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timetoletmyimaginationfly · 17 days

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Our Love Story

Nanami Kento x Reader

Part 6: Not Like The Others

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

(Song Inspiration: Photograph by Ed Sheeran)

It was a beautiful Friday night. Nanami was at home, finally having the time to read a book from his to-be-read list. He had a cup of hot tea by him with his phone close by. Even though it was late, he patiently stayed up and waited for you to come over since your friends wanted to go out and drink.

He remembered lying down in bed with you last week at his place. He was reading his book while you were studying for an upcoming midterm. While studying and reading, you spoke about your friends wanting to go out to the club. Your Friday finally aligned with theirs and he encouraged you to spend time with them.

“Kento-kun! You don’t mind right?” you asked. “I won’t be out too late. And I won’t even drink!” Nanami kissed your forehead, hoping he gave you the reassurance that he wouldn’t mind.

“Darling, you can go out and drink to your heart’s content,” he said. “And you can stay out as late as possible.” You looked at him with big eyes, surprised at his response.

“You-You mean it?” you asked. Nanami nodded.

“You’re surprised,” he stated. You nodded. He watched you stare blankly ahead from behind him. Before he got a chance to bring you back to reality, you looked up at him and smiled.

“I’ll at least be home at a reasonable time,” you said softly. Nanami kissed your lips.

“Come home when you’re done having fun. Just come back home to me,” he said.

“Okay.”

It was now past 2 in the morning. You left since 9PM and every half hour to an hour, you would text him how you were. And every text message shows how drunk you were becoming. He couldn’t help but chuckle. He wonders if you were a light weight. If you were more hyper or solemn when you drink. He never had an opportunity to have a drink with you yet since the two of you have busy schedules.

His cell phone suddenly rang. He immediately picked his phone up.

“Sweetheart? Is everything okay?”

“Oh she’s okay!” Hana, your close friend, answered. “You don’t mind texting your address. She won’t stop crying.”

“Did she get hurt?” he asked worriedly.

“Umm she’s scared that you’re mad at her,” she answered slowly. “You’re not, right? Because—“

“I’m not angry,” he said. He can hear Hana tell you that he isn’t mad. He heard your sniffles from the background. He took the opportunity to quickly send your phone the location.

“Oh! Thank you, Kento-san,” Hana said.

“Stop crying! He’s not mad!” he heard Keiko yell.

“Now you’re mad!” you exclaimed.

“You need to get this resolved. You never cried before,” Yumi muttered but he had heard.

“Hana-san, can I talk to her?” Hana asked you if you wanted to talk to Nanami. He heard a no from you which made him frown. He could hear the sadness in your voice. And all he wants to do is to hold you tightly in his arms. Hana nervously chuckled.

“I’m sorry, Kento-san. We’ll be there soon.”

“Thank you.”

He waited for another 20 minutes for you to come back. Hana, Keiko, and Yumi were with you as you leaned against Hana. You thanked them before stumbling your way inside.

“Can you girls give me your number and let me know that you got back safely?” he asked. The girls blushed and immediately exchanged numbers. Nanami thanked them again and watched them enter the elevator before closing the door. When he closed the door, he watched you stumble into the couch. You were eerily quiet, making him feel uncomfortable. He can feel your tension.

“Sweetheart?” Nanami walked to you and sat down. You were hugging her knees, your face buried in your arms.

“I’m sorry. I lost track of time,” you said. “And when this guy started to dance with me, I did leave and danced with Yumi. I didn’t do anything wrong.” Nanami frowned. You looked small in his eyes. A completely different person than how you usually are. He slowly placed his hand on your shoulder. When he did, you flinched.

“Sweetheart.” He felt his heart break. You were scared of his touch.

“I wanna be alone, please,” you said, letting your tears fall.

“Stay in the bedroom, sweetheart.” You shook your head. “For me? Please?” His plea sounded vulnerable. He sounded as sad as you were, so you agreed. You slowly stood up from the couch and walked to the bedroom. Nanami followed you, just so you wouldn’t fall and get hurt.

“Kento-kun,” you called.

“Yes darling?” You couldn’t help but smile. He is being patient and calm. You turned around.

“Thank you. And goodnight.” You leaned up and kissed his cheek softly. “And I’m sorry if I’m bitchy in the morning.” Nanami softly chuckled and captured your lips.

“Goodnight sweetheart. Sweet dreams. Wake me up if you need anything. I won’t mind.” You nodded, feeling unsure about it.

It was the next morning. You woke up groaning with a headache. You looked at the clock sitting on the night table. It was already noon. Your eyes widened and you sat up.

“Ouch,” you muttered. You then noticed the glass of water and painkillers sitting next to the digital clock. You smiled and took it, praying for the headache to leave. You took the covers off of you and found yourself wearing your clothes from last night. You felt gross and have the immediate urge to shower. You hope the shower would help with the hangover.

When you left the bedroom, the apartment was quiet. You walked around and found a note on the kitchen island.

I’ll be back in about an hour, sweetheart. I went to the store.

Love, Kento.

You smiled and placed the note back on the counter before heading to the shower.

By the time you got out and changed, Nanami returned with bags in his arms. Your eyes widened and you quickly ran to him and grabbed a couple of bags off his arms.

“Thank you, my dear,” he said.

“You’re welcome.”

“How’s the hangover? Did the painkillers help?”

“I’m feeling better every minute,” you answered. “Thank you.” Nanami smiled and kissed your forehead.

“Anything for you.” It was silent when you two were putting the groceries away. You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed from last night.

“Kento-kun,” you called, putting the last of the groceries in the fridge. “About last night…”

“You don’t have to—“ He stopped when you shook your head and walked to the couch. Nanami followed you, sitting closely next to you. You crossed your legs on the couch and faced him.

“My last relationship ended a year ago before I met you. He was in my high school. Outgoing guy, popular, smart, and very sweet. I wasn’t the popular type, but people knew me. I was failing physics so he tutored me and we grew to like each other and we became a popular couple,” you explained. “The end of our junior year we started dating. He was my first everything, except for sex which I’m so happy I didn’t lose my virginity to that fucking asshole.” Your language surprised him. You avoided his gaze, missing the blush in his face. You mentally want to slap yourself for even letting out the last information to him.

“The first half of the year was great. The honeymoon phase. But as time went on, there were signs I never noticed. He was becoming controlling. Controlling with what I wear, who I’m with, and what I do along with where I go.” You swallowed a large lump in your throat, to avoid the tears that wanted to leave your eyes. “He gets so angry when I do things that he didn’t like.”

“Did-Did he hit you?” His voice was sharp yet calm when he asked. His eyes never left you. He felt anger rise when you nodded. “Did you have a hard time leaving him?”

“Mentally but I did it,” you said. “I never got to go out and spend time with my friends since you and I became official. I never knew what to expect. But I should’ve known that you’d be okay with it because you said so and you always go by your word. However, that fear overwhelmed me.”

“Sweetheart? Please look at me.” Slowly, you did. And when you did, you let your tears fall. Your body trembled and Nanami enveloped you in his arms, holding you tightly to him. You silently cried with your face buried in his chest. “I will prove to you that I will never ever do that to you.” You nodded. “I promise. I promise you.”

“Okay,” you said softly. You pulled away slightly to look at him and gave him a small smile. Nanami wiped your tears.

“You’re so lovely,” he said. You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “I’m gonna protect that sweet heart of yours.”

“You’re so corny! But it’s very sweet. I needed it.”

“If it helps you, then I can always be corny for you,” he said a little shyly. You giggled.

“Just you being you makes me happy.”

“So, you’re a virgin?” You made a face.

“Aren’t you?”

“Touché.”

#nanami x reader #nanami x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk x you #jjk x reader #nanami jjk #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami kento #jujutsu nanami #jjk nanami #nanami fanfic #nanami #nanami fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff #jjk comfort

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facepalming-since-chernobyl · 8 months

Note

https://twitter.com/leighlew3/status/1693078222387237348?t=DCr65FGYuIeCt7I6KhiF7g&s=19

I know you won't look at it, but basically it's the same thing about how we can't say it wasn't queerbait because of Dansen. And even adding in a subsequent tweet (post?) that Kelly wasn't even a real character.

Now, I will admit that Kelly wasn't given much beyond being Alex's partner, but that doesn't mean she wasn't important.

And no, maybe Dansen getting married doesn't replace any other rep they could have put on the show, but as we keep saying, SC never so much as held hands, so a bunch of 'parallels' and 'how they looked at each other' aren't going to help your case.

If fully half your case is built on fan interpretation, you already lost the argument.

A few things.

First of all, all the members of the crew always called Kara and Lobotomizer sisters and friends.

When the cast sang a song on SDCC17 about Kara and Lobotomizer being "just friends", and I don't know what CLEARER and bolder message they could have sent, the sc shippers called them homophobic and created a whole hate campaign against them and the show, moaniang about being disrespected and their feelings being hurt.

Then you can find countless posts and twitts celebrating about how Melissa and McG did some "acting choices" (Kara leaned and shit like that) that were against writers and producers wishes. So, they basically say the actresses were baiting them AGAISNT what was planned and that's ok, I guess. But in the same time, they will go against the writers, screaming about baiting what is an interesting case of schizophrenia.

And yes, you can have a lgbt+ ship and still being queerbaited, I guess, but there is a problem in SG.

Because Alex's arc was heavily focused on her realizing she is a lesbian and her journey to accept it and find love. Her story was full developed from season 2 to the final ep, when she married the love of her life and adopted a child.

That was a beautiful and complexed lesbian character's story not some forced, ambiguous, developed only in some people's minds bullshit, that has zero real recognition and is not a representation.

What is worse, Alex and Dansen were completly IGNORED by scs, self-called fighters and supporters of representation is shows, and it was fuckingly obvious after the last ep, where instead of supporting dansen for the GREATER lgbt good, they decided to overshadow it with some fake two white women kiss.

And don't even let me start about what they have done to Dreamer and Nicole along the way.

What i want to say is, that SCS care about representation only when it's the representation THEY want. They don't and never did care even slightly about the rep. Them claiming they were queerbaited is only one of the many forms of manipulation they spread.

The only people who queerbaited them are scs themselves. With their idiotic, out of context scenes (let's just cut out Alex from the frame, let's make it slower and let's ignore it was all about Lobotomizer saving James' ass), so called parallels (Kara holding people bridal style means it's love? cool, it means she is in love with 30 people, Kelly included), some wierd shit (rainbow socks that were not even rainbow and even if Kara was not straight it would not immediatelly mean she would want to be with Lobotomizer -who, friendly remidner, hurt her every way imaginable and was her biggest abuser - facts, not delusion) ignoring what the characters and crew said ("they are sisters and friends") and in the same time accusing actresses of queerbait (acting choices! but it's ok, because it was KMcG doing. And Melissa's) and in the same time bashing Melissa EVERY time she said something against their wishes.

UGH.

#anons #anti sc #anti sc fandom

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hummingbird-of-light · 9 months

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Against All Odds

Part 647

McCoy

The last person who’d ever hit him that hard in the stomach had been Leah when they were young. The memory of Leah’s face then came up unbidden to McCoy’s mind as he tried to bend from the second hit.

Pete’s voice was loud in his ear and Scotty’s screams were muffled. McCoy brought his eyes up and saw the panic in his fiancé’s face.

“If they find out you touched me,” McCoy managed. “It’s over for you.” His voice was weak, trying to get his breath back.

The other boys just laughed.

“You think you can just hide behind that title,” Pete sneered. “You think you can do anything you want because of it. Well, you can’t.”

McCoy’s teeth clenched as Pete’s fist got him once again in the stomach. He slipped on the wall as he was suddenly let go. Coughing again, McCoy let himself slide to the floor.

“You’ve been warned,” Pete said above him. “Come on.” He gestured to his friends, who let go of Scotty, and began to leave.

“Leannan…” McCoy got out. Scotty looked furious, but was at his side in an instant.

“We’ve got—”

“No.”

Scotty looked at him incredulously.

“But Len—!”

McCoy shook his head, as he wiped at his face. “No,” he said more firmly.

“What’s going on here?”

Both boys looked up in surprise as Mr. Archer came around the corner. McCoy struggled up to his feet with Scotty’s help.

“Sir—” Scotty began, but McCoy cut him off.

“Nothing sir, we’re fine.”

Archer frowned at him.

“Mr. McCoy—”

“We’re fine sir,” McCoy said more firmly. “Just heading to our room for the night.”

Archer studied his face. The head of house wasn’t fooled. His eyes narrowed slightly.

“Right,” he said slowly to them, “good night then gentlemen.”

McCoy leaned on Scotty as they finished walking to their room. He stepped into their bathroom as Scotty locked the door. McCoy tipped his face back and forth as he looked in the mirror. Nothing. He pulled his shirt off and an angry, red mark greeted him below his ribs. A gasp made McCoy look over.

“It’s fine,” he told Scotty.

“Len it’s not,” Scotty said back, eyes staring at the mark. “None of this is fine! We have to tell Pike; you should have told Archer!”

McCoy stepped over to Scotty and pulled him into a tight hug.

“Bruises heal,” he said softly. “My hands are tied.” He pulled back to look at Scotty and shrugged. “Don’t you think I could have fought back if I wanted? All the self defense I’ve had?” He dropped his arms from around Scotty, but took hold of his hands. “But now they’ll think I’m weak; that I’ll go crying to whomever and they’ll get in trouble. They won’t know my real strength.”

McCoy pulled Scotty along and sat on the bed. “Anything I do back will be twisted against me like I’ve said all along.”

“But ye’re hurt! Others will notice, and what are ye going to say then?” Scotty’s voice was demanding, but McCoy saw the worry and fear in his eyes. “Ye should at least go see Ms. Ryan!”

McCoy shook his head. “If it hurts I’ve got some painkillers. No one will know.” He stroked a hand across Scotty’s face. “I know it feels wrong, but in the big picture this is nothing. It’s a waiting game now; when will she screw up and everyone realizes I was right.”

Scotty was silent as he stared at McCoy. The prince could see the conflict happening in his fiancé, and it hurt. But when McCoy had spoken to the king earlier in the week, it had become very clear McCoy had to do his very best to rise above anything Jocelyn threw at him.

“Let me get ye some ice at least,” Scotty finally said quietly.

“Ok,” McCoy relented.

As Scotty hurried from the room, McCoy finished undressing. Carefully he lay back on the bed, the bruised area already sore. It hurt more than he wanted to admit, but he’d be damned if he let anyone know that.

Fortunately he had left his PADD on the nightstand. Reaching over, with just a small gasp, he grabbed the device. He had just finished tapping out a quick message to the king when Scotty returned. He set the PADD back down, as Scotty stepped into the bathroom.

Muttering in Gaelic, Scotty gently placed a hand towel on the bruise before setting the ice pack even more gently on it. Despite his care, McCoy still let out a hiss of pain.

“I’d say help me forget,” McCoy tried to smile at Scotty’s frowning expression, “but I don’t think I’m quite up for that.”

Scotty let out a choked laugh, and shook his head. “I’ll read love.”

“Here, let me…” McCoy shifted to make room on the bed for Scotty and grunted again with the movement.

“I’ll be fine.” McCoy grabbed Scotty’s hand and squeezed before the other boy could move. “I promise darlin’.”

Part 648

Scotty

Leonard slept next to him, but Scotty just couldn't find any peace. He just looked at his fiancé, gently stroking through his hair.

It had been horrible. Just watching Pete beat Leonard up and not being able to do anything.

Was this how Leonard had felt when he had watched Sural and the other Romulans hurt Scotty? Had he also felt that cruel fear? And the... helplessness?

Tears slowly streamed down Scotty's face. Why didn't they finally deserve some peace? Why weren't they finally allowed to be happy? It just wasn't fair!

The Scotsman had seen exactly what pain Leonard was going through, but the prince had vehemently denied that he needed help. He was so damn stubborn! He had simply taken two painkillers and then he had fallen asleep. As if that would solve the problems.

Scotty, too, had taken a pill against the threat of upcoming nightmares, but fatigue wouldn't overcome him. Too many thoughts kept him awake.

He knew it was Leonard's decision how to handle it, but Scotty feared there could be worse consequences. What if Leonard had broken ribs? What if he made things worse by not getting medical help? Or what if Pete beat him up again?

A strange sense of guilt came over Scotty. He should have fought back harder. He should have beaten those bastards up himself. He should have helped Leonard somehow.

But he had been frozen with fear. Not a single muscle had listened to him.

The only thing he could do now was to stay by Leonard's side and support him somehow.

He was very tired when they sat at the breakfast table on the next morning. The thoughts had kept him awake for hours and sleep hadn't found him at all.

Scotty's eyes glanced over to Pete and his friends and he couldn't suppress the shiver going through his body. How he would have loved to just punch them straight into their stupid faces!

But Leonard wouldn't want that. He wanted things to stay secretive.

The prince was trying his best not to show the pain he was in. He talked to Jim and Spock, faked a smile and a laugh. But Scotty knew that he was probably feeling horrible.

"Are ye alright, a bhràthair?"

Robbie's eyes met Scotty's. He looked worried, probably seeing how worn out his brother looked.

"Uhm... aye. Just... didn't get much sleep last night."

It was a lie. And he knew that Robbie could tell. But his little brother didn't say anything. Instead he tried to change the subject, realizing that Scotty couldn't talk openly.

"Keenser, Jaylah and I wanted to work on a project today. Will ye join us?"

A weak faked smile formed on Scotty's lips as he shook his head.

"Uhm, nae, I don't think so. I'd like to rest after band practice. Sorry."

At hearing that, Leonard looked over at the two of them. Surprise was written all over his face.

"What? Rest? I thought we'd join Jim for a game of pool."

Scotty glanced over at his fiancé. He knew that he was raising his voice so that Pete and the others would hear. He wanted them to see that he wasn't weak. However, Scotty couldn't help but sigh.

His love was so focused on trying to ignore the pain and act strong that he hadn't even realized just how exhausted the Scotsman was.

"I don't think that's a good idea, mo ghràdh. We should finish our book."

He didn't mean to sound annoyed, but it was hard for him to hold it in. He was just so desperate.

"Uhm... okay. But we will play that game after lunch, I tell you," Leonard promised Jim who just shrugged.

"Sounds fine to me."

They finished breakfast and Scotty knew that he had to act before Leonard would hurt himself even more.

After band practice, Scotty made sure that no one was watching him. He needed to see someone, but he didn't want anyone to know.

His feet carried him to the familar floor almost automatically, but he closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he knocked at the door.

He knew that Leonard would be angry at him for what he was doing, but he had to protect his fiancé from further harm.

So when the door opened and he looked into a pair of friendly eyes, he just spoke.

"Ms. Ryan, I need yer help."

#star trek #montgomery scott #leonard mccoy #scones #au #against all odds

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americancowgirl19 · 2 years

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He’s Queen

Summary: You finally have your queen and soon you’ll have Frank out in the open as well

Warnings: angst, fluff, nakedness, sexy scene without being full on sex

Reader: Alpha Female Reader

Pairings: Beta Frank x Alpha Reader x Omega Matt

Word Count: 2448

A/n: Guess I’ll start working on part seven now LOL! I absolutely LOVE writing for this series!

Message me if you wanna be added/subtracted from the taglist!

@insanelyobsessedwithdilfs @liffydaze @tsukishimawhore @glowstick-lesbian @izzy-jez @cuddle-pie @marie975 @mylifeispainandiloveit @izbelross

Special shout out to @raelwrites (I really hope that tagged you correctly) for inspiring me to write this fiction series with her own series called - Gunpowder and Cinnamon! It’s worth a look! Promise!

Masterlist - Part Five

Once Matt entered the private room, he released a large sigh. He heard Frank coming up to him and Matt practically rushed to meet him. Frank grinned pulling Matt into his arms.

“You were perfect, baby,” Frank whispered, kissing the top of his head. Matt hums breathing in his scent and basking in his warmth.

“I wish you were out there with us,” Matt mumbled.

“I know,” Frank whisper, holding him even tighter. “Soon,” He promises. “Whenever you need me just focus on the upper balcony. I’ll be hiding there with a few friends,”

“Then I’ll never focus on anything else,” Matt murmurs. Frank smirks leaning Matt’s head back. Matt huffs resting his head against Franks.

“I know today is going to be a lot, alright? It’s going to be long and filled with political bullshit, but Y/n is going to be right by your side the entire time,” Frank promises. “She won’t let you go through this alone,”

“She had too,” Matt whispers.

“Yeah,” Frank sighs hating that he couldn’t be with you when you desperately needed someone by your side. He wasn’t exactly excited about the new restrictions on his Punisher activities but if it cleaned his image and allowed him to be with the two of you, he’d do it without much complaining. “But now none of us have to do anything alone anymore and we both have you to thank for that,” Matt blushes a little bit.

Adjusting to Daredevil was more natural than he thought it would be. Well, natural in the terms of fighting. The two of them could read each other easily and hardly needed to talk to understand the next move. The no-killing deal was hard to get behind. Matt was always there to stop him, and it was beyond annoying.

The two of them pull apart as you come into the room. You quickly shut the door behind you before anyone can peak in. You - like Matt had done - release a large sigh causing them both to smile.

“Matt - baby - you did so well,” You praise walking up to him. Before he could say anything, you’re giving him a small kiss. Being between you and Frank while kissing you made all the stress from the day slowly dissipate. “Finally... I have a queen,” You whisper against his lips. “A very handsome one at that,” You flirt.

Matt blushes and takes cover in the crook of your neck. You smile holding him closely. The two of you couldn’t hide for long, however. You had to meet with all the guests, shake hands, and make small talk.

“We have a few minutes but not long. Go take a seat because you’ll be on your feet all day,” You push him towards the chair before turning towards Frank.

Frank straightens his suit and gives a little spin. You laugh pulling him towards you. Your lips eagerly met, and he greedily pulled you into him. You moan softly before forcing yourself to pull away.

“Thank you for dressing up,” You whisper, running your hands over his chest.

“I expect a reward later,” He muttered, and you laugh but send him a wink. “I love you,” He whispers.

“I love you too,” You kiss him again before stepping away.

You grab Matt, and together the two of you enter the crowd. Matt keeps his arm linked with yours allowing you to guide him through the crowd. He was eternally grateful you advocated to keep the scents of the flowers and candles to be light. If all the scents overwhelmed him, he could either focus on the neutral scents or on you. Let’s be real, if anything became overwhelming, he naturally focused on you.

You were a calming beckon for him. He focused on everything about you from your silk dress to your steady heartbeat. He knew he was safe with you, especially since he could easily find Frank on the upper deck.

Being beside you and knowing Frank was close made it easier to deal with everyone. You guided him through the crowd introducing him to everyone. He met kings and queens, lords and ladies.

“Valkyrie,” You greeted with a smile.

“Please, today is a day of friendship and happiness. There’s no need to be formal, especially with me,” she says giving you a giant grin. “I’m Brunnhilde,” She introduces herself to Matt. “And I like to think of myself as Y/n closest friend,” She smirks.

“Easy, Natasha is around here somewhere,” You joke. She scoffs.

“I’ll take on that old spider anytime,” Brunnhilde waves dismissively. The two of you laugh.

“Matt, Brunnhilde spent a few years here as my father’s ward. We grew close during that time,”

“The only person to come close to drinking me under the table,” Brunnhilde boast. “But not quite,” You roll your eyes.

“I’m just happy we were able to make fools out of Thor and Loki,” you said, and she laughs loudly.

“As if that’s hard,” She smirks, and you agree. “I heard through the grapevine that you’re about to make a handsome deal with me,”

“You’d think by now I’d know how much of a security risk Banner is,” You grumble rolling your eyes.

“Oh, relax,” Brunnhilde pats your shoulder. “He’s only an open book with a select few and nobody can keep anything from me,” She winks at you.

“Yes, I plan on making a deal with a few people but today’s not the day to discuss these matters,” you tell her.

“Of course! Today isn’t about us, it’s about your queen. I’ll tell you now he’ll be the envy of the kingdom,” She smirks winking at you.

“No,” You whisper turning your head towards him. “I’ll be...” You mutter kissing his cheek lightly. Matt smiles bumping his head against yours. “Excuse us,”

You continue to lead Matt around. Not everyone was as pleasant as others, but Matt was handling everything well. When you noticed he needed a break you took him to the side for a breather. Never once did you pull your arm from his.

“How did you do this by yourself?” Matt asks under his breath. “All the lies and fake politeness, the politics and handshakes,”

“My coronation wasn’t quite like this,” you tell him. “My father had just passed so there were more condolences and even more lies. Lies of loyalty and support. Fake kindnesses. Everyone’s everyone’s friend in times of grief and celebration,”

“I’m sorry,” Matt whispers, rubbing his head against your neck. You lightly shush him before moving his head back to kiss his lips.

“Don’t ever hesitate to ask me anything. I’ll tell you everything,” You promise. “Life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows - you know this. I’ll share everything with you. The laughs and the heartbreaks,”

“I love you,” Matt whispers. You grin from ear to ear, pulling him impossibly closer.

“I love you too, my queen,” You mutter before kissing him again. “Come on, the night isn’t over yet,” Matt groans but lets you pull him back into the crowd.

“Excuse me, I’d like to give my congratulations,” A gentle, low tone says from behind you. When you turn you give the man one of the few genuine smiles of the day.

“T’Challa,” You greet giving him a warm side hug - still not willing to release your omega. “I’m glad you could make it, I understand you’re going through some... difficulties at home,”

“Nothing I cannot manage, I assure you,” T’Challa promises. “Are you still planning on visiting in a few weeks?” He asks.

“Yes, I have things I’d rather discuss with you in person,” You tell him.

“Then we will eagerly await your arrival,” T’Challa nods, bowing slightly. You return the bow out of respect. Not one for unnecessary discussions, T’Challa takes his leave.

“He’s lying,” Matt whispers just for you. “The problem in Wakanda is bigger than he’s letting on,” You hum thoughtfully but knowing now isn’t the time to discuss things.

“Ah, Mr. Stark...”

The night couldn’t be over fast enough. When the crowd thinned, and you finally led him back to the room Matt finally allowed himself to relax. You laughed softly as he unceremoniously collapsed on the bed. You begin to undress yourself when Frank climbs in through the window. You didn’t bother scolding him.

“Come here,” Frank murmurs to you. You grin swaying your hips as you move to him. Frank growls grabbing your hips and pulling you into him. “You look beautiful,” He whispers lightly kissing your lips. “Stunning,” He adds, going for your throat. “Regal,”

“Help me out of my dress,” You whisper. Frank nips your bear shoulder before turning you around. His warm, calloused fingers pull the zipper of your dress down your back. When the fabric falls to the floor your left in your underwear only - no bra.

Frank moans, his hands squeezing your hips before delicately grazing up your sides before stopping at their destination - you tits. You moan quietly, leaning your head back on his shoulder as he massages the both of them simultaneously.

“You know,” You whisper, glancing at Matt - who’s still laying on the bed. “I’m not the one that was coronated today,” You let out a low groan when Frank tweaks your nipples and grinds his bulge against your ass.

“You’re right,” He whispers, giving your shoulder a kiss before walking around you and towards Matt.

One week after Matt’s coronation positive report about the Punisher begin to flow in. Natasha gave them to you with a knowing grin - she knew (and approved) of what you were doing.

Two weeks after the coronation your deal with Valkyrie and the Guardians was complete. The first stages were in motion as well as the plan to distribute the wealth among your people.

Three weeks after the coronation you prepare for your trip to Wakanda.

“I don’t think you should go,” Matt says, standing to the side with his arms crossed. “Everything is pointing towards a mutiny in Wakanda. It’ll happen any day now, I don’t want you there,”

“Now is the best time to go,” you tell him. “It’s fall and absolutely beautiful there,” You explain.

“No offense, but I don’t exactly care about what season Wakanda is going through,” Matt snips.

“You should,” you tell him. “Even the blind can appreciate the change in seasons,” you say. Matt sighs frustratingly.

“Fine, I’ll bite, what’s up with the change of season?” He questions.

“It’s nearly winter. Leaves are falling off the trees but there’s still decent cover. There’re not many hiding places for the enemy to claim and with all the leaves on the ground you’ll hear anyone coming,” You explain.

“If you brought me, you wouldn’t have to worry about that,” Matt tells you again.

“No,” You shake your head.

“So, you can risk your life, but I can’t risk mine?”

“Oh, don’t pull that card. You get to risk your life every day as Daredevil, love,” You tell him.

“Is that what this is about? You need some kind of adventure?” He asks and you sigh finally coming to stand in front of him.

“No,” You whisper, resting your hands on his hips. “I’m not taking you because you lived in the center of a war for most of your life and you choose to partake in violent activities at night with Frank. I don’t want to bring you to Wakanda because of the threat of another war. I don’t want you to go through anymore violence than you already are,” Matt opens his mouth, but you lightly shush him, pulling him closer. “I have to go, baby. The deal between me and T’Challa will help solidify his hold on the throne. Me going shows solidarity and I just won a war against a very powerful opponent,”

“At least take Frank with you. Don’t go alone,” Matt whispers, his hands rubbing your arms.

“No can do, baby. You’re still new to the kingdom and I don’t trust everyone in court to be kind to you. Frank stays with you,” You whisper kissing his forehead and stepping back. Matt growls running his hand through his hair. “I’m not going alone, love,” You promise. “I’m not that stupid,”

“Who are you taking?” Matt asks.

“Natasha and Yelena,” you tell him. “Maria and Sharon will be waiting on the outskirts of the kingdom ready to come if we need them. We’re keeping our party small,”

“Small party, less casualties,” Matt growls.

“If we bring too many, we’ll make the people of Wakanda nervous. Our business with Valkyrie and the Guardians isn’t public yet. We bring too many people they might feel like we’re invading or planning a takeover. In their eyes we already have Fisk’s territory why not T’Challa’s as well? Why not take his kingdom out from under him while he’s busy with this Erik Killmonger bullshit?”

Matt growls pacing. You watch him for a moment before returning to his side. You let out a low purr while guiding him into your arms. He was still huffing and puffing but you eventually got him to relax.

“I know you’re worried, baby,” You whisper. “But there’s nothing - not even death herself - that will stop me from coming back to you,” You promise.

“That’s not entirely comforting,” Matt whisper. He leans back and presses his head against yours. “I don’t want you going. I don’t doubt you can handle yourself and I know this is important but I’m still asking you to stay,” Matt pleads. “I don’t want you to be there when the threat of war turns into reality. I don’t want you in danger or getting hurt,”

“I’m king, Matt,” You whisper. “I’ll never be safe,”

“You are,” He states as fact instead of opinion. “Right here, in my arms. The only way you could possibly be safer is if Frank was with us,”

“I love you, Matt Murdock,” You whisper, pressing your lips against his.

Despite all the effort not only Matt put in but Frank as well to keep you from going to Wakanda - you still went. T’Challa is someone you strongly respect and a very close friend. Taking risks is what being king is. T’Challa is worth the risk.

Only, Killmonger anticipated your move. There were only a select few things where you were predictable in and Killmonger picked up on it. He timed his revolution against T’Challa perfectly with your arrival to Wakanda. When you were in the throne room greeting T’Challa Killmonger busted through the door and challenged the king for the throne through death by combat.

You really should have stayed with Frank and Matt.

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xtruss · 1 year

Text

The 15 Year Battle For Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Day

Memorial March after assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

On November 2, 1983, President Ronald Reagan signed the King Holiday Bill into law, designating the third Monday in January a federal holiday in observance of civil rights leader Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. The legislation to recognize Martin Luther King Jr. Day was first introduced just four days after his assassination on April 4, 1968. Still, it would take 15 years of persistence by civil rights activists for the holiday to be approved by the federal government and an additional 17 years for it to be recognized in all 50 states. Today, it is the only federal holiday designated as a national day of service to encourage all Americans to volunteer and improve their communities.

Pinback button promoting Martin Luther King Day 1982. Collection of the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture

Despite the national fervor inspired by King's death, the bill to create a holiday in his honor languished for years with limited congressional support. However, Democratic Michigan Congressman, John Conyers, who first proposed the bill on April 8, 1968, was not deterred. He continued to reintroduce the legislation every year with the support of the Congressional Black Caucus, which Conyers helped found.

To me, [King] is the outstanding international leader of the 20th century without ever holding office. What he did — I doubt anyone else could have done. — Rep. John Conyers (D-Mich.) January 18, 2015

In 1979, on the 50th anniversary of King’s birth, the bill finally came to a vote in the House. However, even with a petition of 300,000 signatures in support, the backing of President Jimmy Carter, and testimonials from King’s widow, Coretta Scott King, the bill still was rejected by five votes in the House. Republican Missouri Congressman Gene Taylor led the opposition, which cited the costs of an additional federal holiday and traditions which exclude private citizens from receiving recognition with public holidays named in their honor.

Even though it failed to pass in the House, public support for the bill continued to grow, in no small part due to musician Stevie Wonder. The Motown singer and songwriter’s 1980 album “Hotter Than July” featured the song “Happy Birthday,” which served as an ode to King's vision and a rallying cry for recognition of his achievements with a national holiday.

Coretta Scott King and Stevie Wonder during M.L.K Gala at The Atlanta Civic Center in Atlanta Georgia, January 01, 1982. Photo by Rick Diamond/Getty Images

I just never understood / How a man who died for good / Could not have a day that would / Be set aside for his recognition ... in peace, our hearts will sing / Thanks to Martin Luther King — Stevie Wonder. "Happy Birthday" Hotter than July (1980)

Wonder continued to spread his message with regular appearances alongside Coretta Scott King at rallies. He also capped a four-month tour with a benefit concert on the National Mall, where King delivered his famous “I have a Dream” speech 18 years earlier.

When the bill again made it to the house floor in 1983, fifteen years after King’s murder, support was overwhelming. Working together, Coretta Scott King, the Congressional Black Caucus, and Stevie Wonder amassed a six million signature petition in favor of the holiday. The bill easily passed in the House with a vote of 338 to 90. However, when the bill moved onto the Senate, Republican North Carolina Senator, Jesse Helms attempted to dismiss the legislation by submitting documents alleging that the civil rights leader harbored ties to the communist party. Outraged by the personal attack on King's character, Democratic New York Congressman Daniel Patrick Moynihan threw the more than 300 page binder to the ground and stomped on what he described as a "packet of filth." After two days of debate, the bill passed in the Senate and President Ronald Regan reluctantly agreed to sign it into law.

In the presence of Coretta Scott King (2nd from left), President Ronald Reagan signs a bill making Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday a national holiday. Photo by © CORBIS/Corbis via Getty Images

I would have preferred a non-holiday in King's honor but since they seem bent on making it a national holiday, I believe the symbolism of that day is important enough that I will sign that legislation when it reaches my desk. — President Ronald Regan, October 20, 1983

Despite the holiday’s federal recognition, statewide observance of Martin Luther King Jr. Day is far from uniform. Some states include additional holidays, which are celebrated concurrently with Martin Luther King Jr. Day. Arizona and New Hampshire, for example, celebrate “Civil Rights Day” and Wyoming celebrates “Wyoming Equality Day.” Other states, like Alabama and Mississippi, have combined the King holiday with “Robert E. Lee Day” to honor the birthday of Confederate General Robert E. Lee, who was born on January 19. However, Martin Luther King Day has been recognized in all 50 states since early 2000.

On August 23, 1994, the King Holiday and Service Act was signed into law by President Bill Clinton. Inspired by King’s life of service, Congressman John Lewis and former Senator Harris Wofford proposed the legislation to encourage Americans to find common causes and methods of improving their communities. In honor of Congressman Lewis’ initiative to make the Martin Luther King, Jr. holiday “a day on, not a day off” the National Museum of African American History and Culture has organized donation drives to those in need and partnered with corporations to provide music, film screenings and interactive activities to the public. If you are interested in giving back to your community this year, we encourage you to explore our website for volunteer opportunities or participate in the transcription of the Freedmen’s Bureau papers.**

**The Freedmen's Bureau Records

The Museum is focusing attention on the post-Civil War transition of enslaved people to freedom by making the records of the Freedmen’s Bureau accessible online.

The United States Bureau of Refugees, Freedmen, and Abandoned Lands, commonly known as the Freedmen's Bureau, was created by Congress in 1865 to assist in the political and social reconstruction of post-war Southern states and to help formerly enslaved people make the transition from slavery to freedom and citizenship. In the process, the Bureau created millions of records that contain the names of hundreds of thousands of formerly enslaved individuals and Southern white refugees.

Freedmen's Bureau Search Portal

The Freedmen’s Bureau Search Portal provides unprecedented opportunities for family historians and genealogists to search for their ancestors and for scholars to research a variety of topics related to slavery and Reconstruction in the Freedmen’s Bureau records. The portal makes possible for the first time the ability to research multiple sets of Freedmen’s Bureau data in one place, allowing users to search indexed data for specific names, places, and dates and transcribed data for topics, subjects, institutions, and any other words or phrases. Matches to search criteria will be highlighted in the results.

Freedmen’s Bureau Transcription Project

The Museum has collaborated with the Smithsonian Transcription Center to transcribe more than 1.7 million image files from the Freedmen’s Bureau records. The Transcription Center is a platform where digital volunteers can transcribe and review transcriptions of Smithsonian collections. The Freedmen’s Bureau Transcription Project is the largest crowd sourcing initiative ever sponsored by the Smithsonian.

Once completed, the Freedmen’s Bureau Transcription Project will allow full text searches that provide access to both images and transcriptions of the original records. Family historians, genealogists, students, and scholars around the world will have online access to these records. In addition, these transcribed records will be keyword searchable, reducing the effort required to find a person or topic. Transcribing these original documents will increase our understanding of the post-Civil War era and our knowledge of post-Emancipation family life.

History of the Freedmen's Bureau

Congress established the Bureau of Refugees, Freedmen and Abandoned Lands in 1865 to assist in the reconstruction of the South and to aid formerly enslaved individuals transition to freedom and citizenship. Administered by the War Department, the Bureau followed the department’s war-inspired record-keeping system. These handwritten records include letters, labor contracts, lists of food rations issued, indentures of apprenticeship, marriage and hospital registers and census lists. They provide a unique view into the lives of newly freed individuals and the social conditions of the South after the war.

The Bureau was responsible for providing assistance to four million formerly enslaved individuals and hundreds of thousands of impoverished Southern whites. The Bureau provided food, clothing, medical care, and legal representation; promoted education; helped legalize marriages; and assisted African American soldiers and sailors in securing back pay, enlistment bounties, and pensions. In addition, the Bureau promoted a system of labor contracts to replace the slavery system and tried to settle freedmen and women on abandoned or confiscated land. The Bureau was also responsible for protecting freedmen and women from intimidation and assaults by Southern whites. The Bureau set up offices in major cities in the 15 Southern and border states and the District of Columbia. Under-funded by Congress and opposed by President Andrew Johnson, the Bureau only operated between 1865 and 1872.

The Freedmen’s Bureau plays a key role in the Museum’s Slavery and Freedom and Defending Freedom, Defining Freedom: The Era of Segregation, 1877-1968 exhibitions. In these exhibitions, the Freedmen’s Bureau provides a backdrop against which we see African Americans resisting white efforts to deny them “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” The Freedmen’s Bureau records are also featured in an Interactive exhibition in the Robert Frederick Smith Explore Your Family History Center on the Museum’s second floor.

The National Archives and Records Administration preserves the original Freedmen’s Bureau records.

The Bureau helped support schools like this one in New Bern, North Carolina, to educate newly freed children. Collection of the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture

You’ll find African American genealogists are quite excited about the Freedmen’s Bureau Project. Each Indexed document brings us closer to reclaiming our ancestral heritage and historical past. — Hollis Gentry, Museum Genealogy Specialist

Freedman's Village was located on what is now Arlington National Cemetery, Arlington, VA. Courtesy of Library of Congress, LC-USZ62-117892

Working on the Freedman’s Bureau Project has shed a light on the past for me that I never would’ve otherwise been able to experience. In working with these records, I gained a new understanding about how people lived. I hope the work we’ve done will be valuable for generations to come as people delve into their pasts. — Libby Herndon, Museum Volunteer

African Americans reported concerns and filed legal claims with agents at the Bureau’s field offices creating millions of handwritten documents. Courtesy of the New York Public Library Digital Collections

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kongkhoi · 3 years

Text

do i need to tell you again?

character: scaramouche

warnings: smut, degradation, dom scaramouche, biting, teasing, orgasm denial, blowjob, swallowing cum, hair pulling, creampie, afab reader

word count: 1.8k

a/n: not proofread, enjoy (?)

“sc-scaramouche! ah-”

you’re laying on the bed, the man above you pinning your wrists down into the plush surface. his head is in the crook of your neck, hungrily licking and sucking, marking you as his. he relishes in your sounds and in your scent, his control slipping with every noise you squeak out. he wants to take you then and there.

it’s absolutely hypnotic to him. how sensitive you seem to be, how he can feel your hands clenching tighter, how your thighs are on the verge of shaking from desire. he wills himself to prolong the moment. extend his patience.

after all, who knows what cute sounds you’d let out if he were to..

you let out a repressed squeal when he bites down into the soft flesh of your neck, leaving you panting. you try to hold back your noises, biting your lip.

“bastard,” you manage to spit out. “that’s gonna leave a mar- nngh!”

you’re interrupted when he harshly sucks on that same spot, almost making him laugh at your sudden silence. he smugly chuckles against your skin, continuing his kisses. he trails up your now-sensitive neck, to your jawline, to the corner of your mouth. you can’t stop the mewls that spill from your lips, your mind going blank.

he takes a second to see what’s become of you. face flushed, lips rosy and swollen, pupils blown wide, marks littering your neck. with a low growl in his throat, he licks his lips at the sight.

“already so needy. i’ve barely even started,” he teases, his voice lilting ever so slightly. it sends a shiver down your spine.

you open your mouth to respond. to deny, to retort, anything. but his lips crash into yours before you do, robbing you of whatever you had to say. his kisses are breathtaking. ravenous but reticent. rough and yet ever so slightly laced with sweetness. before long, he has your back arching and your hips desperately rolling into his--despite any of your claims to want otherwise. heat pools between your legs more and more by the second, making you crave for any kind of relief through friction. but you wouldn’t dare let him know about that.

scaramouche pulls away, meeting your eyes, loving the way your eyes look distant and hazy. smirking, he releases your hands to trail one down to your slick cunt sopping with arousal. your eyes widen at his touch, wanting to become undone with just his fingers alone, only your pride stopping you from outright begging.

“look at this, he hisses. he brings his hand into view, his fingers glistening with your slick. aware of every detail, you take a sharp breath in, entranced.

“such a slut. this wet already? i can only wonder what goes on in your head right now.” he smirks. bringing his fingers to his mouth, he slowly drags his tongue along them. he maintains eye contact, not for a moment missing any of your reactions.

the feeling in your gut tightens at that, almost making you whimper.

with your hands now free, you flip him over with you on top. you’re freeing his cock from it’s confines when he grabs your hair and tugs, making you moan and look up at him.

“ah, ah, ah,” he reprimands.

it’s a simple gesture. yet for some reason it sets a fire within you. you want to see him cry out in pleasure and yet you obey, staying a hair’s breadth away from his angry cock. you’re eager and awaiting, even enjoying the ache his grasp on you brings.

so you feign annoyance. “what is it this time,” you grunt.

“as nice it would be to have you doing this on your own accord, i could only imagine what a view it would be if i did...this.” his grip on your hair tightens enticingly.

“open,” he commands, and you do, leaving your mouth wide open for him to use like a toy.

not wasting any time, he brings your head down onto his cock. you gag at the sudden intrusion and he lets out a low moan at the sudden tightness your throat brings. tears sting the corners of your eyes and your glare shoots daggers up at him, making the man laugh.

“it only gets rougher from here. but i’m sure you already know that, whore.”

you suck harshly on his dick in retaliation, shutting him up with a grimace.

he thrusts up into your mouth again, building up a regular pace. gagging and choking on his cock, you elicit long, drawn out moans from scaramouche. fucking his cock into you deeper, his breath hitches, his other hand tangling into your hair as well.

you swirl your tongue around his length and groan, making him pull your mouth off of him.

breathing heavily, he demands, “what do you think you’re doing?”

“can’t handle it?” you chuckle. the spit your escaping from your mouth and the darkened blush on your face drives him crazy. before he can answer, you blow hot breath onto the tip of his cock.

eyes darkening, he grips onto your locks once again, his cock filling your mouth. the even faster pace and the lack of air makes your head spin and your vision blur.

heavy breathing fills the room as you continue to struggle for air, the man above you adoring just how tight and warm your throat is around him as his visage contorts in pleasure. the tears falling from your lust-shrouded eyes is the icing on the cake, and it’s not long after until scaramouche shoots hot cum down your throat.

he releases his grip on your hair and you pull off, wiping the tears from your cheeks. you’re finally able to breathe when he shoves you onto the bed again, your back meeting the cushiony mattress.

scaramouche positions himself between your legs, gripping your thighs so tightly it was sure to bruise. but you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t like it. after much anticipation on your end, he hauls your legs over his shoulder, and easily slips his cock into your sloppy cunt, making you cry out.

“hah, you’re not even putting up a fight anymore. has my stupid little slut finally come to her senses?”

you manage to squeak out a response.

“hm? speak up,” he sneers.

“yes!”

he raises an eyebrow and pauses. “yes, what?”

you hesitate to answer. but the way the desire pools in your stomach is more than enough to make you swallow whatever dignity you have left. anything to relieve the burning ache that only builds.

“i... i need you to fuck me, scara. please.”

“not good enough.” he begins to stroke his cock, to send a message. “if you keep this up, i’ll leave you here and get off by myself. so tell me. what do you want me to do to you?”

your throat bobs as you gulp. with a deep breath, you beg. “please. please i need you to fuck me, scaramouche. i-i’m your dumb slut and only yours, just pl- ngh! ah s-so big!-”

upon his bottoming out into you, the only thing you can do is curl your toes and throw your head back in pleasure as his cock drags so deliciously between your walls and his skillful fingers rub circles into your sensitive clit. you can only grip the bedsheets and watch with blurred vision as he thrusts deep into you.

scaramouche fucks into you and ravages you better than you ever could with those fingers and toys. almost pulling out, he rams back into your tight cunt, making you scream. “i can’t -ngh- i can’t, scara-”

“take it,” he growls in between thrusts. “you’re gonna take anything i give you, understood?”

his head perfectly aimed at that spot you love, hitting it with every thrust makes your mind go blank. it feels so good, you can’t help but babble out incoherent “yes, thank you”s and “feels good!”s. the coil tightening in your stomach and the way you clench around his dick tells him everything he needs to know.

right before you can cum, he pulls out of you, eliciting a whine from your lips, now bitten raw and red.

“hah,” he pants. “bend over. the side of the bed. c’mon, you can do it.”

it takes a few seconds to process. “b-”

“do i have to repeat myself?”

you blush and shake your head, doing as he says. your ass now exposed, back arched, cunt dripping, you manage to comply. the lack of vision you have in the new position sends goosebumps across your skin.

he rests his hands on your hips and caresses your ass, making you shiver. he lines up his cock to your welcoming entrance, groaning at how it sucks him in so nicely. wet, hot, and tight for him, he bottoms out into you. its cruel and torturous, the pace he sets. his cock kissing your g-spot, you press into the mattress at the pleasure it gives you. but you want more. and he knows it.

“more! please,” you sob. “f-faster!”

“all you had to do was ask.”

the harsh thrusts and his fingers digging into your stomach bring you closer and closer to your high. your whimpers and moans come out higher pitched as you near your climax.

it hits powerfully, amplified by your previous denied orgasm. you near scream into the bed, your sobs muffled and your tears flowing. but he doesn’t stop there. you’re still sensitive when scaramouche bends down to whisper in your ear, “god, you’re so -nngh- so tight! does my cock feel that good? going stupid already?”

you try to respond, but can’t form the words. your tight hole clenching tighter around his cock at his venomous words.

“you like that? is that gonna make you cum? go on, then.”

your thighs have long given out, your body convulsing under him. mind screaming from the pleasure the overstimulation brings, hearing nothing but scaramouche’s voice and the sound of wet skin against skin. it’s all too much. you cum for the second time, making him groan at the feeling.

he thrusts harder into you, causing you to cry out. his voice husky and moans broken, his hips stuttering, and his legs giving out, he cums inside. the hot liquid shooting deep mixes with your own slick and cum, slowly dripping out as he pulls out of your used hole. he uses two fingers to swipe up as much as he can and stuff it back into you.

“good,” he pants.

you tilt your head to the side, face red. “mmm. good?”

he nods. he moves the stray hair away from your face and sits down, fixing your body in a more comfortable position. “yeah. we’ll sort things out in the morning.” he pulls a blanket over the two of you. “rest up.”

you sigh as you take one last look at him. “alright.”

#hooo boy im down egregious #genshin impact smut #genshin impact #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #scaramouche brainrot

1K notes · View notes

writingdirty · 2 years

Text

Pain & Worship

Excerpt from my new short story Pain & Worship. Read the rest on my Patreon.

Henry twisted his neck back and forth trying to get some relief from the tightness of his collar and tie. Usually, he enjoyed cocktail parties, getting dressed up, mingling and carousing, but that evening he just wanted to be home in bed. It had been a horrible day and as much as he loved Joy and her friends, he just wasn’t in the mood to be charming.

The party was in a pretty and darkly lit bar. One of those speakeasy-type places that rented out its basement for intimate events. There was a piano and stand-up bass and singer, artfully filling the room with soft but interesting jazz. There were two handsome bartenders, shaking Martinis and Manhattans and all sorts of more unusual concoctions.

It should have been captivating, but that evening it all rang a bit flat, for Henry at least. He was planning his escape when he saw the woman with large hungry eyes in the corner. Tall, striking, pouting lips, a Roman nose, and those eyes, huge and demanding attention.

Henry wondered if it would be worth staying another few minutes just to introduce himself. As he contemplated, as if she read his thoughts, he saw that her gaze seemed to focus on him. The look in her eyes was somewhere between desperate and predatory. She was watching him, holding a full coupe of champagne and biting her bottom lip.

He looked her over once more. She was perhaps an inch shy of six feet tall, wide-hipped, and thick thighed. Her hair was straight and dark with neat bangs. Her aquiline nose made him think she might be Greek or Italian. Those eyes were pools of brown and thickly lined with black. She looked like an ancient statue. A beauty that was of another time. That look seemed to contrast with her nervous fidgeting posture.

As he watched her, she took a deep breath and seemed to make up her mind about something. She nodded and started walking towards him. Henry finished his Scotch and put the glass down on a nearby table. He stood up a little straighter and fixed his tie.

“You’re Henry,” she said when she got to him, and then she immediately seemed to regret what she said. For some reason he expected her to have an accent, but she seemed local or at least from somewhere on the East Coast.

“I am. I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage,” he said with a smile. She sighed and gathered herself again.

“Right, yes, I’m sorry. I’m being incredibly rude. I’m Elena. I know you from, I mean, I had a friend who knew you. Victoria? Do you remember someone named Victoria? It was a while ago-” she started but she stopped talking when he smiled.

“Of course. How could I ever forget Victoria? It’s been years since I’ve heard from her. How is she?” he asked, motioning for a waiter to bring him another drink.

Elena sipped her champagne and considered the question. “She’s doing well, though we don’t talk much anymore. She moved to Chicago. She’s working for some advertising agency or something. She seems happy.”

Henry nodded. He had known Victoria for a short but intense time. It was a summer of abandon. He was younger then and wilder and Victoria was hungry for life. They met in a whirlwind and a date turned into a weekend together which turned into two weeks of sex and kink and passion the likes of which he had rarely ever seen before or since.

They tried to keep in touch after, but they seemed to only really have that one moment.

“She talked about you a lot. I mean, I was her roommate back then. I almost called the police when she didn’t come home that weekend. Then her text messages were so strange, so unlike her. Finally, when she came back she seemed changed somehow. It took days before the whole story spilled out of her,” Elena said in a rush, seeming embarrassed after she spoke as if she let out a secret.

Henry smiled, embarrassed more for her than himself. He was not a man who felt much shame about his own doings. The waiter handed him another Scotch and Henry inhaled the scent of the spirit. He closed his eyes and remembered Victoria, the taste of her, the madness of their time together. It was a flame that had never gone out and a memory he often came back to. He sipped his drink and smiled at Elena once more.

“Well, it’s lovely to meet you, Elena. Any friend of Victoria is a friend of mine. What brings you to Joy’s little get-together this evening?”

She eyed him and took a long sip of her drink. “I’ve been invited to a few of these things. We have more friends in common than just Victoria, it seems. Honestly, I came because I saw your name on the guest list. I remembered it from Victoria’s stories and I wanted to meet you.”

Her voice still wavered a little with nervousness, but it seemed to be getting more confident.

“Oh? Victoria’s stories left that much of an impression?” Henry said with a chuckle.

She didn’t laugh, she only nodded seriously. “Yes. I remember them very vividly. Now, just like then, I want that. I want to live her story. Tied down and used, praised and worshipped, then beaten and fucked. A cycle of violence and lust and tenderness. All the incredible details. I’ve fantasized about it. I’ve fantasized about you, even though we’ve never met. I swore if I was ever in the same room, I’d-” she stopped, looking scared to finish her sentence.

Henry leaned in, unsure of what to think about what he just heard. Remembering Victoria, the tiny thing, how they had fallen into such a potent dynamic from that first meeting. How she both submitted to him in so many ways and yet at the same time demanded his worship.

Elena, on the other hand, was perhaps four inches taller than Henry in her heels. She was thickly curved and powerfully built. An amazon. Like her body, her demeanor was completely different than the petite and bratty Victoria. Elena seemed constrained. She seemed to be forcing out the somewhat shocking words she was delivering to him.

“If you were ever in the same room as me, you’d what?”

She took a deep breath. “I don’t know, I guess, I’d offer myself to you. Is that a strange way of phrasing it?”

Henry remained relatively calm. It was his way. He was a bit unflappable and it was part of his charm. It was part of how he created an air of control, but it was difficult when faced with the vulnerability in her eyes and the weight of her words. His eyes moved to her plump lips, stained in dark red. He glanced down to her cleavage, a deep inviting line. Then her hips and thighs. A goddess offering herself up.

“It’s a remarkably tempting way to phrase it,” he said, after a moment of consideration. Then he sipped his Scotch once more. “What specifically drew you to Victoria’s story.”

“It was the look in her eyes when she told me about it. How when she talked about you her gaze went sort of far away. I remember how specific she was about what you did to her. How the whole time she felt worshipped, even when you were tying her up and spanking her and using her,” she said, moving closer as her voice went to a whisper.

Henry felt the warmth of her body and smelled some familiar perfume. It was intoxicating. That and the fact that he was a man who enjoyed hearing about himself.

“You wear the same perfume as she did, don’t you?” Elena’s eyes went wide and she nodded her head very slightly. “It smells different on you. That chemistry is very interesting. How a scent mixes with someone’s skin and pheromones and all of that.”

She seemed surprised and moved that he knew her perfume.

“My experiences with submission have always involved me being so ready to give myself to someone, but the other person ending up being impatient or ungrateful or just not particularly talented. And pain, well, I always want pain with my pleasure. I just don’t usually know how to ask for it. There is always the fear of giving someone too much power and them really hurting you. Body or heart.”

She moved even closer to him and he closed the distance until their legs touched and she was whispering into his ear.

“I don’t know. The way Victoria talked about you just made you sound ideal. And maybe even the fact that you both let it go after that brief affair. Like you both got exactly what you wanted and any more would just sour things. One perfect experience. I’ve thought about that over and over again.”

Henry nodded, his lip brushing against her cheek. She shivered against him. “You paint a vivid picture. Did Victoria know how her story affected you?”

The question seemed to surprise her. She looked down and considered it. “I don’t know. I mean, she always seemed more worldly than me. She always seemed to know what I was thinking, but she never really brought it up. She did tell me everything though, in such detail. We usually didn’t speak so intimately and frankly. And, well, she also showed me the marks. I think that’s what really burned it into my memory.”

“The marks?” he asked. He put his drink down on the nearby table and his hand rested on her hip. She leaned into his touch, sighing a little as if it was something she had desperately needed.

“The fingerprint bruises on her thighs and her breasts. The purple and blue on her ass, like a nebula. She said it was from your hand and your belt. It was the first time she really let me look at her body like that. I mean, we were roommates, but it was different, close up, almost touching.”

His hand tightened on her hip a little. “Was it only her experiences that you wanted or did you desire Victoria?”

Elena met his eyes and for the first time let out a little laugh. “Of course I wanted her. God, you remember what she was like. Everyone wanted to fuck Victoria.”

He laughed too and the break in the tension felt like a breath of fresh air. He let go of her hip and reached for his drink.

“You don’t have to stop touching me. I like your hands on me,” she whispered, with a surprising amount of longing in her voice.

Henry looked around. “Yes, but the crowd is thinning. I think we’ll have to go soon.” She met his gaze more boldly. “I could go home with you. I could be your pet for a while, the way she was.”

He studied her for a moment. The contrast of her boldness and her shyness. Her tall striking form, the swell of her hips, the directness of her offer.

“I think Victoria was a very particular pet. I might like to know exactly what kind of pet you would be, but alas, we just met. I’m afraid worship doesn’t come from a single conversation. I’m going to send you home to sleep on it. If you still think you would be interested in earning your own marks, you can give me a call. Then we can perhaps see,” he said, taking a crisp white business card out of the inside pocket of his jacket and handing it to her.

“I’ll call,” she said, biting her bottom lip again. Then she leaned forward and her red lips touched his ear. “I would like to earn your marks and your worship.”

As they parted, he smiled broadly. “That’s a good start.”

Read the rest on my Patreon.

#my-writing

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gxrlcinema · 3 years

Text

welcome!

i'm ilana, and this is the greatest show you're ever gonna see! tonight, we celebrate 300 followers with a special performance. look out for fluff, angst, and everything in between. relax and enjoy your night at the theatre (and if you're brave, join the cast and step into the spotlight yourself).

i'm so excited to see the show you all put on! thank you so much again for the amazing experience i've had on tumblr in the last half year. break a leg! ❤️

CURTAIN: SEPTEMBER 01, 2021

to clarify, this is when you can start posting fics, not when you can start signing up for them! you can sign up for them at any point before final bows!

FINAL BOWS: NOVEMBER 30, 2021

THEATRE ETIQUETTE:

there's no word limit, but any fic over 500 words needs to have a "keep reading" feature

please warn for potential triggers or content

tag me in your fic, and tag the work with either #ip theater challenge or #ilanas writing challenge

refrain from writing about underage characters doing 18+ activites, incest, assault, and sc*t. if your blog is 18+ a note will be made on the masterlist, regardless of the individual fic's content.

writers who don't follow this blog are not only welcome, but encouraged! i just want some musical inspired fic content and to have fun. if you'd like to participate you're welcome to!

choose a character or fandom and a prompt and message me that you're doing it. there's no limit on characters or prompts, but I'll keep track of who's doing what here. if you're interested in a musical theatre song that's not on the list, just message me and tell me you're doing it!

reader insert fics, ship fics, and gen fics are welcome!

i'll be making a masterlist for the challenge and updating it every time a fic is posted.

have fun with this! I'm a musical nerd and wanted to incorporate that passion with the fandom side of things!

CAST:

you can write about any character from the marvel cinematic universe, the vampire diaries, the originals, or teen wolf

NUMBERS:

I want people to take inspiration from one of these songs, but it doesn't have to be from the specific lyric I list here. I just wanted to give a little taste of the songs for those who aren't super familiar with musical theatre. Please listen to the song before you commit for context!

FIRST DATE, LAST NIGHT - DOGFIGHT. "meet me halfway / a touch and go of don't know what to say" [ @intrepidacious for Bucky Barnes]

ALL I'VE EVER KNOWN - HADESTOWN. "all i've ever known is how to hold my own / but now i wanna hold you" [me for Steve Rogers]

NO ONE ELSE - NATASHA, PIERRE AND THE GREAT COMET OF 1812. "maybe he'll come today, maybe he came already / and he's sitting in the drawing room / and I simply forgot."

WICKED LITTLE TOWN - HEDWIG AND THE ANGRY INCH. "and if you've got no other choice, just know you can follow my voice / through the dark turns and noise of this wicked little town" [@pietrothepoltergeist for Damon Salvatore x Enzo St.John]

OMAR SHARIF - THE BAND'S VISIT. "from the west, from the south / honey in my ear, spice in my mouth"

STAY - AMELIE: THE MUSICAL. "stay where you are / don't come too close and don't go too far" [@ambrosiase for Bucky Barnes]

HOW 'BOUT A DANCE - BONNIE & CLYDE: THE MUSICAL. "you'll lose the blues and you may lose your heart" [@lady-salvatore for Bucky Barnes]

I NEVER PLANNED ON YOU - NEWSIES. "i got no use for moonlight or sappy poetry / love at first sight's for suckers, at least it used to be" [ @hellotvshowtrash for Sam Wilson]

TOTALLY F*CKED - SPRING AWAKENING. "but the thing that makes you really jump / is that the weirdest shit is still to come"

MEMORY SONG - A STRANGE LOOP. "these are my memories, these are my memories"

WHAT IS THIS FEELING - WICKED. "loathing / unadulterated loathing"

A LITTLE FALL OF RAIN - LES MISERABLES. "a little fall of rain can hardly hurt me now / you're here, that's all I need to know" [@divine-mistake for Natasha Romanoff]

CHIP ON MY SHOULDER - LEGALLY BLONDE. "with the chance I've been given I'm gonna be driven as hell" [@loving-bucky-is-easier for Bucky Barnes]

IF YOU WERE GAY - AVENUE Q. "if you were gay / that'd be okay" [@romancherry for undecided]

PULLED - THE ADDAMS FAMILY. "i'm being pulled in a new direction / and i think i like it"

FALLING SLOWLY - ONCE THE MUSICAL. "i don't know you but i want to all the more for that" [@babycap for Steve Rogers]

TEN MINUTES AGO - ROGERS AND HAMMERSTEIN'S CINDERELLA. "i have found her she's an angel / with the dust of the stars in her eyes" [@auroracalisto for Steve Rogers]

THE NEXT TEN MINUTES - THE LAST FIVE YEARS. "will you share your life with me? / for the next ten minutes" [@yelenabelovq for Carol Danvers]

NO ONE IS ALONE - INTO THE WOODS. "someone is on your side / someone else is not." [@thesewordsareallihavetogive for undecided]

WITH YOU - GHOST THE MUSICAL. "you took my days with you / took my nights with you" [@elijahs-wife for undecided]

SHE USED TO BE MINE - WAITRESS. "she's imperfect but she tries / she is good but she lies" [ @brown-eyed-babes for Elijah Mikaelson]

LIFE BOAT - HEATHERS: THE MUSICAL. "if i say the wrong thing or i wear the wrong outfit / they'll throw me right over the side"

QUIET - MATILDA THE MUSICAL. "quiet like silence but not really silent / just that still sort of quiet"

NOEL'S LAMENT - RIDE THE CYCLONE. "i sing songs until the break of dawn / i embrace a new man every night"

DANCING QUEEN - MAMMA MIA. "see that girl, watch that scene / digging the dancing queen" [@mrs-maximoff-kenner for Lizzie Saltzman]

tagging some mutuals who seem like they've got a song in their heart:

@blueberrybelova, @buckyshairography, @golden-bucky, @mickey-henry, @ritesofreverie, @alittlebitofwords, @imgoingtofreakoutnow, @belladonnabarnes, @babycap, @brown-eyed-babes, @roger-that-cap, @tripleyeeet, @divine-mistake, @jamesqueerpotter, @auroracalisto, @thesewordsareallihavetogive, @dumble-daddy, @dizzydancingdreamer, @hellotvshowtrash, @lady-salvatore, @elijahs-wife, @mikaelsonsdeservedbetter

#writing challenge #ilana hits 300!#ip theater challenge #ilana writing challenge

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chilling-seavey · 3 years

Note

oh ok what about a blurb for sc where Daniel and Marigold go on their first date?

↳ A/N Such an iconic moment and such a simple yet special night🥺

↳ Word Count: 3793

↳ Seasons Change Taglist: @stuffofseaveyy @randomlimelightxxx @jonahlovescoffee @hiya-its-amber @hopinglimelight @onlyangelavery @sbrewer21 @bessonsbxtch @viamiasoncrack @the-girl-who-cried-wolf @21burritoseavey @queenseavey23 @xkelsev - Please click the link in my bio to be added to the taglist!

May 16, 2008

Daniel was sure that if he bit his lip any harder, he would draw blood. The high school hallways were bustling with students who all spoke and shouted over each other as they gathered their things after final bell before the weekend. The slamming of lockers and bumping of bodies didn’t even seem to phase Daniel as he stared right down the hallway to where Marigold was standing.

She had her hair in braids that day and she smiled so widely when Daniel gave her a weak compliment in first period. Even just thinking about it now had his stomach in knots. He had never been smooth and never been flirty and even that simple statement in passing made him nervous.

They had talked almost every day since they officially met in first period English. There was nothing Daniel looked forward to more than her sweet ‘Good morning, Daniel’ every day as she walked into the classroom and took her seat behind him. Talking with his friends at lunch led him to accept that he had a wholehearted crush on her and if he didn’t ask her out he would be royally doomed.

Thing is, Daniel made that realization only two weeks after they met and planned to ask her out on Valentine’s day but totally chickened out. Three months later, he was driving himself insane for putting it off so long. His friends said if he didn’t ask her out that week then they would do it for him and wouldn’t that be embarrassing.

It was Friday. After the last bell. He couldn’t put it off any longer.

With one more nervous pet to his hair and a straightening of his back, he made his way over. Marigold glanced up at him as he approached.

“Hey.” she grinned, “You never come visit me. What do I owe the pleasure?”

Daniel licked his lips nervously as he watched her tuck her binders into her rose patterned backpack.

When he didn’t answer, she looked back at him with a chuckle, “Hello?”

Daniel rose his eyes to hers and took a deep breath, “Do you wanna go out with me this weekend?”

A sweet smile played at the corner of Marigold’s mouth as she slung her zipped up bag over her shoulder and closed her locker, “I’m at my grandparents’ this weekend but I’m free tonight.”

Daniel’s eyes went wide, his breath stuttering in his chest for a moment, “Tonight? Tonight…y-yeah, okay, yeah, I can do tonight.”

“Okay.” Marigold nodded in agreement. “I gotta go…mom’s waiting…but message me on AIM with a time and place.”

“Yeah.” Daniel breathed out, watching her rush off past him with a hurried ‘bye!’ and into the hallway crowded with teenagers. He couldn’t hold back the little air punch in celebration for that and he hurried off into the crowd in the opposite direction before anyone could see his bit of a happy dance.

The moment Daniel got home, he was rushing towards the basement, “I need the computer! I need the computer!”

He nearly threw himself into the computer room, only to find his older brother already there.

“I’m mid-game.” Christian said without looking up. “You can have it after dinner.”

“No. No, no, I need it now. Please.” Daniel stood over him impatiently.

“For what?”

“None of your business.”

“I need to know to decide if it’s worth stopping my game.”

“It is! I need to get on AIM, like, now.”

Christian paused his playing and looked up at his brother, “Is it a girl?”

With the distraction that obviously worked, Daniel threw himself on his brother’s lap and unplugged the game controller and closed the window himself. Christian shouted at him in protest and Daniel did his best to hold his older brother back as he opened up AIM and found Marigold’s contact – labeled as ‘online’ - and drafted a super rushed message.

C u at 6 for dinner?

“Mom! Daniel is hogging the computer!” Christian shouted towards the stairs. “And rubbing his nasty butt on me!”

Daniel ignored him, muttering under his breath as he saw the typing icon pop up, “Come on, come on.”

Yes. Where?

I’ll pick u up

A smiley thumbs up emoticon came through as is reply just as Christian shoved him off his lap and onto the carpeted floor. Daniel only picked himself up with ease and tossed the controller at his older brother’s head.

“Go play your stupid game while I have a date with a real girl.”

He rushed for the stairs before Christian could smack him for the diss.

By 5:30, Daniel had showered and dressed in pants and a button-up and fixed his hair three times in the mirror in his room. He grabbed his jacket and keys and hurried for the door. He made it right out to the driveway before realizing he was forgetting something.

Marigold thought farther ahead than Daniel did – that wasn’t odd – and her address was waiting for him in their AIM messages when he returned to the computer. He scribbled it down on a scrap piece of paper and nearly tripped up the stairs on his way back upstairs to type it into the old GPS in his hand-me-down truck. Daniel wasn’t necessarily a clumsy guy but the nervousness that was pumping through him certainly made that his momentary unfortunate reality. He even forgot to take the car out of park before trying to back out of the driveway. A marigold flower that he had picked from his mother’s garden rested in the cupholder.

The robotic voice of the GPS led him through the suburban streets of West Hartford to a red brick Tudor house with lush gardens and a perfectly trimmed lawn. Daniel lingered in the driveway for a moment, staring up at the front door that was framed by two small lights, waiting for him. He took a deep breath, stepped out of his old truck, and walked cautiously up the few stone steps to the hedge trimmed front porch. He barely knocked on the wood door before it was pulled open, revealing Marigold on the other side.

His heart did a little skip.

“Hi.” she said sweetly.

Daniel tried to word his response as he stared at her with her long blonde hair left in their natural waves and her face dusted in light makeup. He finally got out a soft, “Hi. You…look so good.”

Marigold tucked her hair behind her ear, “Thank you. You look good too.”

Daniel shifted and held out the marigold flower to her, “I…would have brought more but this was kinda last minute.”

“Well aren’t you as sweet as sugar?” Marigold giggled as she took it from him and twirled it between her fingers, “But my favourite flowers are hydrangeas.”

“Shit.” Daniel muttered.

“Just remember for next time.” she said as she closed the front door behind her.

Daniel nodded lightly, “Next time.”

They headed to his truck and he opened the door for her and held out a hand to help her up the slightly large step into the passenger seat. Marigold thanked him with a smile and took his hand although the way she easily hopped in meant she really didn’t need any sort of help.

“Where are we going?” Marigold asked once Daniel turned the key in the rumbling ignition.

“It’s a surprise.” Daniel said, switching the truck into reverse and tucked his hand behind her chair to back out of the driveway.

Marigold smiled over at him, “I like surprises.”

“Don’t get your hopes up.” Daniel added quickly.

“Don’t second guess yourself.” she retorted, although her tone was gentle.

Their eyes met briefly from across the front seat of the truck and Daniel looked back quickly to the road, stuttering to a stop at a crosswalk. Marigold reached out a hand to the dashboard.

“Sorry.” Daniel said, “Not quite used to driving this thing yet.”

“That’s okay.” Marigold said easily. “I can’t drive at all so you’re already impressing me.”

Daniel smiled to himself as he continued driving more towards the centre of town. Marigold hummed softly and tucked the flower behind her ear, pulling down the sun visor to look in the small mirror to make sure it was sitting nicely.

“It’s a gorgeous shade of yellow. Did you grow it yourself?” she asked, tapping the petals gently before shutting the visor again.

“No.” Daniel chuckled. “My mom did. I don’t…know a lot about gardening.”

“What a shame.” Marigold tisked. “I love it.”

Her eyes went wide as they turned into a parking lot and she gasped as she threw out her hand to touch his arm. Daniel was sure shivers tore down his spine at her simple touch and he glanced over at her in surprise.

“Are we going to Wendy’s?” she asked.

“Is that okay?” Daniel retorted quickly.

“Yes!” Marigold grinned, clapping her hands together a little in excitement. “Wendy’s is my favourite!”

Daniel let the truck drift to a stop in the drive-thru lineup and he looked over at her, “Really? It’s mine too.”

“Wow. We sit next to each other for three entire months and yet we are still learning about each other.”

“I mean we talk more about Shakespeare than fast food and flowers in class but…yeah.” Daniel chuckled.

Marigold smiled at him, the sweetest giggle falling from her lips, and the dim lights from the restaurant sign and almost setting sun outside the windows cast a pretty yellow glow across her face. Daniel was sure he had never seen anything or anyone as beautiful.

She told him her order and he paid at the window and passed her the takeout bag to hold as he pulled out of the drive-thru. Marigold peeked open the bag and snuck a fry for herself before taking a second and holding it out in front of Daniel’s nose. He smiled shyly and leaned in to let her feed it to him as he drove. She folded up the top of the takeout bag and let her gaze drift out the window as they headed towards the outskirts of town.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

“You’ll see.” Daniel answered casually.

Marigold glanced over at him as he was focused on the road and she let a small smile come to her lips. He had this seriousness about him when he drove, or maybe that was just his first date jitters taking over, as his bottom lip stayed wedged between his teeth and his hands stayed wrapped around the steering wheel. He took them out of the suburbs and into the outskirts of town where the buildings moulded into farmland and the street lamps turned into rickety telephone wires. Daniel - who only had his license for a few months - drove extra cautiously as pavement turned into dirt roads. The sun was still just over the horizon but was dropping quickly and the hues of sunset were fluttering through the truck and across their faces.

Daniel finally pulled into an alcove at the side of the road, down a slightly narrow dirt path that somewhat resembled someone’s driveway. Marigold simply held their takeout bag on her lap and trusted his process. He did a slightly rusty three-point-turn to reverse at the end of the path and then parked.

“Where are we?” Marigold asked with a slightly nervous giggle.

“Come.” Daniel opened the door and hopped out onto the dirt below. Marigold followed him around the truck with the takeout bag and he opened the back to reveal the bed of the truck made up with blankets and pillows.

Marigold bit back her smile and turned over her shoulder to the vast expanse of farmland beyond and a perfect view of the sunset and the outskirts of the city in the distance.

“Is it stupid? You can tell me.” Daniel said quickly.

“No.” she answered right away. “I really love this.”

“Good because my other option was bowling and I really suck at bowling.” Daniel sighed.

Marigold laughed sweetly and climbed up into the back of the truck. He followed quickly and they got the pillows arranged to rest back on with the blankets under them to prevent the hard plastic of the truck bed from becoming too uncomfortable. They split their food and ate on their laps while watching the sunset. Daniel was almost too nervous to eat - he felt like he might be sick any moment - but he ate anyway and focused on the soft humming coming from the pretty blonde girl beside him.

“How’d you find this spot?” Marigold finally asked.

“By chance, honestly.” Daniel shrugged. “I was practicing my driving before I got my full license and I was up around here and pulled over to answer a call from my mom and...I dunno...it looked kinda nice.”

Marigold nodded in agreement through a bite of her burger before answering, “It is kinda nice.”

“You’re the first person I’ve taken here.”

“Oh really?” Marigold smiled over at him, “I’m glad. Maybe this can be our spot.”

Daniel bit his lip to prevent himself from smiling as wide as he possibly could back at her and he nodded, “Okay.”

They finished their meals in near silence and by the time the sun finally dipped below the horizon and sent the land into near darkness, they rested back against the pillows comfortably. Daniel pulled up one of the blankets over their laps to keep warm as night fell and the temperature started to drop. Marigold was entranced by the views, her gaze unwavering as she stared up at the stars starting to appear across the inky sky.

“You can never see the stars from town.” she whispered.

Daniel looked from her up to the sky himself and smiled lightly at the blinking stars staring back at them.

“They’re so pretty.” Marigold said.

He looked back over at her, certainly finding her much prettier than the stars. He couldn’t believe she was really truly there with him - after months of psyching himself out and putting it off. She was the prettiest girl in the whole school, Daniel was sure of it, not to mention the sweetest and thinking about the fact that she so easily agreed to go out with him made his heart jump in his chest.

As if reading his thoughts, she asked, “Why’d you want to ask me out?”

Daniel was startled by her question and when he didn’t answer right away she looked back at him expectantly.

“I...You...were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen when you walked into the classroom at the start of term and...so nice to me and so...sweet and...I’ve had a serious crush on you for weeks now but I was too scared to ever do anything about it.”

Marigold lolled her head back against the rear window of the truck and listened so intently to him that you’d think he was preaching the gospel.

“So why now?” she challenged.

“Truth?” Daniel asked.

She nodded.

“My friends said if I didn’t ask you out by the end of the week, they’d do it for me and I don’t think I could ever recover from that embarrassment if they did.”

“Ah, so you waited for the eleventh hour?” Marigold giggled.

“Yeah.” Daniel laughed lightly, looking back down to his lap where he was picking nervously at the loose threads on the blanket draped over them.

Marigold spoke quietly to him, her eyes focused on his face even when he wasn’t looking back at her, “Well you know I’m not shy by any means but...I kinda always got a little nervous around you.”

Daniel finally looked back at her, “What? Really?”

She bit her smiling lip and nodded, “I kinda had a serious crush on you too. I’d get all nervous before first period because I knew I’d be seeing you.”

“Shut up. You did not.” Daniel blushed, looking away from her shyly.

“I did. I did, I swear.” Marigold giggled. “You were just so cute and quiet and made me feel like a little kid all shy.”

“You shoulda told me.” Daniel mumbled, his cheeks flushed pink.

Marigold nudged him, “You shoulda told me.”

They looked back out to the stars, smiling to themselves quietly at the confessions of the other. By the light of the stars, Marigold slid her hand out and brushed over his wrist ever so gently. His eyebrows furrowed a moment in confusion and turned his left hand out palm up as if expecting her to pass him something but all she did was slide her fingers into his and held his hand. Daniel kept his eyes on the sky but gladly kept a snug grip on her hand, ignoring the sickening sweet butterflies that flew around in his stomach.

“My mom says I can get too friendly sometimes so if I cross a line just tell me.” Marigold said.

“You’re fine.” Daniel assured her with a whisper.

She shuffled closer and leaned her head on his shoulder and he swore the feeling of her so close had the most blissful warmth radiating throughout his whole body. He gently rubbed his thumb over hers and she gave his hand a squeeze. Is this what heaven felt like? Daniel never wanted to leave. Just to sit forever just them and the stars.

They sat just like that for a while, sharing whispered conversations about home and their families and their favourite movies. Even when their palms got a little clammy as the minutes moulded into hours, they didn’t move from their spot.

Their spot.

Curfew approached faster than they would have liked to admit and Daniel turned to look at her in their close proximity. Their noses touched as she was still leaned up into his side but she just brushed hers over his and they shared little shy giggles. He could have kissed her right then and there. The stars sparkled in her light blue eyes and he could feel the warmth of her body against his and she was staring at him like she wanted him to.

Daniel shifted slowly and dusted a kiss over her cheek instead before slipping his hand out of hers, “We should head back.”

His shyness made her smile and she let her gaze linger on him a moment longer as he gathered their empty takeout bag and shifted the blanket off of their laps. Daniel never often noticed the way she stared at him when he wasn’t paying attention, always with that same soft smile and adoring light eyes, ever since that very night of their very first date.

Daniel mentally beat himself up the entire drive back into town for not kissing her. The opportunity was right there and he chickened out. As they pulled into Marigold’s driveway, he told himself he was going to kiss her and end the date as it should end. He parked and took a deep breath before looking over at her.

“Thank you for tonight.” Marigold smiled. “I had fun.”

“You’re welcome.” Daniel replied quickly.

“Dinner was great...the stars...everything...it was incredible.”

Daniel only nodded, trying to find that perfect beat of silence so he could go for it but Marigold wasn’t really one to ever stop talking.

“I haven’t really been on dates before...but this one was certainly my favourite. Even the flower. Especially the flower.” she touched the yellow marigold that was still tucked behind her ear before grabbing her small purse and opened the door.

“I’ll walk you up.” Daniel said hurriedly and jumped out of the truck with her.

He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his pants as they headed up the front steps and she smiled widely at him.

“What a gentleman.” she complimented, a hint of teasing in her tone just to make him blush.

She reached for the door handle but turned back to him almost expectantly. Daniel almost went for it but she spoke again.

“So...are we dating then?”

Her question took Daniel by surprise but she smiled sweetly at him as she waited for his answer.

He licked his lips nervously but nodded, “Yeah. I’d...I’d like that.”

“Daniel, will you be my boyfriend?”

“I’m supposed to ask you!”

“You asked me on the date so it’s only fair I can ask you to date me.”

“That’s...that’s not...Marigold, will you be my girlfriend?”

“Only if you agree to be my boyfriend.”

“You’re so stubborn, oh my gosh.” Daniel laughed nervously.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yeah, obviously.”

“Yeah, obviously.” Marigold giggled, using his words as her reply too, their momentary banter falling into silence.

This was the moment.

Daniel stepped closer to her and leaned down slightly, sliding his hand to the side of her neck and gently tilted her head up towards him. They were only a mere inch apart before the front door was tugged open and Marigold, who still had her hand on the handle, went stumbling backwards with a gasp.

“Mari!”

Marigold turned to her younger sister with a huff, “What, Iris? What is it?”

The blonde girl in the doorway - who looked a heck of a lot like Marigold apart from her slightly darker blonde hair and much greener eyes - continued loudly, “Do you know where my purple skirt is? I need it for this weekend!”

“You couldn’t have waited two more minutes for me to come inside?” Marigold scolded lightly.

Daniel shifted shyly on his feet and kept his hands in his pockets as she reprimanded her little sister.

“Hey,” the younger teenager looked past her to Daniel, “Aren’t you Anna Seavey’s brother?”

Daniel nodded stiffly, “Yeah.”

“Jesus! She’s like the coolest freshman in the entire school. Mari, are you dating Anna’s brother?!”

“Iris! You’re being rude. And don’t say Jesus.”

“Okay, but have you seen my skirt? Can you help me find it?”

Daniel chuckled at Marigold’s obviously unimpressed expression but she sighed in defeat, always too nice for her own good.

“Fine. I’m coming.” Marigold looked back to Daniel, “Sorry.”

He waved his hand between them casually, “Nah, it’s fine.”

“I’ll see you on Monday.” she smiled. “Thanks again for tonight.”

Daniel nodded and watched her be pulled inside by her fourteen-year-old sister. He lingered on her front porch for a moment before exhaling deeply and running his hands through his hair. Merely a few hours before he was pathetically pining over this girl from his english class and suddenly, by nightfall, he was her boyfriend.

Daniel drove home in his hand-me-down pickup truck that lingered with the scent of her floral drugstore perfume. No junior would ever say this, but he couldn’t wait until Monday.

#my taglist keeps not working so im trying it at the top of my posts to see if that changes anything lol #🌼#daniel seavey #why dont we #daniel seavey imagines #why dont we imagines #daniel seavey oneshots #why dont we oneshots

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captainseaweedbrains · 3 years

Text

The Hunger Games: Ch. 5

I am finally getting around to writing up thoughts. Life am I right? So I’m not only behind, but starting a bit later on my chapter thoughts.

Here are my rambling thoughts and emotions on chapter 5:

"Good news, though. This is the last one. Ready?" I get a grip on the edges of the table I'm seated on and nod. The final swathe of my leg hair is uprooted in a painful jerk.// Girl, I feel you. We’ve all been there. #Noshaveforever

This has included scrubbing down my body with a gritty loam that has removed not only dirt but at least three layers of skin// It’s called exfoliating, Katniss, and I promise, it is good for your skin. If they can do one thing for you, it is this.

Okay. Like Katniss, I have a soft spot for her prep team. I can’t help it. They feel like they mean well and I’m a sucker for it. Even if they are prepping her for death. 💀

He gives his orange corkscrew locks a shake and applies a fresh coat of purple lipstick to his mouth.// I wonder if SC thought of the most gaudiest looks and just rolled with it. Probably. But some of these outfit choices just seem so out there that I have such a hard time picturing it. Am I alone on this? My fashion sense is that of a bygone era. So maybe that’s why. What is high fashion? Not me. That’s what.

Octavia, a plump woman whose entire body has been dyed a pale shade of pea green // Why would you want to look like a Sim? Why is that in style here?

"Excellent! You almost look like a human being now!" says Flavius, and they all laugh.

I force my lips up into a smile to show how grateful I am. "Thank you," I say sweetly. "We don't have much cause to look nice in District Twelve."

This wins them over completely. // Katniss!! I love you. Never change. I do love how other worldly each party sees the other. Maybe it’s a comment on colonialism in that sense shut up Terri Your English degree is showing BUT how Katniss views them as strange birds rightly so because one legit probably looks like a Sim and them viewing her as NOT HUMAN even though she definitely looks the more normal in the room and I stand by that Where was I going with this? It just feels a bit Two Worlds colliding. Okay. Moving on.

Just how filthy was Katniss? Like she definitely bathed before coming. Twice in one day. So what is their standard here? I don’t want it because it’s probably too much effort. #lazy

It's hard to hate my prep team. They're such total idiots.// My thoughts exactly.

I cannot stress how much I love how blunt SC makes Katniss’ thoughts. It feels so human to me and I don’t always see that in writing. It’s nice.

Am I alone on wondering if Cinna has that eyeliner tattooed on? I don’t know why that’s always my first thought with the second being “ouch.”

I do love how Katniss is always thrown when her pre-perceptions of the Capitol are challenged by *the few* people like Cinna.

I saw someone point out how Katniss remembers a lot of details like the stylists and past years winners and their strategies and I’m wondering if it’s more like how I know stuff on like the Kardashians that I don’t really want to know or care about knowing. Just facts living in her head rent free. But she remembers a lot of details on the Games.

He presses a button on the side of the table. The top splits and from below rises a second tabletop that holds our lunch.// The future 1950s ads promised and Disney Channel’s Smart House made those in my generation fear. That or a super fancy automat.

Unpopular opinion, but I absolutely hate when Katniss goes on about the food and how to make dishes. I think it’s so boring to read. Even one sentence about what everyone is eating dulls me.

What must it be like, I wonder, to live in a world where food appears at the press of a button?//Okay, I know we kind of already have this luxury to an extent, but I too want to press a button and my food is magically there, in my home, already made. #queenlazy

My heart saddens when Katniss wonders what people do in their free time. She is a CHILD. *cries*

Okay. So I know Katniss has boasted about concealing her thoughts, but is she REALLY good at it? She gets called out a lot by practical strangers. I will cling to my headcanon that she is truly an open book and just believes she’s sneaky like that and Peeta pretends she’s succeeding at later in life. Is this canon? Maybe? Don’t @ me

SC’s commentary of sexualizing young teens and kiddos is amazing and yes, please keep coming at us like this, Suzanne.

Also those poor, naked children. Not only were they going to their deaths, but they literally were paraded around on national television buck naked.

I'll be naked for sure, I think...Naked and covered in black dust, I think.//An example of why I just love her narration. I crack up every time at the clear doom in her “voice”

He sees my expression and grins.//A true madman because I can only assume her face is that of horror.

I am still mad at the scaly-looking outfits the movie gave us and how they made her hair look

It crosses my mind that Cinna's calm and normal demeanor masks a complete madman.//He is a madman. We accept it and move on from here

*Peeta enters* *Cue my glee*

*He is my favorite and that favoritism will show*

*Listen I am here for the messages on war and our consumer culture SC is providing*

*But I will not hide why I’m really here rereading these books*

*WEEPS* SHE IS RELIEVED TO SEE PEETA

"What do you think?" I whisper to Peeta. "About the fire?"

"I'll rip off your cape if you'll rip off mine," he says through gritted teeth.//Don’t touch me. The teamwork they already share.

Haha I just imagine Peeta has that big smile on his face all “Haha I want to die right now”

THEY’RE LAUGHING. Precious beans.

I guess we're both so nervous about the Games and more pressingly, petrified of being turned into human torches, we're not acting sensibly.// That or you both are talking to your crushes and are feeling giddy about it. Don’t deny it Katniss. We see you

Lmao Katniss’ enthusiasm for D1 cracks me up

Cinna over here just lighting people on fire and relieved it worked properly. This man, I swear

She calls him dazzling. Be still my heart.

Also I still don’t understand the true purpose of Cinna presenting them as united. Maybe I’ll get a refresher later on. Is it just to make them stand out more because they’re united? I don’t understand this angle at all. So #SameKatnissSame

Lmao or maybe Peeta’s the one who is all “Idk, but *sings* I wanna hold your hand...”

Or not. But you bet Peeta is pumped. He’s not naked on national television and he’s holding his crush’s hand. Peak day for Peeta Bram Mellark, with all things given.

I do hope they are waving correctly.

I'm glad now I have Peeta to clutch for balance, he is so steady, solid as a rock.//I’m FINE. Totally FINE that this will be how she views him for the rest of the series. FINE.

Narrator: She was not fine.

How absolutely sad that she mentions how the Capitolites took the effort to look in the program for their names. How they waste CHILDREN’S LIVES.

But I shall focus on her gaining confidence and Katniss Everdeen legit getting caught up in the moment where she is blowing kisses at them. The power of a great outfit, amirite?

Someone throws me a red rose. I catch it, give it a delicate sniff, and blow a kiss back in the general direction of the giver. A hundred hands reach up to catch my kiss, as if it were a real and tangible thing.//Oh my god. So Extra

Everyone wants my kisses.//Peeta wants those kisses

"No, don't let go of me," he says. The firelight flickers off his blue eyes. "Please.// I am crying as I think about their interaction in the same square in Mockingjay, when she tries to take the nightlock pill and he stops her. “I’ll never let go, Jack”

SC can describe Snow however she wants, I will forever see Donald Sutherland and only that. Even when Snow is a teenager I picture Donald. The power of Donald Sutherland.

I love that she doesn’t realize she’s still holding his hand. If Portia had enough time to spray them down, she’s been holding on for awhile. Katniss, explanation? 👀 👀 👀 👀 👀

"I'm sure they didn't notice anything but you. You should wear flames more often," he says. "They suit you." And then he gives me a smile that seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warmth rushes through me. // AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

SHE FEELS WARMTH RUSH THROUGH HER

THE SHY FLIRTING

PEETA, YOU SHY SLY BEAN OF A FOX

The more likable he is, the more deadly he is.//Yeah, for catching a dangerous thing called FEELINGS.

Katniss, how does *kissing* him help matters here? You clearly caught wind he was flirting and your first thought was *le kiss* ???????

These two, I swear

And Katniss is just so smol having to stand on her *tiptoes* to kiss his cheek. #teamsmol

Onward to the next chapter!

#The Hunger Games #thgagain #My thoughts #Terri reads The Hunger Games #Books

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plush-rabbit · 4 years

Text

Can I Ask You Something?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

You’re in the middle of getting ready, a brush in hand when you freeze. Your ears burn with embarrassment and disbelief- you really had talked to some random stranger on the internet and offered your number to them! And if that wasn’t the worst part, you don’t even know what they looked like, or even know their name! And you told them your name! And even gave them your phone number! You bury your face in your hands and let out a pitiful groan. God, you were always so open and vulnerable when you were half-asleep but this just takes the cake.

“I did want more friends,” you muttered to yourself. “Plus he doesn’t seem too creepy. Maybe he’s just insecure or something with his appearance. Maybe it’s a quirk thing.” You try to reason to yourself, your words not holding much conviction and a swarm of butterflies beginning to form in your stomach, swirling and making you nauseous with anxiety.

You glance at your phone and check your messages. You had received no new messages and the part of you that craved acceptance was disappointed, your ego hurt and the sick feeling of shame taking over.

“Maybe this is for the best, I don’t even know his name,” your voice was quiet and unsure. You tried to convince yourself, the butterflies that began to flutter last night were now a rampaging swarm that made you feel like they would burst out at any second and all your anxieties and fears would consume and feast on your broken body.

Your eyes grew wide and you covered your head. Broken gasps left you, everything too hot all of a sudden, the clothes on you were no longer fresh and left you feeling like an imposter wearing your skin, that the minute you would walk out of the comfort of your own home, you would be mocked and laughed at. You were finding it harder to breathe and you clawing at your chest through your clothes, tears burning in the corners of your eyes. As your vision began to blur, your chest heaving and heart pumping that you felt it would burst out, you phone vibrated against the counter, a loud, invading buzz making you flinch. Rising on shaky legs, you picked up your phone and wiped a clammy hand down the side of your jeans, the scratchy feeling bringing you back to reality. You forced yourself to look at the screen, desperate for any kind of distraction, for the heaviness in your chest to lighten.

Your vision blurred and tears made their way down your face. With the back of your hand, you wiped them away, sniffling and shook your free hand. You focused on where a notification had appeared on the lock screen, an unregistered number popping up with a simple message of ‘hello’. And with a sense of focus, everything felt a bit more breathable. You cleared your throat, forced back the lump in your throat and opened the new message.

It took you a moment to register who it was. You could only guess that it was him, you really couldn’t remember giving your number out to other strangers. You snorted and shook your head. Fingers danced over the screen, typing out your reply, a shaky smile already forming on your lips.

You:

{Look at you messaging me first. Never thought I’d see the day:’)}

You waited with bated breath, going through other options of how you could have replied him before shaking your head- that was probably one of the better ways to respond to him- he was sarcastic, you could be playful and tease him and the former would just throw an insult your way or deflect the question. With breaths finally returning to normal, took a deep breath and went to prepare yourself a sandwich before you ventured off.

You returned to a silent phone, the message marked with “Read” and you cleared your throat. You saved his number under his nickname.

You tried to relax yourself, that while he had a very strong idea of who you were and that it wouldn’t be all that difficult to find who you are, there was no real danger to who you were talking to. The bread underneath your fingertips was indented. You’d be fine in the end. You were just overreacting. In the middle of a bite, your phone buzzed, the message icon displaying across the upper screen.

Toma:

[I already regret this]

You quickly typed out a message, not wanting to lose this playful banter. At least it was playful to you. He was already hard to read when you’d hear his voice, but now that it through pure text, you had no idea what his tone was, what he really could be thinking and what he actually wanted to say before being deleted and retyped.

You:

{And yet you still reply:P}

You thought it was best to skip over the pleasantries, figuring out that he probably didn’t want to talk about how he slept or hearing of the weird dreams that you had that night. No, he seemed more like the type to get to the point, to just say what he’s thinking and act impulsively, not thinking about the repercussions or perhaps not even caring about them if there were any.

Toma:

[Getting your number was a mistake]

You let out a laugh. The feeling In your stomach had already been muted by your lunch, but now it seemed to rise up, wanting to remind you that your anxieties still had you on a tight leash, one that choked you and beg for air.

You:

{So how come you messaged me first??}

{I don’t mind it!! I had a fun time last night:) But I didn’t think you did, which is fine but you could’ve not messaged me}

{Sooo,,, I don’t know where I’m going with this://}

Shigaraki stared at the screen, his upper lip curled into a sneer and red eyes in narrowed slits. If he were to be honest, he had only messaged you because he was bored. It had been a particularly slow day at the League, plans having been changed to another day, meetings having already been done earlier and it was a rare for them to get a day where they had it to themselves- where they didn’t need to plan or worry about if this would be their last day on this miserable planet.

But that rare moment of peace never extended to him. Shigaraki always had to plan. He had to be one step ahead of everyone- he can’t risk a day, an hour, a minute- he had to go over everything until he was sure there were no faults in his plans. Yet, on this day, his head was foggy, muddled with insecurities he wouldn’t dare speak out, and starting to hurt with a combination from lack of sleep and staring at the same plans that constantly shifted, always finding a flaw.

His hands were clasped in front of him, fingers massaging into his skin. His eyes slowly closed and he released a long exhale. His skin itched and burned and his patience was already wearing thin. Red eyes leer at the phone that sits on his desk, screen black and silent.

The phone was almost always silent, only used for a few messages that were sent to him by members of the League or notifications of mobile games. However, his phone now buzzes with your messages, with mundane conversations as if you were talking to an old friend. You talk to him as if he were an ordinary person who had a family and didn’t risk his life by his mere existence.

Yet, that wasn’t who he was. He was a killer, one of Japan’s most wanted, someone who could and would kill you with just a touch of his hand. As far as you were concerned, he wasn’t any of that. He doesn’t know what compels him to message you, he knows he doesn’t want a slice of normalcy, he has a dream and the will to do it and you were just going to be a distraction, a small weight tying him down. He shakes his head and types a message to you, the words disappearing and reappearing as he figures out what to say, and a small part of him, one that he will deny even in death, wants you to reply back to him, wants to have a small distraction for a second even if it’s from someone that doesn’t know who he truly is.

Toma:

[I was bored]

He doesn’t have to wait long for your reply, you come eager and begging for his attention, trying to hold on it.

You:

{Yeah, that’s valid}

{What are you up to?}

He wonders if you really are interested in what he’s doing or it it’s courtesy that you’ve extended to him. He bites down on his lip, gnawing on it until it stings as he reads your words. He reasons to himself that there really is no harm in talking to you- this friendship that you’ve made up in your mind won’t go on longer for a month, it’ll stay purely through messaging until one of you grows bored and then you would both part ways- you would go on to live an ordinary life and he would change the world or die trying. But death was never going to be an option for him- he’d bare his teeth and bite until blood was flowing before he would die.

He was aware that he when he messaged, he wasn’t the most expressive person, his replies often one-worded and blunt and even though you messaged him with what he felt was full enthusiasm and adding emoticons, he was going to stick to his messaging style.

Shigaraki let out another sigh. He just wanted to take a break from his notes, for just a second. But he couldn’t shake off your question. Why had he messaged you? Was it simply to feel a bit of normalcy? Last night, you were the one to give him your number, he hadn’t exchanged his so he could have easily not have messaged you. But he was bored and exhausted from finding a flaw in every plan, angry dark marks etched on the paper, balls of crumbled up paper littering the floor, and broken pencils. He clears his throat. He just wanted a second of mindless distraction.

He ponders if he should actually tell you what he really is doing, he wonders if you’d take him seriously or if you’d think he was joking and play along. But he can’t risk it. Not unless he could dispose of you right away. The chair creaks as he leans back on it, staring at your message, he makes something up- a simple mundane task that everyone does.

Toma:

[Grocery shopping]

On the other side of the screen, you perked up. Messaging wasn’t always your strongest suit, you had enough trouble reading people’s intentions and tone when you were face to face to face with them. But to add a screen in between the parties with no tone control, just words that could have been spoken in a number of ways, it made you nervous. You were always left wondering if the other people on the side of screen had wanted to stop the conversation, if your sarcasm was reached over with the help of an emoticon or if the messaged had made you seem like stuck-up.

Messaging with the stranger that you had met online certainly didn’t help ease your worries. He was always harsh when you two would play. There was always a hint of annoyance, a backhanded compliment tossed at you every now and then, a snide remark when someone would mess up. It was easy to say that he wasn’t the nicest and yet, you still offered to message him, to talk to him more and reach out a hand towards him. And he took your hand. You didn’t want this acquaintanceship to die of so quickly, you didn’t want to read every word he sent you through scrutinizing eyes, you just wanted to talk to him for a bit.

“Just don’t overthink it. Don’t be so weird about it,” you told yourself, letting out a breath.

You:

Oh, that’s neat! What are you getting?

I need to go shopping soon. My snack stash is running low:(((

The sandwich at the table looked unappetizing. You were so awful at making conversation it was almost funny. Almost.

The phone buzzed against the table; the loud, shrill noise making you cringe and gulp down the last bits of your drink.

Toma

[Snack stash?]

He was dodging the question. The innate want of wanting to pry bubbled up but you were aware that it was an odd thing to ask why a person wanted to avoid such a simple question so you buried the feeling down. There was no point in making a mountain out a mole hill.

You:

{Yeah, a stash with all my favorite snacks}

{I don’t like going out too often so I always make sure that I have plenty of snacks to last me a while}

{Plus it’s good practice for self-control lmao}

His replies stopped shortly after that. Your fingers nervously tapped on the counter as you waited, perking up when your phone buzzed but deflating when it was another notification. You shook your head. You didn’t want to be so caught up on messaging one person. You shouldn’t get your feelings hurt over something so trivial. You wanted to believe those words but it was hard to. You didn’t know why he had such an effect on you; it wasn’t like you’ve seen his face or had an actual conversation with him. But the thought of the potential friendship was nice.

A low groan was held in the back of your throat. Your hands raided the pantry, pulling out bags of chips that contained crumbs, crackers, a box with one packet of fruit gummies. Your shoulders drooped and you glanced at your phone once more. You glanced out the window and clicked your tongue.

It wasn’t too late. There was still a bit of daylight out, the streetlights illuminating the streets with a soft orange glow. “I need more snacks,” you whispered to yourself, your hand touching your stomach and clenching the fabric of your shirt.

Leaves crunched under your foot, weeds in between cracks flattening and blowing with what little breeze was out. The sun was setting casting the city is a deep orange and pink glow. It wasn’t a long walk from where you lived to the nearest convenience store, your bag bounced against your hip as you walked, your phone placed inside to keep from falling out of your back pocket. The wind rustled your hair, a fresh breeze that cooled you down from the humidity in the air.

You had your head in the clouds, making a mental check list on the things you needed. You clicked your tongue, pulling a sour face and regretting that you didn’t properly check your cabinets before you left. However, when you were at your apartment, you were busy thinking about other things- or rather someone else. You started thinking about your new online friend for what must’ve been an unhealthy amount of times in the time that you’ve known him. You wanted to know more about him but you knew that if you pushed he would’ve retreated. You had a forlorn look on your face as you thought about what you could do to improve the friendship between the both of you but you felt sick about forcing him into a friendship that he didn’t want.

A bell interrupted your thoughts as you entered the store. The cold air from the air conditioner provided you relief from the outside. The cashier welcomed you, meeting your eyes for a brief second before they continued their transaction with an already existing customer. There was a current pop song playing low in the speakers, the lyrics filling your mind and pushing out any other thoughts. You smiled back at them, waving your hand before grabbing a plastic basket and walking in between the aisles, your hands picking things up and dropping them in the basket.

You made your way to the back of the store, the chill air coming from the freezers making the hair on your arms stand on their ends. Your eyes analyzed the doors, looking for any other treats you’d might like, frost creeping from edges of the door to the center. Plastic snowflakes and little stickers of soda bottles and tubs of ice cream with smiling faces decorated the frosty doors.

You licked your lips and looked down at your full basket. You shook your head and decided to get the frozen treats, opting to walk quickly back home so the treats wouldn’t freeze. The condensation expels from the door, your eyes narrowing as it stings you.

There’s movement in the corner of your eyes and you see a figure standing a door away from you. Their back was hunched and a hand was placed on their chin, eyes scanning the chilled food that laid inside. His eyes made eye contact and you smiled nervously, quickly returning your gaze and grabbing the ice pops inside. You scurried off to the register, hand clutching the handle of the bag tight.

The cashier made small talk with you, commenting about the day and scanning the items and placing them in a plastic bag. You heard steps approach behind you and handed the cashier the money, telling them thank you and to have a good day.

Dark clouds covered the sky, a chill wind has replaced the humidity, and you begin your trek back home. You smile at passing people, the bags heavy in your hands there’s a fear that they’ll rip from the handles before you reach your place. Cars drive past you, yellow and white lights illuminating you for a second and casting shadows that stretch across the concrete.

A large shadow appears behind you, overtaking your own shadow and it stills when you pause in your steps. You straighten your back and turn around, eyes widening for a split second before you smile at the man behind you.

He’s lanky and tall, limbs look a bit too long and he has short cropped hair. He smiles back at you and it sends a chill down your spine. He’s the same guy from the freezer aisle. You notice there’s less people around, the cars passing by in fewer numbers and you speed our pace. Thunder cracks overhead and the smell of rain fills the air. The steps behind you quicken. Your jaw tightens and you try to force yourself to relax. The odds of being interrupted in your commute are low. It’s about to rain so maybe they’re just running for cover.

“Hi!” His voice is cheery and eyes are wide. “Listen, I saw you in the store.” His hands are moving as he talks and he matches your pace. He either fails to notice the look of discomfort on your face or he simply doesn’t care. You glance around trying to find someone who could help you but the streets are empty, wind rustles and picks up fallen leaves making them dance in the wind. He babbles on, pausing when you do and he shoves his hands in his pocket but his arms are still moving.

“I-uh, listen,” you try to interject but he continues to talk, his voice speaking over yours and it makes you bite the inside of your cheeks. “Listen, I have to go home.” You say firmly, and turn away from the man. You walk away, your feet hurting from the hard stomps on the concrete.

His voice begins to call out to you, and he tells you to wait up but you continue your walk not wanting to look back and it begins to mist. You feel your skin begin to crawl. He stills calls behind you, and you bags in our hand begin to grow heavier. There’s a passing thought that your ice pops might melt. You feel as if you’ve been walking forever, your legs growing tired and chest lacking air, your body heats up and the sound of the thunder covers the man’s voice.

There’s a sharp tug on your elbow, the plastic bags bounce around and hit your thigh. You rip your arm free and the man’s face grows twisted and eyes darken to an amber hue. “Listen, I just wanted to ask for your number,” his tone is annoyed and eyes roll, “but now that you’re acting—”

“Okay! Bye!” You shout, and tug your arm free. You walk away from him quick, the bags slap against you and you just want to head home already.

You walk into your apartment, kicking your shoes off and dropping the bags on the floor in the kitchen. You quickly shove the ice pops into the freezer, opting to check their condition later.

Your elbow burns at where you were touched. You gingerly touch the crease of your elbow, fingertips feeling as if they’re touching something that doesn’t belong. You shake your head. You grab a paper towel and wipe your face; the mist from the rain has left your feeling icky and uncomfortable wet.

You grab a pack of sweets from the bag, choosing to put everything away later. Your bag is tossed onto the coffee table falling with a dull thud. You flop onto the couch, the sweets tasting sour on your tongue. It slides down heavy in your throat and you toss the bag on the coffee table.

You think back to what the man had said. He grabs your arm and chases you down from the convenience store because he wanted your number. Bile rises in the back of your throat and you grip your shirt into clumps. You can still feel the clamminess of his hand on your elbow. You swipe it away with a rough drag of your hand.

“I basically did the same thing with Toma,” you whisper to yourself. “Granted it wasn’t as rough but you still bothered him enough.” Your face shines a bright red that burns your face.

You sigh and close your eyes, furrowing your eyebrows together and opening them up when your phone buzzes in your bag. You turn to face it and with lazy movements, you pull it out and glance at the notification. Tomaraki’s name pops up. A smile forms on your face before you smother it down feeling guilty. You click on his notification and his messages fill the screen.

Toma:

[Just do whatever you want]

[Its snacks who gives a fuck]

You:

{Yeah, you’re right}

{Hey, I’m feeling kind of shitty, message me later if ya want}

You don’t have the energy or clear mind to continue a conversation with him and you didn’t want to waste his time if he was busy or something. You laid back on the couch, placing the phone on your chest and you thought that maybe if you fell asleep, you’d wake up feeling better.

“Nothing bad happened to you, just a comment that sounded bad,” you thought to yourself, hands clenching your shirt above your stomach. Your eyes grew heavy and you could feel yourself slipping into a nap when the phone buzzes on your chest. You groan and check the phone, squinting your eyes at the light.

Toma:

[Fine]

You frown and feel worse- the sinking feeling in your stomach grows heavier. What if he thought that you were mad at him because he replied late? What if he thought that you didn’t want to talk to him anymore? Oh god. You really hated overthinking. Your covers your eyes with the balls of your hands, colors pop behind your closed eyelids.

You:

{I just had a shitty encounter is all, I’ll feel better after I nap}

{Message me in like an hour if you want:P}

Shigaraki stares at his phone annoyance. He hadn’t asked for an explanation but he did feel a bit more at ease. From the few conversations that you have had with him, you had always seemed rather chipper, like an excitable pup, albeit a bit awkward but you never really seemed to be in a bad mood. A part of him wanted to know what happened and he knew that if he asked, you would tell him.

Toma:

[What happened?]

Your eyes furrowed at the message. You wanted to tell him but it’s not like it was a big deal, it was just uncomfortable and the aftereffects are what made you more upset than anything else.

You:

[I’ll tell you if you call me lmao]

You groaned immediately after sending that message. However, you reasoned to yourself that he wouldn’t call you- he barely wanted to have a video chat with you.

In the make-shift living room, where Shigaraki sat with the other members, he stared at his phone glancing around at everyone and humming when they were engrossed in their activities. Dabi Mr. Compress, Twice and Spinner were playing a game of cards, a stench of smoke filling the air, while Toga was painting her nails, blowing on them gently and snickering when she looks at Dabi’s cards, a harsh shush and sparks flying from his mouth.

Looking back down at his phone, Shigaraki stood up and made his way towards his living room, waving his hand when Toga yelled goodnight. He locks the door behind him and sat on the chair in his bedroom. He stares at your message, unblinking and deciding “screw it”, as he pushes the call button. The call rang for a moment too long and for a second he thought it was going to go to voicemail. And then he heard your voice.

“Hello?” You sound puzzled.

“What happened?” He decides to get to the point.

“Oh!” You could feel embarrassment flood your face. You laugh nervously and it cuts off too soon. “It isn’t- It’s not anything big. It-it’s dumb. It’s not like anything happened, it’s just me being stupid like always, ha,” you giggled nervously, your voice trailing off towards the end. “It really isn’t anything big. It was just a weird thing.” He can hear your nervousness through the phone, you sound out of breath and he hears fabric rustling in the background.

“Tell me.” He’s losing his patience. Why bother to tease him something and then not even commit to telling him?

You sighed into the phone, and you rationalized to yourself that he wouldn’t care. That maybe afterwards you two could talk about something else and that you’d forget the whole thing that wasn’t really a thing. But even that thought weighs you down.

You let out a shaky breath; your voice is low and hesitant. “So, I was running low on snacks, right? And I went to the closest convenience store which is like fifteen minutes by foot. And like, I buy my things and like when I’m walking home a guy keeps trying to talk to me and I’m just uncomfortable and I walk away and then he grabs my elbow and he like basically wanted my number and—” a lump grows in your throat— “Why do you keep talking to me? You don’t have to. I don’t want it to be like I’m forcing you to talk to me. I’m sure you’re busy with other things and I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable with me.” You bite down on your lip, gnawing on it till you feel the raw flesh sting. “I’m being dumb again.” You bite down on the raw spot on your lip, feeling a faint metallic taste linger on your lips. “Sorry for wasting your time.”

He’s at a loss for words. He’s tongue flicks out and licks his chapped lips. He’s silent for a while, eyes darting around the room hoping to find an answer hidden in there. “That’s dumb.” His reply is harsh.

“What part?” You whisper, tracing the edge of the phone with your finger.

“I’m still talking to you, aren’t I? If I didn’t want to talk to you I wouldn’t have fucking called or even messaged you,” he snaps. He grits his teeth and a free hand scratches his neck, dull red lines appearing and growing brighter until it stings. “It’s fucking dumb of you to ask.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and the sick feeling in your stomach has begun to lessen. “I just didn’t want it to be like I was twisting your arm is all,” you chuckle dryly.

“Well you’re not,” he huffed.

“Thanks. For like the confirmation,” you speak softly, curling in on yourself on the torture. “It uh, it means a lot.”

He scoffs into the receiver. The hands on his neck have stopped scratching; his fingertips rub at the sore spots. His chest tightens and he tells you to shut up.

“No, no. I mean it. I know it’s dumb but it just- I appreciate knowing that you aren’t like being forced to talk to me. I know I probably came off too strong and maybe you felt like you had to say yes so I like knowing that you aren’t forced to talk to me,” you ramble, ears tinged red.

His hands twitch and nails scratch at the wounds. He hisses in pain and teeth grit, his opens into a palm and he applies pressure to his neck.

“Are you okay?” You voice is frantic and you rise from your position. “Toma, you good?”

He hesitates for a second. “Yeah, I’m fine.” His eyes scan the room. “I hit my knee on my desk.”

“Ouch. I have this coffee table that I keep bumping into so it has a bunch of dents and chipped off paint but it really ties in the room together so the pain is worth it.” The lump in your throat has disappeared and you reach over to grab the bag of sweets, popping one in your mouth as you speak. “I think I might get those like baby proof things.” You crinkle the bag in your hand and take a deep breath. “Can you tell me about your day?” Your voice is soft and he can hear plastic in the background.

“Why?”

“I told you about my day,” you shrug. “Plus, I just want to hear your voice for a little while.” You snuggled deeper into the couch, curling in on yourself, and lay the phone on the couch. “Indulge me. I told you about my day, you tell me yours.”

He wanted to tell you to fuck off, that the only reason he got curious about your day was because you had been cryptic with yours. He bit at his bottom lip, his eyes casted to the right for a right a brief second. He’s quiet for a long time- he can hear you shift around on the other side of the phone and he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“It wasn’t anything special.” He starts off slow, choosing his words correctly. “Woke up. Did stuff. And now I’m talking to you.”

You roll your eyes. “Vague as usual.” You click your tongue. “You didn’t play the game today?”

“Hadn’t thought about it.” He’s honest with you for once.

You let out a sharp laugh, stretching in the couch before turning over on your stomach, resting your chin on your hands and your phone now moved in front of you, leaning against the armrest. “Yeah? I’m surprised. With a level and stats as high as yours, I pegged you as the type to play that game every chance you had.” You twirl your finger on the air, a teasing smile on your lips.

“I had other things to do.” He says- his tone a tad defensive.

“Oh?” Your voice rises in pitch. “Oh, right, right. You did “stuff” today. How could I ever forget your descriptive storytelling. Silly me.” Your voice has a kittenish quality. “So, despite having to do- what I’m sure is gruesome stuff- how has your day been so far?”

He doesn’t secretly dream of having a normal life- a life where he isn’t a villain, where his quirk isn’t something that can cause mass destruction- he doesn’t want any of that. He has a goal that he needs to reach. He has his life set out in front of him. But talking to you, as much as he hates it, doesn’t fill with him with dread or anxiety. It isn’t an overbearing weight that it once was, it feels lighter. He doesn’t want to know about your personal life, he doesn’t want to hear to hear you laugh. He doesn’t want to hear you say that you want hear his voice.

“Toma? You there?” You whisper, your voice gentle.

“I’m here,” he rasps out. He doesn’t want to be here.

“Wanna hear what I’m planning to do tomorrow?” You ask timidly.

You don’t wait for a reply. Instead, you start to talk about your plans for tomorrow. You talk about how you’ll try to wake up early, maybe do some yoga if it’s early enough. Or how you’ll make a simple breakfast; how you’ve been dying to try to make fluffy pancakes but you never have the motivation to actually make breakfast so you usually eat some fruit or pastry that you have lying around. You mention how you’ll call your other friends and ask to hang out or maybe just have a group call and talk about nothing and everything all at once. You laugh a bit when you talk about your friends. You mention how the call usually lasts for hours- the most being six- and how you’re always tired the next day, how you have a headache that’s caused by lack of sleep but you never regret the calls. You giggle at the end of that tangent and mention that it’s a dumb inside joke where you’ll start to complain four hours in that you’re tired but the call will keep going and towards the end of the call you’ll start getting sarcastic when they mention that they’re tired. You try to stifle your giggles and change topics to move on to what you might eat tonight- that you aren’t in the mood for anything too heavy, but you don’t want any fast food. You ask for his opinion on what he should eat and he mentions ordering ramen. You nod and tell him that’s a good idea. You talk about everything to him; you’re so open with this stranger that you don’t even know the name of. And he tells you this. There’s no bite to his voice, no insult ready to strike at you; just an observation.

You hesitate to answer. You tap on your phone, the screen lighting up. You’ve been on the call for a little over an hour and half. The corner of your mouth twitches.

“I don’t know.” It’s the truth. “I think… I think I was just really lonely that night.” The words are heavy on your tongue. “I mean, we had talked beforehand. When we did missions and stuff. We did team ups often enough and I guess I grew to like being around you. Or, er, talking to you.” You rub your lip between your teeth. “I mean, I’m okay not knowing your name. It isn’t like I’ve told you much about myself. You only know my first name and face but you don’t know where I live or my full name so,” you trail off, unsure how to end. “You aren’t really a stranger. I may not know your actual name but I’m gonna take a guess and say that the name you gave me has to be similar to your actual name.” You aren’t exactly wrong. “And I don’t know. Some people are,” you try to choose your next words carefully, “insecure of how they look. So I don’t really hold it against you if you don’t want me to see your actual face, ya know? Or even if it’s a privacy thing. I get it.” There’s silence on his end. “Did that make sense?”

He mumbles his agreement. Not all of it made for sound logic but it was logical to you, you gave your reasons and while they weren’t exactly the strongest, you stuck by them. He bends his head down and he clicks his tongue.

Twice knocks on his door and enters after a second has passed. Shigaraki twists his body and stares as Twice jerks his thumb over his shoulder and says that everyone is itching for something to do and every word after that is inaudible. He’s sitting at an angle, the phone that is pressed up against his ear, is hidden by his hair. You’re back to talking, unaware that Shigaraki has been interrupted, and he’s tuning out every word Twice is saying, only giving him a shake of the hand to indicate that he’ll be there, wherever there is, later. The door slams behind him and you ask what that was. He replies that he dropped something. You nod your head, only to give a verbal acknowledgement when you remember that he can’t see you.

“So, we’ve been talking for a while,” you breathe out. “Do you want to stop? I don’t mind talking to you for longer but I just wanted to make sure you weren’t bored of me yet.” You chuckle at the end, it’s a bit unsure but not totally humorless.

Shigaraki squints his eyes and pulls the phone away from him. Ten minutes until two hours. You two have been talking to close to two hours. Or rather, you talked for two hours while he listened.

“I uh, didn’t mean to talk for so long, heh.” You chuckle again and this time it’s humorless. “Next time you can talk and I’ll just listen.” You take off the speaker and press the phone close to your ear. You pull your knees up to your chest and rest your head on them.

Two months of group missions. Two weeks of missions done together alone. One late night call. Half a day of messaging. One two hour call.

“Toma, you there?” Your voice is back to being soft again. It reminds him of something he once craved for and thinking about it makes his head hurt. It unsettles him and he can’t think straight.

“Tomura.” His voice is too low. You almost didn’t catch it. You’re surprised you did.

“Tomura?” You question what this means. Is it a code or is it- oh.

You say his name again. Just above a whisper. The name is heavy on your tongue. And then you hear a click and the line is empty. You blink one. Twice. Your eyes are wide like owls and you mouth his name. And then you let out a shaky breath, the corner of your lips twitching upwards before allowing a full grin to take over.

“Tomura.” You click your tongue and rise up from the couch. Your fingers type at the screen and his name stares up at you. “It’s a nice name.”

Tagged:

@noonewouldlisten25

@yul-is-sparkling

@loveableasshole

@rogueofbullshit

#shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura #bnha shigaraki tomura #bnha #shigaraki headcanons #shigaraki x reader #can i ask you something #ciays #6.5k #damn #sorry it took a while #this chapter was a mess and i didnt like it when i first wrote it #so i had to rewrite it #the middle is eh #im proud of the ending tho #see yall next week #sorry if you wanted to be tagged and i mssed you #or if you didnt want to be and i accidently tagged you #my bad

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hummingbird-of-light · 2 years

Text

Against All Odds

Part 37

McCoy

McCoy stood inside the door to the student lounge and looked around. He was looking for Christine. He had promised her he’d be here. As his eyes scanned the room he finally saw her and he made his way to her.

“You’re late,” she said with a smile when she saw him nearing.

“I had to see if my sister wrote back to me,” McCoy explained, holding the PADD up. “She didn’t by the way.” He rolled his eyes.

Christine laughed.

“So, what would you like to do?” she asked. “Point out this love of yours?” She smirked.

Warmth crawled up the back of his neck, but he managed to laugh as well.

“I told you, I’m not in love with anyone.”

“Sure sure,” Christine said and patted his arm. “And I completely believe you.” She was standing next to him now. “Let’s meet some people,” she said and gave his sleeve a tug to follow her.

Christine stopped next to a small table of people.

“You met Jaylah earlier,” Christine started. “This is Nyota Uhura.” She gestured to a very pretty girl who McCoy recognized as the singer from the welcoming ceremony.

“Uhura…,” he said slowly.

“Yes, my mom is the opera singer,” the girl smiled.

“Your voice is just as beautiful,” McCoy said truthfully. “I’ve wanted to meet you and say that the last few days.”

“Thank you your highness.”

“No. Please, all of you, call me Leonard.”

“This is Hikaru Sulu and Pavel Chekov,” Christine continued.

Both boys nodded.

“We’ve met briefly at meals,” McCoy told Christine.

“We were getting ready to play cards,” Sulu said. “Want to join?”

“Sure,” McCoy said.

He looked at Christine who nodded. He pulled out a chair for her before sitting between her and Uhura. Before Sulu could deal cards out, a familiar face stopped next to Chekov. McCoy felt his heart skip a beat before he realized it was Scotty’s brother Robbie, not Scotty.

“Pav,” Robbie said, “were you ready?”

“Da, let’s go,” Chekov said and got up.

McCoy sat and played cards with the group. He looked around the lounge as they did. Spock was playing chess at another table with Jim. He wondered who was winning. He knew how skilled Spock was at the game. In another corner Khan was sitting with friends. When he noticed McCoy looking he smiled. Even from a distance McCoy would tell there was no warmth to it.

His PADD blinked with a new message from Leah finally, but he decided to read it later.

Finally, closing in on 2100, he excused himself, with promises to join them again the next evening. Spock looked up as he went by, but McCoy waved a hand for him to stay.

As he closed in on the library McCoy felt his heart begin to beat faster. He frowned. It must be because of the sneaking he and Scotty were doing; the thrill of maybe getting caught.

He was first to arrive, so he passed the time looking at books on the shelf.

“Hey.”

He heard the whisper behind himself and turned around. He smiled at Scotty.

“Hey.”

McCoy watched as Scotty almost took another step towards him but stopped. He wished the other boy had.

“Ye alright?” Scotty asked before McCoy could sort out his thoughts.

He nodded.

“What did Archer want?” Scotty asked, finally taking a step closer.

“To know how I was doing getting around school. And to make sure everyone was behaving around me.” McCoy smiled at Scotty again. He knew that part of Archer’s questions had to have been about Scotty. “There’s really a stigma around the scholarship students,” he asked in a questioning voice.

“Aye,” Scotty confirmed.

“That’s so dumb. And frustrating,” McCoy said. “How do you put up with it?”

McCoy was watching Scotty, willing him to move closer again. He didn’t understand why he wanted Scotty close, but he did. They had been close at dinner, bumping knees and elbows occasionally and it had made McCoy happy in a way he hadn’t felt before.

Part 38

Scotty

“How do you put up with it?”

Scotty had to think about that question for a moment. How exactly did he do it?

Eventually he just shrugged.

“I guess… I just got used to it. And I have my friends. They help me and the other scholarship students.”

Nyota was always there for him. So were Hikaru and Pavel. He could rely on them.

“How comes Archer doesn’t treat Jim like you?”

At that question, Scotty just sighed.

“Pike basically raised Jim. He helped his family quite a lot.”

Jim’s father had died the day he was born. It had been a huge story.

“What about his dad?”

Scotty shook his head.

“That’s not my story to tell, Leonard.”

Leonard nodded. He seemed to be fine with it.

They fell silent for a moment before Scotty said that he had read half of the book he had borrowed.

They talked about the content, meandering through the quiet halls of the library. Scotty felt eager to talk to Leonard, even though it was a secret.

“You know what I love?” Leonard asked after a while and Scotty felt his heart beating.

He stared at the other boy. Why was his mind wishing that the answer was his name? It surely wouldn’t be! Leonard didn’t feel the same rush of blood or the fluttering in his stomach.

“Hmm?”

“I love that this place keeps actual books. You know… we mostly use digitalized versions, but here we… can actually touch the books. I love to leaf through the pages, feeling them beneath my fingertips. I love to hear the sound when you turn the pages. And I-“

Leonard didn’t get to finish his little speech.

Scotty was just so amazed by him. His smile, the joy when he talked about something he loved, his gorgeous face in the dim light.

He couldn’t tell how his lips had ended up on Leonard’s. All he knew was that it felt exactly like he had hoped for.

His inner longing, that strange new feeling he’d never felt before, was satisfied by their lips touching. By the taste. The smell.

Only moments later Scotty realized what he was doing.

He… was kissing the prince!

Quickly he pulled back and stared at Leonard with wide eyes. The boy looked utterly confused.

“I-I’m so sorry. I-“

What had gotten into him?! How dare he kiss the prince of Georgiares II!

Scotty backed away a few steps but was stopped by a bookshelf behind him.

His face was red. He was… embarrassed. And shocked about himself.

“I’m sorry.”

#star trek #montgomery scott #leonard mccoy #scones #au #against all odds #its happening #omg its happening

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fcbayern · 4 years

Note

Hallo! Hope you are well! I love your blog and it’s made me really want to understand and get into Bundesliga. How can I know everything I need to know about Bayern so I’m up to date and understand what’s happening within the team? I hope this makes sense? Danke!

hi anon! i’m so sorry it took me so long to reply to this. this week’s been so busy already.

i guess the internet is a good place to start for your research :) of course wikipedia itself is not a bad source, but if you really want to get information, look at the bottom of the wikipedia page for all the teams in the bundesliga, and get the info from the sources there. that’s what wikipedia uses to write their articles, so that should give you even more insight into the bundesliga and its teams, and rules, etc than you already get from the wikipedia article itself.

i’ll try and sum up the most basic info for you - that i know - and if you have any other questions, feel free to send me another message and maybe we can get into more detail:

bundesliga is the highest “class” / tier that you can play in, in germany. it is divided into 2 different tiers: 1. bundesliga and 2. bundesliga.

1. bundesliga consists of 18 teams.

for the upcoming seasons - currently in alphabetical order because the new season doesn’t start until the 18th of September - these are the teams:

DSC Arminia Bielefeld

FC Augsburg

Bayer Leverkusen

FC Bayern München

Borussia Dortmund

Borussia Mönchengladbach

Eintracht Frankfurt

1. SC Freiburg

Hertha BSC Berlin

TSG Hoffenheim

1. FC Köln

1. FSV Main 05

Red Bull Leipzig

FC Schalke 04

VfB Stuttgart

Union Berlin

Werder Bremen

VfL Wolfsburg

Arminia Bielefeld were promoted from 2nd league, where they ended up in first place in the season of 2019/2020. The second team that was promoted is VfB Stuttgart. In exchange for these two teams being promoted, two teams have to be relegated. In the season of 2019/2020 those two teams were SC Paderborn 07 and Fortuna Düsseldorf.

Back to the Bundesliga Basics:

The Bundesliga stands under the umbrella of “DFB”, or Deutscher Fußball Bund (German Football Association), which was founded in 1900. In 1904 the FIFA (Fédération Internationale de Football Association) was founded, which is basically the big boss of football. They keep an eye on a number of football associations across the world and also set up the Men’s and Women’s World Cup. DFB joined the FIFA right away in 1904, and in 1954 DFB also joined the UEFA, which is an acronym for Union des Associations Européennes de Football and therefor takes care of all things football in Europe. Self-explanatory.

UEFA wasn’t founded until 1954 because... things happened in Europe in the 30s and 40s.

During the time of the Nazi regime the DFB was dismantled in 1940 and it didn’t pick up again until 1950, when the Federal German Republic was reformed, and the West German football associations decided to get the DFB back up and running. They re-joined FIFA in 1954, and, as mentioned before, also joined UEFA that same year.

The Bundesliga how we know it, however, was not actually a thing until 28. Juli 1962, starting with the season of 1963/1964. Before that there were a number of clubs and associations throughout Germany who all kind of played side by side, and eventually in the 30s the idea of a “Reichsliga” (league of the German Reich) was brought up, where a certain number of teams would play and one would end up winning the title. Kind of what we do now.

And then the war happened.

And in between the end of that and the 60s, obviously they had brought some ideas back to the table, had tried to figure out a more competitive way and to bring football closer to the people.

In 1962 the idea of the Bundesliga was founded. 16 teams were to play each other in one league, competing against each other. 5 from “Oberliga Süd”, 5 from “Oberliga West”, 3 from “Oberliga Nord”, 2 from “Oberliga Südwest” and one from the Berlin City League - the Western part of Berlin, of course.

They had a super complicated system in place to figure out which teams would eventually be allowed to be the “founding fathers” of the Bundesliga. It had to do with economics, they ended up coming up with a weird system for who gets how many points for winning their own league, adding those up, multiplying, and then somehow they ended up with 16 teams... don’t ask me how, I have dyscalculia, I don’t understand their way of thinking at all. Maybe there was some voodoo involved, God knows, honestly.

Eventually they had their 16 winners from the aforementioned leagues:

Oberliga Süd: Eintracht Frankfurt, Karlsruher SC, 1. FC Nürnberg, TSV 1860 München, VfB Stuttgart Oberliga Nord: Eintracht Braunschweig, Werder Bremen, Hamburger SV Oberliga West: Borussia Dortmund, 1. FC Köln, Meidericher SV, Preußen Münster, FC Schalke 04 Oberliga Südwest: 1. FC Kaiserslautern, 1. FC Saarbrücken Stadtliga Berlin: Hertha BSC Berlin

In 1963 this “Bundesliga” wasn’t a pro-league, though. And there were a ton of rules in place that would probably make you go “huh?” these days... or maybe you’d think they are great rules and they need to make a comeback. A transfer, for example, could only cost up to 50.000 German Mark (roughly 25.564,50€ / $30.149,62).

Until 1967 you also weren’t allowed to sign more than three players from another team for the upcoming season.

At some point it was decided that football players would also have the benefits of a full-time worker, if they decided on football as a career, and not just something they did on the side.

When East and West Germany were reunited in 1989 / the early 90s, that’s when the Bundesliga really became more of a commercial success not just in Germany, but also throughout non-German Europe and the rest of the world. Which is also largely due to Germany winning the World Cup in 1990, and the European title in 1996, but the Bundesliga was also specifically marketed to popular media. In 1991 the German Football Association of the German Democratic Republic (Deutsche Fußball-Verband der DDR) - the East German football association - joined DFB. Thus Germany was one again, not just on paper, but also in football.

Another thing that helped the popularity of the Bundesliga was the fact that in the 90s at least one Bundesliga club reached a European championship semi-final. In 1997 Borussia Dortmund won the Champions League, in 1996 Bayern München won the Europapokal, in 1997 Schalke 04 won the UEFA-Pokal. And in the following championships at least one German team reached the final of said competitions.

Let’s jump to the 2000s!

Since 2000 FC Bayern München has won the Bundesliga 13 times. The other winners were: Borussia Dortmund (2002, 2011, 2012), Werder Bremen (2004), VfB Stuttgart (2007) and VfL Wolfsburg (2009). Bayern München is also the only Bundesliga team in the 2000s to win the Champions League: 2013 and 2020.

After all that knowledge, here’s some random facts and numbers that you might find interesting:

- since it was founded in 1963, a total of 56 teams have played in Germany’s highest league - until the season of 2017/2018 Hamburger SV was part of the 1. Bundesliga for 55 seasons, which was a record. Now Werder Bremen holds this record, with 56 seasons to their name - Bayer Leverkusen holds the nickname of “Vizekusen” (Vice-Kusen), and they were at one point regarded as the “ever-second”, always getting close to the top, but never reaching it - Karl-Heinz Körbel has the most Bundesliga appearances: 602 - for Eintracht Frankfurt. He never lost a final with Frankfurt and was never relegated. - Bernd Stöber was the youngest coach in the season of 1976/1977 a t just 24 years, 1 month and 17 days old. - Brazil is the best-represented nation after Germany, with 159 Bundesliga exports (159), followed by Denmark (129), Austria (119), Croatia (118) and Poland (109). - in the season of 2019/2020 Thomas Müller had the most assists: 21. - retired football player Gerd Müller, whose active career was between 1965-1979, holds the record for the most goals: 365. - Otto Rehhagel holds the record for most matches as a manager: 832.

Now let’s go back to where we started: the season of 2020/2021.

As mentioned above, the 1. Bundesliga has 18 teams. To get you up-to-date I’ll give you some more info on each team, that you might find useful!

DSC Arminia Bielefeld: - founded: May 3rd 1905 - manager: Uwe Neuhaus - stadium: SchücoArena

FC Augsburg: - founded: August 8th 1907 - manager: Heiko Herrlich - stadium: WWK Arena

Bayer 04 Leverkusen: - founded: July 1st 1904 -> rebranded to current name on April 1st 1999 - manager: Peter Bosz - stadium: BayArena

FC Bayern München: - founded: February 27th 1900 - manager: Hansi Flick - stadium: Allianz Arena

Borussia Dortmund: - founded: December 19th 1909 - manager: Lucien Favre - stadium: Signal Iduna Park

Borussia Mönchengladbach: - founded: August 1st 1900 - manager: Marco Rose - stadium: BORUSSIA-PARK

Eintracht Frankfurt: - founded: March 8th 1899 - manager: Adi Hütter - stadium: Deutsche Bank Park

SC Freiburg: - founded: May 30th 1904 - manager: Christian Streich - stadium: Schwarzwald-Stadion

Hertha BSC Berlin: - founded: July 25th 1892 - manager: Bruno Labbadia - stadium: Olympiastadion Berlin

TSG 1899 Hoffenheim: - founded: July 1st 1899 - manager: Sebastian Hoeneß - stadium: Prezero-Arena

1. FC Köln: - founded: February 13th 1948 - manager: Markus Gisdol - RheinEnergieSTADION

1. FSV Mainz 05: - founded: March 16th 1905 - manager: Achim Beierlorzer - stadium: OPEL ARENA

Red Bull Leipzig: - founded: May 19th 2009 - manager: Julian Nagelsmann - Red Bull Arena

FC Schalke 04: - founded: May 4th 1904 - manager: David Wagner - stadium: VELTINS-Arena

VfB Stuttgart: - founded: September 9th 1893 - manager: Pellegrino Matarazzo - Mercedes-Benz Arena

1. FC Union Berlin: - founded: January 20th 1966 (originally 1906) - manager: Urs Fischer - stadium: Stadion An der Alten Försterei

SV Werder Bremen: - founded: February 4th 1899 - manager: Florian Kohfeldt - stadium: Weserstadion

VfL Wolfsburg: - fonded: September 12th 1945 -> rebranded to current name on January 16th 2001 - manager: Oliver Glasner - stadium: Volkswagen Arena

Maybe, to get a feeling for each club, you can check out each club’s YouTube account. Through that you should be able to find their other social media, or just by simply googling the team name:

Arminia Bielefeld ● FC Augsburg ● Bayer 04 Leverkusen ● FC Bayern München ● Borussia Dortmund ● Borussia Mönchengladbach ● Eintracht Frankfurt ● 1. SC Freiburg ● Hertha BSC Berlin ● TSG Hoffenheim ● 1. FC Köln ● 1. FSV Main 05 ● Red Bull Leipzig ● FC Schalke 04 ● VfB Stuttgart ● Union Berlin ● Werder Bremen ● VfL Wolfsburg

Each football team has 11 players on the pitch. For the new season in 2019 it was decided that instead of 18 players, each team would be allowed to have 20 players in total - which means 9 substitute players on the bench.

During each season a team can win three main cups (the ones that everyone cares about the most, let’s be real): DFB-Pokal, Meistertitel (Bundesliga winner) and Champions League trophy. The last of which is not a German tournament / cup to be won, so I’ll leave that out for now.

DFB Pokal:

The DFB-Pokal is a German knockout competition, starting out with 64 teams. 36 teams are from the Bundesliga and 2. Bundesliga, the top four finishers of the third league are automatically added to the list. 21 slots are given to the cup winners of regional football associations, and the remaining 3 slots are given to the regional associations with the most men’s teams.

Direct quote from Wikipedia, which in turn got their information from here: for the first round, the 64 teams are split into two pots of 32. One pot contains the 18 teams from the previous season of the Bundesliga and the top 14 teams from the previous season of the 2. Bundesliga. The other pot contains the bottom 4 teams from the previous season of the 2. Bundesliga, the top 4 teams from the previous season of the 3. Liga and the 24 amateur teams that qualified through regional football tournaments. Teams from one pot are drawn against teams from the other pot. Since 1982, teams from the pot containing amateur teams have played the game at home.For the second round, the teams are again divided into two pots according to the same principles. Depending on the results of the first round, the pots might not be equal in terms of number. Teams from one pot are drawn against teams from the other pot until one pot is empty. The remaining teams are then drawn against each other with the team first drawn playing the game at home.For the remaining rounds, other than the final, the teams are drawn from one pot. Since 1985 the final has been held in the Olympic Stadium in Berlin.

Meistertitel:

The Meistertitel is rewarded to the team that comes out on top on the last match-day of the season. Of course it can be calculated whether other teams can still catch up - points-wise - but the Meisterschale is not rewarded until the season is over. The current record-holder of most Bundesliga wins is FC Bayern München (29), followed by Borussia Dortmund and Borussia Mönchengladbach (5) and Werder Bremen (4) in second and third place.

With the first three Bundesliga wins a team gets a gold star to put on their jersey, with five wins they get a second, ten wins is a third, twenty wins is a forth star. On top of that, the reigning Bundesliga champion gets to wear the Bundesliga logo in gold color on their sleeve.

And that’s that on that.

I don’t know what language you’re fluent in, but here are some football apps that you might enjoy using, to be on track with the upcoming season:

OneFootball

Kicker App

Bundesliga App

11 Freunde App

Amazon Bundesliga Radio

each team’s individual app for updates and news

You can also check out @bundesliga_en on Instagram and Twitter.

One last info for you, so you can jump right into it on the first day of the new Bundesliga season (fixtures are never really 100% until a day or two before the match is supposed to be, so this is preliminary): here is the link for the schedule of the upcoming 1. Bundesliga season.

You can also check out the 2. Bundesliga schedule, because it’s super interesting down there in the second league as well! I highly recommend it (keep your fingers crossed for Paderborn for me!).

I think that’s about everything I can tell you. This reply is already faaaaaaaaar too long, and I apologize! If you have any questions or want me to elaborate, feel free to send me another message.

Have the best time getting used to the Bundesliga, and welcome to the family!

Sources - with more info - under the cut:

fun facts: https://www.bundesliga.com/en/bundesliga/news/easter-eggs-surprising-facts-and-figures-you-may-not-know-3798

team information / schedule: https://www.dfb.de/bundesliga/spieltagtabelle/

team information / schedule (2nd source): https://www.kicker.de/dfb-pokal/spieltag

general information: https://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fu%C3%9Fball-Bundesliga

app suggestions: https://www.smartmobil.de/magazin/fussball-apps

explanation for how the DFB-Pokal: https://web.archive.org/web/20090609211623/https://www.dfb.de/index.php?id=460546

#Bundesliga #football #elle.reply #beantwortet #september 2020 #this took me like 8 hours to write up because I started while I was still working lmfao #anyway #feel free to block me for making a post this long omg #Anonymous #long post

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sigillaria-svt · 3 years

Text

Elevator Meetings (Part One) - Reader POV

Pairing: Musical Actor!Lee Seokmin/DK x Academic!Reader

Word Count: 3,167

Warning: Small mentions of alcohol

Genres: fluff, slice of life, neighbors, a few Minghao and Mingyu scenes

Part Two (Seokmin): [Part Two]

Part Three (Final)(Reader): [Part Three]

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Synopsis: You’ve just moved into a new high-rise apartment with two of your other friends. You are scheduled to move in first within the week, while the rest of your two friends will catch up the following week. It was a tough decision to make to live away from your family, but your work demanded you to live in a closer place. One day, as you were trying to move all your things, you meet a particularly kind man named Lee Seokmin who decides to help you out.

READER POV

You huff as you take out one last box from the trunk of your brother’s car.

“Are you sure you’re going to be able to do that all by yourself?” He asks you.

You give him a firm nod, but deep inside, you were already wondering if you could actually do it yourself. You had to take up ten boxes of your belongings up to the 7th floor of the building. The building is relatively new and has a fully-functioning elevator, but you weren’t so sure how you could bring the boxes from the lobby to the elevator in one go.

“Yeah, I’m sure I can find a way.” You say to your brother. “I mean, you’ve got a clinic to go to. I don’t want you to be late, either.”

Your brother looks at you in thought before nodding and driving away. Once you see his car disappear around the corner, you let out a deep sigh. There goes your help. You probably won't be able to finish moving all your things into the apartment before you have to go to work. You are left with no other choice but to do it the hard way.

You try to look around if there’s anyone else who could be of help, but there’s no one. After all, most buildings nowadays rarely require people to physically do work. Any information you need is on a screen, and you just happened to come at a time when most of the people are out of their homes.

"Strategy over strength, you can do this." You say to yourself.

You take two boxes at a time, opting to carry the boxes in pairs to the elevator. It takes about fifteen minutes, but you’re finally able to carry all of the boxes to the front of the elevator arranged in two stacks.

You press the button of the elevator going up, taking these few seconds to catch your breath. In a few seconds, the elevator doors open, and you see a man wearing a black cap and a black face mask. You give him a small greeting, and he gives you a small nod in return.

You knew that you needed help, but at this point, you were honestly too shy to ask a stranger to help you. You quickly begin moving the boxes one at a time into the elevator, making sure that they’re all in a corner. The man steps outside the elevator and looks at the stack of boxes waiting outside.

“Excuse me, do you need any help?” He says, voice slightly muffled by his mask.

You look over to him, sweat forming on your forehead from the physical work and the embarrassment. “Hm? Well, yes, but if you’re busy it’s alright.”

“No, it’s fine, I can spare a few minutes.”

Just like that, he helps you load the boxes into the elevator, easily moving them to form two stacks over at the corner.

“Which floor?” He asks.

“The 7th.” You reply, giving him a small bow of both thanks and apology.

He takes out a card and taps it on the sensor just below the elevator buttons. After a small beep, he presses the button for the 7th floor and the elevator doors close momentarily.

“I’m sorry--I mean, thanks. For helping me out.” You say quietly. “I just moved here, my name is y/n.”

“No problem. My name is Lee Seokmin, I live over on the 10th floor.” He pulls down his black mask, revealing the mole at the center of his cheek. “Must be tough, having to move all of those things by yourself.”

“Well, kind of my fault for trying to do it on my own. I have other roommates that could have helped me, but they won’t be arriving until next week.”

Just then, the elevator doors open and he helps move the boxes from the elevator to the hallway. “Which room?” Seokmin asks after all of the boxes have been successfully taken out.

“7-25, just at the end of the hallway.”

With a small nod, he helps you move all of your boxes. He takes three boxes at a time while you take two. In just five minutes, you were finally able to reach your apartment with your things in one piece.

“Thank you so, so much.” You say to him.

He simply smiles and waves as he walks away. “See you around.”

You take out your own keycard and unlock your apartment door. Swinging the door open, you see a moderately-sized living space. There’s a couch over at the right side and a kitchen set on the left side. Over at one end, there are two doors, one for the smaller room that you’ll be staying in, and another for the larger room that your two other roommates would be sharing.

Energized by the fresh start, you take your boxes in and begin to unload.

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You plop down on your bed after hours of unpacking and arranging. It took a while, but you’re completely satisfied with the look of your room. You have all your books neatly arranged on a shelf over at one corner, with a desk right next to it. You take out your phone and begin telling your friends about your day, and about the guy you met at the elevator, who happened to be your savior of the day.

All of the sudden, one of your friends send you a call.

“Hello--”

“You met Lee Seokmin?!”

“Was that his name? I think it was. Why?”

“Do you--do you really not know who you just met?! Lee Seokmin, played the lead role in many local musicals, hello?”

“Oh, he’s a musical actor? That’s nice.” You say, trying to find what else to say. You’ve really just been focusing on the papers you have to pass and the studies you have to do for the past few years. “Is he famous?”

Over at the other line, you can hear your friend sigh. “It’s fine, you don’t have to know. Once we move there next week, I’ll be meeting him more often, anyway.”

After a long chat about her day, she finally hangs up.

You think about looking him up, but your exhaustion overtakes you and you decide to sleep instead. Although it’s interesting to have someone famous as a neighbor, you can’t really be bothered enough to spend too much time on it.

You fall asleep, your lamp remaining on for the duration of the night.

You wake up the next morning with the sunlight hitting your eyes. You check the time, it’s 6:45 AM. You quickly get up and get yourself ready for work. You quickly shower and put on a long skirt and a sweater, perfect for the cold weather. Stuffing your bag with your laptop and a thick book on botany, you head out of your apartment. Breakfast will have to wait until you’re at the university.

You make your way to the elevator and quickly press the button. In a few moments, the doors open, and you are met with a familiar face. Seokmin stands in the middle of the elevator, wearing a tucked-in white shirt and blue jeans.

“Oh, hello.” You say as you get into the elevator.

“Good morning, y/n. Heading off to work?” Seokmin asks with a smile.

“Yeah, my first class starts at 8 o’clock.”

He raises his eyebrows in interest. “Are you a teacher?”

“Kind of. I work part-time as an instructor, and the rest as a research assistant. Not really the most exciting line of work, but I do enjoy it.” You say with a shrug. You’ve always enjoyed working with plants, but it’s been tiring the past few weeks with all the deadlines you have to catch up to.

“Well, that seems pretty interesting, don’t you think? The natural sciences seem pretty hard to me.” He says with a smile. “Which university?”

The elevator doors open and you go out together.

“The one downtown, SC University.” You say, slightly flustered at the thought of someone getting excited over your field of work. “Well, it is interesting. It’s just that, I don’t really hear it that often.”

In an attempt to draw the conversation away from yourself, you act as if you didn’t know about him. “How about you, what kind of work do you do?”

“I’m a musical actor. I’m on my way to rehearsals, actually. We’ll be having a show tonight.” He says, looking down at his watch. “If you’re available at 8 PM, would you like to go?”

He looks up at you with an innocent expression, making you just a little bit flustered. This is the time when you would usually come up with an excuse to stay home and have some time alone, but somehow, a different answer slips out of your tongue.

“Sure, where is it going to be?”

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You stand outside of the cultural center with a ticket that Seokmin gave you in your pocket. You take it out and look at it once again. The show is meant to start at 8 PM, but you’re already here an hour early. The doors don’t open for 30 minutes, so you decide to head over to the nearby cafe. With a latte in hand, you sit down at one of the tables.

To be honest, you weren’t as free as you initially thought. After your morning schedules, you found yourself with papers to check and a report to finish. Yet, because you told Seokmin that you’d be there, you skipped lunch and managed to finish all your work in the afternoon. Just by this, you knew that you were going into your hopeless crushing stage again.

For goodness sake, you’ve only met him yesterday, get a hold of yourself.

You decide to message your friends to try and at least bring one of them over so that you wouldn’t have to go in there alone. Despite your best efforts, all of them either have other plans or are too tired to go out at this hour. You decide to scroll past different articles to pass the time.

You take a sip of your drink and observe the crowd in front of you. Just across the cafe, you see the crowd starting to form right in front of the cultural center. Most of them were university students, some of which you even saw around the campus.

After a few minutes, the doors open and the people start streaming into the building. You quickly finish your drink and head over to the back of the line. You pass over your ticket to one of the staff, who cuts it in half, giving you the piece with your seat number on it. Inside, you see just how many people are looking forward to the show. Almost half of the seats are occupied, mostly near the front. You try to navigate through the rows, searching for a seat until you finally reach a seat in the 2nd row.

You find yourself sitting beside two other guys, one of which was tall and tan-skinned, while the other was smaller with more subtle features. While waiting for the play to start, you catch a bit of their conversation.

“The others can’t come, but they said they’ll eat dinner with us after.” The taller one said, looking down at his phone. “It would have been nice if everyone came, it’s Seokmin’s first lead role in a while.”

“That’s just an excuse for them to go out and drink.” The other one said.

With a small pout, the taller of the two puts his phone back in his pocket. “I don’t know, everyone’s just been getting a bit busy with the schedules. Must be a sign of old age, everyone just wants to stay home and sleep. Unless it comes to drinking.”

Their conversation is cut off as the lights begin to dim. Music begins to play in the background, signaling the start of the play. You’ve been to a few small school plays before, but this was your first time seeing a live professional play in person. You cross your legs, heart beating fast as you look forward to the performance.

The story starts in a small village, the opening song ringing through the entire hall. As the story progresses, you find yourself looking forward to the moment when you’ll see Seokmin on the stage. After the opening song, the stage dims, and a lone figure steps out from the darkness. There he is, wearing clothes befitting a king, a glimmering crown over his head. He looks completely different from the neighbor that you constantly meet in the elevator--he looks royal, strict, and menacing. He moves around with hectic steps as if he’s desperately looking for something. He shouts out commands, sending shivers down your spine.

Although you know that it’s all an act, you can’t help but feel as if his emotions are really true. No wonder your friend is a fan of him--he’s an immensely great actor.

For the rest of the performance, you’re at the edge of your seat. Every time he’s on the stage, you can’t take your eyes off him. When he’s not in the scene, you eagerly wait for him to get back on. It’s not just his acting that’s great, but also his singing. You’ve never heard such a full and clear voice before.

The next hour passes by in a flash. The entire play ends with a curtain call of all the actors, with Seokmin as the last one to come to the front. When he takes a bow, loud applause erupts from the crowd.

“Ah, he really did well this time.” Says the taller man from earlier.

“He really did, didn’t he?” You reply unconsciously. It was too late for you to take back what you said. From your peripheral view, you see the both of them look at you, but you keep your eyes forward as your face heats up.

Eventually, the curtains close, and the theatre lights turn back on. You quickly make your way out of the room, too embarrassed to stay any longer with the two other guys.

Still, you can’t get the light feeling off your chest. He was so good--no, he was great. He’s the kind of actor that can get you completely engrossed in his performance. You peek through the doors of the theatre, wanting to catch a small glimpse of him. The crowd has begun to thin out, with only a few people left inside. Even outside, there are only a few people left, most of which are staff members cleaning up the area.

“Y/n? You made it!” You hear a voice from behind.

You look back and see Seokmin outside the theatre, still wearing his costume from earlier. This time, he’s back to his bright and innocent look, completely different from his persona from earlier.

“Hey, Seokmin.” You pull away from the door. “You were really, really great!”

He gives a wide smile, eyes nearly closing. “Really? Thanks! It was my first lead role after two years. I thought didn’t do as well as I thought.”

You furrow your brows. “You need to give yourself more credit for what you do.”

He looks a bit taken aback, and you quickly put your fingers over your mouth. You had gotten a bit too excited, so you immediately blurted out whatever came to mind.

“I’m sorry, I mean that I thought that what you did was already excellent.”

He quickly shakes his hands. “No, it’s okay. It’s just... thanks.” He says, sounding completely genuine. “If you enjoyed it, would you like to watch our other performances? We’ll be having more in the next months, maybe you’d want to you know...”

“Absolutely!” You say immediately. “I mean, I would love to.”

He smiles and takes out his phone. He creates a new contact and hands his phone over to you. “If you don’t mind, you can also give me your contact details, and I’ll send you a message if we have something new coming up. If you need any help doing some moving again, you can ask me any time, too.”

You take his phone and fill in the boxes. You feel your face heat up, so you make sure to keep your head low as you type. You can’t believe it--you’re already crushing on someone this bad after a day of meeting them.

You hand his phone back to him with a small smile.

“I better get going, I have a few more papers to check when I get home.” You lie, wanting to get out of the situation before you become any more obvious. “See you next time, then?”

He gives you a small wave. “See you.”

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When you get home, you immediately head over to your bed, still not over the stage play. Even though it was an impulsive decision, it wasn’t something that you regret. You got to see him act up close, and somehow, you found yourself even more attracted to him.

You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket and you take it out. It’s a message from an unknown number.

“Hello, y/n, it’s Seokmin ^^ Are you home?”

You roll over on your stomach and start to type, “Yeah, I just got home. Rest well and take care”

“Wait, is that too much?” You say to yourself. You ponder over it and erase the second sentence before hitting send. “But wait, don’t I don’t too cold?”

Without time to think about your decisions, another text arrives.

“That’s good to hear. Well then, rest well and good night! :)”

Just like that, the conversation ends. You bury your face in your pillow, wishing you had sent a friendlier message. You sit up and look outside your window, the full moon shining through over the clear sky. With a surge of courage, you send over a photo of your view and send it over to him with a message.

“Good night, rest well too 🌻🌻🌻”

The moment you hit send, you feel a surge of embarrassment. You know that it was meant to be something friendly, but now you’ve become all self-conscious and you don’t know what to do with it. You hurry over to one of your friends to send them a call before seeing Seokmin’s message popping up from the top of your screen.

“Haha cute”

You sit there, frozen. You didn’t want to overthink it--you know that these kinds of guys exist, the friendly and unintentionally flirty ones. You two are friends that just met yesterday; now really isn’t the time to be falling head over heels.

You take a deep breath and put your phone on the table beside your desk. You try to sleep, but you can’t help but think of him--Lee Seokmin, the musical actor with a smile that outshines the sun.

Maybe moving in a week early wasn’t so bad after all.

Part Two (Seokmin): [Part Two]

#svt fanfic #DK #seventeen fics #SVT x reader #Seventeen x reader #DK x reader #Lee Dokyeom x reader #Lee Seokmin x Reader #Seventeen scenarios #Seventeen fanfiction #kim mingyu #xu minghao #seo myungho #Lee seokmin #lee dokyeom

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queerchoicesblog · 3 years

Text

The Movie Party (SC Titanic, Zetta x Adele Series, Ch. 17)

So, folks, the SC Titanic Zetta x Adele Series has come to an end: this is the final chapter. It’s time for Zetta and Adele to have a reunion at last.

I want to thank all those who supported this crazy project of mine. This series has been quite important and will somehow still be, even if the original story is no longer available and it’s the end. But I will be grateful to the authors who crafted it: it was one of the few times I felt truly seen as represented as a wlw in a game.

You must forgive me if this chapter will be a bit longer but I wanted to bid a farewell to the various characters who made this story one hard to forget. It’s the finale: you either go big or go home, right? And you will find the explanation of the title of the series, if you haven’t figured it out already...

Little disclaimer-favor: especially since the tags don’t seem to be working anymore, if you do enjoy it, please consider supporting the author & sharing this. A little gesture that means a lot!

Stay tuned next week for the Epilogue!

Zetta x Adele Tag: @storyscaped @storyscapefanficarchive @marmolady @animus-and-anima @hayley-carter19 @escako @everlastingchoices @indescribablechoices @ahrielstuff @bornonawdnsday @nazario-sayeed @h-doodles @adele-serda @marlcasters @brightpinkpeppercorn @michelleconnoly @charliejane-blog @ghost-of-yuri @choicesgremlin @lanzhansguqin @orange-elephants @wonder-falcon

Zetta x Adele Series Tag: @eternal-langdon @nydeiri

➡️ Ch. 1, Ch. 2/1, Ch. 2/2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch. 8/1, Ch. 8/2, Ch. 9, Ch. 10/1, Ch. 10/2, Ch. 11/1, Ch. 11/2, Ch. 12, Ch. 13, Ch. 14, Ch. 15 , Ch. 16

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The night of the Surviving the Titanic premiere, I walk into the venue at the arm of Richard, my little Napoleon in tow, 'fashionably late' as my fiancé puts it. We are greeted by the flash powder and shouts of the reporters and the awe of the guests gathered in the dashing foyer, waiting in line to show a steward their invitation. I wave at them, smiling and searching the crowd, while Richard tips his hat. Sadly, I do not see any familiar face or I don't recognise any before we walk past them and disappear behind the red velvet curtains of the auditorium. Another steward takes care of our coats while a colleague leads us to the honorary seats reserved for us and the rest of the crew.

We seat and wait. To keep my mind busy, I fix Richard's bow tie leaning to the side. I chat a bit with Sabine and compliment her outfit once again: I'm touched she decided to wear the pearl headband I gifted her when I made it into the movie industry. A birthday gift: she kept repeating she couldn't accept a gift like that but eventually I prevailed. Seeing it again after all those years...I'm so grateful she didn't listen to me and refused to bring it with her on our trip to Europe: "I'd rather not, Madam: I don't think I will have occasion to wear it", she said. I'm incredibly happy she deemed this night a right occasion. I'm so used to see her in her maid uniform that I forgot how she looks in an evening gown and the little detail makes her look like the friend she is to me. I'm pretty happy and proud of my outfit too. I picked it myself: I knew exactly what I wanted when I commissioned it to a New York fashion designer à la mode. I don't usually wear black, I much prefer colors, but lately I've been reconciling with it. And it seemed appropriate for the night: black is the color of mourning, right? What is tonight, this movie if not a commemoration of all those who aren't with us tonight, all those who sacrificed their lives for people like me and all the other survivors we managed to trace back, gathered here tonight? I'm not naive enough to ignore there is more to it, something less poetic, but I hold onto the remembrance of the lives lost. Onto that night: I hope the meaning of my sapphire necklace, the same one I wore on my birthday night, is not lost to those who were there. A hand on my shoulder, a gentle touch. As my heart races a bit faster I turn...but no, it's only my colleague, my fictional sister greeting me at the arm of John, Richard's right hand. I kiss her cheeks and invite the two of them to join us. She is visibly excited when she announces that the foyer is packed: she had never seen a crowd like that. It's a delight to hear but I can only hope in that crowd are a few familiar faces I long to see. One dear face I desperately long to see. One last time, at least if that's what it must be but I need to see her, to make amends and tell her the truth. She must know: I owe her that. When the stewards eventually open the velvet curtains, the auditorium fills fast, women in fur stoles and men in tuxedo swarm in like bees, chatting lively as they take a seat. I stretch my neck to see if I can find her face but my eyes only meet tycoons, socialite and strangers. Is that man over there checking the night programme Felix? I certainly hope so: if he's here, Lawrence must be too. And God knows how I need him tonight. After what feels like an eternity, it's time. The premiere begins. "Here goes nothing" Richard sighs, taking my hand into his as they dim off the lights. I wish I could have spotted Adele before darkness fall on the auditorium and the projector starts crackling. Apparently, uncertainty must torture me a bit longer.

As story unfolds on screen, I hear the audience hold their breath in awe and fear and for a moment I am reminded why I love my job: to give people feelings, to make them live lives they would never live even if for a fleeting moment. Their wonder, their tears of sorrow and joy are the best reward, the only reward I look for, even more important than the generous checks I receive for my performances: it makes me feel alive, it makes me believe that for a moment our hearts beat at unison and we're connected. When my character and her sister hug in the lifeboat and watch the sinking ship, the muffled sounds and sniffling around me tell me that no matter how hard performing that scene was, the message got trough. I am incredibly happy about this.

After the screening and a round of thunderous applauses, stewards lead us to the theater lobby. I have a look around while reporters and guests join us. Richard insisted to take care of the decorations and the whole movie party himself...well, with his staff: he claimed that he had asked of me too much already and he was happy to help and give Sabine a few days off. My little Napoleon was taken aback by the decision: she has always supervised every party, every mundane event. I look at her and I have to stifle a laugh at her unimpressed face. She's right: just like the picture, the decorations aren't grand enough, not luxurious enough and I have no doubt she would have done so much better than this. There isn't even music... I hear the clinking sound of camera and flash powder igniting and before I know it, a bunch of reporters are taking pictures. I put on my best smile and pose with Richard. When he agrees we offered enough coverage of the events for the moment, he guides me away from them towards a waiter in high uniform offering champagne glasses. He hands me one and takes one for himself. "To our success, to our night" he smiles, rising his glass. I repeat his toast and we cling glasses. I have just tasted the cold alcoholic sweetness of it that guests approach us. I do my best to be polite and charming: I know it's my duty even if it distracts me from my most important search for my love. Is she even here? Maybe she just tossed my invitation into the fireplace after my disappearance...oh, no, I don't wanna picture such thing! And I know it's selfish of me, maybe even my note was selfish...it probably would make things easier for her if I disappeared and let her live her life, if I let her forget me soon. Strip away the memory of the time we shared together like a band-aid. Maybe even engaging romantically with her was selfish of me in my situation...oh, I'm tormenting myself again! Focus, Zetta, focus! The guests profusely compliment and comments are awfully predictable: the jewelled wife of a well known mogul dramatically claims that the picture was "a true masterpiece" and she totally felt "as if she was there too that night". A young socialite nods and echoes her words: is she her daughter? I flash them a smile and say I am overjoyed to hear so, it was the effect we were hoping for. I am stuck into conversations like these until the party is in full swing. My head almost hurt at the insane amount of stale nonsense I hear: maybe Lawrence was right when he once said that the problem with fiction is that the audience hardly takes it as such and cannot distinguish between documentary and fictional movies. They will go to bed tonight truly convinced they know what we survivors felt that night, they will tell friends encouraging them to go see the picture (hopefully) but the truth is...they know nothing. They have no idea how terrifying it was, how gruesome. They have no idea what suddenly not knowing if you or your dear ones will see another dawn or hearing gunshots and screams of terror all around you feel. It's like ice flowing into your veins instead of blood, a clutching fear I will never forget. Their heart would have broken in a thousand pieces too hearing the despair in the voices of the poor souls swimming in the frozen water begging for a help that never came. Maybe this picture was a mistake after all, I don't know. I keep jumping from one conversation to another, peering across the crowd gathered on the balcony and below but I cannot spot anyone I know. Instead, a young man out of the blue asks me news of James: they're acquaintances and he was hoping to meet him here tonight. I sense Richard tensing up at my side as he sinks his glass of champagne. He was on the ship too, the young man continues, is he alright. I have no idea if the rumor of what happened at my birthday party has spread or if it faded away after the tragedy so I offer him a quick smile. I conceal how his reminding me of my fallen little prince is making my wound bleed again. James is fine as far as I know - I tell him - but sadly couldn't make it tonight, a previous engagement he couldn't postpone. My merciful lie seems to be enough for him as he tips his hat and asks me to bring him his greetings. As we part from them, I excuse myself and head away from the crowd "to fix my hair and rouge". Thankfully, Richard understands. He takes my glasses and places a quick kiss on my temple, whispering that it's alright, he will cover for me. He winks at me before greeting a colleague. I make a beeline for the restroom to catch some breath: I'm starting to feel a bit overwhelmed by this party but I must be patient, this night is nowhere close to be over soon. I take a deep breath, one last check and return to the lobby.

At the corner of my eye, I finally notice a familiar couple quietly having a drink in a defiled spot by the railing. Friendly faces, at last! I call their names and they turn. "Here's the belle of the ball!" Lawrence exclaims, approaching. He is charming as usual: he takes my hand and gallantly raised to his lips, smiling. He still looks tired and older than he actually is. I pull him into a quick hug. "You came, you old dog!" I joke, making him laugh. "And you too!" I wink at Felix who blushes slightly. When we part, I throw the two of them a look that - I hope - will convey my deep affection more than my words can. "I am incredibly happy you are here tonight" I smile softly. "We were incredibly happy to receive your invitation to the party, dear Zetta" Lawrence twists my words with his kindness. I take a look at him and flash him a sheepish smile. "You hated it, I know" He sighs before laughing, a gentle laugh. I speak again before he can formulate an excuse. "I can only hope I made up for it. My performance at least, the champagne..." "You were magnificent, Zetta. As usual" His smile is genuine, affectionate. Sweet dear Lawrence... "Tell you what, I had to give the gentleman here my handkerchief in the finale" he adds, a playful yet equally affectionate smile on his lips, nodding to his companion. Felix sighs, shaking his head. He cannot refrain a smile. I laugh and hug him. "That is such a great compliment, thank you, darling!" He's always been a big fan of me, he notes and Lawrence is quick to confirm it. We share a long look, quiet, safely away from the loud crowd. When will I see the two of them again? "Lots of people here tonight" Lawrence comments, after a moment, his blue eyes roaming the lobby packed with guests. "Yeah..." I sigh. "Yet you are the first friendly faces I bump into tonight. Well, apart from Sabine. Can you believe it?". I'm not surprised that he understands the unsaid. I'm relieved, actually: concealing my vulnerability but not to the point a man like him cannot sense it, underneath my words. He shares a quick look with Felix before reaching for my hand and giving it an encouraging squeeze. "Maybe it's just because you got stuck with those socialites in high hats and furs and embarrassingly expensive jewels" He winks at me and I laugh, a liberating laugh I needed so much. "Maybe" I concede before adding, hesitant. "I don't even know what I should hope for, Lawrence". He considers my words and when his eyes meet mine again, I don't want to let go of his hand. I want to hold onto him. "The night is not over, right?". I smile weakly at him: he's right but I have no idea if it's a good thing or not. Maybe it will only mean my agony is far from ending anytime soon. He seems to be reading my own thoughts. "Chin up, dear Zetta. And if you need us, we will be downstairs. Just say the word" Sometimes I wonder what I did good to have a man like him being so kind and thoughtful with me. I nod and try to recollect myself. I wish I could stay with them a bit longer but I see reporters approaching and a proper host cannot disappear forever. Sadly I must go, they know it. After one last lingering look, I take my leave. Evading the reporters is a lost war, so I surrender and pose again. How many pictures do they need, goddammit? Oh boy, this flock of vultures wants statements too. Fine, I know what to say. Marvel at how many people gather here tonight, tell how important this movie is to you, how you hope it will help bring along the memory of the tragedy...and start over. Then, with nonchalance and a charming, unreadable smile, walk away. Thank God, it works. I look for Richard or Sabine but they are both nowhere in sight. I shake hands with a couple of New York socialites when I hear a voice behind me calling my name, quietly almost shyly. I turn and see a young woman in a floral dress, red hair in elegant waves and big green eyes looking at me in awe. "Miss Serda, I just wanted to thank you for your invitation and say how flawless your performance was tonight". I flash her a smile. Have we met already? I cannot tell... "Did you enjoy the picture?" "Yes, quite a lot! Even if it's not the same, of course..." she lowers her eyes as if ashamed to anger me with such an undeniable truth. "Were you on the ship?" I inquiry, in my most reassuring voice. "Yes" she nods. "I was..." she pauses before shaking her head, a brighter smile relaxing her face. "Actually I was Adele's cabinmate. Your secretary's cabinmate, I mean". I gape and take a better look at the redhead in front of me. But of course! I saw her on the deck with a Adele as we were playing shuffleboard with the Baron. I tell her so, hoping to make her happy. It works, apparently: she looks pleasantly surprised I remember her. "You're...Clorinda!" I exclaim, reminiscing Lucille's words at our dinner, when she recognised Adele's dress as one of her own creation, a gift to her favourite model. She laughs, but her laugh is weak. "I was Clorinda, yes". "Lucille sang your praises during our journey" I smile. "Will I see you soon at her upcoming show?". "I'm afraid not, Miss Serda" her lips twist in a pained smile. "I no longer work for Mrs Duff-Gordon". Seeing my surprised face, she continues.

"I had an accident during the sinking. I am no longer suited to work as a mannequin" she explains, quickly lowering her eyes before meeting mine again and adding, cheerfully: "But it's alright. I am here, I am alive and I am in America...it's all that matters, right?". We smile weakly at each other for a moment. I feel sorry for this girl even if she seems stronger than she looks. "Adele talked of you" I tell her and I'm glad to see the mix of surprise and excitement on her face. "You're the big fan of mine who kindly borrowed the posters and memorabilia for my birthday party at the Cafe Parisien. Seeing the old and new posters, reading the little notes you wrote...it meant so much to me, truly. I have never had a chance to thank you properly but I will always remember your kindness to me". A hint of red spreads over her cheeks as she smiles a big bright smile. "Oh, it was nothing, Miss Zetta...I was honoured to give my humble contribution to your birthday. If it made you happy, I'm happy, overjoyed!". I laugh softly at her contagious enthusiasm. Adele told me it was quite endearing and she was right. Her cabinmate speaks again, still gleaming but recovering the initial shyness. "Miss Serda, I was wondering if I could...well, if I could get your autograph? I was hoping to ask you during the crossing but then.." "But of course!" I smile and beckon a steward over. When he's back with a promotional picture and a pen, I look back at my fan. "What name should I write?" "Oh, Lena. Lena Montague but Lena is just perfect". I write my dedication and hand it to her. She takes a step forward, limping a little, and I get a glimpse of her wooden leg as she looks down at the picture with reverence. "There, for you. And your new collection, maybe" I wink.

She thanks me but I insist that it's my line. And a sudden idea crosses my mind. "Thank you for coming, Miss Montague. I am glad I got a chance to make your acquaintance. And I was wondering...I remember expressing the wish to invite you for breakfast after being informed of your lovely gesture, to thank you. Would you accept a belated invitation? Let's say next week?". I have never seen such starry eyes on a face of a fan. "And who would be so foolish to turn down an invitation from you, Miss Serda? Sure thing!" "Excellent! I'll send my maid to you then, she's here somewhere...enjoy the party, Miss Montague". I kiss her cheeks and offer her one last smile before going back to my guests. I search Sabine but I find Richard instead, who introduces me to a couple of survivors he shook hands with. It doesn't take long before I realise why he wanted me to meet them: they say they were on my lifeboat and it was thanks to my intervention that they survived that awful night. They will be eternally grateful. I...I don't know what to say. I see Richard smiling proudly down at me while a faint blush spread over my cheeks. I tell them I am sure they would have helped too if the roles were reversed and wish them a happy new life in America. As they part, I finally spot my little Napoleon approaching, imperturbable as the Sphinx, quietly observing the stewards moving from one side of the hall to other. You can take away her apron but not her inquisitive gaze, I suppose: no rest for Sabine... "Ah, here you are!" I greet her, before teasing her. "I feared I lost you in the crowd" She offers me a quick amused smile. "I wasn't lost, Madam, just mingling. An impressive crowd tonight, n'est pas?" "Beyond our wildest expectations, yes!" Richard confirms, eyes roaming the upper floor.

"I am glad to hear, Monsieur King. A well deserved success" my maid bows her head, concealing once again the disappointment for not being involved in the party setting. Then she turns towards me and continues, with a nonchalance that is only pretended. I know it quite well... "By a fortunate coincidence, I bumped into Miss Carrem just a moment ago". I can only hope my face doesn't betray my feelings, the turmoil her words provoked inside me. Adele is here, she came. I will get to see her at least one last time, I will talk to her. My words will be a poor consolation to her maybe but...I will see her again. "Carrem...Carrem, Carrem...oh right, your secretary on board, huh?" Richard exclaims but I barely register what he's saying. All I can think of is Adele, Adele here, tonight. Oh God, thank you! "Oui, precisement" my little Napoleon confirms on my behalf as I cannot speak. "An exquisite young lady, if I say so myself. The best candidate we had in ages, Monsieur, and I am not easily impressed, I assure you". Richard says something about how he would love to make her acquaintance and thank Miss Carrem personally but I am not listening just like the night of our arrival when he was stroking my hand but my head was far away with he woman I foolishly a abandoned at the pier. "I left her in the main hall downstairs. She's with her sister" Sabine adds, addressing me. Snapping out of my reverie, I manage to remind Richard that I talked a little about them. They were on my lifeboat too, we stayed together on the Carpathia...but I am extremely grateful to the providential steward who beckons him over. He sighs and excuses himself, saying he will be back before we know it. As soon as he's out of earshot and someone else interrupts me again, I wrap my arm around Sabine's and lead her to the side, by the railing. Now that Richard is gone, I can show my concern more freely. To some extent, obviously but I think I am safe with my little Napoleon.

"How is she? Did she look alright?" I inquiry, checking over my shoulder. Sabine ponders her words, as if thinking how to describe the impression her brief meeting with Adele left on her. After what feels like an eternity for my tormented heart, she speaks. "If I may, she looks...troubled". I knew it, I feared so. But hearing it put down into words makes me frown. "Troubled? But of course...what a fool I have been! I shouldn't have invited her here tonight, I should have visited her and-" But I can't bring myself to finish my own sentence. "Troubled with grief, I mean. With with the weight of what happened that night. Mourning, you would say, perhaps". Then she sighs, a deep sigh, shaking her head. "It's such a pity to see a young woman like her taking the world over her shoulders, all that sorrow, all that pain". "She wouldn't be Adele if she didn't" I smile, thinking of every time she spoke of her fight for women's rights, the days she spent in jail for it. My sweet revolutionary is indeed a little Atlas and I fear no one can change that, it's simply her nature. But it pains me to see her so miserable and I cannot shake away the feeling that my disappearance played a role in it. At the very least I added salt on her injury. "But Mademoiselle Carrem is strong" Sabine interrupts my somber train of thoughts. "She just needs time, that's all, I think. Time and a little joie de vivre, don't you think, Madam?".

I smile sadly at her words. "Don't we all need it, ma chére Sabine? A little joie the vivre...". Yes, it certainly would be nice. But is it even possible? Even for people like me and Adele or are we forced to be content with cheap surrogates that keep us floating on the water surface? I wish I had an answer... "I will go talk to her" I sigh, straightening my skirt. "I am sure MademoIselle Carrem will be delighted to see you, Madam". "I hope so, Sabine". Yes, I do hope so. We look at each other for a moment before I speak again. "Oh, before I forget...would you mind getting Miss Montague's address and find out when I can meet her for breakfast next week or so?" I ask, nodding at my fan's figure in the hall downstairs. "And book a table to the Plaza or the St Regis. They're both fine...oh and please, send Miss Montague a poster of Surviving the Titanic. I'll ask Richard to sign it too". I fill her in about the details of Lena's life before the sinking and her troubled arrival: the incident, the loss of her job and the end of her modelling career. Sabine bows her head. "Certament, Madam". "In the meantime, I'll see if I can find a way to do more. I wish I could do more for her, somehow" I continue, lost in my thoughts. My little Napoleon nods and goes quiet, pondering. Around us, the sound of laughters and clinging glasses. When she speaks again, she almost startles me. "I'll be on my way" she announces, standing straighter. Before taking her leave, she looks at me and comments quietly that it has just come to her mind that I still haven't found a new secretary since our arrival. I know that look, that pretended nonchalance once again. As Richard approaches, I give her arm a gentle squeeze, a faint smile crossing my lips. "Go find Miss Montague, Sabine. And not a word on this before I speak to the girl". She throws me a conspiratorial look and walks away. When I turn, Richard is offering me his arm. "Fancy a trip downstairs, darling?". "I thought you never asked!" I smirk, wrapping my arm around his.

As we start walk down the stairs, I can feel my heart beating faster in my chest at the thought of my proximity to Adele, how close we are after all this months...even if it's also different now. But it doesn't matter: I don't want it to matter now...what did she say on the deck of the sinking ship? ‘All I care about is that you're here with me, and safe’. Yes, that it's all I care about too. I...saw her. She's with Hileni by a small table with hors d'ouvres and a pyramid of champagne glasses. Be still my heart, I beg you, be still...but it doesn't listen. I cannot control it anymore now that I know for sure she's here. She's wearing a green dress that it or just perfect for her but it enhances her beauty, if it's even possible. Oh, Adele...you have no idea how badly I have missed you! I feel my face lighten up and my lips curl into a bright, happiest smile. See what hold you have on me, my love? I don't even pay attention to those who greet and part as I walk by: I only have eyes for one guest now, for her. The first who spots me is Hileni: her eyes widen at the sight of me. I suppose she has never seen me in all my glory before; on the Carpathia, even if I was still wearing the outfit of my birthday party underneath the coat a kind fan gave me, I was out of my element just like the rest of us. Adele turns a moment later, following her sister's gaze. When our eyes meet, I almost feel my knees get weak. I hope she can see that this smile is meant for her only. I think she does, she brightens up almost immediately I turn towards Richard. "Will you excuse me a moment? I want to say hi to a dear friend I haven't seen in a while...". Dear friend: the euphemism is an insult to what Adele means to me but it will do. Just like the fiction, it's what the world can take. "Sure, go ahead. I'll go find John" he smiles, parting. I immediately glide over to my love, heart racing in my chest. "Adele"

I call her name and the sweet sound of her name fills my mouth. I place my hand on her upper arms and kisses both her cheeks. Restraining myself from pulling her into a tight embrace and linger in that closeness is a Herculean effort. Her perfume, the shade of red spreading over her cheeks, her shy smile. How I missed you... "Let's you and I catch up" I say, still smiling so brightly. I turn to Hileni and ask: "Mind if I borrow your sister for a moment?". She nods, still looking awed. Without hesitation, I take Adele's arm and lead her to a corner of the room apart from the other guests. For a moment, none of us can't find words. Funny how words are most difficult to find with those who are dearest to our heart. But I know what it is...I feel it too. The weight of our past between us. The memory of our brief happiness together.

A last, I summon up enough courage to finally speak. "Ad-" "I-" We start talking at the same time, then burst into laughter. Look at us, two fools lost to love! "I feel...almost nervous. Ridiculous, aren't I?" I keep my smile on but I know, just know she sensed the vulnerability reverberating in my voice who has suddenly lost the confidence I had before with my guests. She smiles too, gesturing that it's alright. "Zetta, it's...so good to see you again". I am sure my mind now is less cheerful. Time for my poor apologies. "I'm sorry, Adele. I should have written or visited" I sigh. "I've just been so busy..." To my surprise, she interrupts me, understanding, smiling. "I understand. You've been making the film, and you're getting married..." But she suddenly lose the train of whatever else she had planned to say. Adele, you and I can try to behave normally around each other, to act as if nothing happened...but we simply fail all the time. Our feelings always get in the way, my love, and God knows if I don't know it too well. And this, this sadness cutting off your words is all my fault. "I know you're upset" I frown.

She meets my eyes again in a silent, unnecessary apology. You have nothing to apologise for, I do. And I owe you the cruel truth, at last. I take in a deep breath to steady myself and let my mask fall. I drop my voice to a whisper so that only she can hear. "I've been agonizing over what I'd say when I saw you. And I never came up with a good answer". Adele, if only you knew the nights I spend writing you the most ardent, sorrowful letters! "I love you. I want to be with you. But this marriage has to go forward or my career's done". Do you understand my impossible position, my dearest? But please, I beg you never doubt my feelings. "Doubt thou the stars are fire, doubt the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar...but never doubt I love". When she speaks, her voice is a pained whisper and her words an excruciating plea. "Zetta, please don't do this. I want us to spend our lives together". I couldn't ask for anything better, sweet Adele, but...there is always a cruel but for us. "Even if that life had to be kept secret?" I grimace. "If people knew about us, it would destroy everything I've worked for". Look what malicious rumours brought on Lawrence and Felix even without a solid evidence of their relationship. Look what the world does to people like us. These guests, my adoring fans crowd the movie theaters to see me fall in love with the hero, the dashing heartthrob 'every woman daydream of' without asking me what I really want. They smile and awe at me tonight but they wouldn't hesitate to drag me down into the gutter if they knew who my heart truly belongs to. "I...I can't have both you and my career".

I lower my eyes unable to sustain her gaze any longer. I am so incredibly sorry, Adele, so sorry.... She reaches for my hand, shyly, and I am reminded of the first time she took my hand into hers in my private projection room on board of the Titanic. The soothing warmth of her hand over mine felt so intimate, calming...just like now. I look back at her and I have to fight back tears. She looks over her shoulder then she speaks, her voice low. "I don't care if no one knows about us. All I care about is that there is an us. I need you, Zetta". My eyes widen as I register the meaning of her words. Does she...does she mean it? "Are you sure?" I ask her, unsure whether she is fully aware of what she's proposing. "This won't be like it was on the Titanic, bathhouses and stolen kisses. It won't be easy..." She searches my eyes and nods. I...I would have never thought nor hoped for such a hopeful end of this conversation I feared so much. Oh my dear...not losing Adele, being with Adele! Out of instinct, I move to kiss her but I refrain myself just in time, painfully aware of the surroundings. I must long for your lips a bit longer, my love...but it doesn't matter, we're together now. "We'll need to come up with a plan..." I consider. "How do you feel about being my publicist?". "About as confident as I felt about being your secretary" she beams. I laugh as I laughed with her in the most dire moments...incredible what a light she casts on me, even when I am at my lowest. I regard her fondly as a newfound sweet joie de vivre starts spreading inside me, and I put my hand to her cheek. "This is the happiest I've felt in months...knowing you'll be at my side" I whisper, my voice trembling with the swirl of feelings taking hold of me. "Always" she whispers back, slightly leaning to the touch.

Suddenly we're both brought back to the party by the flash powder igniting around us. As I unwillingly retrieve my hand we're surrounded by journalists shouting my name. I am too overjoyed by our sweet reunion to be annoyed by them. I wish they could have forgotten about me a bit longer, granting me more time with Adele but they are oddly bearable this time.

I see her leaning closer and putting her mouth to my ear. The words she whispers send my heart fluttering.

"I love you". I turn my face to meet her eyes. I must summon every ounce of strength I have to stop myself from pulling her mouth to mine, pouring my affection on her right in front of the photographers. I see the same restraint in her eyes. There will be other nights for that. Yes, there will other nights... "And I you" I whisper back. My voice is soft, adoring...how could I not adore her? I smile at her one last time before turning to the cameras and bathing into the flash lights. They better capture this moment, I think: I will never be as radiant as I am now. As they keep calling my name and taking picture of me posing, I slowly return to the party I momentarily left for my reunion to Adele. I spot Richard and John lightening cigarettes by the staircase and not far Miss Montague chatting with a man I have never seen before. Sabine is checking herself in a mirror, fixing her headband...a rare moment of vanity for her. Hileni is pondering whether going for the pastry mignons is a bit too much and once saw me looking at her, she shyly waves at me and walks away. To my delight, Lawrence is signing an autograph to a fan, under the proud gaze of Felix, who took a step back. Good old Lawrence... ‘Sometimes our secrets are what make our lives worth living. No matter with what high cost they come attached’, he said. And he was right. I used to repeat to myself that you can't breathe if you're constantly underwater. It turns out I was wrong. With her love, I can breathe underwater.

#titanic storyscape #zetta serda #adele carrem #zetta x adele #zetta x adele series

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