.

"I love you, Y/N."

"And I love you, Forsythe." she whispered.

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iannoyinglysweetstudent-blog · 6 years

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Whats the best practical car or van insurance wise for a banned driver?

"Whats the best practical car or van insurance wise for a banned driver?

I was banned from driving due to a dr10 conviction and rest assured i have heartedly learned my lesson from this experience. My question is im looking to get my life back on track and so was wondering if anyone would know whats the cheapest practical car or van insurance wise for say if i wanted to start a buisness or just best overall. When i say practical i mean at least something that could pull a trailer as i e been told a 1400cc would be inadequet. Im 22 with no no claims bonus so i know its gonna be hard but any info appreiciated. Please no lectures i know what i did was a stupid incident but i truly have learned from it.

BEST ANSWER: Try this site where you can compare quotes: : http://averageinsurancecost.xyz/index.html?src=tumblr