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let-them-read-fics · 3 years

Text

Bite

Pairing: Vamp!Lisa x Human!Fem!Reader

AU: Vampire

Word Count: ~ 5,564

Warnings / Misc. -- Mentions of Blood

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hey everyone! I'm alive! School has kept me crazy busy and I've had my hands full with other things as well, but I finished writing this one and I wanted to share with you lovely peeps. To everyone who stopped by to check in, and to those of you who’ve been patiently waiting, thank you endlessly. I love having you as my readers 💜

PS ~ I hope this isn't too bad for my first one shot in forever! Also, happy Lisa era. I’m so proud of our girl!

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Saturday, October 31st

You look like an idiot.

The nurse uniform you have on is obnoxiously cliché; short and tattered in various places to really sell the "sexy" aspect of it, little is left to the imagination. Fake blood stains dot the flimsy material in random patterns and mat some strands of the tacky blonde wig atop your head, making you look like something out of a B-movie at best.

A bonafide, absolute idiot.

When you express that sentiment to your best friend, she just rolls her eyes and holds out one last costume for you to try on. She had a few lined up in case you didn't like her other options, and clearly that's come in handy; you've already worked through the previous picks, so she crosses her fingers as your eyes skim over this one.

"Humor me, will you?" She asks, hoping that you'll give in and at least check this last one out.

"Fine, but this is your last chance. It had better be good." You raise a pointed finger at her in warning.

"I have a good feeling about this one," she says, smiling as you take the bag from her and slip into the dressing room one final time.

Her phone chimes soon after, and she's quick to retrieve it from her pocket.

Willow: Are you guys almost here?? Jackson's been asking about you.

Your best friend bites her lip at that, nervously nibbling on it as she rereads the message to make sure she didn't imagine the last part. She's liked Jackson since middle school, and he'll be swinging by the party that you've all been invited to; that's one of the main reasons she begged you to come with her tonight.

Y/BFFs/N: Still getting ready. We'll be there ASAP tho!

Willow: Alright, we'll see you soon. Don't take all night, or else👩🤛

Y/BFFs/N: Yah, cut the violence!

The sound of your best friend's soft giggling fills the air just as you manage to fasten the costume's last zipper and pull its hood over your head.

Surprise etches its way into your features as you do a spin, taking in the sight of yourself through the full length mirror of the dressing room. The outfit's red and black color schemes complement each other beautifully, giving you a powerful and sensual appeal that the other costumes didn't even stand a chance of doing. You look alluring in every sense of the word.

"Holy shit," your best friend says when you emerge, striking a pose. "You look hot!" She squeals, clapping a few times in quick succession.

There's no way you think this one looks bad.

"I think Wanda would be proud," you grin, tilting your head up and wrapping the cape around your neck.

"One hundred percent," Y/BFFs/N nods adamantly, in total agreement. The Scarlet Witch getup really compliments your features.

"Now," she starts, changing topics as she looks in the reflection of her phone's dark screen to adjust some of her hair that's gone astray. "Let's pay and then go. Willow's looking for us, and my future man's wondering where I am, too."

"Hell yeah!" You chuckle, patting her on the back. "I'll help you finally land him so you can stop pining."

You watch as she takes a moment to decide between coming up with a decent rebuttal to defend herself or agreeing with you, and you smile when she goes for the latter.

"I'd accept nothing less," she says, holding her head high like a princess. "You are my wingwoman, after all."

"And the best one in town," you add, tugging her towards the register. She reaches into her purse and pulls out the money to pay before politely handing it to the cashier.

The teenage boy takes it with a small smile, though the action looks a little comical as his upper lip gets caught on the cheap, plastic fangs he's sporting. His knock-off version of Dracula is definitely…. something… and you can tell that his managers forced him to wear it for the holiday.

"Come back and s-shhee us," he says, handing your change back. Your best friend takes it, failing to contain her laughter at his messy speech. He blushes crimson, likely cursing the plastic teeth for making him look a fool.

"We surely will," you respond, giving him a comforting smile to keep his embarrassment at bay. He nods gratefully, and you're quickly pulled out of the store by your best friend.

"Happy Halloween!" You shout over your shoulder, accompanied by the chime of the bell over the door.

"You too," he calls back, letting out a soft sigh.

---

20 Minutes Later -- The Party

Upon rounding the front of your car and stepping up onto the sidewalk outside of Willow's house, your attention is immediately caught by the numerous decorations that she put up last week.

"Huh," you mumble, gazing up at the skeleton that towers above you, standing 12 feet tall. "I think it's safe to say that this is her favorite holiday…"

"What makes you think that?" Your best friend plays, feigning ignorance as she pops up from behind a life-sized, animatronic Jason Voorhees.

"I don't know," you tut, admiring Willow's hard work a little longer. "Just a feeling."

Y/BFFs/N giggles in her unique way, making you smile at the sound as the two of you make your way up the path towards the house. You gaze down at your feet, careful to step on the stones of the walkway and avoid the motion-activated hands that scramble out of the weeds to grab unsuspecting guests.

Having known Willow your entire childhood, you've grown used to her ways.

*knock knock*

A strong, iconic synth bassline sounds off from inside, filling the otherwise quiet night around you with its catchy beat as you wait to be let in. Its sound is well known, and you almost instantly recognize it as "Sweet Dreams" by the Eurythmics.

A few seconds later, you hear clambering from inside, followed by concerning groans and shouted apologies.

Y/BFFs/N arches a skeptical brow at you, perfectly mirroring your thoughts.

Directly after, the door swings open in a flash, and you're nearly tackled by a whizz of curly hair.

"There you guys are!" Willow shrieks, pulling the two of you close as she nuzzles her face against your cheeks.

"Yep, here we are," you struggle out, nearly being strangled in her tight grip. She responds by squeezing you even tighter, blinded by her joy at seeing you again.

After all, it's been a while since all three of you have had the opportunity to spend the night partying together like this.

"Can't… breathe," Y/BFFs/N squeaks, successfully getting Willow to release you.

"Sorry," she apologizes, stepping back. "I'm just so happy you're here."

The freckles that spread across the bridge of her nose look especially adorable with the blush she's sporting, and her shy grin makes you forget about the near-fatality you just encountered moments before.

"We're happy to be here," you reassure her, returning her smile.

Your best friend agrees from beside you, nodding her head with a happy look of her own. "Believe it or not, we've missed your weirdness." She adds, cocking her head to the side.

Willow giggles again, and her eyes crinkle up into those half crescents that could surely melt even the iciest of hearts. She's practically sunshine in human form, and you have to resist the urge to shield your eyes.

"Yo, Willow! Who's at the door?"

Jackson.

You feel your best friend tense beside you, and you subtly pat her leg to calm her down.

Willow falls silent, though her lips go through the beginning stages of answering him; they open and purse, but she quickly halts her reply and shuts her mouth. She knows of Y/BFFs/N's crush on him, and she doesn't want to say the wrong thing.

Plus, if the lovesick girl wants to run and hide in the bushes, Willow's silence could buy her some time to slip away.

But alas, she doesn't.

Jackson appears in the doorway a mere 5 seconds after asking his question with a beer clutched in his hand. He moves to lean against the wooden frame as his pearly smile beams at you, and Y/BFFs/N audibly swallows at the sight.

For someone who's usually so confident, she can really be shy sometimes.

"Lovely to see you, ladies," he greets, putting his free hand in front of him as he bows. His accent is modeled after that of Jack Sparrow, as is his surprisingly well designed costume.

You nod back at him. "Hey, Jackson. Long time no see."

You elbow your best friend when she remains silent for a beat too long, and the action snaps her back to reality.

"Yeah, hey Jackson." Her voice is quiet -- she doesn't trust it to refrain from cracking.

He smiles, not failing to notice the nervous aura that's quickly taken over the girl beside you. Her eyes nearly pop out of her head when he gives her a curious once-over, and you take that as your cue to save her from the impending embarrassment that's lurking just around the corner.

"Alright, guys!" You clap, stepping forward. "Let's get to partying."

Her shoulders relax, and you feel her slip her hand into yours as you enter the house, squeezing twice as a silent thank you.

15 Minutes Later

Willow stands beside you in the kitchen, mixing a few things together in one of the millions of red solo cups that she bought for tonight. You sneak a peek over her shoulder at the concoction, seeing its light blue color turn purple-ish as she adds a new liquor into the equation.

In comparison to typical house parties, this one is relatively small; most of the rooms are filled with people, but it's a comfortable amount. Maneuvering around the place is fairly easy, which is always a plus when you're coexisting with sweaty, drunk people.

"Willow, love, why did you buy so many cups?" You ask, toying with the ripped plastic packaging of one of the stacks.

"You know I like to be prepared," she laughs, brushing off her major miscalculation. "Plus I can just use the rest of them at my next party."

You nod, knowing she's right. "Are you having another soon?"

"I think so. Jiu and her crew are coming back in a couple weeks, so I thought I'd surprise them with one."

You scoff, humor laced in the sound. "What, they didn't get enough partying done at their university already?"

Willow turns around, grinning at you as she hands you your drink. "Evidently campus police keep a close eye on them. Siyeon whined about that a lot when she called me."

"Sounds like her," you chuckle into your cup as you take a sip.

PFFT

"Eww, Willow! What did you put in this?!"

Your spit take didn't land on anyone, thankfully, but it did capture the attention of some people nearby. You wave a hand at them as a silent apology, and they go back to their previous tasks.

The curly headed prankster covers her mouth, though the action does a terrible job of quieting her maniacal laughter.

"You're lucky Y/BFFs/N isn't over here," you say, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. "She'd avenge me."

Willow uses a napkin to dab the tears of laughter from her eyes. "Why else do you think I waited until she was busy with Jackson?" She asks, motioning to her lounge room across the foyer.

You look inside, spotting Y/BFFs/N holding a pool cue in her hand as Jackson sinks another shot into one of the corner pockets.

The sight reminds you of the pep talk and 2 shots of liquid courage you gave her earlier, and how she disappeared with the promise to make a move and actually talk to him. Now, she looks completely absorbed in whatever banter they're sharing, and although your violated taste buds still ache from the sickly-sweet mixture that Willow made, you wouldn't want her to be anywhere else.

You can get your own revenge.

Sneaking a glance around the kitchen, you search for something to help with your retaliation. A small package of streamers lays abandoned on the island, forgotten to be put up earlier, and you slyly grin. Their ribbons sparkle with glitter, shimmering as the multicolored party lights stream in from the living room and land on them.

It's as if the universe is putting a spotlight on them, just for you.

After side eyeing Willow one final time to ensure that she isn't catching onto your plan, you act quickly. She stands beside the counter, right where you left her, and you dart to the island to grab the streamers. Your fingertips soon gain purchase on the packaging, and you tear it open in one swift motion.

Her gaze locks onto yours just as you near her, but it's far too late for her to get away.

"Take this!" You declare, upending the baggie atop her head. She shrieks as they cascade down her body, getting caught in the creases and wrinkles of her costume as they go. A small wave of glitter tumbles out of the bag as well, coating her hair and clothes.

Boy, that'll be fun to try and get out later.

Her head slowly raises once you finish your assault and place the baggie on the countertop beside you, but the look in her eye is unlike anything you've ever seen.

"You're dead," she warns. Just as the smile drops from your face, an even larger, more sinister one begins forming on hers.

The floor creaks beneath your feet slightly as you take a step back, and you know you have to high tail it out of there if you want to evade her.

"Catch me if you can!" You shout, springing into action. You turn around and dart out of the room, gliding past numerous partygoers in the hall.

Willow's choice of footwear works in your favor, you soon realize; the sharp rapping sound of her heels pierces the air behind you, serving as a tell of how much distance is between you.

Her unstable platforms buy you a little time, and you thank the universe as you rush through the living room and back towards the foyer. You plan to cut across it and hide out in one of the bathrooms until she drops her plan for revenge.

A grin pulls at your cheeks as you skid into one of the walls, looking like a character from Scooby-Doo as you will your feet to work correctly again and get you to safety. Willow laughs behind you, joining in on the fun.

"Perfect," you mutter under your breath, spotting a clear path through the foyer. It leads under the stairs, and you can see the open door of the bathroom from where you are.

Your feet take you past a handful of drunk people, bobbing and weaving through them with ease, before you're racing towards the restroom to take cover.

Before you can make it there, though, you collide with someone rather abruptly as they step straight into your path.

Your eyes shut tightly as you brace yourself for impact with the ground, but it never comes. The person reaches out and catches you before you can hit the floor, and a soft apology slips past their lips as they scoop you up.

Upon hearing that uniquely feminine voice speak its regret again, you peek your eyes open. What you see nearly makes the woman's effort to keep you upright moot; she's so gorgeous that your legs almost give out from underneath you.

Dirty blonde locks cascade over her shoulders in soft waves, half-mussed, half-pristine from your run-in. Her doe eyes are a velvety chocolate color, and you find yourself getting lost in them. Flickers of red show in them, illuminating almost rhythmically the longer she admires you.

Are those contacts? You ask yourself. They have to be.

She seems to be just as affected by your presence as you are of hers.

"Y/N, I'm coming to get you!"

Willow does her best to sound like a villain from a 90s horror film as she clambers her way closer to you, bumping into a few people on the way. You're brought out of your stupor by her rapidly approaching footsteps, and you take a step away from the woman. Her hands fall from your waist, where they had previously been resting.

Stealing a quick look at the bathroom, you feel your stomach turn.

Damnit. Someone's in there now.

Screw this sexy stranger for distracting you. Now you'll have to deal with Willow's wrath.

"What's wrong?"

There's that voice again.

Part of you wants to brush it off and slip away quietly, but an even bigger part of you is determined to stay where you are and tell her. Something about her pulls you in, and you're having a hard time denying it.

"I need to hide. I glitter-fied my friend and now she's coming after me."

The woman's plump lips pull back in a humored smile, and she nods as a chuckle leaves her. "Right," she says, like that's a common occurrence. "I can help, if you'd like."

"How?" You ask, your brows momentarily knitting together in confusion. When she unties and opens the black cloak that's wrapped around her body, your breath catches.

"You in?" She asks, side eyeing the foyer as Willow nearly careens into the Egyptian vase that her mother bought her last year for Christmas.

You take a deep breath and hold your hand out to her just as Willow rounds the corner, and she swiftly pulls you in close before you can be spotted. She winds the cloak around both of your bodies, concealing your faces as the fur-lined hood falls atop your heads.

Unconsciously, you wrap your arms around her waist and pull her flush up against you to further ensure your safety. She quietly grunts when she stumbles over her own feet, falling into you a little.

"Sorry," she whispers, though her third apology of the night is unnecessary. You almost want to thank her for what happened.

Especially when her warm breath fans across your right cheek, where her head is angled.

Every breath you take pushes you closer to each other, and the satin shirt she's wearing slides against your heated skin. She swallows thickly as one of your hands falls to the small of her back, testing the waters.

When she shifts a little to encourage you, you're acutely aware of the thigh that's worked its way between your legs.

When did that happen?

You bite back a sigh as she just smirks, quietly shushing you.

Willow thunders by, shouting your name and threatening to throw you into the pool when she tracks you down. You want to laugh at that, but you'd honestly welcome it right now. Some cold water would surely bring you to your senses after being led astray by this goddess in front of you.

Her footsteps grow distant as she makes her way outside, still searching.

The two of you remain as you are for a couple more minutes until you're certain that the coast is clear, and then you part. When she lowers the cloak, you look away; a deep blush has worked its way up your neck and across your cheeks, and letting her see it would surely make you die of embarrassment.

She keeps her eyes on you as she reties the cover around herself, attempting to get a read on you. The bashful aura that's befallen you is cute, no doubt, but she can sense your arousal. She can smell it on you, and the scent is beginning to drive her crazy.

You fiddle with the sleeves of your costume, readjusting them nervously.

"So, um… thanks," you say, sneaking a glance up at her.

The red hues in her eyes are even more pronounced now, and the sight makes you press further into the wall behind you -- the one that you were previously pushed up against.

"No problem," she smiles, showing off her pearly white teeth. Two of them catch your attention; a set of fangs now shine, looking alluring and threatening all at the same time.

There's only one issue: you're certain that they weren't there when you first bumped into her. When did she put them in? And why do they look so real?

The feeling of her hand landing on your forearm pulls you away from the millions of questions that're firing off in your head right now.

"May I ask your name?" She politely requests, dipping her head down sweetly.

"Y/N," you breathe out, quickly realizing that you'd do just about anything she asked you to.

"Y/N." She repeats, allowing the letters to blend in her mouth as they roll off her tongue. She looks satisfied for some reason as she says it again, trying it out.

"I'm Lisa."

"It's nice to officially meet you," you smile, reaching a hand out. Her touch is gentle but firm as she takes it, shaking it with ease.

"Likewise, beautiful."

The grin on your face only widens at the name, and you pull your hand away out of fear of what she might do next. She's already putting you under her spell, and you're sure that another touch would have you fully entranced.

She studies you with pursed lips for a moment, clearly debating on something. Her eyes flicker over the dips and curves of your body as a smirk grows on her lips.

"What are you thinking?" You question, curious but teasing.

"That I'd love to have your body on mine again."

She's bold, and she says it like the fact it is. No shame, no bashfulness. Just true, honest desire.

You bite the inside of your cheek at her bravery, silently thanking the universe for it. The likelihood of you gaining the courage to make a move is slim to none even in the best cases, and this was no exception. She already has your heart skipping beats and you've only known her a few minutes.

"How about a dance?" She suggests, quirking a brow. The look on her face disarms your defenses, and you take a deep breath before agreeing to your demise.

"That sounds wonderful."

She dips her head again, hiding her face away momentarily, and you think it's the cutest thing ever.

She's shy all of a sudden as her cool demeanor slips up a bit, and that never happens. You might just be her downfall, too.

She holds an elbow out and steps forward, allowing you to link your arm with hers and cuddle in close.

Her eyes scan across the living room as she studies it, but she's unimpressed.

Sweaty, winding bodies thrash around to some upbeat pop song that's been overplayed on every radio station in town for weeks now, and the idea of taking you there puts her off.

When a drunk boy comes into view with a dildo strapped to his forehead, her mind is officially made up.

"Let's go outside," she says, leading you through the patio doors.

A quaint gazebo sits on one side of the yard, and the dance floor that Willow's family installed a couple years ago occupies the other. Both are decorated with string lights in combinations of gold, purple, black, and orange. Other ornaments adorn the surfaces as well, and you smile when you spot a comically large spider sat atop the gazebo's roof.

"Where would you like to go?" Lisa asks, keeping her voice low. It's calm and deep, running a chill through you.

Softer music plays out here, offering a totally different vibe than inside. Some couples -- many of them introverted, assumably -- sway on the dancefloor as the DJ that Willow hired takes a sip of her drink on the raised stage. She adjusts a few switches slowly, not rushing for a second.

"Let's try the gazebo," you decide, glancing over your shoulder at Lisa. She's looking away, but you don't think anything of it as the two of you fall in step with one another on your way over.

Shit, Lisa thinks to herself.

Her plans to come to this party, feed, and make a quick getaway are totally derailed. She'd hoped to find a victim that she was attracted to but didn't like, if that even makes sense, and feed like the animal she is. Then she would leave them like all the rest, drained but still alive, and slip away.

But now she's met you, and any desire for those plans have been thrown out the window.

You interest her, and that doesn't happen often. She hasn't met someone who's been capable of doing that in years, and she's intrigued. Something about you just pulls her in, inexplicably, and she knows her feelings would be glaringly obvious if you saw her face right now.

"Woah, look at this," you sigh, stepping out of her hold to check the place out. A bench runs the perimeter of the gazebo, only stopping at the doorway, and the lights look even prettier from inside. They shimmer, looking like star showers as their strings hang down in the windowless openings of the building.

Lisa quickly learns that she loves seeing you like this. Your eyes are alight, and your sweet smile of wonder warms her heart. Her hands slip into her pockets as she eventually manages to take her eyes off you, following your lead as she admires the decorations.

She does a twirl, looking around.

"It's gorgeous."

"I know, right? This is totally up Willow's alley," you say, grinning at the mental image that you can conjure up of her giddily spiffing the scene up.

"I'll have to thank her for making it look so special, then," Lisa says, smiling. The place really makes you feel like you're in your own little world; everything about it is just right. The ambience, the decor, the company… it’s perfect, and Lisa's content with how the evening is playing out.

Her fingers skate down your arm as she nears you, trekking their way down to your palm. She takes your hand and spins you, watching with admiration as your hair flows in the breeze. Now facing her, you thread your fingers together around the back of her neck as she encircles your waist with her arms.

"Why have I never seen you around?" You ask sincerely, looking up at her.

She hesitates briefly. "My university is a few towns over. I just come here to visit my family every few months."

Not a total lie, she thinks to herself.

"And stop by terrible parties like this, of course." You add, smirking.

She shakes her head at that. "No, I can't say I do. I just decided to check this one out on my way to my friend's house." She explains.

Underneath your cloak, her hands find their way to the small of your back. One stays put while the other dips a little lower, testing the waters.

"And besides," she starts again, feeling you pull her closer. "Meeting you here automatically makes this an awesome party. Not terrible."

"Cheeeesy!" You scrunch your face up and groan, making her laugh.

"Maybe, but it's the truth."

"Sure, Lisa."

She shakes her head and you laugh lightly together, still swaying about. You hold her close enough to rest your head on her shoulder, and the pads of your thumbs rub small circles on the sensitive skin of her neck. She hums at the feeling, and you take note of the way she relaxes in your arms.

The night breeze appears again, performing a flowing dance of its own as it lulls past you in waves. A slight chill resides in it, mixed with a generous amount of the day's sweet, fading heat, and you're at peace.

The slow song that had been playing across the yard ends delicately, parting with some melodic feature that resembles a warm embrace, and it blends seamlessly into the next song.

Turning Page, you recognize it as.

Huh, how ironic. One of your favorites.

Lisa's lips brush against your cheek as she turns her head slightly, whispering, "I like this one, too."

How did she know? You ask yourself. You hadn't said it out loud…

Maybe she's just a good guesser. Yeah, that's gotta be it.

You feel yourself melt as she begins singing the words to you. It's hushed and sentimental -- meant only for your ears to hear, and that makes it even more special to you.

"If I had only felt the warmth within your touch"

She croons, pressing her cheek against your warm skin. You blush, catching yourself when you remember what the next line of the song is.

"If I had only seen how you smile when you blush"

She brings a hand up to cup your cheek in her palm, and her other arm remains around you, holding you tenderly.

"Or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough"

Now, her thumb runs across your bottom lip. You look into her eyes and find them an even deeper shade of red than they had been before, but it doesn't frighten you for some reason. She glances down at your mouth again, fighting her impatience as she waits for permission from you.

"I would have known what I was living for all along"

You nod and lace your fingers in her locks, and she doesn't waste another second.

She leans in, humming against your lips when they meet hers for the first time. Her lipgloss spreads across them upon contact, smudging its precise application, but she doesn't seem to care in the slightest. She draws you in closer, and you bring both of your hands around to cup her face as you deepen the kiss.

Her mouth is welcoming against yours, and it moves languidly as you get adjusted to one another. Every move makes you feel dizzier than the one before it, and swarms of butterflies take flight in your stomach with no signs of stopping.

She nips at your bottom lip as her hands dip far lower than before, now kneading your ass as your kisses continue to work her up.

"Fuck," you curse, breaking away from her lips to catch your breath. She's stolen it all from you, and yet she's still not ready to give you a rest; her mouth drops to your jaw, embracing your skin there before moving down to your neck.

She doesn't realize how dangerous the game she's playing truly is until it's almost too late.

Her lips press to the area just above your pulsepoint, where she's learned over the years that blood pumps the hardest and tastes the sweetest. She draws it into her mouth, swirling her tongue over the area as her ears perk up at the breathless sound of your moans. They spur her on, and she nips at the skin, surely leaving a hickey.

Her senses become even more clouded when you say her name, the title caught somewhere between a whine and command, and she feels the strong impulse to claim you. The sensation is overwhelming, and she knows you can feel it too.

Your hands tug on the collar of her shirt as she lets her fangs fully extend, no longer suppressing them. They rake across your pulsepoint, making you shiver against her.

"Please…"

That's all you manage to get out before they pierce your skin, eliciting a whimper from you. Blood fills her mouth instantly, sliding across her taste buds in velvety waves and calming her constant craving. Your hands tighten in her hair, and the delicious twinge of pain that it provides only encourages her more.

Your blood is different than anything she's ever tasted; it's richer -- sweeter. A throaty groan leaves her as she savors it, and you shut your eyes in pleasure. It's addicting, but she knows she has to stop herself before she hurts you. If she continues like this much longer, she won't have the willpower to let go.

She retracts her fangs as she licks your taste from them, and then you feel her warm tongue clean the wound she made. It stings a bit, but in all the right ways.

When she pulls back to look at you, she finds your eyes half-lidded and a pleased smile on your face. It nearly kills her, then and there.

Her gaze flickers back to your neck to admire the hickie she made earlier, but what she sees surprises her. Below it is a darker, more prominent marking that she's only seen other vampires leave behind before.

Definitely not a hickie.

Your brows furrow as you look at her neck as well, noticing a faint outline of something growing darker by the second. Blinking a few times to ensure that you aren't hallucinating, you find that it's really there.

"Lisa, what's on your neck?" You ask.

"A soulmate mark." She responds, feeling a sense of belonging settle over her as she looks at you again. You just confirmed her suspicions by asking that.

"Same as yours," she smiles.

312 notes · View notes

theperfectlovestory · 3 years

Text

You Are My Home

I DON'T OWN THE PICTURE

Information: This will probably have multiple parts but stand alone (?) I'm a bit nervous to post this cause this is a more personal uhh imagines 😂

Summary: It's been a long time since your friends saw you, a lot has change and you are in a better place in your life. Specially the relationship part

Pairings: Elizabeth Olsen x Reader

Theme: fluff

TW: none (?)

Word Count: 2,241

"Hey guys" you greeted, giving a small smile to your friends. It's been a long time since you all had the chance to talk together

Everyone has been busy and since you left your original city 2 years ago, the best you can do is chat with them once in a while

You are confident that the relationship with them is strong but you are sure many things have changed. But change is good, specially since you left with heavy heart and full of uncertainty

Right now you are in a good position in your life, and everyone is free, or at least made sure to make time. But still, the best you can do is video call for now

After 2 years this is the first time you've seen everyone. While they keep in touch and get together once in a while. You just were too far, both physically and mentally

"Hey, long time no see" Steve teased and you chuckled

"Damn you look good" Natasha commented "been taking care of yourself, I see"

You made a face and nodded "happy now I finally hit the gym like you always nag me to?" She chuckled

"Hey, just want you healthy"

"I know, thank you. Your voice is actually what pushed me in training" you leaned on the table, placing your cheeks on your knuckles "I can just hear you berating me for being so weak"

Everyone chuckled, agreeing that she does do that

"But in all seriousness, you look happy" Bucky complimented

Sighing, you nodded, finally at the position in your life where you can actually see yourself having a bright future

"I am, finally got my shit together, mostly at least"

The topic then transferred to your other friends, enjoying their presence even just from the screen. Laughing together just like the old times

"(Y/n)?" You turn your head to the voice, your girlfriend, Elizabeth calling for you coming from the second floor

"Darling, I'm in the dining" you answered and immediately heard footsteps

Without looking at the screen of your laptop, she smiled, excitedly tilt your head by your chin, kissing you deeply

Every one of your friends are stunned. Of course, you never showed them any public display, not like you had the chance anyway since you never really pursued anyone for years you were with them and now here you are kissing Elizabeth Olsen

Very famous actress, part of big filming companies, a producer as well

"Damn (Y/n)..." Natasha whispered and you laughed when Lizzie finally realized you were actually on a video call

"Oh no, sorry baby" she said wiping your mouth and hers with her sleeves, you shake your head to stop her

"You're fine, or not. But Lizzie, meet my friends" you gestured on the screen and Lizzie shyly waved at them. Blush dusting her cheeks as she pursed her lips into a decent smile. Your taste still lingering on her mouth

They said a quick hi to be polite then suddenly spoke all at once berating you for not telling them you are dating "the Elizabeth Olsen". The actress, the girl of your dreams

Then it was your turn to blush when Bucky mentioned that she's the reason you never had any interest in other people. She was just too 'shiny' to you, the other just seemed dull

Elizabeth looked at you with new found love in her eyes as you got bullied by your friends. She can't help but give you a quick kiss on the cheek before apologizing for interrupting your moment with them again

"Oh no, you did not interrupt at all. We probably wouldn't even know she's dating if you didn't come" Tony said and everyone told him to shut up

"It's not like how it sounds, Ms. Olsen. (Y/n) is very proud of you, she just really doesn't like speaking about her relationships" Peter explained and Elizabeth chuckled

"Oh I know, that's why we are not in public anyway" she patted your head "but it's okay. I don't want to drag her in the mess of Hollywood so if you can just keep all this between us" she gave everyone a small smile and they either shrugged or nodded

"No problem" Natasha answered "I'll make sure these idiots don't slip up"

Elizabeth gave them a big smile before she left to get breakfast. Once she is gone though they started attacking you with questions again

"Fine fine" you sighed, finally giving up "we met a few months after I left, I applied to the Marvel Studio as set decorator. I was fixing up the set the night before with a bunch of my coworkers so the shooting will proceed with ease. I'm usually just there at night so when she came looking for her phone, which I actually picked up and was planning to give to the lost and found before leaving, they pointed her to me. I gave it to her, she thanked me and that was it'' you shrugged

"Then how did you two got together"

Pursing your lips, knowing they wouldn't stop anyway you told them

It was the wrap up of the filming for Endgame. The biggest movie you will ever work with if you are honest

A bunch of A-listers are there and a lot of demands have to be met so for the first time, the whole movie you had to be in and out of the sets. You barely slept or ate in the past few months. You apartment even collected dust since all you did there is go home, take a shower, then go out

You mostly slept on set. By the end of the filming your body is screaming for rest. But you kept going anyway. This project is a very big deal for you, specially you lead the look of the set. anything that needs to be changed, moved, removed, added to the set goes through you

So basically, all day you stand in front of the set, watching the designers work their magics and you requesting changes, assessing the atmosphere in pre production and etc. and at night, clean up and set up is a bitch

One morning you were so tired you wanted to pass out there and then when Elizabeth enter the area. She was shooting all her parts today that can be soloed

You tried to keep yourself awake and alert to anything and everything so when you noticed an uneven ramp and props that she will unfortunately stepped on, your body started running before your mind can comprehend what's happening

She let out a squeal when she broke her ankle and fall but before she hit the ground and risk further injuries on her wrist that is sure to break her fall, you were catching her

But your body felt so weak that instead of staying up right, she fell on you. At least she wasn't hurt at any part of her body but you were, you hit your head on impact but it was minor

If ever, it only made you dizzy

She stood up and you did as well. You rubbed your hand on your face, ordering staffs to re-arrange and clean up the set so no more obstacle can cause accidents

You didn't even dare look at her eyes knowing those green orbs will suck your life out of you. You asked her if she's okay, also apologizing for the dangerous set up. It was overlooked that she would be indeed walking in heels, boots but heels nevertheless

"It's fine, I'm fine" she said, smiling but her eyes are full of worry "are you though? You hit your head when you broke my fall" she said, even unconsciously touching it

"Uh yeah..." you awkwardly smiled at her "it doesn't hurt, thanks" you then slowly back away. When the props have been arrange, the shooting started but your body felt so weak you had to call your assistant to cover for you

You went to the area where you always rested and slept. You were out for almost 2 hours when a cough woke you up. You sat up, rubbing your eyes and ask what they need without even looking at them

"I...brought you food, and coffee" your head snapped, looking at the voice you only dream of talking . She had a small and awkward smile and shy look in her eyes directed to you

"I was looking for you where you usually stand but noticed you weren't there" she explained, your face obviously gave your confusion away "I wanted to thank you again, the stunt director said that if it weren't for you, I would most likely break my wrist in that fall"

You slowly nodded, giving her a small smile "well, it was our fault for not triple checking the set"

"No no, please don't do that, accidents happen, I'm just here to thank you. It was me being clumsy too" You look at her with newfound admiration, a firm believer of 'never meet your idol, it will disappoint you'. But it wasn't the case with her at all

You are aware of the rumors that she's actually very kind, down to earth and serious with her job. It's a good rumor considering she is well known and if you are honest, you know deep in your heart it is true, but you never get your hopes up high

If only you met in a different circumstance, maybe you would think of trying to flirt a little but you know your place. This is a work situation and you need to be as professional as you can be. She is still an actress after all, you need to respect her space

It doesn't mean that she is being kind to you, it's an invitation to step into that space of hers. So you muster the most professional smile you can

"Well thanks, it's really no problem" you said with indifference and if you are actually not too much in your head, you will see her frown with the change of tone

She then handed you the food and the coffee "I'd actually like to talk more again sometimes" she said, swallowing the tightness in her throat "maybe for a coffee?"

The invitation did wonders in your body. Your heart is just beating a tad bit faster, your stomach filled with butterflies, your cheeks turning red. All the cliché reactions you can feel, it's there but then you moved and you groaned, your body sore from over work

You were so sure you wanted to say yes, but your body clearly wanted to say no. After this shooting, you just want to drop dead in your apartment and maybe wake up 3 months after

"I'm just so tired recently, I will be no fun" you chuckled, exhaustion dripping on every syllable "but hey, maybe a few weeks after the filming is done, if you are still up for it?"

The sadness of rejection from earlier was turned into a big grin. Her excitement sparkled on her eyes "sure, I'd give you my number then"

You nodded and gave her your phone. She didn't even have to ask for a password because you never put one in. It's easier since you give your phone to your assistants all the time to contact people for updates on props shipments and other business related matter

She excitedly tapped her number, saving it as 'Scarlet Witch' and that made you giggle. Using her screen name that's not even canon yet

"Okay, Scarlet Witch, I'll call you when I finally get some well deserve hibernation, then maybe I'll be more fun to talk to than a usual" She laughed and nodded and you are so sure you can never be more in love with her voice

She then said a few more things before leaving you to rest. You thanked her again for the food and coffee before she disappeared

"I can't believe you almost rejected her" Steve said wide eyed "she's like, your dream woman"

"Oh I can" Natasha said "(Y/n) doesn't hit uncertain, have you ever played with her on anything? All her hits are aces!"

"But it's like the chance of a lifetime!"

"Yeah! That's why you make sure you attack when you know it will hit!"

The two started bickering and you all just watched, laughing at their same old antics. Elizabeth then walk to your side, offering you a fruit bowl for breakfast, you thanked her and then invited her to seat besides you and she did, you kissed her off camera

"What was that?" She chuckled but tried to catch your lips again when you pulled away, you giggled at her pouty face

"Nothing, just suddenly can't believe I'm actually dating you" she sighed, giving you a small smile

"You might think that you're the lucky one but it's actually me" she said, pressing a hand on your cheeks and squeezing it lightly "you make my life whole, (Y/n), you filled the space in my heart where money or popularity cannot"

"And you picked up and fixed my broken pieces" you countered, leaning on her hand that's now just slowly rubbing your cheeks

"I guess we are both lucky then"

"Yeah"

Your eyes both glint the same way. Feeling like you finally found where you belong, in each other. You are home

#elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff #imagine #domestic

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spencersawkward · 3 years

Text

switchblade faith//spencer reid - chapter 9

summary: one month after joining the BAU, Clea is still settling in. between solving murders and getting acclimated to DC, the only comfortable thing in her life is her new friendship with Dr. Spencer Reid. (Baby Spence)

pairing: Fem!OC x Spencer

word count: 4.1k

content warnings: tattooing/tattoo aftercare, mostly fluffy!

A/N: hi! it's been a while since i updated this series, but i love it too much to leave it behind and i'm also always going to be obsessed with sub!spence. anyway, all my tattoos are stick and pokes atm so if some of the tattoo stuff if a little off, i'm sorry!

masterlist

it's really a matter of principle that keeps me bound to the promise. if I were a weaker woman, I would back down from the chair, would have shaken my head and told JJ that no, actually, I will not be getting something permanently inked on my body purely for the fulfillment of a bet.

but with most of the team around me and a couple flutes of champagne flowing through my veins, I give in. it's going to be small, even though I'm not going to see it until it's done. Penelope and Morgan being in charge of the design scares me, though. I start to get nervous that I'm going to end up with a unicorn tramp stamp.

"where are you gonna get it?" Garcia nudges my shoulder once we get inside the tattoo parlor. her eyes are traveling over all the intense artwork, which I can already tell is very much not her style. the walls are covered in intricate prints from past customers.

I think to myself for a moment. if I'm being completely honest, there's one place I've been meaning to get a tattoo, but never have. it's easy to hide, which is good. as long as the design they choose isn't horrifically embarrassing, I'll do it.

"I'm thinking..." I pull the waistband of my jeans down a little until it's right below my hip bone. "there."

"sexy." she says suggestively. I laugh.

"depending on what you guys have decided to give me, yeah." I angle for a hint, but Penny isn't caving.

"are you ready?" Morgan asks, having returned from the front desk area, where he's been talking to the artist. I take a deep breath, peer around at the rest of the team. we look like an odd bunch in here, an assortment of ages all gathered in a dark tattoo parlor.

Spencer's watching me with a concerned expression and I realize that I've been staring around for a decent amount of time. he doesn't say anything, although I've noticed that he's got a certain face he makes right before he does-- and he's making it.

"Clea, are you sure you wanna do this? you don't have to." JJ touches my shoulder suddenly. I realize that they think I'm genuinely worried and I let out a laugh.

"yeah, I'm fine," I turn to Morgan. "lead the way, handsome."

the tattoo artist has me lie down while he preps all his tools, snaps on his gloves. everyone sees me on my stomach and Emily gasps.

"are you getting a tramp stamp?"

"what? no," I giggle. "I'm gonna get it here." I show them the spot I just showed Penelope, and Spencer raises his eyebrows. Prentiss whispers something in Morgan's ear and the suave agent smirks.

"you're gonna like this." Penny grins. I glance at the tattoo artist to see how he reacts to that statement, but he's got a good poker face, unfortunately.

"are you being serious or are am I gonna hate all of you?" I ask.

"maybe a bit of both?" Spencer says in a slightly higher pitch, looking pleased to be in on the joke. I stare at him in disbelief.

"he knows what I'm getting, too?" I point disdainfully. Morgan laughs at the attitude.

"I told him on the way here."

I shake my head slowly and turn my attention to the boy genius, who is hiding a proud smile. there's a boyish quality to it that makes me feel a little better. I have to pull the side of my pants down as I turn on my side for the artist, and a peek of my black underwear makes Prentiss let out a whistling noise. my cheeks turn pink.

"shut up."

"are you ready?" the tattoo guy asks me. it's only then that I notice we're close to actually getting this done. I have no idea what's going on my body-- but there's no time like the present, right?

"sure."

it's the buzzing of the machine when he finally touches the needle to my skin that surprises me more than the pain itself. I feel myself resist the urge to move away, but I'm still enough for him to keep working.

"how's it feel?" Emily asks.

"like getting a tattoo." I wince. Penelope softens, looking between her coworkers guiltily.

"oh no," she complains, then comes over to me and grabs my hand in hers. "is this better?"

I squeeze tightly at the stinging sensation across my thigh, but she doesn't pull away at all.

"yeah." I smile. everyone is watching me intently, so much so that it puts me off a bit. "can we talk about something, maybe? it doesn't help when you're all staring."

"sure," JJ grins. "so..."

the pressure to start a conversation kills any potential for one, and then Spencer clears his throat. "anybody wanna see a cool magic trick?"

I snort and the rest of the team lets out a chuckle as the genius pulls a deck of cards out of his pants pocket. Morgan pats his shoulder. "I hope it works this time."

"it worked last time!" Reid protests, but his cheeks have taken on a slightly rosy hue. I watch him shuffle the mysterious deck and do some fancy tricks that I've never seen before, the corner of his mouth quirking with a sudden air of confidence.

Penelope is still holding my hand, and I can feel the metal of her sparkly rings pressing against my fingers. I choose to focus on the theatrical movements that Spencer is definitely using on purpose instead of the strange, sharp pain.

he fans out the cards and shows them to me, smiling. "pick a card, any card."

"hmm..." I tap my chin thoughtfully and stare at the bright red designs covering the back. I wonder if it's a rigged deck, or if he actually knows tricks. he doesn't seem like the type of person to be into magic. but then again, Spencer is full of surprises. I grab a random one in the middle, pluck it out and memorize it. a red six of spades.

"alright, then..." he grins and slams the deck back into one neat pile, then does some weird shuffling move again and shows the fanned-out deck to Morgan this time. "your turn."

Morgan's gaze flickers between the cards and Reid's face, which is trying to suppress a smile. the dimple on the right side of his cheek twitches once. when Derek taps a card near the end, Spencer nods and does the same thing that he did when I picked one.

except this time, as soon as he's got the whole deck together, he taps them a bit too hard and they go flying. fifty-two-pick-up style, Queens and Kings and Jokers tumbling to the linoleum floor in a defeated descent. my eyes widen and second-hand embarrassment rolls in, followed by the team's stunned silence.

I even feel the tattoo artist falter a bit in his work.

"oh." Spencer says. JJ puts her hand on his shoulder.

"Spence, it's fine."

"no, no, it's not-- I practiced this, like, fifty times last night--" his face is bright red as he drops to his knees. Penelope glances once at you and you return her stare with a pitying expression. Emily goes to help him, then Morgan and JJ.

"let me just..." he gathers up the remaining cards that they hand him, putting them back together into the pile again. I watch as he goes through them, somehow counting at lightning speed before frowning. "we're missing one."

everyone looks around, but it's obvious that there aren't any more stray cards lying about. I feel bad for him, not only because it didn't work but because he practiced it so much. I've been wondering what he does on the weekends-- magic tricks never even crossed my mind.

then Spencer's face lights up.

he comes over to me and gestures to my side, right by the spot where the tattoo artist is working. "may I?"

"uh--" I glance down at where he's pointing, the small patch of bare stomach. "sure?"

his fingertips graze beneath my tummy, between my skin and the smooth leather of the tattoo table, and snatch a card out from under me. it's barely a touch, but my breath hitches in my throat. my fingers tighten just slightly around Penelope's.

he holds up a red six of spades. the enormous grin on his face gives him away. "this wouldn't happen to be your card, would it?"

I gasp and nod, amazement on my face before it's wiped away by the sharp pain of the needle. Spencer displays the red six of spades to the whole team, then basks in their surprised applause.

Emily's smiling in disbelief. "you really had us going for a second."

"wait, wait--" I poke his leg and Spencer turns to me. "how did you do that?"

there's no way he could have hidden it there without me knowing; if he had slipped a card beneath my bare skin, surely I would have felt it. but the magic man just shrugs and shakes his head at me.

"a good magician never shares their secrets, Clea."

this time, the blush spreads over my cheeks. he's cocky right now, and I'd be lying if I said I'm not enjoying it. he's in his element, I realize, even if it is an unexpected one. and as he puts the cards into his back pocket, the group erupts with questions.

he's done magic before in front of them, but they seem to be awestruck by his performance this time. admittedly, I think the whole klutz act really added a nice dramatic element to it.

I'm mostly quiet for the rest of the tattooing process, although everyone else is chattering about the trick and how well the ink is going to turn out. I'm still wracking my brain for ideas of what they chose, but I honestly don't know. I've been banned from peeking.

maybe this was a mistake-- I've only recently joined this team, and already allowed them to decide what's going to be on my body forever. at least it's small. and maybe I'll actually like it; who knows?

when the artist lets out a satisfied sigh and turns the needle off, however, I find myself twisting around and staring frantically at the new design.

"oh my god."

it's a tiny airplane, with two dotted loopty-loops behind it. just small enough to be adorable.

"what do you think?" Garcia asks, eyeing it herself. they all gather around to admire the new design that sits on the outside of my upper thigh. I giggle.

"I love it."

"don't sound so relieved." Emily laughs. I can't help the bubbly excitement in my stomach.

"sorry, I just didn't know what to expect."

Spencer is staring at the ink when he turns to the tattoo artist. "how long until you think it'll be healed?"

the guy stands up to get treatment stuff for it. "I'd say about two weeks, but it varies from person to person." he leaves to grab cling film.

"I thought for sure you'd be the one to know that." I smirk at the genius. he shoves his hands in his pockets, makes sure the artist is out of earshot, and then looks back at you.

"I do know." he scoffs.

"uh huh." I laugh.

"actually, for the record," he lowers his voice. "I'd recommend at least three weeks instead of two. the last thing you want is infected flesh."

"yum, Spencer. thanks for that image." I smile with wide eyes and he shrugs.

...

it's quiet when I shut the door of my apartment shut behind me. I've got a bag full of supplies with me to clean the new art, and I'm feeling lethargic after getting lunch with the team. because Rossi wasn't around to foot the bill, I made the mistake of offering to pay.

we've got the day off after the most recent slew of cases, so I've determined to spend the rest of my day well. I could curl up with a nice documentary, or I could scrub my kitchen and do a little tidying up around here. god knows the film of dust on my bookshelves needs to be wiped away.

oh my god.

am I boring? maybe. possibly.

I shake the thought from my head and bring my things into the kitchen to organize. after spending a few hours cleaning up, I go out grocery shopping, then come home to sit down with a book. my errands take up so much time, I don't even notice the DC sunlight sinking beneath the harsh lines of the city, drenching my apartment in a silky darkness poked through with lit lamps.

it's already 9pm and I kind of want to hang out with someone, but I doubt any of the team wants to spend any more time with me than they did before lunch. or they might have plans with their families.

well, I know one person who definitely doesn't have plans.

I pull out my phone and hit Spencer's contact before I can talk myself out of it, knowing full well that it's not a big deal but still becoming a little nervous. it rings three times before he picks up.

"hello?"

"hey, Spencer."

"Clea. what's-- what's up?" he sounds more confused than anything. probably because I just saw him about an hour ago.

"I know it's late, but do you wanna come over? I'm bored and I feel like you know more about tattoo cleaning than I do." it's a weak excuse.

"why would I know more about tattoo cleaning--"

"you know damn well why, Reid," I laugh. "don't fish for compliments."

there's a slight laugh on the other end of the line before he replies. "I'll be over soon."

I wait patiently, preparing two mugs of coffee in the meantime. I'm sure we'll both want the caffeine, because I have no urge to turn in early tonight. my stomach twists a bit when he calls to tell me he's here, and I go to let him in. I'm not nervous.

except I actually am a little bit nervous when I open the door and there's Spencer with a shy smile and a coat that's a bit too big for him. it hangs off his narrow frame, and I realize that it must have just started raining. his hair is wet and there are dark spots on his clothes where the water has seeped through.

"get inside, my god." I move aside so he can come into the apartment and warm up. he walks in, looks around at my walls. I realize that he's never been here before. "welcome to my humble abode, Dr. Reid."

"it's nice." he compliments without much emotion. I lock the door and turn just in time to see his hand shaking at his side.

"thanks. let me take your coat." I glance out the window, where I now notice the rain pelting the glass.

Spencer shrugs off his jacket and hesitantly lets me hang it on the hook by the door before turning to him with my hands on my hips. "so, how are you?"

"I'm good," he smiles a little and runs a hand through his hair. "I actually read an article on the way here about those psychedelic mushrooms we were discussing the other day."

"is that, like, our thing, now?" I joke and gesture to the couch, where two mugs of hot coffee rest on coasters. he sits down gingerly on the cushions, sitting at the very opposite end of the couch from me.

"I can send it to you, if you'd like." he smiles.

"please do. I've been hoping for some titillating reading, recently." I hand him the mug and he stop before taking a sip.

"how many sugars did you put in this?"

"relax, genius, I'm not out to get you--" I catch his eye. "yet."

he giggles and takes a sip, then another. the smile tugging at my lips is too obvious for my liking; I'm just glad that I got the amount of sugar correct. it would have been funny to ambush him with a sweetness attack, although I think making him come here in the rain was punishment enough.

"have you ever had oat milk?" he asks out of the blue. I frown.

"yeah, why?"

"just wondering. I'm lactose intolerant and was considering trying it."

"you're lactose intolerant?"

"mhmm." he nods enthusiastically.

"I watched you eat three yogurt cups in a row yesterday." I chuckle at the memory of it. he eats so much and remains as skinny as a telephone pole.

"I love dairy." he shrugs it off. I pull my legs up beneath me on the couch and give him a serious expression.

"well, personally, I think oat milk tastes horrendous and it makes me want to vomit, but you should try it."

"noted."

we start to talk about various nondairy alternatives for coffee and it ends up being a surprisingly fun conversation. talking to Spencer has its own charm-- it's not just a conversation, it's a fully immersive experience. from his ambitious vocabulary to the unconscious gestures he makes, all of it keeps me hooked.

I rest my cheek on my palm, elbow leaning against the back of the couch while I nod along to him talking about almond farming. he's got a disdainful expression on his face as he brings up its environmental consequences, punctuating every few sentences with another sip of his coffee.

the rain is still pouring outside. thunder occasionally rolls over the sky and shakes the windows in their panes. my eyes flit from his face to the view when a flash of lightning catches my attention.

"--sorry, we should clean your tattoo." he seems to catch himself mid-thought, realizing that he came here to help me and not just rant about the business of almonds. I smile.

"no worries. this stuff is interesting to me, too."

"there's this documentary out now about it, too, that I've been meaning to watch."

"really?"

"yeah!" his face lights up. "if you want, we can--" he clears his throat. "we can watch it together."

he blushes as he says it, and I can tell that he's worried about how his intentions will come off. he can't take it back, so he runs the pad of his index over his middle finger and fidgets in a subtle way.

"that sounds like fun." I don't want him to feel weird. we've only hung out a few times, and I'm sort of looking forward to it.

"great," he straightens and adjusts his shirt, which has gotten slightly rumpled from his curling up on the couch. his tie is crooked, too. "where are the cleaning supplies?"

"in the kitchen."

"perfect, we should be doing it in there anyway." he stands, pushes a bit of his hair behind his ear while he waits for me to follow-- and I do, albeit with a wince from my tender side. it doesn't hurt as much as I expected.

he follows me into the minuscule kitchen and doesn't hesitate to start going through the things the artist gave me to take home. there's some foam wash and special moisturizer for it, not a lot. it's small enough that the care will be minimal, which is reassuring.

it's only when Spencer's washing his hands that I realize I'll need to unbutton my pants again in order to reach the tattoo. which means this is about to get at least slightly awkward for the both of us.

he turns around just in time to see me unzipping my jeans and his eyes widen.

"how else do you expect to clean it?" I laugh, and he gulps, visibly. his Adam's apple bobs in his throat and he nods in understanding.

"y-yeah, of course." his eyes are everywhere but on me. suddenly, my kitchen walls are incredibly interesting.

I shove down the waistband of my pants until they're just below my upper thigh, then I sit up on the counter and clear my throat. "I can cover some of myself if that makes you more comfortable."

"no, no, that's okay--" he speaks too quickly, then recognizes his mistake. "it's okay. this shouldn't take very long, anyway."

without another word, I shrug and watch him delicately peel away the film. his fingertips are back to barely touching my skin, just like when he pulled that card out from beneath me, and I stop breathing for a moment.

there's also a gel-like substance under the covering, which he tells me is just standard petroleum jelly. Spencer moves with a near surgical (and altogether unnecessary) precision. his eyes are glued to my skin as if forcing them not to stray to my now exposed panties. it doesn't feel sexual at all because it's not, thankfully.

when he uses the foam wash and begins to rub it into my skin, he frowns with concern and looks up at me. "is this okay? you can do it yourself if--"

"it's fine, Reid," I answer too quickly this time. heat rushes to my cheeks. "I honestly thought this was going to be a more complicated process than it really is."

"it's pretty simple, especially for something this small." he shrugs. "obviously, you don't want to get it infected, so I'd just think of it as treating a cut."

silence in our respective positions at the moment makes me nervous, so I change the subject.

"magic tricks, huh?" if anything, I need to distract myself from the way his hand is rubbing over my skin in a totally nonsexual and platonic way.

he relaxes a little, lifting his gaze to mine with a somewhat pleased countenance. "yeah, I love magic."

it's like peeling back a corner of wallpaper and seeing a shade of red beneath; not a lot, but enough to pique my curiosity. "a man of science?"

Spencer shakes his head at the air of faux sophistication I pour into it. "the world needs some wonder."

he says it in an offhand way, although I feel the weight of it from the way he runs a damp paper towel over the last of the cleansing foam. his touch presses into me and his eyes are lowered in a slightly distant way.

"how long have you been into it?" I fight the urge to ask a million questions at once.

"since I was a kid," he jerks back to attention. the grin on his face tells you just how special this is to him. "I used to buy all the books and practice for my mom constantly."

"did you ever do the trick with the never-ending string of handkerchiefs?" I recall one of the only classic moves I know. Reid laughs.

"that one's easy."

"what about the coin behind the ear?" I throw out another one.

Spencer straightens, doesn't even bother to set down the paper towel, before reaching up behind my ear and pulling away with a shiny quarter set between his thumb and forefinger. "you mean this one?"

there it is again, that confidence I saw in the tattoo parlor. he's standing just close enough for me to notice, and I grin as I snatch the metal out of his hand and set it on the counter beside me. "thanks."

"no problem." he laughs.

"you should do that more often."

"the coin trick? I'd go broke." he jokes. I laugh at the rare appearance of Spencer's playful side, hoping to get a bit more of it before we have to go back to being serious at work.

"magic in general, I mean. I think it would brighten up the office a bit."

he thinks about it for a moment, washing his hands again. the sound of the faucet reminds me to put my lotion on my leg. I get to it while he thinks of what to say.

"yeah, maybe you're right."

"I still find it funny that you're into that kind of stuff." I say honestly. of all the things for him to nerd out about, this feels almost comically unexpected. but Reid only gives me a shy smile before replying.

"it always made my mom laugh when I was a kid."

"is she also good at it?"

"tricks? no," he chuckles. there's a washcloth between his long, slender fingers that he's been using to dry them for the past two minutes. at this point, I think he's doing it to keep from fidgeting. "she says it's an old fashioned thing, and that only made me wanna do it more."

"well," I cap the bottle and set it down on the counter, pull my jeans up and lean against the counter with a smile. "I like old fashioned."

Spencer gives a friendly smile. "me too."

taglist (add yourself here or message me to be added/removed!): @reidsconverse @donald4spiderman @awritingtree @gingeraleluke @bewitchedbibliophile @multixfandomwriter @xoxomgg

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crystalas · 3 years

Text

Hind Sight

This is both inspired and a sort of prequel to Starfics’ answer to my prompt, I loved the idea of it so much that I started a Demon Bull Divorce AU, have fun!

Hindsight

Like a lot of things in hindsight MK could see that this was a very dumb idea.

It was a spur of the moment idea that came to him and Mei as they saw Red Son in the garage with his signature jacket hanging up because said fire demon was currently up to his elbows in tuk-tuk engine bits.

Red Son had just shown up at the noodle store one day declaring that he was there to ‘pay off his father’s debt’ after the whole lunar new year event. Everyone was a bit suspicious at first but Mei and MK decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, after all they knew he wasn’t all evil. True to his word he helped out with fixing stuff and had offered to upgrade the Tuk-tuk, after a few weeks they had managed to convince him to hang out with them after work as well.

That day MK had figured out how to shrink himself and after showing Mei she grinned and suggested they surprise Red Son with it.

Which was the aforementioned very dumb idea.

Said idea was for MK to shrink himself and then have Mei put him in Red Son’s jacket pocket, and when Red Son put it back on, have Mei ask the fire demon if he has seen MK and when he said no ask him to check his pockets…boom! Itty MK!

So, the joke was set, a shrunk MK in place and Mei was now walking up to Red Son as he clambered out of the Tuk-Tuk’s mechanical guts wiping away the grease from his hands.

“Hey Red boy” she beamed.

“Hey dragon horse girl” he said back as he got up.

“Have you seen MK?”

“No but I need to show him how to operate the upgrades…” he began but stopped when he looked at the clock on the garage wall, his smile dissolved into mild panic.

“Is that the time?!” he yelped and rushed past Mei grabbing his coat, igniting his hands to burn off all the grease and oil that had clung to him still and began to make a move for the door. “I’m sorry I need to get home tonight, tell Noodle boy I’ll show him tomorrow, okay?” Red Son yammered quickly.

“Red wait!” Mei cried as he vanished into a swirl of fire.

“Did you check your pockets?” she whimpered sheepishly.

MK felt like he was in a weird fair ground ride, cushioned in fabric and being swung around like on a rollercoaster; it was kind of fun. Not to mention he found a wrapped candy in here and at his current size it was as big as a pillow! He could hear Mei and Red Son talking and waited for his que but then things got very bumpy and then felt very hot and weird for a second as he felt his whole body move in a way that shouldn’t be possible for him before the background ambience of the city suddenly died into a hushed sound of far-off clanking and whirring.

He poked his head out of the pocket to see he was now in an old Chinese style mansion but it was underground and hewn from the rock itself, the walls were adorned with demon Bull family heirlooms and pictures all showing the grand history of the conquering demon clan. MK could hear Red Son muttering to himself.

“I’ve got enough time to check on the projects and get in my best clothes…did I remember to check the repair schedule for the clones?”

MK was about to poke out of the pocket and announce himself when Red Son stopped by a large door that seemed to lead to a main hall, he seemed to hesitate near the entrance as MK and no doubt Red Son could hear angry raised voices.

“How is it I was the one stuck under a mountain but you are the one stuck in the past?” Demon Bull King demanded.

“I am thinking of our legacy and heritage, things you seem keen to throw away!” Princess Iron Fan retorted.

“Our pursuit of power has only brought us trouble!” came the angry reply “We need to move with the times!”

“Listen to you!” Princess Iron Fan screeched “You sound that useless son of ours!”

MK poked out of the pocket and looked up at Red Son who looked forlorn but not surprised as he carried on past the door his shoulders hunched over as he hurried through. Red Son came to a kitchen that seemed big enough to feed a whole court full of people but it was sadly empty and hollow except for one corner where a bull clone was currently working at a stove top. It saw Red Son and bowed respectively.

“I don’t think family meal time will be happening tonight” Red Son declared “so I will be taking my evening meal in my room…again…” the bull clone nodded and got back to preparing said meal. Red Son continued walking through the vacant halls as the vicious shouting ebbed away to quiet muffled sounds. He came to his room and sat at his desk; MK looked around to see his room unlike the rest of the castle had a bit of life to it. There were posters of car designs and movie mechs adorning the walls, a work table filled with small cabinets of tools and gear and what looked to be a shelf filled with scrolls and old tomes. MK had wondered why someone as tidy as Red Son would have what looked to be an arranged pile of tinfoil and fabric in a corner of his room before he realised that must his bed. He remembered Pigsy saying how some demons prefer nests to human style beds.

Okay I really need to show myself before things get even more awkward MK decided and he started to climb out but froze when he heard the door open, Red Son turned to see his mother glaring at him and MK quickly dived back into the safety concealment of the jacket.

“You’ve ruined him” she hissed, and MK could feel Red Son flinch. “Your father was a proud mighty demon King who conquered whole armies alone and made the heavens fear him and now looked at what you have done!”

“Isn’t this better?” Red Son said quietly “I mean…this way we won’t have to worry about him being hurt or sealed… aah!” came the pain gasped as MK could hear a very sharp and painful smack, MK grabbed the fabric of the pocket as Red Son’s whole body violently jerked to the side.

“Be quiet you worthless whelp!” she snarled “I kept our family name safe and proud for centuries and in one year you’ve weakened your father, the great Demon Bull King to the point that he wants to ‘settle down peacefully’!” she said the last bit dripping with venom and MK wished for Red Son to speak up or say something or at the very least move from where he was sitting but he didn’t.

“I’m sorry mother…” was all he managed after a moment of silence.

“Sorry doesn’t undo what you have done!” she spat and MK listened to the sound of her shoes moving away, “Sometimes I wish you had never returned!” she exclaimed coldly before shutting the door.

The fabric around him lurched as Red Son moved and he could feel energy pulse around him like the sky before lightning struck, it was only then did MK realised how dumb this idea really was. Red Son ignites into flames when upset or angry and it’s pretty obvious his clothes are fire proof to deal with that.

MK wasn’t fire proof…

MK made a mad scramble out of the pocket and leapt away just in time for a massive inferno engulfed where he had been hiding and everything else around it. He landed on the cold stone floor and patted himself down to make sure nothing was on fire and once he was sure he wasn’t smouldering he looked back up at the crackling fire ball that was his friend. Red Son still hadn’t moved from the desk but was now hunched over it his hands clawing into his fiery hair his eyes tightly shut but flames still leaked out and his whole body was shuddering as he tried to control his breathing.

MK decided that maybe he should give the fire demon with known anger issues some time to breathe and started to make his way to hide in the nest till he seemed to have calmed down but as he tiptoed his way across the room Red Son sensed the movement. The fire evaporating into the air as Red Son turned around and scanned the room, he glanced down to see a tiny MK in mid sneak.

Red Son looked at MK confused.

MK looked at Red Son worried.

There was a pregnant pause.

“Heh heh …Ta da!” MK said weakly and held out his hands as if to show off “Look what I can do now!”

“Noodle boy?” Red Son muttered quietly as his brain tried to fathom him being there before it clicked that he was and what that might imply. “How long have you been here?” he asked a look of dread falling on his face.

“Oh pssh!” MK tried to dismiss “Not long…no not long at all!”

“Noodle boy” Red Son growled, “How long?”

“… … …” MK struggled to come up with a decent excuse before sighing and returning to his full size, if they were going to have this talk he wanted to be able to look him in face. “Since you made a mad dash out of the garage…”

Red Son gave a groan and covered his face before returning to slump on the desk.

“I know this is going to sound dumb but is everything ok?” MK inquired, “I don’t know how demon families work but that…didn’t sound good.”

“Everything’s fine Noodle boy!” Red Son declared sharply, “My parents are just…going through a rough patch, that is all!”

“A rough patch huh?” MK muttered before walking over to the desk and lightly touching Red Son’s face where the red mark showing where his mother had slapped him was now fading away. How many times had that happened and no one knew thanks to demon healing powers? Red Son batted his hand away and snarled angrily.

“Yes!” he snapped and glared at his desk.

Things were clicking into place in MK’s mind, in hind sight he should have wondered why Red Son showed up out of the blue and wanted to pay off some demon debt, why he had wanted to stay around them as long as possible and even agreed to hang out in the evenings and only on certain days [apparently for family meal times] would he actually go home before anyone else.

MK remembered in the first week of Red Son coming over, Pigsy finally gave in and let Red Son help by telling him to try and get his old tricky stove working again. Red Son had not only fixed it but cleaned it up and gave it a full work through and when he was finished the thing looked and worked as if brand new. Pigsy in his joy of getting his stove back to its prime for free patted Red Son on the back and declared he had paid back the debt in spades.

MK had wondered that day why Red Son had looked so upset but had dismissed it when a moment later the fire demon had gone on a tirade about how insulting it was that Pigsy thought his father’s life was worth only an afternoon of labour.

Maybe Pigsy and Tang had cottoned on a lot sooner than he had because after that they would always find little things for Red Son to do to ‘pay back the debt’.

“Red Son” Mk said as these thoughts mulled in his mind “Was there even a debt to pay off?”

Red Son turned to face him, he fidgeted with his hands for a few moments before sighing.

“I…I…I thought you would be more at ease if you thought that I was honoured bound to behave…”

“Why didn’t you just say something?”

“Like what?!” Red Son retorted “Please may I come over here because I rather spend my days with my enemies rather than my parents because they’re constantly fighting and I can’t do anything to fix it?!” Red Son jaw snapped shut and his hair flared up angrily. “Because they don’t! Fight all the time…I mean…” he exclaimed as he tried to back pedal out of the conversation.

MK watched Red Son and felt a wave of pity come over for him, it was like looking into a mirror of seven years ago. He could almost feel the emotions Red Son must be going through right now, the uncertainty of what was going to happen next, the guilt of not being able to stop it, that gnawing anxiety of thinking if he was to blame somehow. And that horrible cold fear of knowing that sooner or later one of them will be coming up to take their frustration out on someone who won’t fight back…

He thanked the gods regularly that he was fortunate enough that it was Pigsy that caught him dump diving behind his store, how different would his life had been if Pigsy and Tang hadn’t taken him in? He probably had starved to death on the streets that winter.

“Everything was supposed to get better when Father came back…” Red Son muttered to himself but was jolted back into the room as MK put his hands on his shoulders.

“Your parents are going through some stuff right now, so do you want to hang out at my place while they work it out?”

“What?” Red Son spluttered.

“Maybe they just need some space I dunno” MK said, “but what your mom did was not okay, and I’m worried about you”

“Why?”

“Because we’re friends you dummy!” MK laughed “and friends help each other even without demon debts to pay!”

Red Son stood up and pulled out a duffle bag from his wardrobe, he started to fill it with clothes, a stuff bull toy that looked to be antique and over-night necessities.

“You seem to have experience with this sort of thing” Red Son ventured quietly as MK helped him put his tools away in a box for travel.

“Let’s just say I’ve been where you are” MK said softly.

“In your experienced opinion…will me not being here helped my parents to reconcile?”

MK swallowed a hard lump in his throat, he didn’t know if it helped with his parents because he ran away from home and as far as he knows they never came looking for him. Mk was on the streets for three weeks before that fated night at Pigsy’s and it’s been seven years since then and he’s only ever caught a glimpse of them while during his deliveries on the streets.

“Sure, they will” MK answered with a smile “I hope so!”

Red Son left a note telling his parents exactly where he was and how to contact him before they left.

MK wasn’t all that surprised when after explaining the situation Pigsy happen to have a spare fold out bed in the store room.

#monkie kid red son #monkie kid mk #demon bull divorce AU #red son

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moldisgoodforyou · 3 years

Text

the exes

lmfao guys i finally checked my taglist form and i've been missing a lot of you sorry :///

warnings: men that might remind you of your ex, brief mentions of sexual content

wordcount: 2.4k we're back to shorter fics unless you guys want to start waiting a month in between them

_______

“I love you, Sophie,” he’d said, and then looked at her expectantly.

She was surprised when she heard herself echoing her first boyfriend, Peter, with an “I love you too,” even though she wasn’t sure she meant it. Her parents always said they fell in love after only two weeks, so Peter waiting two whole months to tell her was a logical next step.

Right?

Peter went to the Columbus College of Art and Design, and they’d met through a dating app after Sophie figured she didn’t want to have to meet another boy that was halfway drunk and put his hands on her waist when he shuffled past her in the dirty college bar. So she settled for the first nice boy she met, that looked halfway decent and kissed halfway decent too. He was two years older, twenty while she was eighteen, and always bragged to his friends about how mature she was, how smart she was for her age.

Her father hated him, but Sophie just figured it was because he was her first real boyfriend. Carter especially hated him, making a clear effort to ignore him and turn a cold shoulder when he’d pick Sophie up from the dorms and take her out to dinner, or on the few mornings he had to pick her up from Peter’s house when Peter would complain he was too hungover to drive the eleven minutes to campus to bring her home.

She quickly learned that I love you wasn’t necessarily love, it was more like an obligation. When she really was too busy with architecture homework, or she had a sorority meeting, he’d ask her to come over with a pleading “c’mon, but I love you,” and she’d huff to herself but pack up her things and go to his apartment for a couple hours. She’d hang out with him just long enough to placate him, then trudge back to her house, work on homework until three am, wake up exhausted, repeat.

She went out with him to the bars, more often than she liked, and he’d get way drunker than her every time. Sophie would sigh and drag him home, then make sure he was well enough to attend church the next day. She went once and was reminded of how her childhood was spent in church, every Sunday in youth group, and hated that feeling. One of the girls in his youth group led a sermon about saving yourself for marriage, sending several pointed glances at Sophie, and she realized he’d probably confessed to them about how she let him touch her. (He didn’t know that she faked an orgasm so he’d quit rubbing what was basically her inner thigh.)

He was never mean, just...boring. Something she had to deal with. She found herself wanting more, playing with the idea of what it would be like to ask out the cute boy in her sociology class, but then she’d shake her head and remind herself she wasn’t a cheater. Besides, he wasn’t that terrible. He’d dote on her and call her princess (which she hated, but figured as far as pet names went, it could be worse).

When he posted photos with other girls on his Instagram story - at a party, in class, out to lunch - Sophie found herself not caring a little too much. She kept waiting for a hint of jealousy, and thought that sometimes he was waiting for it too, but it never came. Julia and Allie would see and question those stories, ask Sophie who those girls were, but she’d just get defensive and shrug it off. (He’s allowed to have other girl friends, she’d say. Even when the photo showed the girl’s head on his chest and arms around his waist and his arm around hers, his hand on her hip.)

When he called her in tears, after five months of dating, she knew what was coming.

“I kissed someone else.”

“Oh.” She paused, gathered her thoughts, then realized she had none. Felt completely neutral. “Okay.”

Peter sounded like he was at his breaking point. She didn’t care. “It’s been going on for a while.”

“Is it Andie?” Sophie asked, growing annoyed. Did they really need to drag the phone call out?

“Yeah.” He let out some ungodly sob and she found herself feeling disgusted, wanting to tell him to pull it together. Andie was cool, a girl she’d met a couple times at the few college parties she’d been to with Peter, where everyone sat around and smoked cigarettes and drank IPAs, and fit the stereotype of art students so damn well it wasn’t even funny. Andie wore Doc Martens and had a buzzcut and gave zero fucks - and clearly didn’t give any about the tentative friendship Sophie thought they had.

She wrinkled her nose. “Did you do more than just kiss?”

Peter had never pressured her - ever - Sophie would tell him sorry with shaky hands, that she just wasn’t ready to go further, then felt gross every time she apologized. But if they went a little too far and she made them stop, he never stayed the night, only napped with her until she was asleep and slipped out just after.

“I’m so sorry, princess -”

She recoiled at the pet name. She’d never liked it but didn’t hate it enough to argue against it. “No, no, answer the question, Peter. Did you do more?”

“...Yeah. We did. I just - I had to find it somewhere, you know -”

“Oh.” She mumbled, her insecurities confirmed.

“Sophie, princess, I’m so sorry. Why don’t you come over and we can just -”

“I don’t think I want to see you again. For a while.” She added, chewing anxiously on her lip as she told him.

Silence came over the phone for a few moments until he finally replied. “Oh.”

A few more moments. “You’re sure? We can talk it out.”

“Um...no. And yes, I’m pretty sure. Okay. Um. Talk to you later, I guess.” She hung up, feeling more disappointed in herself for not catching it than anything else.

(They did not talk later, or ever again. Sophie figured that was best.)

_______

Shortly after Peter, Sophie met Luke. He was sweet, a little boring too, but most importantly, he was easy. Easy to talk to, easy to hang out with, and she didn’t have this lingering fear in the back of her mind that he was going to go hook up with someone else. After a few months, Luke became a little less than easy - he was clingy and would walk her home from every class, he would ask her to come hang out when he studied in the chemistry lab, he would complain if she didn’t spend the night with him. She found herself lying to him that the architecture studio didn’t allow visitors, just so she could get a breath of fresh air.

One night, when Sophie sighed upon seeing Luke’s contact pop up on her phone and went to grab her overnight bag without even reading the text, Allie frowned. “Sophie.”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have to do this, you know. Just because he says he misses you. You can be your own person.”

Sophie paused, considering. “I am my own person, just with him. Right?”

Allie hesitated before answering, wanting to phrase things carefully so Sophie didn’t get upset. “I feel like maybe you’re a little different with him. When I met you, you were confident and bold and...I don’t know. I think he’s holding you back.”

(You’re a shell of yourself,” is what she really wanted to say, but she wasn’t sure Sophie could handle that.)

“Oh.” Sophie uttered, quiet. Allie had just confirmed what Sophie had been thinking for months, but she didn’t think anyone else had picked up on it. “You think I should break up with him?”

“I think you need to decide that on your own.”

“Allie.”

She just gave her a look, shaking her head. “Go over there, and say what you need to say.”

Sophie was clearly debating, stuck, until Allie pried her bag out of her hand and grabbed her keys from her desk. “Al -”

“Come on. I’ll drive you.” Allie guided her out the door, her arm slung around Sophie’s shoulders. She drove her to Luke’s house, waited outside while Sophie went in, and texted Julia to get ice cream from the store when Sophie walked back out only twenty minutes later with teary eyes.

Sophie slid back in the passenger seat, drawing her knees to her chest. “I did it.”

“I’m proud of you, Soph.” Allie reached over and hugged her. “You’re better than him. I promise.”

When they both returned to their room, Julia wrapped Sophie in a big hug. She held her tight as Sophie sniffled, quietly, then promptly handed her a spoon for the ice cream as soon as she let go. After a few moments of quiet, Julia broke the silence. “So when are you getting back out there?”

“Oh my god, Jules, give her a break.” Allie rolled her eyes as Sophie giggled through her tears.

“I’m just asking! Maybe it’s time for you to go through your hoe phase, babe.” She reached over and snagged a bite of the ice cream, twirling the spoon around thoughtfully. “Or do you have any guys in mind - oh, remember that cute Delt that’s from your hometown -”

Sophie fixed her with a glare. “If I’m doing a hoe phase, it’s sure as hell not gonna be with Rafe Cameron.”

“Rafe! That’s what it was. Okay, so he’s out. What about the bartender at Varsity Club, he always gives you the extra shots in your drink for free?”

“Can you give the girl at least a day to get over her breakup?” Allie asked skeptically.

“Can I just say something?” Julia asked.

Sophie sighed, nodding. “I know you’re gonna say it anyways, so go ahead.”

Julia gave her a sheepish grin, patting Sophie’s knee. “I never liked him. He made you kinda like a doormat, y’know, and that’s not you. You’re better than that. Plus, he was so needy. I mean, he had to have been good in bed for you to stick around -”

“Jesus Christ, Jules -”

“He wasn’t.” Sophie interrupted them both. “We didn’t do that much, anyways.”

“Oh.” Julia paused, thinking. “Well. I’m glad you broke up with him, anyways. Takes a lot of courage.”

———

The first time Luke called when he was drunk, it was only a week after their breakup. Sophie felt bad and picked him up from the bar to drive him home, and let him kiss her in his room before she pulled away and urged him into bed.

The second time, it was the next weekend, and she did the same thing, but kissed him a little more. She ignored Julia’s knowing look when she slinked back into their room, head down, with her lipstick a little smeared and hair a little astray.

He kept drunk calling and she kept going to rescue him, to pick him up from the bars or a pregame or wherever else he was. She convinced herself it was only because she felt bad about breaking up with him, that he wasn’t all that bad in the relationship. The fifth time he called, a month and a half after the breakup, the girls were all drunk at the bars, and Luke was drinking at a party. When he called, Allie snatched the phone out of Sophie’s hand and tucked herself into the corner of the bar to hear him.

“Luke?”

“Soph - no, wait, Allie?”

“Yes. It’s Allie. Stop fucking calling her.”

“I just - I thought she could take me home -” He started, confused.

Allie huffed but forced a smile and gave Sophie a thumbs up from across the bar. “No. She can’t. And you can’t call her anymore, she’s not your girlfriend. Go find a friend or something.” With that she promptly hung up and blocked his number, satisfied. She’d regret it a little in the morning, but didn’t tell Sophie what she’d done.

____

It took Sophie about two weeks after Luke’s last phone call to follow Julia’s advice to ‘get back out there.’ The first time, she convinced herself it was way too easy - flirted with a frat boy at the bar with a few subtle touches, twirled her hair around her finger, and went back to his room after only an hour of knowing him. It was rushed, awkward, and she was pretty sure the guy came in his pants after a few heated kisses and a couple rolls of her hips.

The second time, she tried a little harder, going after a guy that approached her first with a smooth pickup line and a broad smile. They traded buying rounds for each other all night, until he kissed her around midnight and shyly asked if she’d want to go back to his place. When he escorted her into what she recognized as an off-campus Sigma Chi senior house, she didn’t dare inform him that actually, she was just a sophomore with a really good fake ID. She surprised herself when she took off her clothes first, then kissed him with a newfound confidence she’d pulled out of nowhere.

“I lost it.” Sophie announced with a slight frown when she came back into their room at two am.

Allie woke up from her spot on the futon where she and Julia were watching TV, rubbing her eyes. “What’d you lose?”

“Your...” Julia trailed off.

Sophie nodded, wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s not like everyone says. And I thought it would take a little longer. It wasn’t bad, though.”

Allie frowned, getting up to hug her. “Are you alright?”

Sophie accepted the hug, resting her chin on Allie’s shoulder. “Yeah. Just...I don’t know. I kind of hoped it would be a little more special.”

“He didn’t kick you out, did he?” Julia rose too, wrapping her arms around both the girls.

“No. I left.” She paused, sounding both deflated and a tiny bit hopeful. “They can’t all be like this, right? I mean, this is my fourth guy I’ve had...something with, and I’m starting to think there’s a trend.”

“No, no, you’ll find the right person. I promise.” Julia assured her. “Maybe you need to just wait, you know? Take some time for yourself.”

Allie hummed in agreement. “You’re more than just some dumb relationship.”

“I just…” Sophie sighed, quietly. “How am I supposed to know when he’s the right one?”

taglist: @drewstarkey @lemur46 @jjmaybanksbaby @edgeofgr8 @quxxnxfhxll @obxtess @hoodpankow @vtgirl802 @outerbankies @messagesinthesky @nicolecarsley @svechnikolan @ilovejjmaybank @obxtess @abbyj1822 @oopsiedoopsie23 @g4bster @jjmaybankzz @freddymaybank @dontjinx-it @illbesafeforyou @moniamaybank @tovvaa @jailcalledlife @sunshineitsfine44 @randomficsandshit @outerbankspreferences @outerbanksbro @karsinner @kkmaybank @whoeveniskendall

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fic #outer banks #outer banks fanfic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe x sophie #mine #college rafe #frat rafe

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rina-writes · 4 years

Text

The Dress

A/N: The friend!reader consoling Ethan reminded me of this drabble I had in my drafts of Ethan comforting gf!reader when feeling insecure. Kinda short, but I think it’s cute :D

Warnings: Fluff, sexual references (at the end), insecure!reader

You chewed on your lower lip as you stood on line for the register. You picked up the velvet, green dress that was draped over your right arm with your left hand to pull it into view.

“Are you sure it looked good?” You asked your best friend who was standing next to you, sending a quick text.

“Yes!” She said, with a laugh. “100 times yes. I think it will look great for the red carpet.”

“It’s not really a red carpet.” You argued, your eyes still analyzing the dress. “It’s more of like a gala. Think the turn of the 20th century, where aristocrats would be invited to a new exhibit at the museum. Everyone would wear their best, strolling through the galleries with a glass of champagne in hand, occasionally nibbling on the hors d'oeuvres being passed around on delicate, silver trays.”

Your best friend paused and a little smirk formed on her lips. “Your boyfriend hired you to do the PR his event again?”

You laughed. “Is it that obvious it’s my idea?” You smiled to yourself.

The Dolan Twins were huge fans of “putting people on,” so to speak. If someone in their circle had a knack for something, they employed them to do it. It wasn’t only that Ethan trusted your creative direction, but he AND Grayson thought your ideas were a great fit for their event. Just like any other person who would organize an 100+ scale event, they paid you very well to do it. So, there was a lot of pressure to make this the best launch celebration ever.

To be honest, you knew you nailed it. You just couldn’t help, but feel like you didn’t fit your own event. You weren’t a big YouTuber or a celebrity or anything remotely famous. Your relationship with Ethan was on the DL, so you didn’t even feel pressure to keep up a certain image. Unlike the boys, you definitely had a “whenever I feel like it” work out regimen and a “whatever taste good” kind of diet. You did try to eat relatively healthy and at least move during the day, but it wasn’t enough to maintain a Instagram-worth physique.

Which brings us back to the dress in your hand that you were now about to purchase...for quite a bit of money. The dress fit the aesthetic of your event: an off the shoulder dress with a sweetheart neckline that dipped down the center of your chest, with long sleeves that started at the top of your arm and ended at your wrist. The velvet material hugged your body, leaving nothing to the imagination, and stopped just about your knees. The dress was classic, and one that you could wear again and again...if you had the confidence. Your best friend hyped you up in the dressing room, but you hated the way your stomach looked in it. But, your best friend looked so disappointed that you didn’t like it. Not because she particularly liked the dress, but because she knew your distaste for the dress was about your feelings towards you body.

“We’ll jack you up.” Your best friend said with a wink as you put the dress in the trunk. She had been watching quite a bit of “Say Yes to The Dress Atlanta” lately and often quoted Monty and Lori. “The party is tomorrow so, let’s continue our glam day where we just relax and pamper ourselves. Then tomorrow, I’ll help you get dressed.”

“Thanks, Y/F/N,” You smiled softly, getting into the passenger seat of her car and buckling your seat belt.

“Trust me, Ethan is going to love it.” Your best friend assured as she backed out of the parking spot.

But, what if I don’t.... You thought, but bit your tongue. You didn’t want to make a big deal about it anymore.

The night of the event, you were buzzing around like a bee. You loved the rush of making sure everything was going right, and the even bigger surge of energy when something was going wrong.

The setting was perfect. Each fragrance had it’s own gallery with a video clip on loop that showed the natural inspiration for the fragrance. There were testimonies from the twins about the fragrances written on plaques placed beside the display of the fragrance bottles. There were also several stations in the gallery to try the fragrance and pick up goodie bags.

You had successful ensured that all food was labeled for vegan, non-vegan, vegetarian, kosher, halal, and marked for allergies. You also did your best to inform the wait staff of who had specific dietary restrictions to know to go to them with the options they could eat first before opening it to the rest of the floor.

You had even ensured that the photographers got people when they came in through the door and let people know about the photo booth in the back.

This was going to be your event to top. Once people knew that you organized it, your office was going to be full with requests. But if there was anyone you wanted to impress, it was Ethan.

And he was. Ethan walked in, his hair styled neatly, his body clad in a black tailored suit with a white button down and a red tie. Grayson, also wore a similar tailored suit and a white button down, but he opted for a green tie. They intended to do the twin thing, and unintentionally did the Christmas color thing...but they could roll with it. When Ethan saw you, his jaw dropped. He had never seen you like this before. For one thing, everyone was running up to you with different issues. You kept a pleasant smile on your face as you calmed people down and told them what to do. You made it look easy. Then there was the dress...oof. It was like he was seeing your curves for the first time. He felt like he would need to holler at you all over again.

“Gray, quick, switch ties with me.” Ethan said, slapping his brother on the arm with the back of his hand.

“No, green is my favorite color.” Grayson said, narrowing his eyes. “I’m also not doing this in the middle of our event.”

“Green’s my favorite color now too.” Ethan said, gesturing to you talking to one of the wait staff.

The green velvet dress looked amazing on your complexion. You had taken the green elements into other parts of your outfit as well as part of your best friend’s “jacking up.” Your hair was decorated with faux emerald and cubic zirconia hair pieces (because this dress already cost you a fortune). You were wearing black pumps, but they had green bottoms that your friend helped you dye yourself. You were also wearing a mix of green and silver jewelry including dangling earrings and a bracelet. Ethan made a mental note to get you a watch for your birthday, one that could go with this dress and any other dress you decided to grace him with in the future.

“Oh wow...” Grayson said, trying not to oogle his brother’s girlfriend. “Okay, you win. Take my tie...”

Grayson removed his tie and Ethan did the same. If you had turned around and seen them, it would have been comical. It was like they were racing to see who could tie a tie the fastest and they were both losing. Finally, they both looked decent enough to mingle. Ethan walked straight towards you.

“Excuse me, miss?” Ethan said, licking his lips as he spoke to you.

You looked up from the table you were re-arranging and smiled softly. This was one of your favorite bits. When Ethan pretended to not know you and ask you out again. It was funny because Ethan was Mr. Slow and Steady when going into a relationship. He never just hollered at a girl, he always became her friend, got to know her and then finally asked her out. It made this all the more fun to act out.

“I just wanted to say that I think you are the most beautiful woman in the room.” Ethan rolled his hands and licked his lips flirtatiously. “And, if you don’t have a man, I’d be happy to apply for the position. If you do, I hope you don’t mind us doing this quietly.”

You laughed, and placed a hand on his chest. “Babe, stop.”

Your hand ran along his tie and you smiled. You loved how you two always unintentionally matched...completely unaware of how much effort Ethan put in to do it.

“Alright, I’ll control myself.” He hugged you tightly, kissing your cheek.

“Ethan...” You blushed. “People are staring.”

“They already were.” He leaned back and smiled at you. “Got to let them know you’re mine.”

Ethan gave your side a squeeze, resisting from giving your butt a little slap, before stepping back. “This event looks amazing, Y/N. I’m so proud of you.”

“I’m proud of you!” You exclaimed. “Your product lent itself to this design. I am even wearing one of your scents now.”

“I know...” He grinned. “...it’s one of my favorites because I made it with you in mind.”

You were about to say something cheesy when someone walked up to Ethan. He introduced them as someone from their management team. You waved, at them, and then paused, suddenly remembering what you were wearing. Your hands danced between covering your stomach and your chest, and you constantly looked at your reflection in one of the dark windows behind them. Your focus on your appearance made it hard to join the conversation. You answered most questions curtly and in a quiet voice.

When you interacted with the catering staff and your team, you weren’t nervous. They had seen you come into the office in sweatpants and coffee stains on your shirt on multiple occasions. You didn’t have to pretend for them. They knew you were good at your job and what you wore didn’t matter.

For Ethan’s colleagues, you felt more pressure. Although the public didn’t know about your relationship, most people in the twins’ circle knew he was dating someone. Eventually, someone would tell someone else that the girl in the green dress was Ethan’s girlfriend, and you couldn’t help, but worry about how that would reflect on Ethan.

Ethan was surprised to see you clam up like this. This wasn’t like you normally, and it definitely wasn’t like you a few moments earlier. At first he thought it was just because you were caught off guard. It wasn’t until the third person he introduced you to did he notice that something was up.

“Baby,” Ethan whispered in your ear as the person excused themself. “Come with me for a second.”

Ethan laced his fingers in yours and pulled you to the back of the galleria where there was a back room used to house the extra supplies like toilet paper and tools.

“Is everything okay?” Ethan asked, once he was sure you were both alone and the door was closed.

“Yeah!” You smiled, thinking he was the one worried. “Everyone loves the launch, Ethan! It’s going well.”

“Not the event,” Ethan said, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you toward him. “I mean you. You’re not acting like yourself.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, putting your hands on his shoulders. “I’m fine.”

“You’re acting all shy and awkward.” He rested his forehead on yours. “You only do that when something is bothering you.”

“No I don’t.” You argued in a monotone voice.

The silence was awkward and bone chilling. Ethan just stared at you until you cracked.

“It’s the dress...” You admitted with a sigh. “I look like a whale.”

“Wait what?” Ethan asked, almost yelling.” Are you nuts? Y/N, baby, you look amazing. I’ve been planning to pull you in here and plow you in this dress. I am holding back everything inside of me right now...how could you say that?”

You blushed. “It’s my stomach.” You backed up so you could show him the outline of your stomach. Your hands then went to the neckline of the dress. “And this is cut in such a weird spot.”

“Your stomach looks fine, I didn’t even notice it. And your tits look amazing in that weird spot.” Ethan used air quotes when he said weird spot. His hands then immediately went to your lower back to pull you closer to him.

“I just don’t feel like this dress is right for me.” You sighed again.

“Why?” Ethan asked, running hands up your sides. “Because this dress looks so amazing on you, I almost don’t want to take it off. Almost...”

You smiled softly. “I dunno...it just doesn’t look right. Maybe I should work out or something....”

“I mean if you want.” Ethan kissed your forehead. “Or you can change what you see in your mind. Everyone here is impressed with you. They want to hear more about you and book you for their events. I’m sure they’d ask if you didn’t seem so...out of it.”

You seemed unsure so Ethan continued, “Hey, I’ve even heard compliments on your dress. I can’t change what you think of yourself, but I want to help you to love yourself the way I love you.”

“I love you too, E.” You sighed, “You really think it looks good?”

“Yes.” Ethan nodded so quickly you thought his head would roll off.

“Thank you.” You said, looking down at yourself. Suddenly, your stomach didn’t look that big and your boobs did look pretty nice. You realized, it wasn’t the dress. It was the whole being Ethan’s girlfriend thing that threw you off.

“I guess, I just felt like this was the kind of dress that someone like you would like to see your girlfriend in.” You said, still looking down.

Ethan narrowed his eyes. “Yes, hence why I like seeing you, my girlfriend, in this dress.”

“I know, it’s just sometimes I feel like there is Ethan Dolan’s girlfriend...this image i have in my head.” You paused. “And then there’s me. Which sometimes is a different image.”

“Well guess what...” Ethan kissed your cheek. “That image in my head is always you. So, whatever we have to do to match up the images in your head, I’m ready to do it together.”

“Aww, E...” You kissed him softly and he deepened the kiss.

His hands roamed from your shoulders to your backside, giving your body little squeezes. As the kiss got sloppier, you realized that Ethan wasn’t going to be satisfied by a little frenching.

“Quickie before we go back out?” You suggested, breaking the kiss.

You walked over to one of the shelves and put your hands on top of it. You turned so your butt was up and facing Ethan, one of his favorite positions.

“Yes ma’am,” He smirked, unbuckling his belt as he walked over.

“But make sure you don’t ruin my dress.” You said, looking back at him with a wink.

“Yes, ma’am.”

#holy candy canes #I went on wakeheart to research for this fic #I almost fell out my chair when the music hit me #reminds me of my old school tumblr when I used to have a music bar #at least people could pause it like damn #dolan twins #ethan dolan #ethan dolan blurb #ethan dolan imagine #ethan dolan scenario #ethan dolan x reader #ethan dolan x you #r-writes-fic

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khadij-al-kubra · 4 years

Text

Worst Impressions are the First (ch 7)

Main Characters: Logan, Patton, Roman, Virgil (Human AU)

Pairings: Romantic LAMP

Word Count: 5036

AO3

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Author’s (longer than usual but it’s for good reason) Note: *The Apocalypse—2020. Zoom in on a plague rat turned writer. She has survived thesis projects, getting a Master’s degree, burnout, writing and illustrating a children’s book, being a slave for the U.S. census bureau, months of overthinking anxiety spirals, and one or two incidents involving an asshole skunk. But now, battle weary yet unwavering in her love of art and love for her loyal readers, this onesie-clad tea slurping book dragon....has finally arisen from the ashes*

I LIVE BITCHES!!!!!!! And I am SO SORRY for taking so long!!! I’ve been hard at work, been editing like a mad woman, and I even have a beta now! The gorgeous and talented @humbletortoise So I am OFFICIALLY off hiatus!!! *cue confetti canon*

Also, one of the biggest reasons I’ve taken so long to update is because I’ve spent the past month or so essentially retconning the fuck outta this fic. I realized looking back at earlier chapters in this story that, although I was proud of them at the time and greatly appreciate the positive reactions, they were...not my best work. (shitty first drafts if I’m being honest) That’s because, at the time, I was trying to split my attention between writing this fic and working on grad school stuff, which resulted in my writing for this not being as best of quality as it could have been upon first posting. This story deserves my best, and so do all of you. So now I hope to give you that.

I encourage you to go back and re-read the previous chapters up till now (trust me, they’re near unrecognizable to the first drafts, but in the best way). Or if you don’t feel like doing that, you can just continue on from here. totally cool. For the sake of convenience and my own sanity, I’ll attach the AO3 Link to this fic from the start. I may also start just posting chapter updates on tumblr but only have the link to the chapter and add my reader tags. Again, for the sake of my sanity because Tumblr is a bastard when it comes to posting fics. (Also PLEASE let me know if there are any tagging issues if anyone’s on my tags list; yet another reason i’m considering just linking my fics in the future)

Anywho, without further ado, at LOOOOOONG last, here is the next chapter!

Chapter 7 - (POV Roman)

When Roman had offered to walk with Logan to class, it was only partly out of an innate sense of chivalry; a side of himself that he rarely got to show on account of being a socially awkward gay disaster. Though mainly, he saw it as a chance to get to know his second soulmate better.

He certainly hadn’t expected two long minutes of civil but silent walking. Well, as silent as a stroll through their school could be with its usual racket buzzing around them. With a vocabulary as big as the continents of Africa and Eurasia combined, you’d think Logan would be more of a conversationalist. Alas. He merely walked in step with Roman. They glanced over at each other every so often, but Logan stayed tight lipped and seemingly impassive; fiddling with his bumblebee hair pin every now and again. Damn. Looked like he was going to have to make the first move.

Roman was bad at this. How did people usually…Oh yeah, common interest. That’s a thing. He wracked his brain for some sort of ice breaker. One that’d make him look cool and calm or, something, in front of Logan. He was a fairly decent student though not quite mathletes level. He could compliment his outfit maybe? Was that too forward? Too shallow? Maybe he could find common ground? That was as good a place to start as any.

“So! So uhh…What kind of music do you like?” Roman asked. Yeah, that’s good. Everybody likes music.

Logan glanced at him. “Can you be more specific?”

Roman’s brow furrowed. “I mean, like, your favorite genre of music to listen to?”

“Classical,” said Logan in a clipped tone.

“That’s cool. I don’t really listen to classical myself.”

Logan only hummed, his face neutral. Roman was really hoping for more than that. A few awkward seconds passed, then Logan spoke up.

“Are you perhaps a fan of the classic Sherlock Holmes novels?” He inquired.

“Um, I haven’t gotten around to the books yet, actually,” Roman said, scratching his earlobe. “I mean, I’ve heard great things about them. And I’m a big fan of the Robert Downey Jr. movies.”

“Ah. I see.” Logan said, giving him the judgiest side eye.

Come on, Roman thought. Give me something to work with. “Oh! What about theater?”

“What a frustratingly vague inquiry.”

“Well, excuse me for trying to get to know my soulmate a little better.” Ay come jode, work with me here, man!

Logan sighed. “While I understand and appreciate your intention, I believe ‘getting to know someone’ as you put it, requires a certain level of specificity. Anything less indicates a somewhat shallow level of sincere interest, and I greatly despise shallow conversation. That said, if you’re inquiring as to whether or not I enjoy theater, no. I don’t understand the concept of professional make believe, though I appreciate it as an art form. I assume you’re a fan?”

Is he seriously implying I’m shallow? Roman groused, pushing his red frames up the bridge of his nose. Ugh, forget it Roman. He’s throwing you a bone here. Take it.

“Obviously,” said Roman, gesturing dramatically. “I mean I’m no actor—Eesh. No. Yikes—but everything about the artform enthralls me. And I like all kinds of genres and eras of plays, from Shakespear to Ruhl, but musicals are by far my favorite, because like, there’s so much you can do with them design wise. I mean just look at how groundbreaking Hamilton was.”

For a second, Logan’s face actually softened, his eyes lighting up. But just as Roman thought they were finally about to make some progress, his stony companion was back to wearing that platinum puss.

“Ah. How… original.”

Roman blinked. “Are you saying my tastes are basic?”

“Well, yes.”

Augh! Okay. Yep. I don’t like him. Patton was going to be so disappointed, and Roman was too. He’d wanted so badly to get along with all his soulmates, but Logan was a snob! Way less intimidating than Virgil and his ilk, but still a jerk. I wonder if soulmarks can make typos or something? Thank the stars they’d already arrived.

Roman and Logan filed in with the rest of the class for seventh period. Somebody had the liberty of opening a window– the AC was still busted in this classroom– so for once there was actually a decent breeze cutting through the usual mucky Florida humidity. Still smelled like it would probably rain later. Good thing Roman had packed an umbrella just in case, Mom’s orders. His hair looked too good today to be wrecked by frizz.

Roman took a seat at his desk, running distracted fingers over the carved letters in the wood while he mulled over his predicament. Just look at him over there, thought Roman as he glared at Logan, not two rows away from him. Sitting with his hands clasped on the desk all smug—of course he’d be near the front—and with such disturbingly good posture. What is he, a robot? Who is he to call my interests basic, the NERVE! And okay, sure, like Hamilton, sometimes I get over excited and shoot off at the mouth. But great Zeus, does that guy show passion for ANYTHING besides academics? Roman blew a raspberry, plopping his head in his hands.

He always thought soulmates were supposed to get along, even as just friends for life. Balancing each other out, bringing out the best in you and forming a deep connection—that was the whole point. He sighed to himself. Cymbals clashed less than he and Logan did.

He was stirred from his brooding by the bell. Apparently Mr. ‘Call-me-Terrence’ Williams had materialized without him noticing. Okay fine, he should probably pay more attention, but he was having a crisis here.

“Afternoon everyone,” Terrence greeted in that measured, upbeat tone of his.

He draped his navy blue blazer over the back of his desk chair and rolled his shirt sleeves to the elbows. Roman pitied the poor guy; he had to teach sauna of a classroom all day. He could see the glisten of sweat on his teacher's smooth forehead as he wrote things on the board. Yet he still kept a pleasant attitude towards his students.

“Alright class!” Terrence started, “Today we’re covering the next section on the American Revolution. Specifically, the Battle of Yorktown...”

Roman mentally punched the air. My time has come. He opened his textbook to the right page but didn’t bother looking at it. He already knew most everything about Yorktown. Not just because he’d listened to the Hamilton soundtrack fifteen and a half million times, but also because he’d done actual research on the event and time period that the musical took place; There was always the off chance he’d get to stage crew or, heck, even dramaturg the show. He liked to be prepared.

“So the battle of Yorktown took place in 1781, but a great deal of its success was thanks to the French Allies. Many especially aided in fighting the British Troops surrounding New York. Now who can tell me where the French Soldiers first landed?”

Roman half raised his hand. He was pretty sure he knew the answer.

“Logan.” Terrence called.

Roman turned to Logan desk, where his hand was held high and mighty.

“The French Ally ships first landed in Rhode Island, then made their way to Chesapeake Bay,” said Logan, adjusting his glasses. Not even a hint of second guessing in his voice.

“That’s right!”

He almost missed the quick smirk on Logan’s frustratingly pretty face. Look at that smug—thinks he’s so smart...Okay yes, he is smart, but he doesn’t have to be a show off about it. Terrence continued through the passages, calling on a student every now and again to review. Of course, Logan got called on most and he got every answer right. Roman didn’t feel like raising his hand anymore.

“Of course there were many turning points in the revolution, but Hamilton’s return to the field for Yorktown was a key point.” Terrence continued on. “And keep in mind- this was a man who up till now had never been in a position of command before. Not to mention the mental strains he must’ve been under, especially having had to miss the birth of his son Philip, the first of three children he had.”

Wait a sec. “Well, that’s not right.”

Even though he’d muttered, apparently Mr. Terrence still heard him. “Come again, Roman?”

Shoot. “Um, I said,” Stop sounding timid, you know you’re right. “I said that was, um, wrong.”

The whole class turned to him. Oh great, history class has its eyes on me. Roman cleared his throat and tried to look taller.

“What I mean is: Hamilton had eight kids, not three. And on top of that, Phillip was born a few months after they won the Revolution, not during, so Hamilton didn’t miss the birth of his son. I mean sure, it’s a small thing, but the devil’s in the details as they say. Heh.”

Terrence gave the most insultingly bemused look. And Roman definitely heard a few kids snickering behind him. He glanced quickly at the culprits and felt his ears go hot. This is what he got for putting himself in the spotlight.

“Roman, I applaud you for participating in the class discussion,” Their teacher started gently, “but I’m afraid you’re wrong on this one. If you read your textbook close you’d see in the fifth paragraph where it mentions from one of his later letters—“

“Actually Mr. Williams, if I may, Roman is correct.”

Roman saw Logan at his desk, one hand raised while the other adjusted his neck scarf. Was the teacher’s pet actually… backing him up?

“It is a common misconception that Alexander Hamilton only had two children, even more so modernly, what with the musical having only named two of them. However Roman has clearly done his research on the plays historical accuracies, which is more than I can say for some.”

Logan shot a cool but scathing look at their recently snickering classmates and they withered. Roman fought the urge to point and laugh aloud. He did however stick his tongue out real quick. What? He could be shy and petty at the same time.

“My guess,” Logan continued, “is that this textbook edition is also either misprinted or outdated, judging by the publication date in the copyright section.”

Brows furrowed, Terrence looked at the textbook laid open on his desk. He flipped back to the front, before pulling out his cellphone—“I’m the teacher, I’m allowed to do this. You guys aren’t.”—and after what Roman guessed was a quick Google search, their teacher looked up. His eyebrows drawn in a ‘hm, well damn’ expression.

“Looks like you’re right, Roman. And thank you Logan for bringing to my attention about the textbooks. I’ll have to talk to the principal about hopefully getting some updated materials. But we’ll see how that goes,” Terrence, muttered the last part, though Roman was close enough to catch it. Terrence cleared his throat and moved back to the board. “Maybe if we call on assistance from the inside. Much like how the Sons of Liberty sent in Hercules Mulligan to spy on the British...”

“Perhaps if we knew of an immigrant who was unafraid to step in,” Logan said just under his breath.

No one else seemed to notice the reference, but when Roman did, he felt like a mini volcano about to burst rainbow lava. Apparently there was a lot more to his soulmate than first meets the eye; and now that he knew, Roman was determined to see more of it. The rest of class passed quickly and everyone filed out to the halls as the first bell for the last class period of the day rang. Roman made sure to catch up to Logan on the way out and staccato tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, Logan?” He said.

When Logan turned, he swore time slowed down for a moment. The brilliant boy’s skirt flared around his waist, and somehow his skin glowed even under the dull, inconsistent school lights. His posture was erect yet natural, he could have been raised among nobility. Amidst the stench and clamor of loud sweaty students, Logan was as poised and striking as the goddess Athena. Oh...

“Yes, Roman?” Logan asked.

Roman gulped. “I uh, just wanted to thank you for backing me up in there.”

“Thanks are unnecessary,” Logan said. “I detest when someone is shamed by other students for speaking up in class, regardless of whether or not they have the correct information.”

“Well regardless, thanks for coming to my aid in the face of academic danger.”

“Dramatic, but my pleas—oof!”

A hurried passerby bumped into Logan from behind, rushing off with a half-assed ‘sorry’. Logan, caught off guard, stumbled right into Roman’s arms. The two looked at each other, cheeks filling with heat. Roman caught a whiff of something faintly floral on Logan, something natural– a lavender and honeysuckle perfume, perhaps. It was heavenly. They were still in the middle of foot traffic though, so he maneuvered them to the side. Which was tricky since Logan was still so close to him and also a good two inches taller with the heels.

“Well,” Roman flashed his pearly whites. “Seems you’ve fallen for me.”

Logan pulled away, but his lips quirked upwards in a teasing smirk. “Oh please, I merely stumbled into you.”

“Ah, but stumbling is the first step towards being swept off your feet.”

“Bold words from an abashedly charming homunculus in such an… eye catching ensemble.”

Did he call me charming!? He composed himself, “Hey, don’t let the sweater vest fool you. I may be short but I’ve got guns.”

“Aaah. But mind over muscle, as they say. Do you find yourself up to the task?”

“Only if it’s you, my brainy blossom.”

Roman’s class was in the other direction, but Logan didn’t need to know that. They walked through the halls, conversing. class was still in the next ten or so minutes, but Roman was having fun. Banter with Logan felt surprisingly easy. Natural like they’d been at it all their lives.

“By the way, was that a ‘Guns n’ Ships’ reference I overheard, pastel poindexter?” Roman asked.

Logan cleared his throat. “It… may have been, yes. I found myself unable to resist toppling the figurative dominos.”

“In other words, you seized the opportunity you saw,” Roman said, matching his own reference to the source’s cadence, which got a chuckle out of Logan.

“Precisely. Under more casual circumstances, I may have even recited Lafayette’s part.”

“You can rap? You can rap Guns n’ Ships? Like, the whole thing, no tongue twists?”

Logan stopped for a moment, turned to Roman. The taller boy cleared his throat, and after a moment wherein he seemed to mentally restrain himself, he simply adjusted his glasses. “I have an appreciation for poetry.”

Roman blinked rapidly. Holy shit, he’s an even bigger nerd than I am. He definitely needed to see that at some point.

They turned a corner, stopping just outside of the science room. Some students were going in to take their seats, and the teacher was already making notes on the board. Logan pulled an AP Physics book from his backpack, but made no move to leave, much to Roman’s delight.

“So then,” Roman leaned against the eggshell wall, “How come you acted so indifferent earlier and called my tastes basic? Oh, and I think I remember you also implied I was shallow?”

Okay, yeah, he was still kind of salty about that. But then he saw the shamed look on the nerd’s face, and Roman wished he could have taken it back. Logan looked at his shoes then back at him.

“To be candid I was… hesitant to show the full extent of my enthusiasm. In case you thought I’d be—I believe ‘being the most’ is the term— it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve caused someone to lose interest in conversing with me due to informational overload. I nearly bored my Aunt Patricia to sleep once talking about a fascinating article on jellyfish. And considering how I blundered our initial meeting—“

“Pfft, ya think?” He mentally slapped himself again when Logan went tight-lipped and turned to go. “No, no, wait. I—I’m sorry. Truly. ...Truth is, I was no gentleman either. I’m not always great at thinking before I speak. It’s why I’m so awkward around people. Takes a while for my true charming nature to shine through.”

“Clearly. Still, you show a level of interpersonal aptitude that I, well, lack.” Logan fiddled with his hair pin again and a stray hair came loose. “Reading people and expressing emotions has never really been—It’s something I struggle with.”

Much as Logan tried to maintain his cool composed posturing, Roman could tell that this was something that really bothered him. He tried so hard to seem put together and confident and serious, but really he was just as awkward and insecure as anyone. Roman smiled softly and stepped closer to Logan, reaching up to tuck the loose ebony strand behind his ear.

“Hey, everyone’s got things about themselves they can work on. Including me,” Roman smiled. “And believe me when I say that I will never judge you for being passionate about something you like. So if you ever want someone to ramble about jellyfish or Sweeney Todd to or—I dunno, calculators or something?—I’m all ears.”

Logan’s cheeks went pink and he gave a hesitant yet sincere smile. “That’s...very kind of you, Roman. And coincidentally, I also greatly enjoy Sweeney Todd. The use of iambic pentameter and alliteration to give a succinct synopsis to the story in just the first sentence alone is pure brilliance.”

“Right!? I mean the man’s a mad genius. I’m dying to design sets for one of his musicals someday. Like last year? I came up with the concept of having the Sweeney Todd sets done in a way that highlights the class differences with the characters.” Roman went into a small three minute ramble regarding the specifics before he cut himself off abruptly. Logan was blinking rapidly, a look of mild shock crossing his feature. Roman nearly started sweating; Had he messed this up again?

“That… that’s ingenious”

Roman’s ears were burning. Ohmygosh!Ohmygosh!Ohmygosh!

“Hey, Logan!” They both startled and turned to an impatient cheerleader with a ginger undercut and they/them pronoun pin shaped like a coffin. “What’re you doing just standing out in the hall, ya dork? Oh, hey Roman.”

“Uh. Hey, October,” Roman said, waving awkwardly to them.

“I told ya, Red, you only get to call me that when we’re working on a show.”

“Wait, October? Red? You two know each other?” Logan asked, brow arching.

“Kind of. They sometimes help out with costumes for the drama club,” said Roman. And they have terrible timing. I mean seriously Tobes, we were having a moment.

“Come on Lo, class is about to start, and you promised to go over my homework with me real quick beforehand. See ya ‘round, Ro.” Toby grabbed Logan’s hand and pulled him into the classroom. “You can fill me in on what you were doing with Red later.”

Logan followed his—apparently—friend into their classroom, but he shot Roman an apologetic look over his shoulder. Roman bounced a bit on the balls of his feet before following halfway into the room. Logan was in his seat with Toby showing him an open notebook. A teacher in a tight grey hair bun was writing on the board. Students at their seats were chatting, and some looked up at the short dork in red who burst in. For once Roman ignored them, his mind set on one last attempt at wooing his green skirted genius while he still had the nerve.

“Hey, Logan,” he said. “I’ve also got some great layout designs for an Into the Woods set. If you’re interested, maybe we can meet up after school and I can show them to you? Maybe we talk a bit more over iced lattes or something?”

“Excuse me, Mr. Prince, seventh period starts in five minutes,” said the teacher. “Unless you’ve suddenly transferred to my class, I suggest you stop distracting my favorite student and get going.”

“I’ll be gone in just a second,” he said. “Well?”

Logan smoothed the silky fabric of his pink scarf and said, “That sounds optimal, Roman. I’ll meet with you. By the first floor water fountain perhaps?”

Roman grinned. “I shall be counting the minutes.”

“Mr. Prince,” said the teacher with a warning glare.

Roman blew a kiss at Logan and then ducked out of the doorway. Was he embarrassed of himself? Oh definitely. Did he regret it? Absolutely not. He felt ten inches tall.

Now to complete the quest of making it to class in time. He slid off a shoulder strap to unzip his classic Mickey backpack, getting out the notebook and the relevant homework. He found them amidst the mess of spiral notebooks, granola bar wrappers, two textbooks and rainbow sticky notes. But something was missing from his folder.

“Where are those– it should be here.” He could’ve sworn he had his stapled the blocking notes in his folder. No, wait, the last place he saw them was— “Ah shoot! I left them in the tech closet again.”

Under normal circumstances, Roman would’ve grabbed them after school, but the auditorium was locked on weekends. He’d have to wait till Monday to get them and that just wouldn't do! he wanted to show Logan his notes today! I’ll bet David Korins never has these kinds of problems. Okay, okay. Still got four minutes. He could rush to the auditorium, grab the notes, and then head straight to class. I should have enough time, right? Right. Besides it was only Spanish Class, he was already pretty fluent after all those summers visiting his grandparent in Nicaragua. He spent most of class time dreaming up blocking notes anyway.

Despite not being totally convinced by his own argument, Roman immediately turned on his heel and started running in the opposite direction. After a teacher told him no running in the halls, Roman power walked through the halls with a skip in his step and a song in his heart, feeling absolutely gay in both senses of the word. Logan had actually called his idea ingenious! And the way those sharp eyes softened just for him- he would squeal if not for the fact that it would draw too many eyes to him. The halls were still filled with a few stragglers rushing to the last class of the day, and he was already trying not to get caught being late for class.

Now he knew how Maria felt in West Side Story. Y’know, before Act 2. Oh sure, they’d gotten off to a shaky start, but as the Bard’s adage on the course of true love said; and Roman felt it in his gut that this was certainly the start of true love. Not just with brilliant Logan but also with soulful Patton as well. He didn’t know how an awkward geek like him ever got so lucky in the soulmate department…Then again, there was still the matter of Virgil. So maybe not so lucky.

Roman touched his arm, remembered flustered yet flattering purple words. I know they both said Virgil is secretly sweet and I can sympathize with the terrors of closet town, but COME ON! Virgil? Really? That gloomy gladiator? There had to be a mistake in that. After all, Patton liked to see the good in everyone. Logan was much more of a skeptic, but he does seem to have a blind spot with sarcasm. Maybe Virgil was messing with them somehow. Even if he’s not a jerk jock, the guy’s still kind of a creepazoid; with his dark eyes and cheeta-esq gait and those probably huge muscles hidden under that bulky jacket and big hands...

His gay disaster train of thought came to a merciful halt as he reached the auditorium. Roman pushed open the doors, took a pause to breathe in the quiet comfort of this chapel of the arts. Okay yeah, chapel was maybe a little kind for the school’s auditorium which doubled as the drama Club’s rehearsal space/prop closet backstage/Mx Joan’s unofficial office because the school didn’t fund the arts programs enough. Even so this space was Roman’s sanctuary. The place where he could help create magic from the shadows, bring stories of those gone and living to life. Here, Roman found something of a community with his fellow backstagers, glee club losers, and budding thespians (the nice ones). So he loved every squeaky stage plank, every duck taped seat cushion and every speck of dust that floated in the spot lit air like fairies.

Mx. Joan wasn’t around for once, thankfully. Probably in the teacher’s lounge or rendezvousing with the school nurse or something. They were pretty chill and Roman knew he was their favorite student, but the choir director/drama club moderator/music teacher (this school really needs to fix its funding habits) wouldn’t have been too keen on Roman being deliberately late for class.

Roman walked down the aisle and to the side room by the stage. It was originally a janitor’s closet, but their club moderator transformed it into a ‘Crew Only’ Storage Unit… Okay it was still a closet, but with less bleach and more coils. This was where they kept important equipment for semester shows, like the lighting and sound boards, along with other supplies. Roman made a quick mental note to get more gaffer tape later, seeing their supply was low.

He looked through the small pile of scribbled and highlighted sheets with the lighting cues for the spring show. I’ve really gotta get a binder for these…Ah-Ha! Here you are! Roman pulled out the stapled sheets titled ‘Into the Woods Dream Set’ and carefully shoved them into his bag. Perfect timing too. He might just be able to make it to class after—

RIIIIIIIIIIING

“GAH!”

What the heck? He could’ve sworn he was alone in there, but that yelp just now said otherwise. Up close, Roman saw that the curtains were rustling, accompanied by sounds of heavy breathing and moaning, yet not a footstep to be seen or heard.

Holy SHIT, this place IS haunted! I KNEW that backdrop fiasco last semester wasn’t caused by cheap slit plywood. My supplies are the best quality allowance money can buy. Great Macbeth’s bloody knife, I TOLD Kai we should've sprung for a ghost light! Remus always teased him for being superstitious but look who’s laughing now.

He dashed back into the crew closet and grabbed the heavy push broom leaning in the corner. Roman Prince was NOT about to be caught unawares and possessed by the ghost of a disgruntled student without a fight. He would defend his domain of imagination!

Roman slowly climbed the stage steps, wielding his broom like a bow staff, turned the curtain corner where the noises were coming from and was about to release a war cry on the—

“Virgil?”

Roman nearly dropped his weapon at the sight of Virgil Alighieri—star athlete, object of his fears and supposed soulmate—curled in on himself trembling and crying.

His jacket was pulled over his head like a hood, yet Roman could see the tear stained face peeking out from underneath. Virgil’s eyes were squeezed tight, making the dark circles he’d never noticed before more prominent. There was no denying the athlete had muscle but he was more lithe—thin enough for Roman to wonder if the guy ate enough. Virgil’s trembling could rival a chihuahua, shaky hands clutching his knees, and he was clearly in the midst of a bad panic attack.

Roman had built Virgil up in his mind as being like some odd combination of Hades and Ares. The strong silent wolf within his pack of jocks, a surging thunderstorm just waiting for the right nerd to come along and piss him off enough to strike down like the bolt of Zeus.

Someone to be afraid of.

But now? Seeing him in this state, all alone and whimpering like a wounded animal...it broke Roman’s heart.

He set the broom down gently and carefully crouched down in front of Virgil. “Virgil,” he said softly. “Virgil, can you hear me?”

Virgil let out a breathy sob but otherwise didn’t seem to register him. Just how long had he been sitting here like this?

Roman was at a loss for what to do. Sure he knew plenty of people with anxiety but never saw someone having an actual panic attack before. He did know that if he didn’t help the other calm down soon, Virgil was liable to pass out. He’d never wanted to hug someone so badly in his life. Roman tentatively reached out a hand but stopped. What if touching him makes it worse? What if I startle him so badly he actually has a heart attack!? Maybe I should get the nurse. But I can’t just leave him like this.

He caught sight of the colorful soulmarks written on Virgil’s arm. Saw his own harsh thoughts: ’Dios mio, he’s staring right at me—like he wants to punch my face!’

Roman took his shame and forged it into steel. I won’t abandon you...my soulmate.

Virgirl’s let out a hiccuped cry, and this gave Roman an idea. Something from back when he was a child. It was probably stupid and a long stretch, but it was all he could think of. He readjusted himself so that he was now sitting right next to Virgil, making sure not to startle him. Roman cleared his throat, then as softly as he could, he began to sing.

“Come stop your crying, it’ll be alright.

Just take my hand, hold it tight.”

Roman one and carefully gentled his hand over Virgil’s. After a moment, he felt a light squeeze, and that encouraged him to keep going.

“I will protect you from all around you.

I will be here, don’t you cry…”

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alison-anonymous · 4 years

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what the hair?! ♡ varian

What the Hair ♡ Varian Imagine

Requested: noootttt exactllyyy, but @technolilly gave me the idea. Darling, if you're reading this, let me know what you think!!! 😉😁

Warnings: lovestruck Varian😍

Summary: basically the first episode of the Tangled series, but I weaved the reader in and tweaked a couple things!

♡♡♡

Your life was incredibly complicated.

Like seriously, if someone were to give out an award for Most Complicated Life, you would win the title, hands-down.

You were Y/n L/n, daughter of the infamous L/ns, or, as they are better known among the criminals as, the Kingdom Snatchers. Not a very creative name, but then again, their title was given to them by the puny-minded brains of burglars, thieves, and murderers. Your parents were villains who would weave their way into a perfect kingdom with the perfect Queen and King, and take over their kingdom before they reached dessert. They would murder the real Queens and Kings, imprison the citizens, and then leave the kingdom in ashes. They were driven to practical insanity from their corrupted, power-loving minds and became known and feared in all of the lands. Wanted posters littered the forests, offering generous amounts for their capture. But of course, anyone who tried to get close to them ended up dead.

And of course, after they had you, they tried to teach you their ways to become a Kingdom Snatcher so you could take over once they got old and withered. You were supposed to become a vicious, kniving, power hungry, and insane mass murderer/dictator/whatever the hell you want to call it.

There was only one problem.

You didn't want to be the bad guy.

Of course, your parents were furious. If you weren't willing to become an evil thief like them, then of what use were you to them? To have the ability to watch you grow up, living a happy and healthy life, making them proud that their daughter was able to find her own source of happiness in life? Ha! Your parents were killers! If you didn't want to join them, they might as well kill you and keep trying until one of their kids decided they loved the evil life.

And so, you did the only thing you really could do.

You ran away. You were only 7, hardly a child.

And as time went on, you learned how to fend for yourself against the treacherous ways of the world. You were alone for most of your life. And after a while, you began to fear that it might just stay that way. Until you met a certain blonde princess with seven feet of hair, and everything changed.

♡♡♡

It was a bright, shiny morning; a morning that Rapunzel would fall in love with. You were out looking for the certain blonde herself, and lucky you to have found her sitting next to the fountain with her favorite Lady in Waiting.

“I was thinking about your hair,” Cassandra said as you walked up to them, pressing your hands on Rapunzel’s shoulders. She gave you her signature bright grin and motioned for you to join them. “Maybe we can find a way to get some answers discreetly, just us.”

“Ooh, mischievous,” you giggled. “I like it.”

Rapunzel nodded and leaned her head on your shoulder. “I mean, I still think you’re being a bit unfair about the Eugene thing, but what do you have in mind?”

Cassandra’s features grew a little more excited as she used hand gestures. “Well, I’ve heard stories about this guy named Varian. Apparently, he’s some kind of wizard.”

Your eyes raised slightly at the sound of his name. Varian... where had you heard of him before? Probably from some of the little off-their-rocker villagers. Rapunzel seemed pretty excited too as she clapped her hands together like a giddy child. “Wow! A real wizard? Like with a pointy hat and casting spells and stuff?”

You couldn’t help but snort. “Those only exist in fairy tales. My money says he’s selling something. Probably laxatives.”

Cassandra did her best to hide her laugh, but was still smiling as she continued. “No, girls we have to be careful. Very little is known about him and what is isn’t that good. He’s dangerous.”

“But if we want answers, he’s our best bet right?” Cass nodded.

“Looks like we have a wizard to visit!”

♡♡♡

It didn’t take long to make it to Varian’s house, which was in Old Corona. The house looked simple enough, had it not been for the dark and foreboding feeling that apparently only existed in Rapunzel’s brain as the three of you approached the door. It was actually a quaint little thing, simple colors, no broken boards or cobwebs, and was decently larger than the other houses you had passed by.

“It looks nice,” Rapunzel spoke nervously. “In an I-wish-I-said-goodbye-to-my-loved-ones-before-I-left sort of way.”

Cassandra pushed open the door just before you could warn them about the importance of knocking and you all proceeded into the dimly lit house. The shadows seemed to crawl towards you as you help up the caboose of the line, Cass leading the way through the halls of the house until you finally pushed through a door surrounded by some very suspicious looking fog.

“Geez, I guess those laxatives must really be working,” you joked as you propelled yourself through the cool mist. It passed through the soft fabric of your pants and your combat boots as Cassandra pushed open the door revealing yet another dimly-lit room covered in fog. Who was this guy? Just as you were about to speak, Cassandra’s boot made contact with some sort of string on the ground, triggering a myriad of complicated reactions that ultimately ended up with some sort of magenta ball being launched at your feet. You let out a shriek as it exploded into a goopy substance, gluing your feet to the ground. The three of you struggled to get yourselves free.

“A booby trap? Really?” Rapunzel grunted.

“Everything’s going to be fine, Raps, we just need to-” Suddenly a very scary, very robotic looking figure emerged from the shadows. Your heart began to pound faster inside your vest-covered chest as your eyes widened in terror.

“W-who... is...that?” You could barely muster as the figure got closer. Two, electric yellow orbs were all that you could see as Rapunzel held an arm out protectively in front of you.

“What do you want?” The voice boomed throughout the halls, striking terror into your heart. Your mouth fell open as you stared, slight PTSD forming from all of the moments you spent witnessing your parents torture innocent people.

“U-um, hi, sir, I really hate to bother you, but I was just wondering if I could get your help about my hair,” Rapunzel did her best to hide her stutter. “Because you’re such a magic exper-”

“Magic?” The metal laxative man robotically asked. “I do not work with magic!” He suddenly lifted the helmet off of his head to reveal someone a hell of a lot less intimidating and, dare you say, kind of... insanely cute. “I mean, technically, it’s alchemy but...” He drawled off the moment he laid his adorable blue orbs on you. It was almost as if though he had gotten lost in a trance as his eyes looked over every inch of you before finally resting on your face once again, a twinkle in his eyes that, the more you looked at it, reminded you of the way Eugene looked at Rapunzel.

A little butterfly flew around in your stomach.

“Um, hate to interrupt, but um what is this stuff?” Rapunzel awkwardly chuckled, breaking whatever just happened between you and this supposed “Varian.” Your cheeks held a tinge of pink to them as he quickly regained his composure, a bit of a blush to his own as well.

“Oh! Um, this is a chemical compound of my own design. We have a little bit of a beautiful- I MEAN critter problem,” he chuckled, glancing at you as he pulled out the “neutralizing particle” and sprinkled it over all of your guys’s feet. You watched with an amazed expression as the compound instantly dissipated before your eyes. Varian smirked slightly at your reaction.

“I am so, so sorry, Your Highness.” He bowed to Rapunzel.

“Your Highness?” Rapunzel asked in confusion. “You know who I am?”

“How could I not? Look at your hair!” He suddenly realized the error in his exaggeration and quickly apologized. God, how could one person contain to much adorableness?

...Wait, what?

“Rapunzel is just fine,” Raps smiled at him. “And this is Cassandra, and Y/n.” Cass gave him a firm nod and you offered him a polite smile. His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer.

“Y/n... okay! Anyway, so fantastical stories about your hair have spread throughout Corona. Most people think that it’s magic, but as you’ve probably learned by now, I don’t believe that.” You couldn’t help but smile at his boldness, the pride that he took in his work. He seemed to have something that you only wished you could have: pride.

“Listen kid, we’re kind of in a hurry here, but let’s just get one thing straight here. Everything that happens here stays here, you got-”

“I don’t think we need to threaten him, Cass,” you quickly removed her hand from Varian’s shirt and gave her a reassuring smile. “He seems pretty harmless. Right?”

He quickly nodded his head, like a love struck puppy as he stared at you. After figuring out that Rapunzel’s hair no longer held its fantastical healing properties, Varian stuck her in a machine that he apparently made himself to determine the entire chemical makeup of any substance.

“Woah,” you breathed as you stared at the great machine. “This is... amazing, you built this yourself?”

“Y-You think so?” Varian giggled, a bright crimson tinting his cheeks as he scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, I did.”

“It’s incredible.”

“You’re incredible.”

“What?”

“What?” You were both staring at each other with wide eyes until you finally started giggling.

“You’re funny,” you chuckled, shaking your head slightly and turning back to watch as the machine tried taking an axe to her hair. Little did you know that he was still staring at you the entire time. Time seemed to practically fly by as Eugene came in and then a bunch of Varian’s underground machines suddenly became radioactive or something. Cass and you went out to find him and before you knew it, Old Corona was in near ashes.

You slowly approached Varian after his father had talked to him, and by the looks of it, it hadn’t gone well. You stopped when you were just behind him, trying to debate whether or not you should put your hand on his shoulder.

“Varian...” You began, but stopped, trying to form the right words in your brain. He turned to look at you and instantly became flustered once again.

“Y/n, I am so, so sorry for this, I swear that I-”

“It’s okay, Varian,” you assured him, flashing him a smile and tucking a stray lock of your hair behind your ear. “I mess up too. But that doesn’t mean that we’re any less amazing.”

A small smile grew onto his lips at your words and he let out a soft chuckle. A short, comfortable silence fell between you two as you stared into one another’s eyes until he broke it. “Hey... I know we just met, but would you want to... umm... hang out sometime?”

“I’d love that,” You couldn’t help but grin.

♡ a.a.

#tangled varian #varian #varian x reader #tangled varian x reader #rapunzel's tangled adventure #tangled season 3 #tangled imagine #tangled the series

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yoongisabby · 4 years

Text

Reaction- You’re a fashion designer and need a live model to try on the outfit

Warning: none just pure FLUFF 🥺

A/N: thank you @literallycantchooseabias for this suggestion! I’m sorry it took forever I kept editing it and it’s not my best but I hope you enjoy it! I have three more to write and I’m also updating my au’s but request are open!! So please send them in! 💗

———————————————————————

You got the chance of the lifetime! You were asked to be apart of a big fashion show in Paris, they asked you if you could create an outfit for the show, you were nervous but excited. You had the outfit ready but wanted a model to try it on. You decided to call your boyfriend to your office so he can try it on...

Seokjin:

“Of course I’ll try it on Jagi! Not only am I worldwide handsome I’m also a model sometimes.” Jin said smugly “I just need to make sure it’s going to look okay and surprisingly the model has the same measurements as you” you told him grabbing his hand and leading him towards the room. You pushed him in and handed him the outfit. 5 minutes you knock on the door “Jin are you done?” He replies “yes I’ve been done for the past 2 minutes.” You made a confused face “then come out...?” Jin opened the door and looked at you in amazement “Jagi, YOURE SO TALENTED!” He grabbed your hips and kissed you “I’m asking big hit to hire you as bangtans personal stylist! MY GIRLFRIEND IS AMAZING!” You giggles and wrapped your arms around his waist “thank you for being my biggest supporter baby.” You smiles looking up at him, he softly wrapped his hands around your waist. “Always, you’re really talented y/n, your outfit is going to the steal the show.” He bent down to kiss your forehead and pulled away “Now if you excuse me I’m going to send pictures to the boys and show them how talented MY girlfriend is!” You shook your head and giggles yelling after him, “PLEASE DONT MESS IT UP!”

Yoongi:

“Pleaseeee Yoongi, all I need is for you to wear if for 5 seconds while I adjust a few things! And then I’ll leave you alone.” You begged the grumpy man “No, you’ve been locked away for weeks! I want cuddles and attention!” Yoongi pouted crossing his arms over his chest, “Funny how the tables have switched” you giggles and raised a brow at him, he rolled his eyes and let out a sigh “I’ll be your model if you promise after the adjustments you’ll spend time with me.” He looked at you seriously, you smiled at him and nodded “I promise, now please go put on that suit I made!” You asked again and he walked towards your office. Yoongi walks out 2 minutes later and immediately stands on the platform you set up and attaches his arms out “You look good in my clothing yoong!” You say checking him out and sending him a wink “Only because you made it.” He said blushing a bit, you began to fix a few parts and adjust what you felt needed. After 30 minutes you were finally done “Okay you can take it off and then meet me in the bedroom. How do you feel about have take out tonight?” You asked while putting away your things, “Sounds amazing, I can’t wait to finally have my girlfriend back tonight.” He went and put the suit back up neatly on the rack and like met you in the room for a long night of cuddling and watching movies.

Hoseok:

“WAHHH Y/N! YOU HAVE MAGIC FINGERS!” Hobi said as he was standing on the little crate you had in your studio looking at his reflection in the mirror. “I’m pretty decent at what I do huh?” You replied smiling while making a few alterations to the hem of the sleeves. “Decent?! You’re amazing jagi, and I’m not just saying that. I mean it.” He looked down at you softly, if anyone saw they would think he was looking at the universe. But he was, you’re his universe and he can’t imagine his life without you in it. You blushed at his complement and tried to focus on what you’re doing as you felt his gaze on you. “You mean it Hobi?” You stopped and looked up to meet his eyes, he stepped down and wrapped his arms softly around your waste and pulled you close “I one hundred percent mean it, you’re talented and not only am i going to know that but the whole world is! Your outfit is going to steal the show and I’m going to be proud to know that everyone is amazed by my girlfriends creation just like I am.” He spoke softly to you, there was passion in the way he was speaking about you and your hard work. He meant every word he said and he was going to make sure you knew how proud he is of you. “Thank you Hobi, I don’t know what I would do without you here. I don’t care what other people think of my work, I only care about what you think! Your opinion means the world to me.” You looked up at him with so much love in the world, he smiled down at you and kissed you softly. “I love you y/n y/l/n” “I love you so much Hobi.”

(don’t touch me I’m sobbing!)

Namjoon:

“Joonie! Can you please come here for a minute?” You called to your boyfriend, you needed him to try on the suit you made to see if you need to make any alterations to it or not. “Yes baby doll, you needed me?” He came into your shared bedroom walking behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist,placing a kiss to the top of your head. You melted into his embrace wishing you could stay like this forever but sadly you needed him to try on the outfit. “Could you please try on this suit I made? I just need to see if there’s any alterations that need to be made before i can say it’s complete.” You asked turning around in his arms and leaning in to press a soft kiss to his plush lips, he gladly kissed you back and hummed “Sure baby, this suit looks amazing! I might need you to make me one for MAMA this year.” He said smiling letting you go so he could put it on. “Thank you darling, I would be honored to make you a suit for the award show.” You giggles waiting for him to be done getting dressed, once he was done he stood if front of you posing, sending you into a fit of laughter “Whoah there buddy, wouldn’t want the girls swooning over you more than they do already!” You joked positioning him the way you needed him. “They can swoon all they want, I only got eyes for you sweetheart.” He gave you his signature dimples smile and you could help yourself but kiss him again, “Okay joonie, I’m going to need you to stop distracting me so I can hurry and we can go cuddle.” He perked up at the thought of cuddling you and enjoying each other’s embrace “Yes ma’am!” He replied stay as still as he possibly could, you smiled and began working on the suit.

Jimin:

Jimin is the one who offers to be your model so you can make alterations easily, luckily for you the actual model was jimins height and had the same measurements as him. “Thank you Jimin for offering to help me.” You said sweetly working on the collar of the jacket “No problem jagi! I loving helping you and I love seeing how amazing your work comes out! And plus I get to spend more time with you.” He blushed shyly looking away, Jimin is always flirting with you but he gets so shy when he gets super affectionate. You smiled trying to hurry through the alters so you can shower your baby with love and affection. You worked as fast as you could and eventually finished the whole suit, you sighed happily and took a step back to get a better view, “I think this is my best work yet! And it’s all thanks to my lovely model.” You smiled at him and he gave you his cute eye smile coving his face with his hand, “ahhh stop jagi, you’re making me blush!” He laughed and grabbed your hand pulling you towards him, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “It really is thanks to you chim, you didn’t have to stand here for as long as you did just to help me.” You wrapped your arms around him and held him close, “I know I didn’t have too but I wanted too, I love being with you and I love seeing how passionate you are when you’re doing you love. You look so cute when you’re focused! I had to hold myself back from cooing and trying to kiss your cute face!” He gushed at you cupping you’re face in his hands, you smiled up at him “Well you don’t have to hold back anymore.” You told him and he laughed holding you face in his hands, he leaned down and began prepping kisses all over your face while you giggled and enjoyed it.

Taehyung:

“Hey jagi, what are you up too?” Taehyung called you, you were in the middle of making alterations to an outfit that needed to be ready before tomorrow night so you were in a hurry to finish, “hi baby, I’m kinda busy at the moment do you think I can call you back when I’m done?” You asked him feeling bad cause you wanted to talk to him but you really needed to finish this suit. “Why are you so busy?” There was a pause before he spoke again “OH! The fashion show tomorrow! That’s why you’re so busy! How’s the outfit coming along?” He asked “I think alright, I’m trying to make a few alterations but it’s kinda hard since I don’t have a model wearing it.” You said sighing frustratedly while working on the pant legs for the fifth time, there was a long pause as you continued working forgetting that Taehyung was on the phone with you. “Can I come over?” He suddenly asked “I can help you! I could wear the outfit so you can make the alterations!” You stopped and hesitantly asked “Are you sure? You don’t have too. I don’t want to be a burden on you Tae.” You told him feeling bad for putting your problems on him. “I don’t mind at all, I want to help you so you won’t be stressed. Please let me help you y/n.” He softly begged you, knowing you’ll keep telling him no if he didn’t beg you. “Okay you can help. Thank you so much tae, I’m so grateful for you. I don’t deserve you sometimes.” He let out a tsk “y/n I love you to the moon and beyond. It makes me so happy knowing I can help you when you need it. If anyone deserves me it’s definitely you. Now I’ll be there in 10 minutes and I expect a big hug and kiss as soon as you open the door, okay princess?” He said and you let out a giggle nodding to yourself “okay my prince, I’ll be waiting. And thank you again.” You told him “you’re welcome princess. See you soon.”

Jungkook:

“Jagi are you almost done? My feet hurt” Jungkook pouted as you made one last alteration to the suit he was modeling for you “Yes baby I’m almost done, I just have to finish this and the you’re free to go.” You giggled at your big baby. He pouted the rest of time counting the minutes down until you were done “I know I offered to help and I like helping you, but I didn’t realize how long I would actually be standing for..” he spoke looking at you “Hey it’s not that bad, look I’m done!” You moved away from him and he let out a sigh of relief, he turned around and looked in the mirror that was behind him and smiled “y/n you know you always seem to amaze me everytime you do something. But right now I’m blown away! This looks amazing!” He smiled turing his body back and forth to get a good look all around. “Thank you kookie, that means a lot to me coming from you.” You sincerely told him wrapping your arms around his waste giving him a back hug, pressing a small kiss against his back. He turned in your arms and smiled down at you wrapping his own arms around you “why are you so cute jagi?!” He gushed squeezing you tightly and pressing kisses to the top of your head. You giggled and pulled away from him slightly to look up at him “You know I love you right kook?” He looked down at you “of course, and you know I love you right y/n?” He asked back, you smile and nodded “I love you so much kookie.” “I love you so much more y/n.” He leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to your lips, he gently pulled away and hugged you close “Now let’s me change out of this suit and let’s order take out and watch a movie.” He told you and you smiled “sounds good to me, I’ll order the food and be waiting for you in the living room.” You told him slowly walking away “be out soon baby.”

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caffeinetheory · 4 years

Note

Can I humbly request some fake dating Jasonette?

Okay fair warning I kinda went ham and this is long, it’s like ten pages but for you it was worth it, I hope you enjoy it <3<3<3 now without further adieu:

///

Jason was in dire need of a date for the upcoming Gala, why you might ask? Well someone wasn’t thinking and said they had a secret girlfriend, which didn’t exist. Now the whole family was happy he had finally found someone. Dick was the most persistent, the hopeless romantic he was.

Telling Diana about over lunch a 2 months before the big annual charity gala was either the best decision he made or one he would regret, only time would tell.

She laughed in his face at his stupidity, but was willing to help. She sent a text and rolled her eyes when she got a response a few minutes later, “My sister will do it, be prepared to meet her next week at your place,” and that was that. He wasn’t expecting to actually get a date from her but hey, if it worked then he’ll go with it. He had about 2 months to make it believable, but god why did it have to be an Amazon.

A knock on his apartment door at 3 a.m. was now how Jason would be meeting who ever Diana had convinced to do this “fake date” thing with him, so a 5”6’ women pushing herself into his apartment when the door was opened certainly woke him up.

“And who might you be?” the door closed behind him with a soft click, the woman was surveying the room with a judgemental look, ‘lovely’. She turned sharply to him, her distaste clear on her face, “Someone who lost a bet so I owe Diana a favor,” she visibly sighed and relaxed slightly, “I’m sorry, my name is Marinette Prince, but you can call me Mari, nice to meet you.” Mari held her hand to the bewildered Jason who hesitantly shook it, “Jason Todd but I'm going to assume you already knew that.”

And that was the rocky start to their relationship. Mari had been living on Themyscira for the last few years so she needed some time to get used to living in the rest of the world. To say she was ecstatic to be able to wear more modern fashion would be an understatement. Their first ‘date’ was in the fashion district a few days after she made herself at home in his apartment. Six hours after they started Mari was finally satisfied, and Jason could no longer feel his arms. They decided to eat dinner at one of the hole-in-the-walls on their way back to Jason’s place.

Neither knew how the conversation had gotten on the different costumes of the various heroes and villains but it had sent Mari off on a rant. Despite himself Jason was enjoying every word she said, every critique and every praise. To be fair there wasn’t as much praise was there was critique, but to say his ego wasn’t inflated when “one of the rare acceptable ones” was the Red Hood would be a straight up lie. It was the first time Mari was acting with little to no filter, and granted they hadn’t known each other long he could tell this was rare for her. He was finding himself proud that he was the one to get her to be open like that, why he couldn’t tell you but it did nonetheless.

-------------------------

The two had fallen into domestic life pretty quickly, maybe to quickly, but that didn’t matter. When Jason came home to a clean apartment and dinner being made by his ‘girlfriend’ he was surprisingly okay with it.

“How was your day?” Mari was placing two plates of something heavenly on the small table just outside of the kitchen. Was that table always there? “It was decent, yours?” he began to dig in while a drink was placed next to him and Mari took her seat across from him. “It was nice, I finally got around to cleaning this place up,” her hair was put in a pair of double buns as she wore some shorts and a tank top clearly having changed recently.

“You know you didn’t have to right?”

“I enjoy organizing and consider it a small thanks for helping me with shopping the other day and dealing with my rants,” she had a small smile on her face.

The rest of the night was spent showing Jason where she put everything. The number of guns didn't faze her but living surrounded by weapons he supposed that made sense. The organized first-aid kit was a god send though, on more ruined towels to stop the bleeding.

------------------------------

The next date Jason planned was a movie, it was Diana’s idea. He couldn’t figure out why taking Mari to an anniversary replaying of an animated superhero movie from almost ten years ago would be in her words “comedy gold”. That was until Mari saw the opening theme and let out a loud groan.

An hour and fifteen minutes later the credits start to roll and Mari is practically dragging him out of the theater. “This was Diana’s idea wasn’t it?!” Jason couldn’t help the chuckle escaping him, Diana was right this was golden, the only thing she got this heated about what the costumes but this felt more personal. “I swear to the gods, I hate that movie! Nothing was right, He’s like my brother! And I may have been young but I wasn’t STUPID?!” Mari realizes her misstep and quickly covered her mouth dropping Jason’s wrist making him stumble, “Well, M’Lady,” he got punched for that, “I am inclined to believe the totally historically accurate animated film,” she rolled her eyes at him, “It does explain a lot though, and lets just say you're not the only one with red suits in their past,” a wink and another punch in the arm and they left the theater a laughing mess leaning on each other so they wouldn’t fall over. “Oh you arse,” “You know you love me,” another light punch, this one with very little behind it, “Worth it!”

------------------------------

Their third date was more impulsive than the last one. It had been a tough week. For Jason his family was hounding him for details about his girl and the last case he helped with took more effort than he thought it would. Mari on the other hand had been working all week on commission (how Bruce Wayne found out about her she didn't want to know) sketches, she had to make close to ten outfits for the Gala in a month and a half, sure she could do it but the perfectionist in her meant very little sleep. She still had hers and Jason’s to make, not that he knew that yet.

That Saturday they found themselves at a small coffee shop Tim liked to rave about. It was homey place, and they both needed to get out of the house.

“You know if the replacement sees us you’re gonna have to talk about how we met-” a finger shushed him, Mari looked more dead than Tim did, she needed her coffee fix, anything else could wait.

“Shhhhh Coffee now, annoying family later,” her words were slightly slurred, she hadn’t slept in two days but she finished the sketches to be approved so that was a positive.

Once the once the vanilla and cinnamon coffee hit her system she was her joyful self again. Jason had gotten himself a honey chamomile tea, it always helped with the stress. What was originally supposed to be a quick in and out ended up with them spending most of the morning just chatting.

They talked about anything and everything. They had been living together for about 3 weeks now so they were leaning the other’s quirks. She finally told him what she was working on, and laughed as his face scrunched up hearing his adoptive fathers name, she had to admit it was kinda cute. Mari also came clean about needed his measurements so they could have matching outfits, she showed him the designs. Jason had to admit he was impressed, and noticing how they looked like something MDC would make he learned another thing about the girl with him. She sure was full of secrets.

The rest of the day after their lovely coffee ‘date’ was spent going to fabric stores getting the stuff she needed to make everyone's outfits. Each one had elements that hinted subtly to their alter egos and pasts while still have a consistent color scheme and accents that paired the couples.

Jason gained yet another layer of appreciation for the girl, what couldn't she do?

--------------------------------

Turns out taking her to the Gotham Botanical Gardens was a way better idea than Jason had originally thought it would be. The plants seemed to grow and perk up as she walked by. Her smile brighten up the whole room; as she twirled in a pale green sundress inspired by the keeper of the gardens Jason couldn’t help but smile as well. She really looked like a goddess in this light. He couldn’t be happier he helped bring that smile and joy to her face, she deserved the world. When he started thinking like that he couldn’t tell you but the idea this would end soon was one he avoided thinking about. Maybe there wouldn’t be an end, but only time would tell wouldn’t it?

Ivy sensed something was different in her precious gardens and went to investigate, her girlfriend followed to make sure on one got overly hurt. Both of them were shocked to see the plants blooming more than usual and just two people walking the gardens. The girl seemed to be making the pants so happy Ivy just had to talk with her, so she quietly made her was over to the young women hoping to not scare her. Harley made her way over to the former Robin, a little teasing was in order.

Yet another surprise from the former Ladybug he probably should have seen coming, Ivy adored the woman, insisting that she come more often to which Mari eagerly agreed complementing Ivy’s botanical knowledge the whole time. Suprisong himself he didn’t deny Harley’s tasing about his feelings for her, she really was something special wasn’t she?

-----------

When Mari found out Jason hadn’t seen all of the Star Wars movies she made him sit with her all weekend to watch them, he only agreed if they would watch all of Lord of the Rings and the Hobbit trilogy the next weeked.

Their next two weekends were now booked and snack runs were made. Jason made the Living room into a palace of blankets and pillows while Mari prepared snacks and drinks. They wouldn’t be getting up for awhile.

When episode 3’s credits were rolling Mari made an offhand comment about how hot Anakin was and how she felt bad for his fate, well Jason felt a little envious. Something about misunderstood, dark haired boys was Mari’s type apparently. The subtle hints were lost on him but they enjoyed the rest of the films. They skipped the newer trilogy for time and so they had something to watch in theaters.

Mari fell asleep on his arm mid way through episode 6 and Jason couldn’t bring himself to wake her, he fell asleep as the end credits rolled. Both had a content smile on their faces as they dreamed of fantasy worlds long ago and far far away.

--------

Mari had a surprise for Jason, “Come on Jay, get out of bed already,” she was pulling him out of bed on a tuesday, TUESDAY!

With much prodding and poking Mari was able to get them out of the apartment by 8, she had a surprise for him and refused to tell him what it was. “Just trust me it will be worth it,” she handed him his helmet and got on his bike. He found himself not minding someone else driving his bike for once.

The wind was blowing fast as they left the center of the city, they were in the outskirts in a more smalltown area of the city. It was like a whole different world like they had gone to a place untouched by the corruption of Gotham propper. They finally slowed down and parked in front of an older building. Secret Cave the sign read, no way, did she really go out of her way to take him here.

Taking off her helmet she shook her head to loosen her ponytail, he took this chance to really look at her. She was wearing a red v-neck under one of his older leather jackets and some dark blue jeans. She had a small black bag what went with her combat boots, both had flowers embroidered on them, he had to admit she was beautiful.

“Come on Jay, I got a surprise for you,” she was pulling his hand now as they entered the spacious store, books covered every surface and there were rows upon rows of selves. It was almost hard to move, not wanting to disturb the books but they had made it to one of the small sitting areas, “Wait here I’ll be right back.” Jaso found himself obeying and looking at the books in the area, lots of classic literature in fancy leather bound editions and some of the quintessential plays everyone had to read at some point in their original language, this was heaven for a book nerd like him.

20 Minutes later a hand covered his eyes, “Guess who,” her laugh melted his heart, “I don’t know, maybe… one Mari” he scooped her up in a hug, “I love you so much,” before he could realize what he had said, “I know you big nerd, I love you too.”

When he finally put her down, the blush was on both of their faces at their confessions, ‘they didn’t really mean that did they’ she gave him a thick parcel. “Open it later big guy, but consider it a thank you for everything.” her blush seemed to get worse but so was his, maybe it was the room, yeah it had to be right? “I should be the one thanking you but okay…” he trailed off not quite knowing where to go with this conversation, there was so many things he wanted to say to her but he couldn’t get the words out of his throat. Unknown to him Mari was in the same boat, after a beat of silence, “Want to go to the café next door than browse some more?” “Absolutely.”

They left the shop, hand in hand, and spent the rest of the afternoon together exploring the surrounding area and exploring the store, the gift still untouched for now.

When he would eventually open it a few days later he found red leather bound copies of all his favorites with a J engraved into the cover. These were something he’d treasure for as long as he lived.

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It was the last weekend before the Gala, all the outfits were done and fitted so mari had free time, and Jason had cleared the day to spend with his ‘girlfriend’, were the quotes still there? Were they something more now? Hopefully he’d find out tonight.

It was Roy and Diana’s idea. A dinner at an upscale restaurant, the Ocelot came to mind so he got reservations for the two of them. Diana insisted on covering it, and Roy made sure he had the perfect suit. To say Jason was nervous would be an understatement but it only got worse when Mari stepped out of her room in a floor length dress that made her look like a straight up greek goddess, she was stunning and that felt like an understatement. Her hair was lightly curled and was flowing down her back, a small golden flowers rested atop her head in a crown shape, he was glad Roy had helped him get a suite that made him look mature but he felt he still paled in comparison to her beauty.

They had a lovely dinner, they had gotten a table secluded in the back. It started with nervous and awkward conversation that quickly melted away into the easy conversation they usually shared, it was one of the nicest dates they had ever been on. It felt like a real date with no pressures to fake something, somehow this fake relationship had turned into a real true and meaningful one.

The ‘couple’ was so engrossed with each other they hadn’t noticed the spying eyes that watched from different areas of the restaurant. There were at least 16 different people watching their date if not more but if they noticed they didn’t care. The only thing on their mind was the person in front of them.

As they were leaving the dining room they had eaten in, Jason finally found the courage to ask, “Does this mean-” Mari cut him off with a kiss on the cheek and a tighter grip on his hand, “Absolutely Jay, I wouldn’t trade this for the world.”

Small cheers could be heard in the room as they had left, it had been a success!

-----------

It was finally the night of the gala, Jason and his official girlfriend Marientte would be making their debut to the public. To say it was stressful would be putting it lightly, all the other outfits had been dropped off at the Wayne Manor the day before so that was at least taken care of. They had two hours before the Gala would start, so just over an hour to get ready. The apartment was a mess, making sure they had everything.

Jason’s suit was a dark crimson color with a midnight blue tie to tie it in with the rest of his family. The intricate beading and embroidery shined and became seen when the light hit it right, his hair was fluffy as usual but more kept than usual, the white streak pushed to the side with the rest of his hair. He looked like a proper gentleman thanks to his lady. She had a floor length ball gown that made her look like a princess. The bodice was the same midnight blue as his tie and had off the shoulder sleeves that were see through. The skirt that flowed from her his was made with the same crimson red with balck beading and embroidery in a variety of patterns. The apple blossoms were the most obvious and they traveled up her bodices in a blood red color that was made more clear in the right light, she wore black greek sandless underneath her dress and her hair was pinned to the side, a golden flower crown that Diana insisted she wore atop her head, if she looked like a goddess when they went to dinner, she was simply ethereal now, words could do no justice for how stunning she looked right now. To think she made this all by hand was beyond him.

Hand in hand they entered the ballroom, all eyes were on them. The camera flashes made them sparkle as they made their way down the carpet. Every reporter wanted to know everything about them and their outfits, this was the first time Jason had been seen at one of these actually looking happy and not coming with his family. It was the talk of everyone there.

“Thank the gods we finally made it inside,” Mari was already pulling him to a place she could get a drink. “You still need to introduce me properly to your family you know.”

“Thanks for reminding me, you know I’m sure you have met them all already.”

“That’s not the point Jay!” she hit his arm softly then picked up two glasses of champagne, “Cheers?”

“Cheers” they clinked their glasses and chugged them down. It was going to be quite the night.

They had finally made the rounds to all of his family and the important people of the gala and 2 hours in they had a moment to themselves.

“This is why I avoided these for so long.”

“I know right, to many fake pleasantries if you ask me.”

“At least we are in this together,” both said at the same time, causing them to burst into a fit of giggles.

“God I could kiss you right now.”

“Then why don’t you,” without giving Jason a chance to backtrack Marientte pulled him down to her and locked their lips in a passionate kiss. It was pure bliss, something they both needed and longed for and finally had. It felt right, like home. “Took you long enough,” Jason had a smirk as they pulled away, the applause didn't reach their ears as they pulled each other into another one this time less needy but soft, they felt whole in each others arms, this was what they had been missing for so long and now that they had it, they wouldn’t give it up for the world.

///

Asks are still open, don’t hesitate to ask!!

#my wrting #jasonette #fake dating au #follower give away #ask prompt #long post #i really like how this came out #not gonna lie #we be proud tonight #hit me up with more promots please #maribat

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johannas-motivational-insults · 4 years

Note

I for one was seething while Ms assh... Weaver basically confirmed to her designed punching bag that she keeps her around because she's a decent emotional support for Adora, so... wanna go even deeper and stab the reader s'more?

Oh I love stabbing the reader. And I love this scene so I’ll do the whole fuckin’ thing. (Commentary is bolded.)

This scene really is heartbreaking. It was easy for me to write, though, because Catra and (Shadow) Weaver have a very particular dynamic that I vibe with. It's such a pivotal scene for Catra too, because it confirms her fears that her success would be met with pushback and that Weaver really doesn’t love her or care about her at all. It makes her feel dehumanized both in the sense of being treated as subhuman and being treated as a tool. Something to be kept around only so long as it’s useful, discarded the second it’s not. This is the moment when she learns for certain just how little she means to Weaver and it’s painful to read.

*Content Warning for abuse*

The sound of keys in the front door makes Catra frown in confusion as she unloads the last of her books. No one is ever home this early. Even when Weaver doesn’t have any sponsored clubs or other teacher bullshit to deal with, 3:15 is the earliest she ever gets home.

But Catra’s always had sensitive ears, and those are definitely Ms. Weaver’s footsteps crossing the floor. When the woman pokes her head into the kitchen, no doubt to investigate the smell, Catra gives her a jerky nod. “Went to work after all?”

“No, I had some errands to run,” Weaver replies flatly. “Lying around all day like a lazy sack of meat doesn’t come naturally to me.”

Me @ Weaver:

Bitch she’s baking cookies, she’s clearly not lying around all day. Why you gotta be like that?

“Yeah, me neither,” mutters Catra, deflecting the obvious implication.

“I have something for you,” says Weaver, and Catra can’t help but look up in surprise. Weaver tosses her something and she instinctively moves to catch it. Just before it hits her hands, she realizes what it is and her stomach drops. Fingering the rough edges of the rolled up newspaper, she tries to breathe steadily as she forces her eyes up to meet Weaver’s. (Oh gotta love that trauma response.) The woman looks more unimpressed than predatory right now, but Catra knows better than anyone how that can change at the drop of a hat.

“Looks like your little ploy paid off,” she remarks.

Sighing, Catra sets the paper down on the table. “I told you, it wasn’t a ploy. Just a play.”

“I see. And I suppose the fact that this article was written by a close friend of yours is a complete coincidence.”

LOL clearly Weaver knows nothing about Entrapta if she thinks she could be bribed into writing something she doesn’t believe.

“I had nothing to do with that,” Catra denies swiftly. When Weaver’s expression doesn’t change, she insists, “Really, I swear.”

Weaver’s head tips the slightest bit, that familiar predatory tinge seeping into her eyes and voice. “And why should I believe you?”

Catra huffs, arms crossing defensively over her chest. “Why would I do something I know would get me in trouble?”

“I don’t know, Catra, you tell me,” says Weaver, slowly closing the gap between them. “It’s not as though you’ve been doing that your entire life.”

Me @ Weaver:

Like okay, it’s kinda true. But still.

Tensing more with every step Weaver takes, Catra raises her hands innocently, trying and failing not to shift her weight to her back foot. Not to give ground or show her fear. (This is making me super uncomfortable so I’m probably just gonna keep memeing at you all. Yes, I am aware that this is my fault. No, I am not sorry.) “Look, Entrapta has really strong opinions, and they’re always backed up with facts. I couldn’t just plant the idea in her head to write something like this.”

“Facts, you say?” muses Weaver. She reaches past Catra in a very deliberate show of invading her space, and Catra can’t help but suck a quick breath in through her teeth. But Weaver doesn’t touch her. All she does is pick up the paper and turn it over in her hands as though she is deep in thought. Then the motion stops, her eyes snapping up sharply. “So you agree with her.”

Weaver @ Catra:

“That’s not what I said,” protests Catra, her exasperation showing through her tenuous attempts at staying calm. “Stats are facts, not who deserves what awards or whatever. It’s not like I even care about that.”

Weaver shakes her head, her chuckle positively dripping with condescension. “Oh, now I know you’re lying.”

She is. She really is. And the fact that Weaver knows how much Catra cares and wants praise and approval and still denies her that makes me want to slap a bitch.

Also I just realized how closely this scene parallels the one in 1x04 and that actually wasn’t intentional but I’ll take it, clearly I’ve got the spirit of their relationship down.

“No, I-”

The newspaper smacks Catra across the cheek and she yelps in shock and pain, hand flying to her mouth.

It shouldn’t be a shock, not after 14 years of this shit. It still is, every time.

Ugh, ow.

“Enough of your lip,” hisses Weaver. “You know better than to contradict me.”

Hate is not a strong enough word for how I feel about this woman. Unfortunately there are too many people just like her. I’ve noticed the audience particularly hates this incarnation of Shadow Weaver and I think it’s because when she’s stripped of her magic the tactics she’s left with are far too familiar. I feel the same way.

Catra’s tongue swipes along her stinging lip, checking for blood. It comes back clean, but the lack of physical damage does nothing to calm the quiet rage boiling up inside of her. Weaver has never treated her with an ounce of respect, and now she has the gall to hit her with a rolled up newspaper like she’s a fucking animal. Subhuman. (I mean this feeling comes straight out of Demons but with Catra being human in this au it’s... not worse, definitely not, but it hits differently.) Catra’s fists clench and her chest puffs out as she straightens up to her full height (even if it’s nothing on Weaver).

“Do not touch me,” growls Catra, her voice low and dangerous in a way few people have ever heard it. “I’m an adult, that’s officially illegal now.”

Oh, you sweet summer child.

“Oh, you want to talk about the law?” counters Weaver, sounding far too calm in comparison. It just makes Catra angrier. And maybe a little scared. Somehow Weaver always makes her feel out of control, which never ceases to remind her who is in control. (Oof.) “I am under no obligation to let you live here, Catra, let alone at a significant discount. I do that out of the kindness of my heart. (LOL the what now?) Would you rather I throw you out in the streets like the stray you are?”

Yay for another insinuation that Catra is an animal. Nice going, Weaver.

Also, that is one of the meanest fucking lines I’ve ever written for Shadow Weaver and that’s saying something.

Those words hit Catra right in the gut, a blow far more painful than any physical one. They trigger a flood of other words that always seem to find her, stick to her no matter how she tries to slough them off, prove them wrong. Stray, nuisance, brat, worthless, unwanted, unloved...

But she was loved once. She was.

Oh boy, get ready for PAIN. So I wasn’t orginally planning to write this flashback but then I got a Very Bad Idea and I love torturing my readers (and myself) so this happened.

Kneeling in front of the open door, Papi opened his arms for a goodbye hug. When Catra stepped into them, she felt his smile against the side of her head. “Te amo, mija.”

“Yo también te amo, Papi,” said Catra, tiny arms tightening around his neck with a proud grin. He hadn’t taught her that one, she’d pieced it together on her own.

Papi chuckled in surprise and approval, ruffling her wild hair. “You’re a genius, little one. You know that?”

“Yep!” she answered, beaming with the completely earnest confidence only a precocious three year-old can muster.

Baby Catra’s behavior may be slightly inspired by my highly intelligent four year-old niece, who is also biracial with a multilingual father.

A couple playful taps of the horn from the driveway interrupted them, making Papi chuckle once again. Pulling away enough to look Catra in the eye, he winked conspiratorially. “Better not keep Mommy waiting. You know how she is.”

Catra shook her head soberly in agreement. Mommy was notoriously impatient, a speed demon on the road. Catra loved driving with her, laughing like a maniac from the backseat whenever she’d swerve and cuss out the idiots in her way. Those cackles never failed to make Mommy shoot Catra a smile in the rearview mirror, her transitory rage melting away in an instant at the sound. Still, it was never good being on the receiving end of that impatience.

(Catra’s mother is not at all inspired by my sister, however. She drives like a fucking granny.)

Papi quickly pecked Catra on the cheek before standing and waving goodbye, giving an appreciative nod to the babysitter as he pulled the door shut behind him.

He didn’t close it loudly or anything, but no sound is louder in Catra’s nightmares. She never saw either of them again.

“Answer me, Catra,” Ms. Weaver demands sternly.

That was what she had. And this is where she ended up.

Yeah, no wonder this version of Catra just assumes anything good in her life will be taken away. In some ways it might be worse than being Adora starting with nothing, because not only does Adora not remember what she lost in infancy (which wasn’t great to begin with), she has been steadily moving up in the world since. Catra’s had the opposite trajectory.

Suddenly noticing the tears rolling down her cheeks, Catra swipes them away with the back of her hand. Her throat hurts too much to swallow, so she doesn’t even bother trying to settle her voice. Her weakness is already on full display, anyway. Shaking her head, she whispers hoarsely, “No, Ms. Weaver.”

“Good,” Weaver says with finality as Catra sniffles, blinking back more tears. “You still live under my roof, and you will abide by my rules or face the consequences, just like anyone else.”

Oh boy, that’s a little too close for comfort. Again with this version of SW feeling especially despicable to the audience because it’s so familiar.

Just like anyone else. Sure.

Yeah you’re right Catra, go off.

As Weaver starts toward her room, Catra half-heartedly tosses a hand with an empty, resigned sigh. “What rules did I break this time?”

Weaver turns back, her expression dangerous, but Catra can’t muster the enthusiasm for fear anymore. Her eyes are still burning, voice tight with emotion as she confesses, “I’ve tried, Ms. Weaver. I-” Her voice cracks and she shakes her head, pinching her brow in shame. “I never wanted you to hate me.”

brb crying in the club

K but honestly the helplessness here is just heartbreaking. And it’s just like in canon. We saw, Catra did try to be a good soldier and make Shadow Weaver like her, but it was a lost cause. I mean I didn’t pull this dialogue directly from 2x06 but it’s a similar flavor for sure.

When Catra dares to look back up she finds that Weaver’s expression has softened slightly, though she still looks annoyed. “I never said I hate you,” she says, the uncharacteristic gentleness catching Catra off guard. “You’re just more trouble than you’re worth most of the time.”

It shouldn’t be a comfort. But it is, anyway. It is. Catra sniffles again, dipping her head to wipe her eyes on her shoulders.

The fact that this is a comforting answer to Catra is so fucked up and tragic but so befitting of their relationship.

“Though I will admit, you do have a way with Adora,” concedes Weaver, her tone very nearly impressed. “Not everyone can handle someone like that and keep them on task. I’ve had plenty come through my classroom.”

Wow, so we’re just being casually ableist now? Nice.

My thoughts exactly, Catra.

...Ableist and pragmatic.

Catra snorts under her breath, shaking her head as her eyes fall to the floor. How did she never put this together before? “That’s why you’re letting me stay.”

This truly is a gut punch moment. She thought maybe Weaver actually had a bit of affection for her or was invested in her future after all (which tracks for Catra because she is mean to the people she likes) and that’s why she let her stay, but no. As usual, it’s all about Adora. That is not going to bode well for the resentment moving forward.

“She does badly with her routine being disrupted, and she’s come to rely on you,” states Weaver, tipping her head in acknowledgement.

“Plus she’d hate you if you kicked me out,” Catra adds pointedly.

Weaver smiles, all teeth. “It is better for everyone this way, wouldn’t you say?”

Better for you, you mean.

“Sure,” mutters Catra. When that response earns her a look, she corrects herself. “Yes, Ms. Weaver.”

Eyes narrowed into slits, Weaver warns her, “Make no mistake, Catra. Adora would manage if you left us. If your behavioral issues begin to outweigh your usefulness, I reserve the right to evict you.” She cocks an expectant eyebrow. “Am I understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” mumbles Catra.

Poor Catra, I just...

“I care very much about Adora, and I won’t have you dragging her down with you.”

“I remember,” Catra says numbly, picking at her nails and avoiding Weaver’s gaze.

Ooooooooooof. Why do I insist on hurting myself so much with all these canon parallels?

Studying her intently for a moment, Weaver concludes, “Yes, I’m sure you do.” Then she turns and leaves without another word.

Well that was lovely. Anybody else want to reach through the screen and throttle a bitch? ‘Cause I sure do.

This scene doesn’t cause an immediate reaction on Catra’s part but it definitely moves her to a place where she’s very aware of her role and how useless it is to try to change it (at least in this house), and that makes everything a little more volatile. She’s not at a breaking point yet but she’s getting closer, it certainly takes the wind out of her sails a bit. She will recover in the short term because she is Catra and her stubbornness makes her very resilient, but it weighs her down and eventually she is going to snap. Y’all will love that, I’m sure. ;)

#ask games #director's commentary #spop #catradora #fanfic #hail mary #writing #asks #anon #catra and shadow weaver

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iwillhaveamoonbase · 4 years

Text

Replay ch. 1

Did I start yet ANOTHER AU? Yes, I did. Callum, Ezran, Soren, and Claudia run a popular YouTube channel while Rayla is a lawyer that Callum asks to model for him. Plans for the fic to be rated E down the line.

--------------------------------------------

Callum smiled as he sat in front of the camera, Ezran, Soren and Claudia to his side. “Hello, everyone and welcome to the first video of our new channel. My name is Callum Evans.”

“I’m Ezran Williams.”

“Soren Ricci,” Soren winked at the camera.

“And I’m Claudia Ricci.”

Callum nodded. “And we are going to be trying spicy snacks.” Soren and Claudia immediately paled. “We saw the video the Try Guys did and me and Ezran said ‘there’s no way half of that is that hot.’”

“Nope,” Ezran shook his head.

“And I know what you’re thinking, ‘what do you four know about spice?’ Well, first, Ezran and I are actually half-siblings. Our mom and aunt are half-Thai and half-Korean, and if you know anything about Thai or Korean food, it’s really spicy. My dad was mostly German and Irish, but he spent a lot of summers in India and the Sichuan area of China due to his parents’ work as translators. So, there’s that spicy food again.”

“And my dad is half-Jamaican and half-African-American. If you’ve never had Jamaican food, it uses a lot of herbs and spices to make everything on the flavor profile. My grandmother, in connecting to her roots, started getting really into traditional African cuisine which tends to involve a lot of chili and warming spices. Also, our aunt is married to a lovely woman from the Democratic Republic of the Congo, so we’ve had lot of Congolese cooking as well. The ultimate comfort food in our house is probably a West African spicy peanut soup.”

“If you’ve never had it, go make some right now,” Callum nodded.

Soren gulped. “Claudia and I are terrible with spicy food. I am also mildly lactose intolerant so I really hope there is no cheese here.”

“Hate it,” Claudia said. “I like a good cake or ice cream.”

“Clauds is super into dessert.”

Ezran smiled. “As am I. My favorite flavor profile is sweet. I got our mom’s sweet tooth. While Callum’s got a thing for spice.”

Callum nodded. “My step-dad, Ezran’s dad, not only grew-up on Jamaican and traditional African dishes, he also grew-up with Brazilian neighbors who would bring traditional Brazilian barbeque, called churrasco, to all the neighborhood cook-outs. Well, let’s stop talking about it. Let’s get down to this. We have all ten items the Try Guys used-”

Claudia gasped. “Please tell me you didn’t get those rock candies!?”

“Of course, I did!” Callum set all the items on the table in the box he had put them before pulling out the candies.

Soren groaned. “NOOO. We’re gonna die.”

Ezran sniffed. “No, it’s a psychological thing where your brain is saying it’s on fire.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

Callum smiled. “Let’s do this! First,” Callum took out the Cheetos, “Flaming Hot Cheetos. The Try Guys didn’t use the chili lime ones, which I find a shame, because there’s more flavor in those even though they aren’t quite as spicy.”

“I agree,” Ezran said as he opened the bag. “Chili lime is a classic flavor combination. Put it on mango and I am pretty happy.” The bag was passed and they all tried one. “Not spicy at all.”

Callum ate another. “Nope. They’re good, but there’s no real heat there.”

Soren groaned. “This is perfect for me. It’s got a bit of heat, but it’s not overwhelming.”

Claudia nodded. “I agree. I don’t want to go hotter.”

Callum shook his head. “For those of you who are wondering, Soren and Claudia are siblings and childhood friends of me and Ezran. Their dad and our dad are best friends. But, when they come over for dinner, our family has to seriously downgrade the spice level or else these two freak out.”

“And,” Ezran interrupted, “when we go to their place, we have to bring our own hot sauce. Well, that’s mostly Callum. He carries hot sauce in his bag.”

“That’s because mango chutney doesn’t travel well.”

“See, mango chutney is almost going into too hot territory for me. At least, the brand Callum buys is.”

“That’s because I buy authentic and get it shipped directly from a company that makes traditional chutneys here in the States. Next snack; Takis Fuego.” Callum held up the bag. “This time, we got the chili lime!”

“Chili lime!” Ezran pumped both his arms up.

Callum opened the bag and took one, passing it to Ezran before moving it on to Soren and Claudia. “What I taste most is that lime flavor, which is fine with me. I want it hotter, but I love lime, so I’m not complaining.”

“It’s not bad,” Claudia affirmed. “I actually do like this. Like you said, that lime is what’s really hitting, but the spicy is there.”

Ezran hummed. “Can I have the rest of the bag when we’re done?”

“Sure.”

Soren blinked a bit. “I think it’s spicier than you guys are giving it credit, but it’s pretty good. I would take that lime flavor over the chili.”

“It adds to it Soren.”

“Chili is pain!”

“Life is pain!” Callum retorted.

Claudia rolled her eyes. “Not another ‘Princess Bride’ reference. You watched it once and you wouldn’t stop quoting it.”

“Inconceivable.”

Ezran raised a brow. “‘You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.’” Callum laughed, high-fiving Ezran as Soren and Claudia watched on.

“Nerds,” Claudia and Soren sang out.

“Proud of it,” came Ezran and Callum’s reply.

“OK,” Ezran said. “What’s next?”

Callum looked at his notes. “Pulparindo! Tamarind candy.” Callum handed each of them their own packet. “It’s kind of like a fruit leather.”

They went through all the snacks, Soren and Claudia progressively begging for milk as they went. “MILK!” Soren gasped on the Carolina Reaper jerky.

“You’re lactose intolerant, Soren,” Claudia coughed.

“MILDLY.”

“You guys got soy milk?”

Callum nodded. “I keep some in the fridge in case Aunt Amaya comes over.” Soren ran for the fridge in Callum’s house. They weren’t planning on saying anything if the channel continued, but they were currently in Callum’s father’s childhood home. His grandparents rented it out to him for school because they had moved into a retirement community. He had completely renovated it and now had this room designed just for these videos. “You OK, Soren? We’ve got one last item, the Sonoran Spice Company’s Carolina Reaper Pebbles.”

“NOOOOO!” came Soren’s scream from the kitchen.

Ezran started laughing, taking a handful of the leftover Takis. “Come on, Soren! You’ve come this far.”

Claudia looked close to sobbing as she looked at the snacks on the table. “It’s so hot. I can’t taste my own tongue.”

“You can’t taste your tongue, Clauds.”

“SHUT UP.”

Ezran laughed at the two as Callum snuck a few Takis for himself. “For those of you at home, there is no denying that that jerky is hot. Callum and I just crave the heat while Soren and Claudia do not.”

Soren finally came back, sighing as he looked at the camera. “I’m gonna die.”

Callum opened the candy, pouring a few into his hands and passing it over to the others. Ezran took more while Soren and Claudia each only took two. “That’s all you want?” Callum asked.

“YES,” came the combined response from Soren and Claudia. The four put it in their mouths together. Immediately, Soren and Claudia freaked out, reaching for the white bread Callum had brought them earlier. Callum and Ezran coughed a bit, but, for the most part, they had built up a tolerance that didn’t make it as painful as if they had gone right to the candy.

Ezran nodded. “It’s hot. No denying it. But, I think the jerky was hotter.”

Callum nodded as well. “No doubt, jerky was a bit hotter. But I picked the candy last because of how the Try Guys reacted to it. I was wondering if maybe it was the hottest thing.”

“It’s too hot,” Claudia said around a mouthful of bread. “It’s like torture.” Soren whimpered in response, gulping more of his soy milk.

“Well, I guess that’s all the time we got. Please subscribe to our channel as we continue to, most likely, eat food or, maybe just do whatever we want. ‘Til next time.”

Soren turned to Callum. “Why do you get to do the sign-off?”

“Because this was my idea.”

“You almost killed me!”

--------------------------------

Rayla snorted as she walked into the cheese shop with her coworkers. Maybe it was Runaan’s influence, but she was a bit of a cheese snob. Scottish food was mostly friend, but Runaan had grown up in England and spent a few years in France, leading to strong feelings about what made a good cheese, but she had not been impressed with any of the cheeses her coworkers considered ‘good.’ “I’m telling you, you have to go to an actual cheesemonger. The grocery is not good enough. At least go to a delicatessen.”

“Rayla, we’re lawyers. We don’t have time to go to a cheesemonger and have them select a variety of cheeses for us.”

“We do blue sky, fraud. We have time.” Rayla walked in, making sure her suit was still well-pressed. She didn’t like a wrinkled suit when she paid good money to get it dry-cleaned. When they looked around, they saw a group of four at a table, several cameras around them and a few people also there. Her cheesemonger, Marcos, was talking to them. She saw a jar of one of her favorites, Meredith Dairy Marinated Goat, on the table. “The kind they have on the table? It’s really good. Spreads amazingly on bread.”

One of the guys at the table, a young man with green eyes looked over and did a double-take. She made eye contact, slightly startled by just how green his eyes were. The rest of the table looked over at the group, a few jaws hanging open. Marcos smiled over at her, walking over. “Rayla! Sorry, we’re filming a video right now. Did you want to get your usual?”

“That’ll work. I was hoping to convert my coworkers to actual decent cheese because if I went to one more office party where someone brought an unaged cheddar and no other options, I was going to lose my mind.”

“Got it. Let me go get that cheese for you.”

Rayla’s coworker raised a brow. “Now what?”

“We go back to the office and try it. Because once it gets home, it’s not leaving my apartment unless it’s part of my lunch.” Rayla walked around the shop, ignoring the video going on until she heard some hissing. She turned her head, making eye contact with the boy from before again. He gulped, walking forward. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of her coworkers, Kasef, glare at him. “Back off, Kasef,” she muttered to herself.

“Hey,” the guy stuttered a bit as he made it to her.

“Hello,” she answered. His eyes went wider, probably at her distinctly Scottish accent. “Yes, my accent is real. I grew up in Aberdeen, Scotland. Can I help you?”

The boy flushed. “Yes, actually. My name is Callum Evans. I’m an artist and I would love to paint you.”

Rayla tilted her head. It was a unique come-on. “What’s that video your doing? Art?”

“YouTube. It’s a thing I do with my brother and my childhood friends. Being an artist isn’t the most lucrative thing if you don’t do graphic design. I do commissions and try to sell my art, but there’s always low points. YouTube helps off-set that.”

“Fair. YouTubers don’t really have a good reputation.”

“I know. We’re not involved in any of that drama or crazy stuff going on. Claudia does make-up, but, she mostly sticks within our circle of food YouTubers.”

“Mostly food?”

“Mostly food.”

Rayla nodded. “How do I know you’re an artist?”

Callum reached for his phone. “Here’s my Instagram and a couple of my sketches that I haven’t posted yet.” He handed her the phone for her to look through.

“You sure you trust me with your phone?”

“Not really, but I’m a stranger asking to draw you. Some level of give and take has to happen here.”

“I agree.” Rayla went through his art, humming as she saw the variety of subjects, though he tended to focus on people. There were a lot of pictures of the same three women. “You like drawing women?”

“That’s my mom, my aunt, and my aunt’s wife. You’ll also see pictures of my grandmothers and Claudia.” Rayla looked closely at a few of the pictures. She could see the family resemblance between him and some of the women, particularly in the jawline and cheekbones.

She paused on a picture of one of the women he looked like and another one of the three he drew often. They were smiling at each other, flushes on their cheeks. “This picture is beautiful.”

“Thanks. That was at their engagement party.”

“I’m sold.”

“Really?” Callum asked, looking like he couldn’t believe she would say yes. She couldn’t believe it either.

“I have four parents. My biological parents are bodyguards for a member of the royal family and were travelling a lot so I was raised by their best friends, Runaan and Ethari. I got a lot of teasing as a kid for having two dads. If you can draw these two as unabashedly in love as you do, I’m sold on you as a person. I’m Rayla Burrows.” She stuck out her head, giving a slight smile as a he took it. “You have a decent grip.”

“My step-dad taught me how to do a good handshake. Can I have your number so we can plan this?”

“Do you have a studio?”

“Yes…in my house.”

Rayla paused. “Would it bother you if I asked someone I know to come?”

“Not at all. Whatever makes you comfortable.” They exchanged numbers and Callum walked off, looking back at her every few moments. Marcos finally came back with her cheese, smiling. As she walked out of the shop with her coworkers, she cast one last look at the group. Callum Evans…interesting.

#rayllum #rayllum fanfic #tdp #the dragon prince #au #moonbase fanfics #replay

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nightlight9 · 4 years

Text

For the People, I Give Myself to You

Themes: Arranged Marriage; Wedding; Medieval

Rating: G

Summary: This was never what Derek wanted, never what his parents wanted for any of their children. But this is the best thing that he can do to help the kingdom, and he’s proud that he can support his people in this way. He just hopes, with every fiber of his being, that Prince Stilinski will turn out to be a decent husband.

AO3

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“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Laura tells him for the forth time since she pushed her way into his room. Derek ignores her, focusing on making sure that his cravat is straight. Smacking at his hands, Laura reaches out to smooth the fabric herself. “I’m serious, Derek. Just say the word and I’ll call the whole thing off.” Despite the quiver in her voice, Derek doesn’t believe her. It’s not that he doubts that she would fight everyone for him if he asked, because he knows his sister better than anyone and knows that she would without hesitating. But this is something that has to happen. For them, and for their people.

“I don’t mind,” he says finally. He can’t even say for sure if he’s being honest. On one hand, this was never what Derek wanted, never what his parents wanted for any of their children. On the other hand, this is the best thing that he can do to help the kingdom, and he’s proud that he can support his people in this way.

Pulling away from Laura so that he doesn’t have to see how her lips pinch together, Derek turns and examines himself in the mirror. Even with the unease making his stomach clench, Derek can admit that he looks good. The suit he’s wearing was designed and created specifically for this moment, its fabric rich and new brushing against his skin. The color, a deep emerald detailed with silver thread, makes his eyes startlingly bright. Puffing out his chest, Derek hazards a smile. These are his families colors and he will wear them with pride.

Laura catches his gaze in the mirror. “You look really good, Der,” she says finally, tucking her chin against his shoulder. Her voice is soft and tinged with a sadness that Derek understands all too well. Without her having to say it, Derek knows that Laura is thinking about their parents, about how they should be here. His own sadness mirrors hers perfectly, grief born from losing them so recently and so unexpectedly. He wishes, more than anything, that they were here. Their father, a boisterous man with a bright smile and brighter heart, would help Derek get ready. His smile would be wide and proud, and he would lighten the mood with his jokes and sincerity. Their mother would be busy making sure that everything was perfectly in place and ready for the ceremony (something that Laura should be doing now instead of staying at Derek’s side). She still would have made time to see him though, adjusting his collar and kissing his cheek gently, tears threatening to ruin her makeup.

Derek likes to think that they both would be proud of him for what he’s doing. At least, he hopes that they would be. Doing this without them is almost harder than doing it at all, which says something considering that Derek is a hopeless romantic who always dreamed of marrying for love. But this is for his family and his people. And there is nothing that Derek loves more than those two things.

Someone knocks on the door, two courteous thwacks before it’s pushed inward, breaking up the moment between the two siblings. Anders sticks his head in, looking apologetic. He had been on the council with their parents, watched Derek and Laura grow into the people they are today, and then pledged allegiance to Laura after their parents were killed. He knows, probably more than most of the council, how hard of a day this is.

“My apologies,” Anders says, stepping just inside the door so that he can bow at them respectfully. Laura tried to break him of that habit years ago, but finally gave up when every effort was met with a smile and more polite bowing. “I hate disrupting your time together, but everything is in place and the guests are waiting.”

Laura’s mouth pinches together. Unable to help it, Derek reaches out and pulls her into a tight hug, not caring if it wrinkles his suit or her gown. When he pulls back, Derek does his best to pretend he doesn’t see the tears gathered at the corner of her lashes as he turns to Anders. Standing straight with his head held high, Derek’s voice doesn’t quiver when he tells him, “Okay. I’m ready.”

Bowing again, Anders turns and leads the siblings out of the room. As soon as the doors fall shut behind them, the guards waiting there take their posts at the end of the party. Derek pays them no mind. Having grown up in the grand manor, he’s used to being tailed by guards. They are as familiar to him as the hallway they’re walking down, and in this moment Derek can’t help but be thankful for their steady presence.

“I will go into the hall first with King Stilinski at my side,” Laura says, her tone that of a queen. “I will thank everyone for gathering here for the occasion, give a small speech to mark the day, and then I will formally introduce you. Once you’ve joined me at the front of the hall, King Stilinski will call for the prince to join us. Then Master Finstock will conduct the ceremony. Afterwards I will give a closing remark, you will walk out with your husband, and everyone will adjourn to the ballroom for dinner and dancing. You need not worry about making a speech yourself; it is not expected of you to do so, even at the reception later. However, you will be called for a dance with the prince. Afterwards, you both may retire whenever you please, though it would be nice if you stayed for a little while to enjoy the party.”

Derek takes a deep breath, ignoring how shaky his exhale is. This is the right thing to do, he reminds himself. It doesn’t mater that he has never met Prince Stilinski before. This is what needs to be done.

Laura reaches out and grips his elbow, pulling him to a halt on the side of the hallway. “Remember what I said earlier,” she says, voice fierce. Her eyes glow inhuman red, a testament to how much she means this. “One word, that’s all I need.”

Inclining his head, Derek smiles. For the first time all day, the smile feels real. “I know. Really Laura, I’m okay. This is what is right, and I am honored to be able to do this for our kingdom.” Your kingdom, a voice in the back of his head reminds him. After today, he will belong to his husband’s kingdom. They will be allies, and Triskelion will always be his home, but he will be moving to Beacon Hills to stand at his husband’s side.

With a sharp nod, Laura releases him and starts walking again. “You will spend two days here before leaving for Beacon Hills, as per the standard custom, but you will stay in the rooms we’ve set up and provided for you and Prince Stilinski in the South wing. Isaac, Boyd and Erica are all going with you, so you needn’t worry about feeling cut off from the pack. I promise that the Stilinski’s understand your condition and have no concerns about allowing them to go with you. And I figured that having your best friends around would help you not to feel so alone.”

“Thank you,” Derek says, watching her from the corner of his eye. “For taking so much care with this.”

She scoffs, “It’s my job Derek,” but he can tell that she’s pleased. They reach the foyer and, straightening her posture, she nods at the guards to open the door. Inside, King Stilinski is waiting by one of the windows. He’s a proud looking man, just touched by age, and his scent is soft and welcoming. When they enter the room, he turns and smiles at them, inclining his head slightly in Laura’s direction before turning his attention to Derek.

“You must be my future son-in-law,” he says, stepping forward to take Derek’s hand. He gives it a strong shake before cupping both of his hands around it in a surprisingly caring way. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Son. I’m looking forward to getting to know you, after this whole circus is over.”

Laura looks around the room, taking in the collection of guards. “King Stilinski, where is the prince?”

The king shakes his head. “Please, call me John. If we’re to be family, it’s best to get the formalities out of the way.”

Laura smiles, a real and genuine expression. John’s easy-going attitude and kind demeanor makes it easy to relax. “John,” she tires it out, smiling wider. “Where is your son?”

“He's finishing getting ready. We-.” He clears his throat, sounding sheepish suddenly. “It might sound a little silly, but in Beacon Hills we have a tradition where the bride and groom, or in this case the groom and groom, don’t see each other until after the ceremony begins. It’s mostly old superstition, but Stiles wanted to keep with the tradition.”

Derek swallows, shifting uncomfortably. He had been hoping that he would have had a few minutes before everything started to meet the man that he was to marry.

John gives him an understanding smile. “I know that that’s less than ideal, but Stiles was adamant about it.”

He sighs. “That’s alright. At least I had a chance to meet you. I’m sure Prince Stilinski and I will have plenty of time to get to know each other after the ceremony.”

John claps him on the back good naturally. “That’s the spirit.”

Anders checks the clock on the wall and clears his throat. “My apologies, your Highnesses, but it’s time. We have to get the ceremony started.”

John rubs his hands together, then drops his arms and straightens his shoulders. “Lead the way,” he inclines his head to Laura, falling into step with her as they follow Anders out of the room. Derek trails after them, trying his best to ignore the knot that’s formed in the pit of his stomach. This is it. He’s about to be married. He can do this.

When they arrive at the entrance to the great hall where the ceremony will take place, John offers Laura his arm. She delicately accepts it, tucking her hands around his elbow. Before they leave him behind, Laura turns to flash her eyes at Derek. “I will see you soon,” she promises.

Derek can feel his own eyes glow gold in response, but he keeps his mouth shut, watching as Laura inclines her head at the guards to open the doors so that they may get started. Then she’s being swept inside, taking John with her amid the applause from the crowd, and Derek is alone with Anders and the guards.

Leaning back against the wall, Derek closes his eyes and does his best to catch his breath. He wishes, more than anything, that one of his friends was here with him. Boyd would give him some good advice and remind him of his station. Erica would smack him upside the head and tell him to stop overthinking everything. And Isaac would curl against him, doing his best to comfort Derek by being close to his pack member.

Boyd had even offered to wait with him, but Derek didn’t want to make him stay behind and miss the ceremony.

“Pardon me sir,” Anders says, stepping up to Derek’s side, effectively breaking Derek from his thoughts. His familiar eyes are kind as he waits for Derek to straighten up from the wall. “If I may be so bold.” He doesn’t finish his sentence though. Instead, he waits until Derek gestures for him to continue before he moves closer and pulls Derek into a tight hug.

For a drawn out moment, Derek doesn’t know how to react. In all of his years knowing Anders, there was only one other moment where he can recall touching him, and that was when Derek’s grandmother died. Anders had been the one to find Derek, who had been hiding since he felt her connection to the pack break off. He had crawled into the back of one of the servant closets, crying to himself as he tried to come to terms with the fact that his beloved grandmother was lost forever. Instead of forcing him to come out and face what had happened, Anders had crawled into the space beside him and pulled Derek into his side, allowing the young boy to sob against his chest until his mother eventually sought him out.

Talia had thanked Anders for taking care of her son, and he had bowed and replied that he was simply doing his duty, as though taking care of a grief stricken Derek was a part of his everyday job description as her advisor. And that had been that.

Now, he hugs Derek close, arms tight across his shoulders. Exhaling, Derek relaxes against him, feeling small once more. The action brings tears to his eyes, and he holds onto Anders tighter. This man was one of his parents’ most trusted companions. He watched Derek grow up, just as they had, helping to guide him on his way when he got lost in all of the noise of royal living.

“You should be proud of yourself,” Anders says finally, pulling away from the hug. He keeps a grip on Derek’s shoulders, holding him at arms length so that he can look him in the eyes. “I have had many privileges granted over the course of my time working for your family. Watching you and your sister grow up has been one of the best though. It has been an honor, watching you become someone who is lead by kindness and cares about his people over everything else. You are smart, and wise beyond your years, and I know without a doubt that Talia and Sebastian would be so very proud of you.”

Tears sting Derek’s eyes. With a small smile, Anders reaches out and brushes a stray tear away before he releases his hold on Derek and steps back. “I know that you are worried about what will happen after all of this unfolds, but I have no doubt that you will thrive in Beacon Hills, just as you have here. You are braver than you believe Derek, never forget that. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” clearing his throat, he bows and moves back in the direction of the door, listening to Laura give her speech inside so that he can send Derek in after his introduction.

Derek is grateful that Laura will have Anders to look after her when he is gone. For all that he seems to be the picture of a respectful advisor and nothing more, it's clear that he cares about the Hale family. Derek is grateful for him. His words have strengthened the resolve that Derek has been feeling about the wedding. Even though it doesn’t make up for the fact that his parents aren’t there, Derek feels better knowing that someone who had known them so well is going to be there to watch him get married in their place.

“Your Highness,” Anders says, turning to look at him with proud, gleaming eyes. “It is time.”

Straightening his shoulders, Derek moves to the entrance of the great hall. Before he steps inside, he turns to Anders and says, “Thank you,” hoping that he understands just how much Derek means that.

Anders smiles and bows deeply. And then Derek takes a deep breath, and passes over the threshold into the hall. He can feel everyone’s eyes on him as he moves down the aisle, but he keeps his own gaze locked on where Laura stands at the front of the crowd waiting for him. When he steps up to her side, she kisses each of his cheeks gently and then moves off to the side. John takes her place beside Derek, shaking his hand and then waiting until Derek has moved to where Finstock is waiting before beginning his own introduction.

He talks about Beacon Hills and what this marriage will mean for both kingdoms, and Derek tries his best to pay attention. This is, after all, going to be his new home. But he gets distracted looking for his friends in the crowd. When he finally finds them amongst the guests, a real smile pulls his lips up. Boyd looks stoic as ever sitting tall and proud at the end of the row they’re in. He meets Derek’s gaze and gives him the slightest of nods before reaching out and taking Erica’s hand. His wife is crying into a handkerchief while simultaneously doing her best not to look like she’s crying. Ignoring what John is saying, Derek raises his eyebrows at her. Subtly she bares her teeth at him, a threat that makes Derek’s smile grow. Beside her, Isaac rolls his eyes at their display, but Derek doesn’t miss the way that he sniffles discreetly to himself.

He’s about to raise his eyebrows at Isaac too, but then a new scent captures his attention. In a room full of people, some of whom are wearing perfumes and oils, the smell of everything is almost overwhelming. But through it all, one scent stands out. Like lightening during a thunderstorm, there’s a power in the scent, an infectious energy that captures Derek’s attention. Tilting his head slightly upwards, Derek takes in the sweet smell of dark chocolate and cinnamon, spicy and warm. And then, Derek sees where it’s coming from.

The doors at the end of the hall have opened once more and Prince Stilinski is striding through, head held high as he moves down the aisle. Derek’s first thought is that he’s the one that smells really nice.

His second thought is that he’s beautiful. His hair is ashy brown in color, and while it is not as dark as Derek’s, it compliments his pale skin perfectly. He’s tall and toned, and, dressed in a deep red suit, he’s the brightest thing in the room. It’s impossible to look away from him. Perhaps the most striking thing though are his eyes, which are a bright bourbon and are so full of life that Derek feels a little drunk just looking at them.

This man is meant to be Derek’s husband? There must be some mistake. Derek doesn’t understand how he isn’t already married and why someone like him agreed to an arranged marriage.

Maybe he has a terrible personality, his brain offers, trying to make sense of the situation. Derek doesn’t have time to dwell on it though, because before he knows it Prince Stilinski is stepping up beside John, allowing his father to kiss his cheeks before taking his place in front of Derek. When he’s settled in place, he smiles at Derek. Helplessly, Derek smiles back.

“Thank you all for coming,” Finstock says, startling Derek enough to make him jump. “We’ve all gathered here today to celebrate the union of two great kingdoms, and I have the honor of joining together Prince Derek Hale of Triskelion and Prince Mieczysław Stilinski of Beacon Hills in glorious matrimony. Some of you may be wondering how it is that I’ve been selected for this important task, and to those people I say-.”

Laura clears her throat, raising her eyebrows expectantly when Finstock looks over at her. The whole thing makes Derek roll his eyes (albeit a little fondly), and Stiles has to reach up to muffle his laughter against his lips when Finstock blushes.

“Right.” He clears his throat. “Prince Derek Sebastian Hale, do you accept the hand of Prince Mieczysław Klaus Stilinski with the gods as witness? Do you promise to devote yourself and your time to him, vowing to follow him as you follow the moon?” Derek can feel his expression twitch. Laura thought that using the traditional vows of Triskelion would be a nice way to connect them to those that came before. Derek didn’t agree with her, and now, hearing the vows, he can’t help but feel a little uncomfortable. It’s not that their lycan ancestry is a secret. But this isn’t a ceremony between two werewolves. Prince Stilinski is human. He could never understand the weight of the vow.

Still, it was important to Laura that they follow tradition, and Derek had finally agreed. Besides, these were the same vows that their parents spoke at their wedding, and Derek likes knowing that this is something he can share with them.

Reaching out with shaking fingers, Derek takes Prince Stilinski’s right hand. He holds it delicately while he wraps a piece of red ribbon to symbolize their union around his wrist before letting it go again. Finstock holds out a small bowl filled with blue water blessed by the moon, and Derek dips two fingers into it before taking Prince Stilinski’s left hand. Carefully he rubs a strip of the water across the back of his hand, leaving a pale blue streak as he goes. These two actions have always been a part of the traditional wedding ceremonies in Triskelion, and Prince Stilinski takes everything in stride. He must have done his research beforehand so that he was prepared.

When he’s finished, Derek takes a shining silver ring from Finstock and gently slips it onto Prince Stilinski’s finger. “So I do swear,” he says, keeping his voice even and strong. Before he has a chance to pull his hands away, Prince Stilinski tightens his grip, squeezing gently in an almost reassuring way. When Derek looks up at him in surprise, his smile is radiant.

“Prince Mieczysław Klaus Stilinski,” Finstock booms, breaking whatever spell had Derek captivated, “Do you accept the hand of Prince Derek Sebastian Hale with the gods as witness? Do you promise to devote yourself and your time to him, vowing to remain loyal and true for as long as you shall both live? Do you vow to stand with him, sharing your elations and your woes as equals?”

These are the more familiar, more traditional vows that several of the kingdoms use. Because Prince Stilinski isn’t a werewolf, it only seemed appropriate to use these vows for him. But the rest of the ceremony is the same. With steady hands, he tries the ribbon around Derek’s wrist, his fingers lingering momentarily against his pulse point before moving to the other hand. The water is cool against Derek’s skin, a direct contrast to how hot Prince Stilinski’s fingers are. And then he’s slipping the silver ring onto Derek’s finger.

“With the gods as our witnesses, please kiss and finish this binding.” For a moment, Derek freezes. He had forgotten about the kiss. Luckily, Prince Stilinski seems more confident. Without hesitating, he steps forward into Derek’s space and reaches for his face. Cupping both hands carefully around his jaw, he closes his eyes and brings his lips down gently against Derek’s. As far as kisses go, it is soft and chaste, barely a brush of skin against skin. But still, warmth shoots down Derek’s spine, making his toes tingle with it.

The applause around them is boisterous and filled with joy. Laura steps toward them, smiling big. Only the people closest to her would notice how the smile isn’t quite genuine. “Thank you. We invite all of you to follow us to the ballroom for dinner and dancing to celebrate this occasion.”

With that she holds out her arm once more for John. They both smile as they make their way down the aisle. Derek watches them go for a moment, before he holds his own arm out for Prince Stilinski. “Shall we,” he asks. For the first time since he appeared at he great hall’s doors, the prince looks off balance. “I know a place where we can take a moment to breathe,” Derek offers. He enjoys the way that Prince Stilinski smiles at him, gratitude shining in his bright eyes.

“Then please, lead the way your Highness.”

Tucking their arms together, Derek leads them away from the stage. The applause is still overwhelming, echoing in Derek’s chest as they go. As soon as they exit the great hall, Derek takes a firmer grip on Prince Stilinski’s arm and pulls him down a small corridor leading away from the ballroom. Navigating through the manor is so easy that Derek could do it with his eyes closed if needed, and soon enough he’s tugging them into the library, shutting the doors carefully behind them.

Prince Stilinski looks around appreciatively before settling into one of the large chairs situated off to the side. Looking up at Derek, he smiles. “Hello.”

Absurdly, Derek can feel himself blush. “Hello.”

“I’m sorry that we didn’t have a chance to talk prior to the wedding.”

Shrugging gracelessly, Derek sits down across from him. “The King explained everything to my sister and I, so I understand why you wanted to wait.”

“You can just call him John, you know. The use of official titles is a little unnecessary now that we’re married, wouldn’t you agree?”

There’s something about that that has bothered Derek since he found out about the engagement. He clears his throat. “I don’t-. How do you pronounce your name?” His flush darkens. He can’t look Prince Stilinski in the eye. “I wanted to learn the correct pronunciation before the wedding, but, well, I don't even know if Finstock pronounced it right and-.” He trails off, partly because he doesn’t know how to continue his train of thought and partly because his companion has begun to laugh.

“Oh no, I’ll keep that monstrosity to myself thank you. Hearing it several times today was enough for a lifetime. Please, call me Stiles.”

Derek recalls John calling his son Stiles too, and tries the name out for himself, relieved when it’s much easier to say than his given name. “And you can call me Derek,” he says. “I don’t have a nickname or anything else, but it is a short enough name that-.”

Stiles laughs again, though it isn't a cruel sound. “Thank you, Derek.” His name in Stiles’ mouth sounds new and intimate in a way that makes Derek shiver. He wants to ask why Stiles wasn’t already married, wants to know why he picked Derek of all people. But he keeps those thoughts to himself. They have a reception to get to, after all. They shouldn’t keep the people waiting. “Come on,” he says, climbing out of his chair. “We should get to the reception before my sister sends her guards to come and find us.”

With his luck, Laura would send Erica after them. He can only imagine how that would go.

Reluctantly, Stiles gets to his feet. He seems to hesitate for a moment, the first since Derek has met him, before reaching out and carefully taking Derek’s hand. Warmth spreads from where their skin is pressed together up Derek’s arm. He’s sure that his blush has yet to fade, but at least Stiles looks a little red now too. “I know that we have a lot we need to discuss in terms of this marriage. But, maybe for tonight we can just enjoy the party?”

Derek hadn’t really thought about not enjoying the party, but now with Stiles holding his hand he wonders for the first time whether this marriage might actually work out. Deciding that he’s actually kind of looking forward to seeing where this is going to go, he adjusts their hands to thread their fingers together. Then, feeling brave for the first time all night, he brings Stiles’ hand up to his mouth and presses a gentle kiss against his knuckles.

“Let’s go enjoy our party,” he agrees, only pulling Stiles’ hand far enough away from his mouth that he can speak the words.

Stiles blinks at him, eyes wide and mouth parted. Then he grins, and it's brighter than the sun. “Lead the way.”

#sterek bingo 2020 #sterek fic #my writing #sterek arranged marriage #sterek royalty #prince derek #prince stiles #first meetings #royalty au #sbarrangedmarriage #sbwedding #sbmedieval

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and-the-world-is-quiet-here · 4 years

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Live 2020 debate commentary from a salty, disabled, and VERY pissed gen Z

Yall he just said he’s immune

My dad just left the room

Bitch are u saying Johnson and Johnson is going to make the vaccine?

sir that’s the diaper company…..smh

Biden just said its going to be a dark winter

#winter is coming

“virus.....that came from china” -trump 2020

“were learning to live with it”-trump 2020

apparently “Biden lives in his basement”-your president 2020

totally accurate.....obviously

ohhhh biden just said were learning to die with it

trump interrupted biden

Mam I thought you said you were muting them?

biden laugh count at 3

he all about the once percent till its the dead ones

trump interrupting at 3...nvm its now 4

this debate is making my dog sad

interrupting now at 5 for trump

trump saying his young sons illness just “went away”

bitch he’s may age and no it did not just “go away”

he was in quarantine for two weeks

apparently nyc is a ghost town

its not a ghost town trump I live right next to it

loudest neighbors ever

trump don’t call him Anthony

his name is DOCTOR Fauci

treat him with the respect he deserves

Biden looks so sad

nvm he legit looks like the joker right now

HALFWAY MARKKK

why is this at 9?

sir its a school night

I need time to scroll through my feed for hours before collapsing

Biden don’t use the word sovereignty

trump doesn't know what it means

thats discrimination against trumps

ohhh hes attacking hunter (biden) again

so he has a wee drug problem?

at this point everyone got one!

your the one making lewd comments about your infant daughter on national tv

(look it up he talks about his 6 month old daughters legs but and breasts)

get him big b!!

h876689908776- my dog 2020

he wants to express his disappointment

the light boxs is stealing his mother attention

ohh hes being rude to the moderator again

u a strong independent Indian woman get him girll!

mute his mike

prty plz

I am dissapionted in you

he’s saying he’s not allowed to release his taxs

(that is a proven lie)

“i was put through a phony witch hunt”- you'll never guess 2020

hes going after his BROTHER now

how is this allowed?

who decided trumps strategy would be to accuse his opponent of his own crimes?

look at the insults guys its a crystal ball

stay ahead of the scandal's

WILL YOU LEAVE HIS SON ALONE PLEASE

THESE ARE HIS CHILDREN LEAVE THEM ALONE

“i was a business man doing business”-trump 2020

no sir you were another rich white guy taking advantage of tax brakes and cheap foreign labor in asia

#american jobs as long as i don’t have to pay minimum wage

#you know like a DECENT FUCKING PERSON

Trump interrupted again

I lost count a while ago

Biden is staring into my soul

oh Biden just played the middle class childhood card

I haven't heard a single mute so far?

trump just said his bromance with kim jung un saved america from nuclear war

dont through my boy Obama under the bus

and another interruption

my big bro just screamed “MUTE BUTTON MUTE BUTTON MUTE BUTTON”

honestly same

10 more min guys

hang in there

OHHH trump just got MUTEDDDDDD

Biden is now on legitimate policy

ahhh hes proud of his plan

annd trump just interrupted

trump just kissed up to the moderator

trump just said biden’s more liberal than bernie

ohhh

biden just said trump dosent know who hes running against

hes like “this is joe biden”

like I know bro but slick burn anyway

ohhh they muted trump again!!!!

perfect opportunity to mute missed

trump just blamed healthcare issues on nancy peloski

biden says the the republicans wont pass it

(btw hes actualy right)

2 mins left

and trump is speaking through it

1 min left

omg what a waste of air

I really want him to test his “immunity”

preferably during a harsh winter

ITS TEN GUYSSS

there running over

they still haven't covered immigration

shit

I have just learned there is 30 min left

I think I would rather kill myself than watch the rest of this

I’m seriously have a sensory overload right now

I’m doing this for u

“children are brought here by coyotes”-presedentail cown 2020

what a wack ass sentence

hes like ohIi haven't been putting kids in cages

and then just went but I didn't build them they were built in 2014

(contradiction much)

“who built the cages”

yes it was Obama but guess what

THEY WERNT BUILT FOR KIDS

there ment to house animals, evidence, and adult prisoners in emergency situations

THEY WERNT MENT FOR 3 YEAR OLDS

Biden was just like “well no actually kids come with PARENTS”

(kids hardly ever come over with out parents)

and then he was like and also WHO LOST TRACK OF OVER 1,000 PARENTS

(thats 500+ new orphans at the least)

hes saying only the illegal immigrants with the lowest IQs come back after being deported

we said the same thing in december about you but ya’know

my mum was like “anyone eating chocolate” and I was like “im snaking on this ignorance” and she was like “dont do that you'll get indigestion”

“no one has done more for the black community then Donald trump except for maybe Abraham Lincoln”

oh yeah Biden just brought up how trump publicly campaigned for the execution of the central park 5

WHO WERE CHILDREN

AND OH YEAH THEY WERE COMPLETELY INNOCENT

trump just yelled at Biden, got muted, and just yelled louder

trump just said he cant see the audience but hes the least racist person in the room

“Abraham lincoln here is one of the most racist presidents in american history”- biden 2020

biden just went “oh god”

he just said that he used to not support the blm movement because they chanted rude things about police officers

I would like to reiterate that “pigs in a blanket” has never been chanted in a protest or been a prominent statement in the blm movement nor “fry em like bacon” so what trump is saying is factually incorrect

unless hes on some sort of far right conservative twitter feed were he came across a video of some drunk white college kids chanting it

but you know what ever fits you narrative

plus I would be pretty pissed if I kept getting shot at for no reason so....

Biden making more logical decisions

trump was like why have you never done all this stuff when you were vice president

“we had a republican congress” -biden 2020

we have the cleanest air

we have the cleanest crystal clear water

sir, i know you've been to mexico

don’t lie

the waters gorges down there

and not owned by your smug ass

trump just called china filthy

so you know....

*whispers* racism

ok 5 min left

for real this time

trump just went “aoc plus 3: and then hes like she knows nothing about the climate

ummm.... you dont even believe in climate change

bidens like “are....is...is is”

good for you

correcting your grammar

trump just said “the wind kills all the birds” out of the godamn blue

(he means wind mills and its untrue)

“Whats the next question baba”

“the final question is leadership which he doesnt have”- baba 2020

I feel bad for anybody watching this on the toilet

bidens starring into your soul

he knows what your doing

there officially overtime

its 10 33

they haven't even done the last section yet

btw ITS A SCHOOL NIGHT

why do they host these so late

I should be pretending to be asleep right now

this is generational discrimination

plus trumps supporters are so old there asleep by now

ohhhh its over

1036 final time

okay so thoughts....I generally dont like the party system i think its ridiculous the system was not designed for it, and its now more about loyalty then the actual candidates. I also am really hesitant to put another strait white male in the oval office, especially one thats from “the lucky few” I.E. the smallest voting generation in the country and also the one that already holds the most positions. That being said, at this point its really anyone but trump and I think bidens got the experience to turn things around.

I AM IN SCHOOL I CANNOT VOTE. I am relying on all my older friends, followers, neighbors, and community members. To make an educated decision that wont further degrade the once hopeful future my generation awaits. Please if you can vote VOTE the kids are relying on you!

P.S. sorry i wasn't able to edit this earlier i struggle alot with spelling and didnt have the time to edit this because I HAD TO GO TO BED AND THEN GO TO SCHOOL. Why am I more politically active then people twice my age you might ask? Well, thats because adults are lazy and need to get of their gd asses and VOTE. So kids dont have to do the legwork for them.

I have said my peace now, have a wonderful day!

#2020 #election #covid #trump #biden #debate #byedon #flyden 2020

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