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bxtchforstyles · 3 years

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Baby

Y/N is a famous singer and when she releases her new song, her boyfriend is nothing but supportive.

(based of the song Baby by Madison Beer)

Warning: none

Word count: 1.5k

gif not mine.

“I just don’t know what to do for the part after the main chorus,” Y/N sighed from where she stood in the soundbooth.

She had been working on this particular song for quite some time now, for many hours on many different occasions and just felt like she was never going to get in perfect.

“I think what you have now sounds good, why are you trying to change it?” Her producer, Luke asked.

Her slim fingers ran through her hair quickly as she sighed, looking at the ceiling that was covered in soundproof padding.

“Doesn’t it just seem a little too…” She pauses, looking for the right word. “Feministic?”

Luke immediately shook his head at the idea she was presenting. “Y/N, the entire point of the song is to make every girl on the planet feel good about themselves. It’s not meant to just be some sexy song, it also serves a purpose.”

Before Y/N could reply though, the door to the studio flung open, revealing Harry, holding two coffees in one of his hands.

“Nooo,” Y/N dragged out dramatically at the sight of her boyfriend, making Harry give her a confusing look. “The song is not done! And no, I’m not showing it to you when it’s not done!”

Harry chuckled lightly, setting the two cups on the small coffee table that sat in front of the couch that was behind all of the keypads and buttons that controlled the audio recordings.

Y/N flung the headphones that had been put over her head off and onto the stand where they usually sat before she opened the door to the soundbooth and walked into the regular studio area.

“Why can’t I just hear a little snippet of it?” Harry whined, leaning his head back against the couch.

Y/N sat next to him on the light purple couch, leaning her back against the armrest as she threw her feet into her boyfriend’s lap.

“Yeah, Y/N, I think you should show him a little part of it, maybe he could help you write the rest of it.”

“No.” She immediately rejected as Harry ran his hands up and down her chins, seeing how obviously stressed she was. “It’s not good enough for your award winning ears yet.”

“You know I’ve always enjoyed your music more than my own love.”

He was bluffing. “Ha ha. You are so funny.”

“Y/N, I’m being serious. I want to hear what you have, let me see if I can help at the part you’re stuck on.” He proceeded to beg to hear it, but Y/N didn’t budge.

In all honesty, Y/N was just scared that Harry wouldn’t like the song to begin with since it had very clear, and sexual interpretations. She didn’t want him to think that this song was all about sex, so she didn’t want him to hear it until it was completely polished and finished.

“Can we at least show him to instrumentals at the very beginning?” Luke suggested the compromise, making Harry’s eyes gleam with joy.

“Yes, Yes!” He seemed very excited. “Please, baby? Just let me hear the beginning.”

“Fine.” She finally gave in.

Luke hit play, letting the pretty chords begin to play from the computer.

“Ooo, I like this.” Harry sighed as the music paused before the vocals came into play. “Was the violin?”

“Yeah, I thought it sounded really cool. Doesn’t it?”

The only thing Harry could think to do was kiss her on the cheek, “Yes darling, it sounds amazing. I can’t wait to hear the full thing.”

“Great!” She exclaimed as she got up from the couch, “Because that’s all you get to hear.”

*******

It wasn’t until a few weeks later when Y/N finally finished that song, and she was still hesitant for Harry to listen to it.

“Now remember,” She pointed her finger sternly at him as the two of them sat in the studio, “This song is not strictly about sex, I mean it kind of is, but still, don’t get any ideas.”

“Love, have you not heard some of the songs I myself have written?” He laughs at her seriousness, only making her glare at him before hitting play.

The same instrumentals that Y/N had let him listen to a few weeks ago began to play through the overhead speakers as Harry laid his head against Y/N’s shoulder. “I really like this part.” He then sighs.

She laughed, “Oh just you wait.”

The lyrics began a few moments later, “Baby, baby, tell me what’s the antidote.”

His eyes widened at the sound of her voice cutting through the soft instrumentals, beautifully, but also seductively.

“Wouldn’t text you this late less there's something wrong.”

Y/N was watching him carefully, not being quite one hundred percent sure if he liked it or not yet.

She also started singing along quietly, “I look too good to be in the bedroom without someone to touch me like you do.”

“Holy shit.” He gasped at how amazing the song that his girlfriend had hid from him for so long was.

Before he knew it, a few lines later the chorus hit.

“If you wanna be my baby, know I’m gonna drive you mad!” Harry completely lost it at the insane beat drop.

The rest of the song was still playing in the background, and Harry was still listening intently to the lyrics as he looked at his girlfriend, “Holy fuck, babe! This is so good!”

“Really? You think so?”

He was ecstatic for her, “Yes, I think so!”

They continued listening to the song, and Harry continued to praise her for how amazing she sounded in it.

“So, now I have a question…” She trailed off once the song was finished.

Harry looked up at her, “Of course,”

She grabbed his hands as she stood in front of him from where he was sitting “Will you pretty please be in the music video..?”

His eyes widened immediately, not knowing what to say. “What? Is that seriously how you want to announce our relationship?”

“I mean, we’re going to have to announce it eventually, so why not do it now?”

“I mean…” His voice dwindled, “I’m going to have to talk to Jeff about it, but I don’t think it will be a problem.”

“Yay!” She leaped, wrapping her arms around his neck, his wrapping around her waist immediately after.

“I’m so excited!”

“Me too, baby.” He smiled in return.

******

It was safe to say that the media was not prepared for the relationship of which was Y/N and Harry. Everyone was overly shocked when the song came out, and even more so when the music video came out, featuring Harry.

Of course there was always going to be a tiny bit of negative comments about anything that celebrities did in the spotlight, the couple expected that. But the amount of immediate support that they gained was completely mind boggling to them, and they couldn’t have felt more grateful.

All of the fans especially went crazy when they had realized Y/N and Harry went live on instagram as the video first premiered.

“Just so you guys know, Harry hasn’t even seen the completed music video yet!” She yelled over the beginning of the song as the just released video began playing over the big screen of the Tv in the studio.

Harry only smiled contently as he leaned back in the chair, pulling Y/N’s chair closer to his as he wrapped his arm around both her shoulders.

By the time the music video had ended, there were over one hundred thousand viewers on the live stream, making Y/N a complete nervous wreck.

“Okay, guys! We are going to end this live before I completely process how many people are watching this, because once I do, I will have a panic attack.” She tried to play it off as a joke by laughing lightly, but she was completely serious.

“Anyways, thank you guys so much for all of the support and love on Baby, and the music video. We hope that you enjoy it as much as we do. We love you, make sure to look out for the new album coming soon!”

When Y/N finally ended the live, she let out a sigh of relief as she put her phone back down on the coffee table, basically falling into Harry’s embrace. He kissed her forehead from where he sat, her basically in her lap.

“I love you, and I’m so proud of you.” He whispered lightly, already feeling Y/N becoming heavier as she began to fall asleep in the chair they were sat in.

“I love you too, thank you for everything.” She mumbled as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Of course love.”

#harry x singer! y/n #harry styles #harry styles blog #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles x ofc #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #solo harry

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lesbianlotties · 3 years

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Andy and Quynh One Shots - chapter 50 - Impossibly Sweet and Disgustingly in Love

Prompt: Andy and Quynh being impossibly sweet and disgustingly in love around everyone Tags: Post-Canon, Fluff, Extreme Fluff, Tooth-rotting fluff, dangerous amounts of fluff, absolutely nothing but fluff

reposting my favorite one with an added bonus to wish everyone a happy new year!!

the most beautiful and incredible art inspired by this prompt by the lovely and crazy talented @mortt-artsy is here

The first victim was Booker. Ever since he had joined the team, considering Joe and Nicky were always together, he was used to partnering up with Andy during their missions. When Nile joined in and shortly after they were reunited with Quynh, he stayed with the two older women while Nile joined the other couple. Now, seeing Andy and Quynh fight side by side was an incredible thing, it was admirable, intimidating and somehow, beautiful. But, then there was the downside, whenever they had to sit around and wait for a signal or the right moment to attack, and he was left there while Andy and Quynh…

“Andromache, focus!” Quynh squirmed on her place on Andy’s lap. They were sitting on top of a building somewhere, Booker was intensely focused on his binoculars pointing at somewhere in the distance, and Andy was thoroughly entertained holding Quynh in her arms and kissing her neck.

“I am focused!” Andy tried to defend herself but, after another kiss, she added, “but only on you.”

“Lucky me,” Quynh whispered, turning her head to meet Andy’s eyes. There she found the usual unmeasurable love and adoration in every shade of green.

“No, I’m the lucky one here,” Andy held her close, softly brushed her nose against Quynh’s, and then finally indulged herself in kissing her favorite pair of lips.

In the background, they could faintly hear Booker cursing in French under his breath.

Soon enough, Nile encountered a similar fate. Andy and Quynh had volunteered to cook dinner, but after it was obvious they weren’t getting very far on it, Nile forced herself to go in and help. Though she stopped in her tracks when she entered the kitchen and found Andy sitting on the counter and Quynh standing between her legs. The two women were exchanging quick kisses and completely ignoring Nile’s presence.

“We could forget about dinner, you know?” Andy kissed her. She had her arms loosely draped on her lover’s shoulders, and she was strongly considering just pulling her closer already. Then she added, “I have something different in mind.”

“Oh, do you, my heart?” It was Quynh’s turn to kiss her, “I think I might have the same thing in mind.”

They kissed again while they ignored the whispered “Gross,” coming from Nile still standing by the doorway trying to get their attention.

“Something sweet?” Andy whispered against her lover’s lips.

Quynh lightly bit Andy’s bottom lip and then slowly released it and pulled away enough to say, “Stop pretending you’re flirting, I know you hate cooking and would seriously prefer to jump to the dessert.”

Andy laughed wholeheartedly at that, and let her head fall on Quynh’s shoulder, “I love you so much,” she said, with her lips brushing the woman’s neck.

“Guys!” Nile turned around and yelled in the direction of the living room, “We are ordering pizza!”

Even Joe and Nicky, previously unparalleled couple in being extravagantly in love with each other, found some… light aversion to the two women’s newly rekindled flame. The two men perfectly understood how passionate love could be between two immortal beings, and they had even seen Andy and Quynh before torture and grief had tainted their souls. However, now they were seeing what it meant to have five hundred years of love to make up for. Plus, it looked like the women had suddenly remembered their old on-going joke of annoyingly, but hopefully playfully, constantly reminding the men that they had been together for much, much, much longer.

They were driving away after a mission. Joe was behind the steering wheel, Nicky was on the passenger seat and Quynh was sitting in the back seat, with Andy laying down with her head on Quynh’s lap.

“So, it’s almost three thousand years now then?” Quynh wondered, while her fingers played with Andy’s hair, “Three millennia of devoted and ardent love?”

“Yes,” Andy, who was holding Quynh’s other hand, brought it to her lips and started tenderly kissing her knuckles one by one. “I have treasured you since the very first dream of you I had, and I have adored you more and more every day.” Andy’s eyes were soft in a way that only Quynh had ever seen them, but Quynh also loved the way that in the blink of an eye she could read the sudden change for playfulness in her lover’s eyes. “We should celebrate like during our second millennium. So long ago, and still, it feels like yesterday.”

“I agree, my heart” Quynh smiled with matching mischief, “and do you remember our first thousand years together? It went by in the blink of an eye!”

��Oh, I could never forget!” Andy replied with a perfect teasing tone, “Even if we have loved each other for two more thousands of years after that.”

“That’s literally three times more, huh?” Quynh couldn’t hold back a small laugh, even if then she added more seriously, “Every thousand of years is impossibly better when I’m with you”. Her voice had turned soft and sincere and it was obvious she wasn’t just thinking about teasing their friends. Every ounce of love and truth in her voice and heart was perfectly matched in every feature of Andy’s face and the spark in her eyes. It was so easy to forget the rest of the world existed when they were staring at each other just like that.

Still, on the front seat, Nicky’s face was settled in a deep frown. Joe was tightly gripping the steering wheel, and he mumbled, “You two should get a taxi.” But they continued to be ignored by Andy and Quynh, still lost in each other’s eyes, in their memories, in all the love they had ahead of themselves.

This tendency of Andy and Quynh being impossibly sweet and disgustingly in love around everyone, didn’t lessen with time, to the surprise, delight, and annoyance of different members of the group.

Nile swore off grocery shopping with the two other women after the time that something about some cheese brought out a pleasant memory that had Andy and Quynh making out with each other in the middle of the aisle. On one occasion Booker had to shoot himself in the foot to get out of shooting practice, because successfully introducing Quynh to modern weapons had turned into Andy praising the woman’s skills in a seemingly unending speech. Then there was Joe, who would refuse to visit a certain mall for at least a century after someone in a store mistook him for Quynh’s husband, right before everyone there noticed his alleged wife getting up to some highly inappropriate business in the dressing rooms with another woman. Nicky wasn’t the exception either, since he had lost count of how many times he had to walk out of the kitchen, unable to take one more second of Andy and Quynh exchanging affectionate words and lovingly feeding each other bites of whatever sweet dessert they had that day.

Finally, when the entire family was together, well, there was no difference. They could try to tease Andy for her sudden, and wrongly deemed uncharacteristic, softness, but she’d reply with a threat or Quynh would successfully intimidate them in her defense or, more often than not, Andy would simply not notice at all, completely lost while staring at the love of her life. They could try to complain when both women laughed about inside jokes while they walked toward a mission, or when they flirted with each other in a dead language only they knew while they were all having dinner together.

But, at the end of the day, when it was time to enjoy some time to themselves, relaxing in some remote corner of the world, the six of them scattered around a safe house’s living room and watching a movie chosen by Nile, it wasn’t annoying at all. Centuries of pain, guilt, grief, and nightmares, that in moments like this they could pretend never happened. Moments when Nile, Booker, Joe, and Nicky can do nothing but exchange smiles with each other, genuinely overjoyed to watch Andy and Quynh, the two women that had suffered the longest, and loved each other even longer, finally get a chance to do nothing but enjoy each other’s company.

It didn’t matter if it could be annoying to be in the presence of the couple that had been together for the longest amount of time in history and still had the ability to love each other with the dedication and enthusiasm of millennia ago. Sometimes, all the mattered was Andy and Quynh, falling asleep in each other’s arms, with smiles in their faces, and in their hearts the glorious knowledge that they would wake up the next day to continue loving each other more than ever before.

#back to regularly updating the one shot collection!! i'm getting it to 100 one shots even if it kills me!#the old guard #andy x quynh #andromaquynh #immortal wives #andromache the scythian #quynh #tog #the old guard fanfic #my fic

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cryysiswritesthings · 4 years

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Emotional H/C || Draining Reality

Fandom: Inuyasha Rating: Teen and Up Warnings: N/A Status: Complete Pairing: KogKag Summary: Kagome is having a shit day, and Kouga is at a loss of how to help.

Find it On: AO3

Tumblr Tags: #kogkag #inuyasha #hurt/comfort #modern au

“I'm sorry, what? What do you mean I haven't paid my bill?”

“Ma'am I'm looking at your account--”

“So am I. It says right here that I owed the hospital just under five hundred dollars, and now you're trying to tell me I owe them another thousand?”

“Miss Higuarshi, your first bill was for the hospital directly, not for the physicians and MD who took care of you.”

“I only had one physician, actually, and I had to sit around waiting for over five hours for her to come stitch me! And just to make it worse, she chose not to listen when I said she was still causing me pain and then had the nerve to tell me I hadn't said anything! Do the words ‘ow that hurts’ suddenly not mean anything?!”

“Ma'am I understand your frustration--”

“Clearly you don't! And who exactly is this Dr. Kimoto?! Why am I being charged for services by someone who never even saw me?”

“Dr. Kimoto was the attending MD on site Miss Higurashi.”

“And what does that have to do with me?”

“Your PA would have consulted with him about treatment options.”

“If she’s a god damned PA she shouldn’t need a consult on how to stitch someone!”

“Miss Higurashi there's no need to shout.”

“I'm sorry, do you have $1,000 just lying around in your house? Because if you do you are more than welcome to pay for this since I'm not going to!”

“Not paying your bills will result in them being sent to collections and have a negative effect on your credit.”

“I. Do. Not. Care. I'm not paying you people for making me sit around for five hours only to end up causing me even more pain than the cut did in the first place! You want me to pay for the five minutes it took for her to sew me up? Fine! But I'm not paying for hours of sitting around doing nothing, and I'm sure as hell not paying some random doctor who never even saw me!”

“Miss Higurashi there are clear notes in your file from the doctor stating that he saw you.”

“Oh really? Really? Describe him. Tell me what this doctor looked like. Was he the old lady who came in and cleaned out the cut? Or was it the young blonde guy who came in and re-did her work while doing a ten times better job? Or maybe it was the head nurse who came in and told me his name was Raito and to let him know if I had any concerns about my stay.”

“Ma'am, Dr. Kimoto is a middle aged, dark haired male with square glasses and a beard. I'm looking at his photo right now.”

“... You're kidding me. You have got to be kidding me. The random guy who walked into my room, didn't bother to introduce himself, unwrapped my hand and let it bleed for a good minute only to rewrap it and walk out typing on a computer? That guy is Dr. Kimoto, and you want me to pay him?”

“Miss Higurashi, I am sorry about your experience, but bedside manner aside--”

“This has nothing to do with bedside manner! He didn't do anything but make me bleed and you want me to pay him five hundred dollars for it?! Are you crazy?!”

“Ma'am--”

“No, you know what, screw that! Go ahead and send it to collections, and when your people write it off for their tax breaks, I'll be calling my lawyer and suing you and the hospital for personal and emotional damages. Good bye!”

Kagome Higurashi slammed the phone into its receiver and screamed her frustration into her hands. What kind of crap was this?

"So," her head shot up, staring at the tanned male leaning against her door frame. "That sounded like absolute hell."

"You have no idea," the girl groaned, dropping her head to her arms. She didn't bother looking up at the sound of the door closing, or at the ruffle of moving blinds. Folders dropped to her desk blew a gust of wind over her hair.

It was the warm hands on her shoulders that made her tense, the slow circles drawn over her back only making it worse.

“Kouga, now is really not a good time.”

“Kagome…”

“Please, not now.” He only wanted to help, she knew that, but her agitation wasn’t doing him any favors. “You’re trying to be sweet, but I’m in a horrible mood right now and the last thing I want is to accidentally take it out on you.”

Much as he wanted to argue, Kouga knew better than to stick around when she asked him not too. But that didn’t mean he liked the thought of leaving her alone. “Do you still want to come over tonight? I can pick something up.”

“I’ll call you and let you know?” She dug her teeth into her lower lip, back a line of tension.

He swallowed back a sigh, squeezing her shoulders once and releasing her. “Sure. Just let me know.”

Some of the stiffness in her spine relaxed, though it wasn’t much. Better than nothing though.

Knowing her well enough by now, he wasn’t going to wait for her answer. He allowed himself one brief, barely felt kiss to the back of her head, and saw himself out, locking the door behind him.

Relief was a balm against the pounding thrum in her body, but it didn’t last long. It was dark with her head down, but the room was too quiet. A stilled silence. If she didn’t do something, it was going to drive her mad.

Wincing as she lifted her head, Kagome gave her eyes a moment to adjust. The cord of her desk lamp rattled as she pulled it, shining on the wood with a soft, incandescent glow. The buzz from the electricity flowing through the bulb helped some, but it wouldn’t be enough.

She stood to flick the switch for the office light, casting the room with a warm, sheltering darkness. The desk lamp gave off just enough light to allow her to work, and when she retook her chair she pulled up the display settings for her computer.

A few adjustments tinted the screen, removing the harsh edge of its light. Satisfied, she pulled up a playlist of soft rock on her phone, setting the volume on low. Loud enough to make out the words if she wanted, but still able to fade into the background.

Perfect.

Her closed office door meant she wouldn’t be disturbed, and the click of her pen helped her focus on the work in front of her.

Kouga hadn’t seen his lover emerge from her office since he’d left her, and the worry was starting to gnaw. He’d watched her lights dim, and between the blinds he could see the gleam of her lamp’s yellow bulb. He could already picture it; leaning back in her leather chair, the warm light making her skin glow. The first few buttons of her blouse undone, exposing the warm skin of her throat. It wouldn’t take much to slide her skirt up--

Jesus Christ, he needed to get a hold on his damn libido. Friday’s were supposed to be the start of their weekly date night, leading up to a glorious weekend tumbling between the sheets. Thanks to the bastards at the hospital, he’d be lucky if she came over at all.

He might have to make a run down there and throttle someone.

But that wasn’t Kouga’s main concern right now. Claws tapped a rhythm on his plastic desk, trying to stop his frequent glancing at her door. How could he make this better?

Huffing a growl, a ‘ping’ from his computer told him he’d been messaged. Seeing who it was made him roll his eyes.

M.Bong: My friend, I am in dire need of help.

K.Wolf: What have you done now?

There was a stream of denials of any wrong-doing. Not bothering to try and insist otherwise, he interrupted the human male mid triad.

K.Wolf: Miroku I’m busy. What do you want?

Blue dots bounced while the other male typed. Kouga quirked a brow, unhelpfully amused as they disappeared and reappeared while Miroku debated his response.

M.Bong: It seems I have managed to incur Sango’s ire. I was wondering if perhaps you could ask Kagome to speak to her on my behalf.

K.Wolf: Absolutely not. Fix your own screw ups.

M.Bong: But it was all a misunderstanding! She simply walked in at an inopportune moment!

K.Wolf: Uh-huh. And does this ‘inopportune moment’ have a name?

M.Bong: Koharu, but that is hardly the point. I’m innocent!

K.Wolf: Sure you are.

M.Bong: I mean it Kouga! Koharu’s been after me for months, she refuses to back off! She’s almost as bad as Ayame was!

The thought of all the things his ex-stalker was capable of made him wince in sympathy.

K.Wolf: You sure you’re not just exaggerating?

M.Bong: She left lingerie in my desk drawer for Sango to find last week. What do you think?

… Holy shit.

M.Bong: I know I’m a womanizer, but I am not a cheat. I would never do that to Sango. She’s my everything.

M.Bong: And it’s not that she’s really frustrated with me personally, it’s the situation. We’ve gone to HR and they’ve promised to handle it, but that doesn’t help her feel better about it now and I don’t know what I can do to help.

That was a feeling he knew intimately. Kagome’s door pulled at him, heart clenching in his chest. Dammit all, he wanted to fix it but that wasn’t…

Wait a minute.

He was suddenly reminded of the conversation they’d had a few weeks ago. About guys always wanting to give solutions when a girl just needed to vent.

Clearly that wasn’t going to happen right now with Kagome feeling the way she was, but… That didn’t mean there wasn’t another way to help. Kagome had a gift for always knowing how to help someone feel better after a bad day, and they tended to revolve around the same thing. So maybe if he did for her what she did for him…

Kouga grinned.

K.Wolf: I think I’ve got an idea.

The quiet tinkling of her phone’s alarm pulled Kagome from her task. Blue orbs flicked back and forth across the room. Nothing was out of place.

Sucking in a shallow breath through her nose, Kagome linked her hands behind her back, stretching them above her head. Pops bubbled and burst through her spine, the stretch of muscles making her yawn. She’d been sitting in the same position too long.

Her sighed turned into another yawn, making her eyes water. Wiping them briefly, she started gathering her work together. While she’d gotten a head start on all of her upcoming projects, the hanging organizer on her door was bound to be filled with more. The office would be closed for the weekend, so she’d have to take it all home.

Chairs scraped linoleum floors, signaling the real end of the work day. And reminding her that she hadn’t spoken to Kouga since she’d asked him to leave.

Rising from her chair, Kagome slipped around her desk and peeked through the blinds. Kouga was still sitting at his desk, pen tapping rhythmically in agitation as he glanced repeatedly at his phone. Her poor wolf. She knew all he wanted to do was help, and her silence was only making him worry about her.

But she still wasn’t feeling like herself. Conversation was on the very bottom of the list of things she needed, and he’d want to talk about it and see how he could fix things. She didn’t honestly think she could handle it right now. Still…

Kagome looked back at the room, hugging herself. If Kouga was willing to… ugh, it sounded so selfish just thinking about it. How rude would it be to ask him to leave her alone while she was in his house ? She may as well not even bother going.

She missed him though. And she wouldn’t mind the company.

Biting her lip, she gave her arms one last squeeze and headed for the door. Nerves danced along her skin; she didn’t want to be out there right now. There were too many people, the fluorescent bulbs would be too bright, and the noises didn’t even bear thinking about.

But Kouga was waiting, so she was going to deal with it

She struggled briefly with the knob, kicking herself when she remembered he’d locked it on his way out. Embarrassment tinted her cheeks pink, but not enough to keep her from cracking her door to peek out at the floor.

Kouga looked away half a second too late. Even if she hadn’t seen it, the subtle lines of tension in his body would have given him away. She’d always been able to read him like a book.

Wetting her lips, Kagome slipped from her office, offering brief smiles to those passing. A break in the crowd let her make her way towards him; he was already standing by the time she reached him.

She stepped into his open arms, burying her face in his button down shirt. Large, warm hands moved slowly up and down her spine, and a soothing rumble hummed in his chest. She was letting him comfort her, and he was going to take full advantage.

She was so lucky to have him.

She made to pull back, but one of Kouga’s hands cupped the back of her head, keeping her there. Voices grew in volume as they chattered aimlessly, moving slowly down the hall and away from them. She was so, so grateful; even with the little things, he was still looking for ways to help her feel better.

Flushed and pleased, she turned just enough to leave a light kiss over his heart.

“How are you feeling?”

“Only a little better. Still not great.” Her fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt, clinging to him.

Her wolf dropped a kiss to her head, humming in thought. “How can I help?”

Kagome bit her lip, nervous though she knew there was no reason to be. Kouga could be ridiculously understanding when he wanted to be.

“I was thinking… I do want to come over tonight, if that’s okay.” She giggled quietly when he scoffed. “I just… I don’t really feel like talking much. At all, really.”

“But you still want to stay the night?”

“Mm-hmm.” She tilted her head up, searching his face worriedly. “Would that be okay?”

Cupping her cheek, he kissed her, lips soft against her own.

“Absolutely.”

When Kagome had left the office to head home and pack, Kouga booked it to his car and headed home. He finished a call on the way there, taking the steps two at a time to get to his apartment. He could have just taken the elevator, but the quick workout helped him clear his head.

Jacket hung and briefcase tossed to the side, he spent the next hour cleaning up his apartment. Dishes were done, floors vacuumed or swept, sheets on the bed changed, laundry started, fridge emptied of its few expired foods, trash taken out…

Standing back to admire his work, Kouga smirked. Perfect. Kagome would be around in another half hour or so, so he’d make sure to turn the radio on before she got there. Now all he needed was a shower and they’d be set for the night.

Kouga was in and out of the shower, drying off completely and tugging on some lounge pants before doing one last sweep of the place. He flicked the radio on as he entered the kitchen, pulling down some bowls and plates from the cabinet. He left them on the counter for now, fingers tapping impatiently against his sides. What else, what else… there had to be something he was missing…

It was the sunset that made him think of it. Lighting, that was what he was forgetting!

He flicked off the main switches, turning on lamps to illuminate the living room in their place. The kitchen light was more fluorescent than yellow, but Kagome likely wouldn’t be spending any time there. Not if he had anything to say about it.

As a passing thought, Kouga grabbed some pillows from his bed and threw them on the couch. Kagome’s favorite blanket he hung over its back, along with an extra comforter for himself. AC turned down was a little manipulative, but it might make her more willing to cuddle too…

The lock on his door turned while he was debating, the open door blowing Kagome's scent sweetly under his nose. She wore her favorite pair of sleeping shorts and overly large t-shirt, soft from years of use. She’d come dressed for comfort, slipping her flats off and dropping her overnight bag by the door.

She looked a little worn even freshly showered. Rather than say hello, Kouga simply held his arms open, closing them around her when she stepped into his embrace. Her sigh of happiness was a line of warm air across his chest, and kissed the top of her head, breathing her in.

They stayed that way for a while, Kouga holding her, Kagome allowing herself to be held. She was glad she’d made the decision to come over and see him. He wasn't pressing her to explain, wasn't trying to make her talk when she didn't want to. They stood quietly together, existing in each other's presence. It was exactly what she needed.

Kagome’s peace was interrupted by a chime from her wolf's phone. Pouting when he pulled it out, she snuggled more tightly against his chest, only making him laugh at her antics.

He released her with another kiss to the crown of her head and headed for the door. Curious, but unwilling to follow, she collapsed onto his couch, tugging the blanket over her head. She really should be getting started on the work she’d brought with her.

Only half listening, Kagome followed the sound of Kouga’s movement throughout his apartment. The slap of feet against tile made her look up curiously, peeking around the back of the chair to peer at the entryway of Kouga’s kitchen. Something smelled delicious. He’d had food delivered?

She made to sit up and stand, feeling nosey. Apparently he was paying more attention than she'd thought, because he poked his head out of the kitchen.

"Sit, you," Kouga told her, only half joking. "I'll be out in a sec."

"But--"

"Stay." Her huff was answered with a fangy grin, and he got back to work.

Sighing, Kagome let him finish… whatever he was doing. She arranged the blanket and comforter, shifting things around for them to be comfortable. The clinking of plates and silverware still kept distracting her, but she stayed settled on the couch. He was being secretive, but she'd find out soon enough.

Feet on the tile turned to padding on the carpet. Kouga was in front of her only a moment later, a glass of wine and a bottle of beer held in one hand with two plates balanced on his other arm.

“Kouga!”

“Ah! Sit.” His tone was disapproving as she made to stand. “I am more than capable of carrying a few plates.”

“I still could have helped.”

“Yes you could have, which would have defeated the point of me carrying them.” He wanted to kiss that annoyed pout right off her lips, but one wrong move and he’d drop everything. Better to stay focused.

She watched curiously as he first set the drinks down, wondering at the food on his plates. She was only half paying attention to him when she handed him a pillow to sit on as he sat across from her.

She didn’t have to look at him to know he was silently laughing at her, intent as she was on the dish in front of her. Why did… It hit her like a sack of bricks, and she looked up in dazed surprise.

“You ordered from Marrow’s.”

His smile was pleased. “I did.”

“They took this off their menu.”

“They did.”

“But you got it for me?”

“Looks like it.”

When she looked up from her plate, her smile was grateful, if a bit watery. “How…”

“I learned from the best.” Kouga’s eyes softened, and he covered her hand with his. Nerves whispered down his throat, worried but hopeful. “Did… does this help? I know it’s not an instant fix, but it works whenever you do it for me, so I thought, maybe…”

“It does.” Kagome’s sniffle was quiet, wiping at her eyes and releasing his hand to crawl over to his side of the table and into his lap. Her arms circled his neck and his her waist, hugging her to his chest. “It really, really does.”

A relieved sigh emptied his lungs, his grip around her tightening with gratitude. “I tried to set up the apartment a bit. To help, I mean.” Cupping her cheek, he pressed his forehead to hers. “I think I got it all, but if I messed up somewhere I can fix it.”

Frankly, it hadn’t really hit her why walking into Kouga’s apartment had relaxed her so completely. She turned now, taking the time to fully look around and see what he’d done. The dimmed lighting, the radio quietly playing, even the blankets and pillows. He’d turned his apartment into a haven for her to settle herself in.

New tears brimmed her eyes, and Kagome captured his lips with hers, kissing him with a smile. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

His thumb lingered over the soft skin of her cheek, sky-blue orbs gentle and loving. “I think somewhere along the way you might have agreed to marry me.”

Kagome leaned into his touch, warmth seeping into her heart. Her fingers closed lightly over his wrist, and her other hand pulled the thin silver chain hidden under her shirt into the open. On it hung a simple, elegant ring. “I did, didn’t it?”

“Mhm.” He brushed a kiss to her forehead, nuzzling her lightly. “Means you get all the perks of having me for a future husband.” Her laugh soothed the last of his worries. “The laughter’s free.”

“You’re too sweet to me,” she said with a sigh, laying her head against his chest.

“Nah.” Kissing the crown of her head, he pulled her plate over to his side, spearing one of her shrimp and holding it to her lips. “When it comes to you there’s no such thing.”

Biting her lip didn’t hide her smile, but she opened her mouth, indulging him. “If any of your guy friends heard you say that, they’d call you whipped.”

“I am proud to be whipped, thank you very much.” His fiancee giggled into his chest, so he took a bite of his own food.

“Think you can handle the teasing?”

Snorting, he held a bite of her food out for her. “They can tease me about it all they want. Doesn’t make it any less true. Hell,” Kouga’s lips quirked in a grin. “I’ll take whatever they want to dish out. Me being whipped just proves how much I love you.”

His woman shifted in his arms and pressed her lips softly to the underside of his jaw. The submissive gesture made his chest rumble in pleasure, and he tilted her head up so he could properly kiss her. Her eyes were soft as they parted, so he stole one more kiss, brushing his nose with hers.

“Now then.” Kouga’s lips quirked in a playful smile, holding out another forkful of food. “Think you love me enough to let me feed you?”

“Hmm,” Pretending to think about it, Kagome tapped her chin thoughtfully even as she settled back into his chest. “I’ll allow it.”

Snorting a laugh, he let his fingers dance briefly against her side, making her laugh. “Such an honor, Your Majesty.”

“You know it.”

They sat that way for a while, Kagome with her back to his chest, and Kouga alternating between feeding the two of them. Her glass of wine was untouched, his beer warming the longer it sat.

“Kouga?” He hummed, letting her know he’d heard her. “I love you.”

Smiling, Kouga hugged the love of his life to his chest. “Kagome?”

“Hm?”

“I love you too.”

#inuyasha #kogkag #hurt/comfort #modern au

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smolbeandrabbles · 4 years

Text

Breakfast In The Afternoon - Director Keller x Reader (Captain Marvel)

A spiritual successor to Don’t Let Me Forget it’s the same relationship, anyhoo

Author’s Note: Considering we’re on permanent hiatus with his Space Girl, I figured I might as well go full flow with his Agent, because I miss writing for this man so much.

I won’t lie, a lot of this wouldn’t have happened without this post. I sent this song around literally the day after ‘Dont Let Me Forget’ came out and the general consensus was it was gonna work for a sequel. Breakfast in the Afternoon - Caitlyn Smith

Disclaimer: Gif not mine / lyrics not mine / Captain Marvel characters not mine / Shout out to the aviation page I found with all the innuendos on, honestly, peak internet content - I wasn’t sure there was such a thing and you didn’t let me down! 👌👌👌

Premise: You’re determined to make sure that Keller has only the best of lazy Sundays. He’s only determined to test your reflexes...

Words: 2672

Warnings: Sexual Connotations (+Pre-Amble) / Innuendos / Swearing

_____

I've been awake all morning Think I'll just stay in bed Listening to ya snoring Don't wanna wake you yet But I kiss you on the cheek, and you smile Before you open your eyes And you look at me and say, "Hey" Shuffle on in to the kitchen Put on some Nat King Cole Do up the dirty dishes Left from the night before You wrap your arms around me and sway Singing, "You're my Mona Lisa, babe" Ooh, and everything else just fades away If trouble's waiting, they can keep on waiting 'Cause we got the day figured out Wake up slow and make love slow And keep all the shades hanging down The world keeps spinning all crazy But let it keep spinning on without us, baby Just me and you, having breakfast in the afternoon

---

You hoped it was Sunday. It definitely felt like a Sunday. You’d probably had just a little too much to drink last night. You could feel the rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of his body under yours; so it must have been - or both of you were going to be very late to work. Not that you thought Keller had an off day, he was always checking his pager - you’d once thrown the thing across the house, when you’d got a little too annoyed at it going off every five seconds in the middle of a very important make-out session. You cracked one eye open to peer at his clock, happy that the day was already in double figures and he was still here. Your head was on his chest, one of his arms draped around you; and you had no intention of moving just yet. Instead you merely snuggled into him, closing your eyes once more. You didn’t fall back asleep, just listening to the sounds of the house, and his body, and every so often the world outside. Before long Keller was shuffling around under you, and groaned gently as he stretched; he drew out his exhale and you smiled, knowing he was looking at his bedside clock. “What time do you call this, Director?” “Oh, don’t act like this is my fault...” but he chuckled, hand running smoothly along your back and through your hair. “Good morning.” “Just.” His sarcasm was clear as day “Aw, a lie in won’t kill ya...” You kissed his chest, tracing your hands over his skin as you held him tighter. “No, but you might!” Your eyes were still closed but you could hear the grin in his voice. He groaned once more, rubbing his eyes; “I am too old to drink like that. It makes me wanna grab a pack of Marlboro again...” You lifted your head from his chest to look at him, “Yeah, maybe I shouldn’t let you drink then.” Keller exhaled sharply, “We better have a box of toothpicks I’m gonna go crazy...” he blinked slowly, and finally his eyes lingered on you, large hand shifting to frame the left hand side of you face. “Still...” Keller brushed his thumb over your lips, “You’re not such a bad thing to wake up to.” You chuckled, “Well Director, you’re not so bad yourself...” then you grinned, “Your vision must improve when you’re drinking too.” He scoffed, “It’s not that bad. It’s just better with glasses.” Understanding your meaning he chuckled; “Perish the thought, you’re gorgeous no matter when I’m looking at you.” You gave him a disbelieving look, which of course he had to kiss off you, pulling you to his lips. But the movement of your body across his made you gasp softly, and Keller smirked against your kisses, one hand tangling in your hair, the other tracing down your back as you supported yourself against him and continued your slow, needy kisses.

His hand moved to your hip and stilled, soon enough joined by his other, but you were half a step ahead of his gentle guidance, hooking your leg over his to straddle him. You released his lips to catch your breath momentarily; “Don’t you get tired of me wearing you out?” “Baby...” His voice was low and seductive as he looked between your eyes and your lips, desperately wanting them on his again, “How could I ever?”

***

It was at least mid-day by the time either of you thought about shifting out of bed to shower and get dressed. You wanted to be as comfortable as possible but Keller, raised the way he was, always wore a button up shirt and smart jeans, if not pants. At least he was merciful (or not as the case may be!) enough to roll his sleeves up. “Why don’t you just go to Church?” He gave you a pointed look, “I think you’ve already made me late for that. I don’t need Church to pray.” He tilted his head, “Besides, I do know a thing or two about what happens after Church on Sunday.” Without warning he picked you up and, placing a kiss to your neck, carried you down the stairs to the kitchen. Once there he sat you down on the counter, and you were already giggling. “What would you like for breakfast? At… 12:30, right, Brunch, then.” “I should just ask for cereal.” “That’ll get you far…” He pondered through the cupboards, pulling out ingredients and setting up before reaching for the case of toothpicks, sliding one out and placing it between his teeth. You watched all this from the side, swinging your legs nonchalantly and studying Keller’s every movement carefully. You knew his body and his mannerisms like nothing else, and that wasn’t just because you were together – you spent so much time with him, and watched him constantly in the field. Keller didn’t become a Director overnight - he didn’t get where he did without being excellent. There was so much you could still learn from him. Even here, in a comfortable domestic environment, every so often he’d do something that would surprise you. But he was memorised, engrained in you – so much so you knew you’d picked up a score of his habits. But to be honest, there was nothing much better than watching him make breakfast in the kitchen on a lazy Sunday. Especially as every time Keller passed where you were sitting to collect something else he would kiss you – and you knew that he ‘forgot’ things on purpose sometimes to do just that. Well, you weren’t complaining. Keller slid across the room to the radio, switching it onto whatever local country radio station he was choosing today, before turning back to his cooking. Sunday was also comfort food day – and you were dating a Southern gentleman, who liked to remind you of this fact often. He still had both his parents and his little sister, who you had yet to meet but had heard a lot about. And Keller must have talked about you to them, because he often told you that she said ‘Hi’. They were still all back in his home state though. He moved the toothpick skilfully to the other side of his mouth with his tongue, humming gently to the song on the radio and you couldn’t help but smirk and chuckle. Which made him turn back to you removing it from his lips, holding it between his fingers like it was a cigarette; “What?” You knew why he did it - for exactly that reason – just to have that feeling and stimulation, in his fingers, or lips or sometimes tucked behind his ear. But you just couldn’t help yourself, and gently bit your lip as you fixed him with your best innocent stare, “You know, if you need an oral fixation you could have something a lot better in your mouth…” Saying things like that never failed to make him blush; this time around he coughed and cleared his throat, “Shut up and sit to the table.” “Are you ordering me around, Director?!” He paused again and shot you another look, making you cackle, “Okay, I’m going!” Keller whistled you back to him, bending down to kiss you gently, “I love you.” You pulled him back by his collar as he straightened because you weren’t done with him yet; “I know. I love you too.” Breakfast was as incredible as you knew it was going to be, and he spent a lot of time sweet talking you – even though you’d heard it all nearly a thousand times, you couldn’t help but sit there and swoon over him. The way that he would smile at you or giggle whenever you’d pay him one compliment for every hundred he gave you. But you still couldn’t help but feel so lucky whenever Keller looked at you like that – and he made you feel everything at once, always at no less intensity than a supernova; Gosh he’s so perfect. Oh my god I’m so lucky. But also, geez, now I just want him to fuck me on the kitchen counter, he’s such a southern gentleman, boy just take me please-!! Drive me to a church right now, you’re so perfect… But Keller was always so bashful, and he’d always respond to everything you said with “Aw, I’m nothing special...” Although you didn’t believe he really felt that way at all with the shades of pink, through red, he turned. You’d felt his heart beat fast under his skin when you’d complimented him before. Sure, Keller would always want to act professional, and always pretend that you were the only one who deserved praises – but you affected him in exactly the same way. And you weren’t sure if that was meant to be a secret or not – even if it was for sure one he’d never tell – but you would keep it to yourself, as if it was the most important secret you’d ever been told.

***

A lot later in the day on your lazy Sunday, you were curled up on the couch. This time you’d actually decided to check something out on your own pager. This obviously wasn’t something you usually did, but that was because you rarely got paged at the weekend, so another member of your team insisting that something might be urgent was certainly cause to leap into research action. You were definitely curious, even when you knew the irony, considering how often you told your significant other off. Keller was in the room, but you hadn’t noticed him yet. At first he was trying to figure out what was going on, staring curiously at you from his bookshelf - as soon as he caught the device in your hand he could do nothing but smirk; ‘Oh?! What’s this? She’s working!? When she’s always chiding me?!’ Of course he wasn’t about to let you get away with that, and laughed to himself silently, ‘Girl, you just wait!’ He had years upon years of S.H.I.E.L.D training, and he’d been an agent longer than you had (before you even counted his time in the Airforce); therefore Keller had no problems using his sneaking skills to stealthily make his way across the living room to you. Or so Keller would think, problem was, as you were also a top Agent, you hadn’t failed to notice his presence at all. All you were doing was pretending to be oblivious to his presence. His approach led to him studying you closely, and he couldn’t help but soften his expression, when you concentrated on your tasks like that you always looked especially beautiful. He liked watching you work hard for similar reasons – to him you genuinely had it all. You deserved all the love and affection he showered you with, and much more. Keller smiled gently, and leant over – after all, how could he resist giving you a kiss? You were, unfortunately, prepared for him (or at least what you thought he was going to do) and he just about caught your grin before you grabbed him. Getting his head into a comfortable lock and supporting his shoulders you tugged, and before he really had time to react, Keller found himself flipped over the couch with you pinning him down beneath you; hand on his throat, nails digging into his jaw line. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to sneak up on a S.H.I.E.L.D Agent?” He blinked a couple of times, that delightful shade of pink already threatening; “I’m just glad my best and brightest would be able to handle such an attempt on their life.” “Uh huh.” You raised a disbelieving eyebrow, before leaning forward to kiss him harshly without warning; leaving him breathless. “That’s what you get for sneaking up on me!” Keller couldn’t help a small smile of delight; “Uh. That’s not really deterring me. In fact I might keep testing your reflexes-!” “Careful.” You breathed, digging your nails in a little harder causing Keller to bite his lip, a curious look in his blue eyes as your own stare hardened. “You wouldn’t hit a guy with glasses would you?” You tipped your head, pushing him further down into the couch and removed them from his face. He raised an eyebrow as you slid them over your own eyes. You blinked a few times and then squinted looking around, pushing them up with your fingertips; “Good god! How bad are your eyes-!?!” Keller chuckled, and shook his head; “You always make the same joke!” In all honesty they weren’t bad, they blurred things for you a little, but were near perfect, and not as bad as anyone might think considering that he wore them as much as he did. He was Airforce previously, so you imagined they were once 20:20. You didn’t know very much about The Accident - which was exactly how he referred to it if he ever referred to it at all. You knew that Nick Fury had more details but he was sworn to silence, out of respect for his boss and good friend. And you would never pry anyway. What you did know is it was the last time that Keller had ever flown as a fighter pilot. And he’d been hospitalised for an undisclosed period of time. But they didn’t revoke his license and he still flew now; a fact for which he was very grateful. Planes had always been his life since he was very little, it would have broken his heart to take them away from him completely. Taking them off carefully you watched the way Keller tried to suppress his smirk with a lip bite and completely failed. “If you like me in your glasses…” you placed them gently on the table behind you, “You aught to see me in your clothes…” He opened his mouth to respond, but didn’t get very far before your lips were back on his and your hands were running through the buttons on his good shirt. “It’s a little disappointing that I don’t get to undo a tie and waistcoat…” you grazed your lips to his again, “But I’ll take what I can get…” He groaned gently into your kiss as you lay him back on the sofa, straddling his hips and grinding yours against him. You pushed your body to his and continued to run your hands over him; Keller’s were back in your hair and he could do nothing other than pull you closer. Still he broke the kiss, breathing heavily as your hands moved to his belt; “What? Geez again?! Why don’t I just talk dirty to you instead?” He took your hands in his, placing them on your thighs, tracing his eyes slowly over your body as he ran his tongue lazily over his bottom lip, “Cuz, baby, you can pressure check my pitot static system any day…” That was exactly why usually you wouldn’t let him dirty talk you. Because he always said things like that, leaving you more quizzical than turned on. “Yeah. That usually goes along the lines of comparing me to technical aeroplane parts and things that I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He smirked, with a cocky raised eyebrow; “There’s some pretty sexy aeroplanes out there though, trust me.” You scoffed, well, if it worked for him! “Sex and aeroplanes should only go together if we’re getting into the mile-high club-!!” Keller grinned, cupping your face in his hands before kissing you gently, and making himself more comfortable under you; “Well. I am a director, and I’m sure I could charter a private plane and fix that...” You couldn’t help your momentary stunned silence, looking at him with wide eyes; “Don’t you dare tease! That better be a promise!” “Oh baby, it’s a promise.” And before you could say any more, he grabbed you – pulling him flush to him to make sure those steamy kisses continued. What a Sunday…

---

Thank you for reading-!💙

@happyskywhale @wltz-bby #MendoTagSquad

#The toothpick thing will forever be a Keller theme.#Keller #Captain Marvel #Ben Mendelsohn #Director Keller #Director Keller x Reader #141 #Keller x Reader #I really like this relationship they're total cuties #Did I study his office too much? Yes #Did I fill this with a bunch of fanon/head canon... ALSO YES!#Ben in glasses gets me so we're talking about them #Jonathan Richard Keller #I got in a Maliyah reference #AND a Wreak-It Ralph reference #I'm on a rooooollllllll #I do have a skeleton plot for that mile-high-club scenario too. FYI...

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cutesuki--bakugou · 4 years

Text

Ancient Soul

Time Travel, Quirkless, Feudal Japan AU

“Your soul does not belong here.” Those were words you never thought that you would hear. Now, thrown into the past in feudal Japan, you must find a way to survive, all while struggling to avoid the growing feelings for one hot-headed war general. War, romance, death and love drive you forward, to find the place where your soul truly belongs.

Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader

Want to start from be beginning? Check the Ancient Soul tag. New chapters released every Wednesday as long as schedule permits.

Genre: Romance / Angst Story Rating: Explicit | Adult Themes, Sex, Death, Depictions of Violence, Alcohol

Chapter 17: Truth

Chapter Rating: Teen | Cursing Words: 2002

Standing before the pristine tori that marked the entrance to the stairway leading up to Shōshitsu Shrine, you couldn’t help but remember how you had felt the day you came to this world. The uneasiness that had crept upon you back then was crawling across your skin like millions of tiny spiders, making you nearly want to collapse on the floor and just cower in fear. The place horrified you. It was so heavy with the many centuries of sadness and torture it had caused for hundreds, if not thousands of souls.

“Katsuki,” you spoke softly, as if trying to not disturb any malicious spirits around you. “Do you know any history of this shrine?”

Deciding that you weren’t going to start walking up on your own, Bakugou gave you a slight push with his hand against your back, forcing you to start following him up the stairs. “I don’t know why it was originally built, if that’s what you mean. But I do know the story of it and why it’s called the Vanishing Shrine.”

“O-oh? What is it?”

Bakugou gave a small grumble in thought, as if he were trying to remember all the details. “People say that a widowed woman came here every day to pray for the soul of her lover to return to her. It was constant prayers, rituals, anything that she could do that she believed would work. I think she did this for… twenty years?”

“Wow… that’s dedication.”

“Nothing worked in the end. She was still a lonely, foolish old woman. Until she decided to hang herself on a beam at the entrance of the shrine. From that moment on, people believed that it was cursed. Any idiot can feel that it’s different here… It’s heavy.” Bakugou turned his gaze to look out into the forest that ran along the stairway, which were dense and dark, even in the sunlight. “There is something here… and strange things do happen. Like you, for example.”

“What about me?”

Bakugou looked down at you, his gaze curious and almost cautious. “Everything about you. The things you talk about, the way you were dressed, that black item that I destroyed that you called a… phone?”

“Yeah, that’s right…”

“People are found here all the time, screaming and being incoherent. But I think that just being in this place curses the mind. Makes people do and say crazy things.”

“Hm… I see. That is an interesting story.” Keeping your eyes down on your feet so you wouldn’t trip, you could only imagine what his reaction would be if you had told him the truth last night. He probably would have thought you were completely insane, but that didn’t really matter now. Who knows what would happen at the top of these steps, or what would become of you when all of this was over with. Still, when that final step was before you, there was no hesitation as you crossed the threshold onto the shrine grounds.

Almost instantly, everything was lighter. You could hear the birds and bugs chirping away in the forest, the sun warm against your exposed skin. It seemed so welcoming that any story or rumor could nearly immediately be dismissed. That is what made it so dangerous, you realized. It called people in and made them stay long enough for tragedy to strike.

“Well?” Bakugou interrupted your thoughts, having not taken that last step up. He seemed content to stay outside of the boundaries, and in truth, you wanted him to. “Can you remember anything?”

“Ah… Give me just a moment, I’m going to walk around a bit. I’ll call if I need you.” You gave him a comforting smile, feeling your heart flutter at the worried furrow of his brow. “I’ll be okay.”

“Fine. Don’t go too far.”

Gathering your courage, you began your exploration, walking around the beautiful, pristine building. As you did, you tried to look for… well, anything. Anything at all that stuck out as odd to you, but by the time you walked around twice, all you had found was an oddly placed rope still dangling ominously from a beam at the entrance to the shrine. Giving a frustrated sigh, you eventually stopped, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Anything, [L/N]?” Bakugou called to you, still in his place and barely within your field of vision.

“No, nothing. I can’t find a single-- EEK!” You squealed out in shock as the bushes beside you ruffled violently, making you stumble back over your feet and land square on your ass.

“What was that?! Are you okay--!”

“-- I-it’s okay, Katsuki! I’m okay, it’s just… a fo-...” Your throat closed up as you realized what it was you were looking at, glaring at you hunched over in the grass. “-- a fox.”

Sure enough, familiar dark brown eyes were staring back at you, glancing over every inch of your form as the animal stayed low to the ground. With a flick of its left ear, you immediately saw that it was missing quite a large section, making your heart nearly leap out of your throat. “Y-you… It’s you!”

With your loud exclamation, the fox hissed as it’s back arched, tail and fur along it’s back flared in defense. Unlike what you had experienced, the animal was completely feral with no signs that it could understand you, let alone recognize you. In a panic, you shifted to your hands and knees, crawling closer to it. “P-please, you have to recognize me! You sent me here!” The closer you got, the more aggressive the fox became, snarling with pointed carnivorous teeth. It was then that any hold on sanity you may have had broke, almost lunging at the creature, but you found you were held back by strong hands on your arms.

“[L/N], what the hell are you doing?!” Bakugou pulled you back away from the fox as it dashed off into the woods, which only made you even more hysterical, trying to fight Bakugou to get away from him.

“N-No, come back! You sent me here, you damn thing! Come back!” When you were swept off your feet and into Bakugou’s arms, you finally gave up on struggling, clutching on tightly to his robes. “T-That was the fox, it knows me! It sent me here!” Sobbing and wailing, you could barely hear Bakugou curse or feel the movement of him going down the stairs.

“Damn it, [L/N]... I told you, this place takes hold of those with fragile minds. I should never have brought you back here…”

From that moment on, time went by in a blur.

You couldn’t seem to register or focus on anything. You felt numb, lost and completely alone in the universe, more than you ever had before. Your only hope of getting home had failed, and now you had to accept that here is where you would be until you died. You would never again experience scrolling through your favorite blogs, playing videogames with your friends, cuddling with your cat, or the calmness of driving a car in the warm evenings. All the mundane activities that you had taken for granted were gone, and though you had tried to come to terms with it way before you came to the shine, having a definitive answer was crushing.

There was no more ‘maybe’. Instead, it was all absolute. You would live out the remainder of your life here.

Period.

End of story.

“I guess that settles that.”

“Eh?”

You and Bakugou shared a confused look, flames of the fire in front of you creating shadows that danced across his face. He seemed genuinely shocked that you had said anything in the first place, but you felt too numb to really ask why.

“Don’t you think?”

“Think what? [L/N], you haven’t said a single word to me in three days, and that’s what you all the sudden come out with? What the hell are you thinking about? I thought that place had made you go completely mad.” Bakugou reached up to rub the inner corners of his eyes, obviously at his wits end with this whole situation. “Damn it, I thought you weren’t ever going to snap out of it.”

“Three days?” You gave your forehead a good rub, trying to recall any recent event besides your interaction with the fox. “Have I really been quiet that long?”

“Not just quiet, but damn comatose.” Bakugou handed you a stick, one end of it skewered through a cooked fish. Timidly, you took it from him, trying to remember when you had stopped to go fishing. “But to answer your question,” Bakugou continued, starting on cooking another fish over the fire. “It does settle it. We’re about halfway back home.”

“Can I have some sake?”

“Only if you eat.” Bakugou watched you closely for a moment, waiting until you took your first bite of the fish before handing you the alcohol flask. You let it sit on your lap for a while, eating most of the fish before you took your first sip. The heat of the alcohol warmed you almost instantly, bringing feeling to your numb body.

After your first hefty swig, you gave a sigh, leaning back on your hands. “I should have known that was going to happen. I should of just… expected it.”

“I still don’t understand what happened…” Bakugou mumbled, only sparing you a quick glance as you took another drink. “What the hell were you even doing yelling at that animal?”

“If I tell you, I know you won’t believe me. Even I wouldn’t believe me. It’s absolutely bonkers!”

“What the hell is ‘bonkers’?”

“Look, Katsuki.” You shifted yourself to face him, taking another drink. “Can you just… have an open mind right now? Just for a minute? I’m about to tell you something that you won’t understand and that sounds absolutely insane. But I swear to you, on my life, that it’s the truth. Every word of it.”

Bakugou observed your face for a moment, giving a heavy sigh. The contemplation and curiosity were obvious on his stern expression, but you could tell by his stiff body language that he was wary. “Fine… Go on, then.”

“I… am from the future. A different era completely, about 500 years from now, more or less.” You were surprised how casually the truth came out of your mouth, even feeling comfortable enough admitting this to take a huge bite out of your fish. “I am, or I mean, I was a college student in Kyoto studying [degree]. My best friends Mirio, Nejire and Tamaki talked me into visiting that damn fucking shrine as a little trip. I even skipped my class for it! We drove here down the highway on Mirio’s dinky little blue car, though I slept the whole two-hour trip.”

As you went on and on, Bakugou listened silently, munching on his fish. You told him about your entire past, where you grew up, your family and everything that you used to love doing. “... I miss real shoes and jeans. Jackets with the fluff on the inside that keep you nice and toasty. Coffee! Oh god, I miss coffee.” With an agonized groan, you leaned forward, your head resting on Bakugou’s shoulder. “Mm… And chocolate. Just candy in general. My cat used to love licking lollipops…”

At the mention of your furry best friend, your eyes immediately welled up with tears, sniffling as you squeezed in closer to rest against Bakugou’s side. “My cat… I miss my cat. I wonder what happened after I left… I hope someone is taking care of them. It must have been so scary for me to just up and vanish like that…”

“That seems to be who you miss the most. But I’m sure that they are being cared for…”

Bakugou’s quiet, judgement free comfort brought a heat to your chest, your tears escaping you as you nuzzled your face into his robes. “Katsuki… You believe me?”

“[L/N]... I…”

#bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #bakugou x reader #bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha fanfiction #fanfiction #bnha writing blog #xreader #personal #ancient soul

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mistrose23 · 5 years

Text

Introduction to the dungeon (1)

Summary: Y/N reads rumors on social media about her boyfriend Chris Evans. The rumors are that he owns a sex dungeon. What happens when Y/N confronts him about it and what happens when she finds out that it is true?

DISCLAIMER: A lot of people are sending me messages about the fact that Chris Evans (the actor) doesn't own sex dungeon and that the rumors were not about him. I know this, but thank you. This story is FAKE and it is not based on anything real. The IDEA for this smut came from a conversation that I had with some friends after reading the FALSE rumors about Chris Evans owning a sex dungeon. This is nothing but a fantasy / idea for a smut. I just needed a excuse to write a smut

WARNINGS: Smut, language, dom/sub, rough sex, sex toys, BDSM, choking, etc. 18+ ONLY

WORD COUNT: 2947

Part 1 | part 2 |

It was late in the evening on a Thursday when I was sitting at my kitchen table with a glass of wine in my hand. Luckily, I didn’t have to go to work tomorrow and now I was waiting for my boyfriend who was coming over. As an actor, he works a lot and at irregular hours. He was still in the aftermath of the latest Avengers movie, even though it is finished now, and currently he was busy with a couple of projects. Yes, I’m dating Chris Evans.

We started dating a couple of years ago, when some mutual friends introduced us to each other. At first, I refused to go on a date with him, because why would a world famous, extremely handsome and immense kind and generous actor date me? A nobody? It took a lot of convincing before I went on a date with him. But the date was amazing and there were definitely sparks between us. So now, two years later, we were still together.

Right now, I was on my second glass of red wine, while I was scrolling through my phone. I decided to send a photo of myself to Chris, to tease him a little bit. I was only wearing some lingerie and a white blouse (that I stole from Chris). The blouse hung loosely around my shoulders, because it was unbuttoned, and I was very pleased with the outcome of the picture that I took. He could clearly see my boobs, my smile was inviting and because of the way that I looked into the camera, you could see a teasing glance. I sent the photo to him with the following caption:

“I can’t wait for you to come home to me.”

I grinned and opened social media. The fans knew that Chris was in a relationship, but they didn’t know who he was dating. When we made our relationship official, we agreed that we would keep it private. He was afraid that his fans would give me hate and that the paparazzi would bother me constantly. I was okay with it, only his family and close friends knew about me.

Within a couple of minutes, my phone buzzed. A smile crept on my face when I saw Chris his name on my screen.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing?”

An idea popped in my head. I hadn’t seen Chris all week because of his work. And I was a little bit needy. I tried getting myself off, but it didn’t work. I needed Chris. That is why I was so relieved that we could see each other tonight. The sex with him was amazing. In the beginning of our relationship, he was caring and gentle and our sex was mostly vanilla. But at one point, we started to experiment. We did some BDSM with roleplaying and we tried out dominance and submission. We both enjoyed it and I actually wanted to ask Chris to do more stuff like this, but I was afraid. I am not sure if he was into it like me (little did I know).

“What do you mean? I just wish that you were here with me. Especially in my bed.”

“O, god, Y/N. Stop talking like that, you know I want you. I’m free in 10 minutes.”

“Good. I can’t wait to have you all by myself. I keep imagining all the things that you can do to me and my body. With your hands… with your mouth…”

I got a reply almost immediately, but this time there was a photo attached. A moan escaped my mouth when I opened the photo. I saw Chris sitting is his chair on set, but the focus was on his lap and legs. Especially his lap. One of his hands was shielding his crotch, but I could see the obvious bulge.

“Making me hot and bothered in front of my colleagues. Don’t start something you can’t finish, honey. Otherwise I’ll have to punish you.”

I grinned. This was going exactly as planned.

“I was hoping you would say that. I’m looking forward to a little spanking. But first I hope that I can suck you off, to show you that I am a good girl. Maybe we can even explore other things.”

As I didn’t get a reply, I decided to go back to social media. I liked to go through the stuff fans wrote about Chris. Especially on Twitter, because sometimes the fans came up with the strangest and weirdest theories about him, but also other celebrities. After some searching, I found memes about him, people complimenting him about his performance as Steve Rogers and just fans appreciating him. But then my attention got drawn to a crazy tweet.

I read it a couple of times, because I wasn’t sure if I read it well. The fans were saying that Chris owns a sex dungeon? And he had spent nearly hundred thousand dollars on it? Oh lord. Of course, I shouldn’t have believed this, I mean, it’s a rumor made by a fan. Yet reading this, did something to me. What if it was true? What if he had a sex dungeon? The thought made my body shiver. Imagine all the things that he could do to me there… Oh my god. Should I...? I decided to call him.

‘Y/N, is everything okay?’ he answered the phone worried.

‘Yeah, I just had a question,’ I started, and I downed my wine.

‘Look, sorry that I didn’t answer your last text, the director needed me,’ Chris apologized.

‘No, no, don’t worry about that,’ I replied quickly. ‘I wanted to ask you something else.’

‘Sure, sure,’ he said. ‘By the way, I’m on my way to my car now, so I think I’ll be at your place in 15 minutes.’

‘Chris,’ I said with a slight tremble in my voice. I was afraid of his reaction. What if he got angry with me? ‘I read some rumor about you on Twitter and I wanted to know if it’s true.’

He sighed, and I heard him unlock his car. ‘Honey, you know not to believe everything they say about me on social media.’

I laughed nervously. ‘Yeah, I know. But, erm…’

‘Spit it out, Y/N,’ Chris encouraged me. ‘You know you can ask me anything, how ridiculous some things are.’

‘There is a rumor that you have a sex dungeon in your house,’ I said without thinking. ‘Of course, I know that is stupid and crazy. And now I don’t know why I’m calling you about this, but oh well.’

It was silent for a couple of seconds. Did I scare him? Did he think I was stupid?

‘Chris? I am so sorry,’ I muttered. ‘I shouldn’t have called you about this. Naturally you don’t have a sex dungeon, I’m stupid. Just the thought of you having that... did things to my body.’

Chris let out his breath that he was holding. ‘Y/N, do you mean that? What you said at the end?’

I gulped. ‘Y-yes? But why?’

‘Do you trust me?’ he said, ignoring my question.

‘Yes, of course!’ I said. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘Can you come to my place?’ Chris replied, again without answering my question. ‘I think I need to show you something.’

‘Chris…’ I muttered. ‘Erm, yes. I can take an Uber.’

‘Great. I see you then,’ and with that, he ended the phone call.

Oh lord, what could I except?

Twenty minutes later, I arrived at Chris’s house. I didn’t even bother to change my clothing, I only buttoned up the blouse and put on some jeans. After I paid the Uber drive and made sure that he left, I walked up to my boyfriend his house. I already had the keys of his house in my hand and unlocked the front door.

‘Chris? I’m here,’ I announced myself and I waited for him in the entrance hall.

‘Y/N?’ Chris shouted. There was the sound of a door slamming and then he made his way down the stairs. A smile appeared on his face. ‘Hey. How are you?’

I smiled as well, and I reached for him. ‘Good, how are you?’

He kissed me softly after he embraced me. ‘Great, now that you’re here. I missed you.’

‘Missed you too,’ I whispered, and I squeezed his middle. ‘I need you.’

I heard him chuckle and he released me from the embrace, but he kept on holding my hands. He took me to his living room and we both sat down on the couch. His eyes were fixated on mine and he took a deep breath. I had a feeling that now was the time that we were going to talk about our phone conversation.

‘I need you too, Y/N,’ he began. ‘But before we go to that part, I think we need to talk about the thing that we spoke about on the phone.’

I nodded and the look in my eyes were soft. ‘Yeah. Again, I am so sorry to throw that rumor in your face like that. I-I shouldn’t have done that. I hope you can forgive me.’

‘Y/N, no, it’s okay,’ Chris reassured me, and he took my hands in his again. ‘I don’t know how the press found out… but yes. It’s true, I have a sex dungeon.’

I was shocked. It wasn’t a rumor. My boyfriend, the famous Chris Evans, did have a sex dungeon. Here, in this house. My body shivered again.

‘You have?’ I asked him, just to be sure.

‘Yes,’ he nodded. ‘For a couple of years. Y/N, are you okay?’

‘Yeah,’ I replied, and I shook my head. ‘I’m just a little bit surprised. Does anyone else know about the, erm, dungeon? And did you take anyone there? To... do things?’

Chris nodded again. ‘Sebastian and Mackie know. And yes, I took a couple of girls there. Not any of my ex-girlfriends. They didn’t know about it.’

Now I nodded, but slowly. I’m processing all the information that I’m receiving. ‘Okay, okay. Did you do things with the girls?’

‘Yes, we did only the things that we agreed on,’ Chris told me.

‘Why didn’t you tell me about it?’ I asked him and I looked him straight in the eye. ‘Were you ever going to tell me?’

Chris gulped. ‘Yes, eventually. But I was afraid of what your reaction might be. I thought that you are not into those kinds of things.’

I chuckled. ‘What kind of things? The rough stuff? Tying me up? Use toys? Spank me? Choke me?’

Chris’s cheeks turned red, but I also saw that the color of his eyes changed. Did I turn him on? ‘Those kinds of things, indeed.’

I hummed. ‘Well, I can tell you, I am into that. And that’s why I was surprised of you having this dungeon. I didn’t expect it from you.’

‘What do you mean?’ he asked, and he raised his eyebrow.

‘Well, I-I mean...’ I stuttered. ‘You are you! A giant goofball. You are so sweet, and kind and I just didn’t know if you are into rough sex. I always thought of you as a vanilla guy.’

‘Vanilla, hm?’ he asked, and his eyes turned dark.

Without a warning, he pushed me onto the couch, so that I was lying on my back. He pushed my hands above my head and he was straddling me. A shaky breath escaped my mouth. Was he really going to..?

‘You think I’m a vanilla type of guy?’ he asked. He caressed my cheek with one hand, but then he forcefully grabbed me by my throat and squeezed a little, while he pressed small kisses behind my ear. His other hand laid on my right hip and he also put a little pressure there.

I moaned softly while he kissed me behind my ear, my throat and my sternum. Afterwards, I realized that I should’ve known that I should’ve answered Chris. Yet, I was too occupied in enjoying the pleasure he was giving me.

He squeezed my throat a little harder and he bit my softly just above my collarbone. ‘Answer me when I ask you a question, Y/N.’

‘Sorry,’ I muttered. ‘Yes, Chris.’

‘You like it when I do this to you?’ he asked, and he squeezed me again. Also, his grip on my hip tightened.

‘Yes, o god, yes, Chris,’ I told him.

His hand slowly traveled from my hip to my stomach and he made his way to my pussy. I stopped breathing for a second. My panties were already wet, and I knew that Chris felt it. He moved my panties to the side and within a blink, he put one of his fingers between my folds. I moaned loudly. Slowly, he moved his finger and a couple of seconds later he added a second finger.

‘You are so wet already,’ Chris whispered, and he kissed me behind my ear. ‘Tell me your fantasies and I might fulfill them.’

‘Oh my god, Chris,’ I said, I couldn’t think straight anymore. His fingers were doing wonders down there. I couldn’t form any logical sentences.

Chris made a disapproving noise and he released my throat. ‘I think I told you something.’

I whined. ‘Y-yes, sorry, sir. First, I’d like you to fuck me with your fingers, while you kiss my neck and throat.’

The blonde man grinned. ‘Like this?’ He began to pound his fingers in my pussy as his thumb rubbed my clit. Whilst doing this, he also started kissing my throat. Sometimes he bit me softly. I was gasping, and I kept saying his name in pleasure. His mouth ended on my breasts, where he kissed the valley between them.

‘Yes, Chris, exactly like that,’ I said out of breath. My bundle of nerves was about to explode. I didn’t know how this man did it, but every time he touched me intimately, magic happened. I could feel an orgasm being developed in my core.

‘What else?’ he whispered in my ear and his fingers sped up the pace.

‘Next-next, you slowly make a trail from my breasts to my core,’ I whimpered.

He grinned and brought his lips to one of my breasts. Slowly he began to suck on my nipple and as a reaction, my back arched. Chris his free hand pushed me down and then he let it rest on my hip.

‘Easy, kitten,’ he chuckled against my skin.

He switched to my other breast to give it the same attention. When he started to suck again, I whined, and I reached for his hair. I got hold of his hair and I began to pull it. His reaction was a slap against my ass.

‘Hands off,’ he warned me, and he shot me a glare.

I released his hair and grabbed the couch. Chris made his way from my breasts, to my stomach, to my pussy. He was still pounding his fingers in there and rubbing my clit, but when his mouth came close, he removed his thumb.

‘What happens next?’ he whispered against my pussy.

I took a deep breath. ‘You eat me out.’

Without saying anything else, Chris pressed a kiss against my folds. He removed his fingers, but soon they were replaced by his tongue. At first, he gave me little kitten licks, just to tease me. It worked, because I was squirming beneath him. I felt my orgasm coming, especially when he took my clit in his mouth.

‘Chris!’ I moaned. ‘I’m coming! Please, let me cum!’

Out of nowhere, he slowed down and eventually he removed his mouth from my pussy. ‘No.’

I was out of breath and I looked at him with wide eyes. ‘No?’

He sat up. ‘No. Bad girls are not allowed to cum. And I told you that I might fulfill your fantasies.’

When I examined his face, I saw mischief in his eyes. Oh, Mr. Evans. Two can play this game.

‘Really?’ I asked him with a low voice. ‘Maybe we should take this downstairs. I mean, bad girls should be punished, right?’

His eyes darkened and his grin grew. ‘Yes. Maybe we should.’

Chris pulled me from the couch and dragged me to the entrance hall. I followed him to the door that led to his basement. We held each other’s hand as we went down the stairs. We stopped at a door with an electronic lock. Chris typed in a password and the door clicked open. The blonde actor pushed the door open and I looked at the room in surprise.

It was big and surprisingly bright. Carefully, I scanned the place in front of me. There were so many attributes. I saw a big bed, a throne, one wall was covered with whips and sex toys and ropes, there was a sex swing, a bench and – is that a kneeler? Also, there were some things that I couldn’t identify, but I was positive that I would find out later, when Chris is done with me here.

Suddenly I felt Chris’s hands on my shoulders, moving slowly up and down my upper arms. He leant down and whispered in my ear: ‘What do you think?’

I shivered and I turned around. I locked eyes with him, and I saw that his eyes were full of lust. Mine were probably the same. Before he could do anything, I grabbed his shirt and pulled him close to me. I kissed him feverishly and before I pulled back, I bit his lower lip. Chris moaned and when I looked at him, I noticed some blood on his lip. I grinned widely.

‘I think we should start.’

#chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans reader smut #Chris Evans #chris evans reader #dungeon #chris evans y/n smut

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writingwitchly · 5 years

Text

I’m gonna do it, anyway

Hey could I please ask for a Sirius black x Slytherin female reader fanfic based of the song Rude by Magic! References from the music video too could be added if possible? ~ @arianna-17-11

Pairing: Sirius Black x fem!reader

Word count: 2,2k

A/N: Phew… My first reader insert since… ever? I think I sticked to the request right enough XD, just skipped the Slytherin specification. Hope you’ll like it. PS: I need a Sirius in my life RN.

The clock shows 9:23. The night only displays darkness.

You curse.

It’s quite usual for members of the Order to- ‘get lost’, in these times, with nothing to be done to find them.

The vegetables and white plastic planch on the kitchen counter suffer your aggressive stress.

It’s been two days and… and you haven’t heard of him…

A noise reaches you from the outside. Was it a crack? Your shoulders tense.

You’ve heard several of them, this weekend. Or at least, imagined you had. Every time you got to the window, there was nobody in the street below, apart from a couple of cats or a strolling brownish dog.

You don’t dare to check now, fearing that another desillusion might break your heart for good.

What if-

The thought makes you shiver, and the knife almost escapes your grip. You lay it down, next to the halfway chopped onion. It would be stupid to wound yourself without needing an enemy for that.

The beating of your heart climbs up to your ears. If at least he’d told you where he was going… None of the boys knows, either.

If he ever comes back alive from this, you’ll sure as heck won’t let him breathe until he draws a calendar and fills it whenever he plans on disappearing.

“Y/N!”

The voice carries its amusement through the whole flat, and makes your heart jump to your throat.

It takes you a good second realize who just closed the door.

For a good hour, you were thinking that-

For Merlin’s sake.

What kind of boyfriend disappears without leaving any trace, making you suffer the worst anguish for two days, to come back and greet you as if nothing had happened?

That’s right, a boyfriend about to be told off.

You storm out of the kitchen. “Sirius Orion Black!”

If James had been here, he’d ran for cover.

But Sirius is waiting for you, his arms wide open, at the entrance of the apartment. His leather jacket does not bear any trace of battle, except the one it fought against the wind on the drive home. His boots are firmly planted on the floor.

You stop when you are barely centimeters away from his body, and hit his chest with your fist at each word you articulate. “How. Do. You. Dare. To. Fr-”

Without waiting for you to finish the reprimand, he wraps you in a tight embrace.

You burst into tears. “I- I- I was so afraid. Wh- Where- Why did you leave with- without telling me-”

One of his thumbs draws circles on your back, his other hand is lost in your hair. He murmurs some words, but so low you barely hear them. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat calms you down.

When your hiccups have considerably diminished in intensity, Sirius makes you look up at him.

“I’m safe and sound, love. Look, no new scars.”

You count the marks on his face, on the bluish skin that hints a new beard, and are quite reassured to find none you haven’t already mended. “Your arms? Your back?”

“As sane as ever, Y/N. I promise.”

Finally, you allow yourself to sigh in relief, until you remember about your anger.

“How many times,” you blurt, “Have I asked you to- Why are you smiling like an idiot? I’m being very serious!”

His wide grin stretches the blemish on his lips. Even if it has suffered attacks and injuries, his smile hasn’t lost its appeal.

Sirius shakes his head a little, as to dissipate some fog around him. His eyes then root in yours. “You’re just so fucking gorgeous.”

You trail a finger along the rough skin that borders his grin, slumping your shoulders in a sweet defeat. “Why don’t you ever let me be angry at you, uh?” You smile faintly. “I was so worried.”

The man leaves a tender kiss on your forehead, from which a burning sensation invades your cheeks. Then, he inhales deeply. “Were you- Were you cooking?”

He accompanies his questions with a playful grimace.

Vexed, you punch his shoulder. “What does that tone mean, Black?”

He snorts. “Nothing, darling. Just that- It’s very unusual. Do you only cook when I’m not around?”

“I had to release the stress. So yes, I only cook when you’re not around. Talking of which, I should probably put the pasta on.”

And you disappear in the kitchen, a bit bitter.

A furious ripping sound announces the opening of the food box, and Sirius grins again. He loves it, when you get angry. It makes you look cute.

A few minutes later, he joins you, his hair dripping water all over the floor. He abandoned his leather jacket for a crepe t-shirt.

“It’s ready in two minutes,” you claim, stirring a the red sauce. “You can set the table.”

Sirius moves toward the cupboard, but then seems to think about it. His eyes follow the spoon with which you’re tasting the flavoring. He crosses his arms, and leans against the counter.

“I went to talk to your father.”

You choke on the pasta’s sauce, and have to spit it out in the sink to avoid asphyxion. Your eyes seem to double in size as you turn to look at your boyfriend. “You did what?”

With a sideway smirk, he simply states, “That was disgusting, darling.”

You could eat the napkin instead of using it to whip your lips. “You did what now, Sirius?”

The man’s arms fall to his sides, but he doesn’t lose his amused expression. As if he wanted to avoid crossing your stare, he bends down, and grabs the plates to set the table.

“I had to ask him something,” he finally explains, as the porcelain hits the fabric of the table cloth.

“Something to ask him!” You repeat, in a strangled voice. “You know it was a stupid thing to do.” You spin the wooden spoon in little circles, pointing at him, still shocked. “This- I would have preferred a hundred times if you’d faced an Order mission.”

“Oh, come on, darling,” he says nonchalantly, as if you were talking about what kind of spice to add to the condiment. “Your father doesn’t hate me that much.”

Your raised eyebrows are the answer he didn’t even need to confirm that yes, your father does hate him that much.

A pause installs itself, troubled only by the boiling liquids on the stove.

Sirius is the reckless boy who betrayed his family, the crazy guy who joined a pack of weirdos with a very unfavorable reputation outside their group of friends, the mischievous teen who got involved in a war without knowing how to fight properly, the irresponsible man who decided to live an unstable life, and the unforgivable idiot who took his only daughter away from home. Add to this that he’s a Black, son of Death Eaters, and has long hair, and he’s the perfect hate aim for your father.

A bubble explodes in one of the pans, and you turn the fire down.

You finally start to digest the news. “And- We couldn’t have- owled him?”

Sirius shrugs, dropping the cutlery next to the plates.

“It was hard to make him listen to me in person. I s’pose he would have thrown the letter away without even opening it.”

You nod, as if it was a reasonable argument, but don’t really consider it. “And- What was so important as to take you two days of discussion with my father?”

His smirk does not foreshadow anything good. “It didn’t take me two days. The first day I- I had to do something else.”

You were about to ask what, but you don’t want him to get an occasion to flee the topic. “So what did you talk about?”

“You’re like him, you know. Very stubborn.”

Merlin, he irritates you. “Will you just tell me?”

In response, Sirius grabs you by the hips and pulls you toward him. He drags a chair, and sits you on it.

“Fine,” he says, smiling like a child. “I will tell you.” He kneels on the floor, like he does every time he needs to tell you something important, so you have to look down at him. “I had an idea on Friday. I mean, I have been thinking about this for a long time, but on Friday it became- really clear.”

You nod, wondering what in the world can make him so serious.

“And it was- Important to tell your father about it. So on Sunday, I knock-”

“On Sunday, because you had to do something on Saturday,” you say, a mocking perplexity influencing your expression. If you weren’t so worried about the outcome of the declaration, you’d probably find the situation comical.

Sirius nods. “I love you because you’re clever, too,” he teases. “I- had to buy something on Saturday. So I knocked, and Godric, you should have seen his face when he opened the door.”

A hint of amusement lights his eyes up, and you can indeed imagine your father opening the door to one of the people he’d most want to forget in his life.

“Did he close it back immediately?”

“Well, yeah.” His embarrassed grin makes you tilt your head back in laughter. “But I knocked again, like- a thousand times, because Moony told me to do s-”

“Wait a second!” You hold your palm up. “Remus was there with you?”

Sirius’s face contracts in a I-shouldn’t-have-said-that mask, a perfect copy of Hagrid’s.

“And- The other boys too?”

Your boyfriend opens his mouth to answer, but no words come out of it.

“I worried like crazy, and their letters said they didn’t know where you were, but never mind it,” you say, creasing your brow, in a tone which clearly communicates to actually mind it. Sirius caresses your arm in apologize. “Go ahead.”

Mental note of calling them all, one by one, after that.

Sheepishly, he continues. “Your father ended up listening, after all, and he was rud- not too thrilled about it. He first told me to- go count the daisies in the prairies, or something like that. He may have thought it was all a joke. But then, he saw my serious face and he just blurted that ‘no, never’. And he told me to disappear forever from his life and from yours.”

You know your father doesn’t like him at all, but you didn’t think it was to this level.

“What the heck, Sirius? What-”

But your boyfriend is unstoppable in his speech, “I said that this was going to be difficult, that we’re madly in love, and we’d go anywhere together.” To your dark look, he corrects himself, “I mean, apart from those last two days, but that was an exception. He said that his answer was no, and would always be the same. So I said that I would do it anyway, and he told me to-”

“Sirius!” You call him back to the present. “You’re not making much sense. I don’t think I can understand unless you tell me what you talked about.”

The man closes his eyes, and nods. “Sorry… Just- just the stress, probably.”

You realize that the topic must be really important. Why would he be avoiding it so much, if not?

An army of little soldiers start marching in your stomach.

“Stress?”

He smiles, “Remember that time when you were having a family dinner and your father invited a- special guest?”

You roll your eyes, “They wanted to set me up with Avery. Too bad I was already in love with you.” You grin too, pushing one of his loose dark curls behind his ear. “But what’s the-”

“I came to your rescue, with the boys. And we brought you to the park.”

Flashes of that night dance before your eyes. The music floated between the trees, Remus shot sparkles into the air, Peter and Kingsley sang an old lullaby, completely out of tune, and Frank and Alice flirted heavily as you cried at them to get a room.

It’s one of the best moments you’ve ever lived. Lily and James’ bubbly laughter, your flower crown, Sirius’ warm lips on yours...

“What did you tell me, that night, darling?”

There is no need to dig too deep in your memories to remember. “I said you’re the man I want to live with for the rest of my life,” you whisper. The soldiers in your stomach light up a million fireworks. “Are you-”

A loud bang cuts you off, followed by loud conversation, cheers, and whistles. You both raise up, and turn toward the door of the kitchen. There’s some worry on your traits.

A second later, Marlene’s face peeps out from behind the wall. “What did she say?”

The sweet smell of the forgotten pasta sauce makes you dizzy. As all of your friends gather before your eyes, your hand looks for your boyfriend’s presence behind you to steady yourself.

When you finally get a grip on his shoulder, you slowly turn around, “Sirius-”

But Sirius silences your question with a soft kiss, while he closes your fist over something small and cold. Something circular.

Then he kneels down again.

Permanent tag list: @miss-nerd0905 @funnymrspotter @obsessionsandothersandmore @daytodayfun @electraheart-isdead @laurenslines @rochelle-the-ravenclaw @wildfire-whizbangs @beaubcxton @reggieblck

Sirius tag list: @glitteryfreakslimeegg @janhvi11

#sirius black #sirius black imagine #sirius imagine #sirius x reader #hp imagine #sirius black x reader #reader insert #this feels like… idek what… it had been so long #***writingr

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filmfanatic82 · 7 years

Text

The Long Game (Chapter 2: Whatever it Takes)

AO3 Link (HERE)

Kim sits, curled up in a lone armchair in the far corner of her penthouse suite, staring out through the large picture window onto the Vegas strip below. A hint of warm, amber rays are just starting to peek out from above the mountainous horizon.

It’s early. Too early to be up, but from the looks of it, Kim hasn’t even shut her eyes all night.

“Where am I,” Trini’s hoarse voice calls out, breaking the silence in the room.

Kim instantly snaps out of her thoughts and glances over towards the king sized bed to find Trini starting to stir awake. “The Bellagio? I think. It’s the one with the dancing fountains, right?”

“I’m at the Bellagio?” A hint of panic laced with confusion taints Trini’s response as she attempts to push herself up in the bed but is immediately met with blinding pain. “Jesus! Fuck.”

“You shouldn’t be moving.” Kim hops up off of the chair and races over to the bed. She reaches out to help Trini lay back down, but Trini swats her away. “I mean it. You’ve got some serious injuries, T.”

“Why am I here?” Trini asks as she falls back into the safe confines of the surrounding feather pillows.

“Cause it’s my hotel room.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I asked you why.”

Kim lets out a sigh and runs her hands through her hair. “Because it’s safe. At least for the time being.”

“From those freakazoids?”

“Yeah.”

An awkward silence falls between the two of them for a moment as neither one seems to know what to do or say next, then--

“Here.” Kim digs into her jeans pocket, pulls out her pink power coin and places it near Trini. “It’ll help you heal.”

Trini glances at the coin and then back at Kim with a softened look. “Thanks.”

Kim gives a nod in response and then gets back up off of the bed. “You should rest some more. It’s still pretty early.”

“Are you…” Trini trails off, almost as if she’s afraid to finish her question.

But Kim already knows what she’s trying to ask.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about. I’m going nowhere til you wake back up, okay?”

“Okay.” Trini meets Kim’s eye and, for the first time, there’s a vulnerability there. It’s just the briefest of glimpses. Nowhere near the level that they once had when things were less complicated, but it’s at least a start.

And for Kim, it’s good enough for now.

Kim re-positions herself back into the armchair and watches Trini drift off once again to sleep.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“No… No… Please, let her go!”

Kimberly startles awake to the sound of Trini’s cries and without a moment’s hesitation, wraps her arms tightly around her thrashing girlfriend. She nuzzles her head into the crook of Trini’s neck, strategically positioning her lips only millimeters away from Trini’s ear. Kimberly moves in a way that signifies that this is nothing new to her.

“Shh… Baby, it’s okay… You’re okay,” Kimberly whispers like a prayer to Trini and then, ever so gently kisses her on her jawline.

Upon contact of Kimberly’s lips, Trini’s thrashing instantly subsides. Her face cycles through a series of grimaces as she elicits light whimpers.

“It’s just a dream, T. You’re safe.” Kimberly gently strokes the top of Trini’s head, in a slow rhythmic pattern.

“Kim?” Trini croaks out, still half asleep.

“Yes, baby. I’m here.”

Trini re-adjusts herself in Kimberly’s arms, rolling over so that they’re face to face. “Sorry.”

“Same dream?”

Trini gives the slightest of nods as her teeth sink down into her bottom lip.

“Wanna tell me about it?”

“It’s stupid,” Trini huffs out in a mumble, in an attempt to downplay it.

But Kimberly knows better. She reaches out and plants a tender kiss on Trini’s forehead and then locks eyes with her girlfriend, giving a stern but loving stare. “What’ve I said about that?”

“God, you’re such a mom.” A playful smirk crawls across Trini’s face as she returns the kiss.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you, Princess.”

“If my memory serves me right, that’s not the name you were calling me last night when I was between your--”

Trini’s lips descend upon Kimberly in a deep, passionate kiss, conveying a world of emotions. Emotions that there are simply no words for.

Kimberly momentarily loses herself, snaking her hands deep into Trini’s ombre locks. She pulls her in closer desperate for more. Trini’s lips are nothing short of addicting and at this moment, Kimberly can’t seem to get enough.

Finally, Trini leans out of the kiss, resting her forehead against Kimberly’s and releases a much needed sigh.

“Better?”

“Yes. Way better.” Trini rolls back around, returning to her little spoon position and nuzzles up into Kimberly’s body.

Kimberly’s fingers begins to card their way through Trini’s hair, lightly massaging her scalp in the process. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nuthin’” Trini hums in response as she leans back into Kimberly’s hands.

“I can hear you thinking.”

“Right. And I’m psychic,” Trini sarcastically fires back with a bit of a chuckle.

“T…”

Trini takes a moment, chewing on the inside of her cheek, and then--

“What if we weren’t as lucky the next time around?”

“What do you mean lucky?”

“With Rita. We just kinda lucked out. If Zordon didn’t already have a way to bring someone back from the dead, then Billy would be…” Trini trails off, not wanting to finish her sentence. She shifts in Kimberly’s arms, tensing ever so slightly. “Told ya it was stupid.”

Kimberly stops massaging Trini’s scalp and once again wraps her arms like a human shield around Trini’s body, giving her a squeeze as she does. “I’ll never let anything happen to you. You know that, right?”

“You can’t promise that, Princess.”

“Why not?”

“Cause you can’t.”

“Well, I am. I, Kimberly Ann Hart, promise that you, Trini Marie Gomez, will be 150% okay.”

Trini lets out a sigh in mild frustration and rolls back towards Kimberly again. “You’re crazy.”

“For you? Yes.” A devilish smile crawls across Kimberly’s lips. In one swift motion, she pushes Trini’s shoulders down, pinning her against the bed and then swings her leg over Trini’s hips so that she’s straddling her.

Trini matches Kimberly’s smile as she suggestively bucks her hips upwards. “Oh yeah, Princess?”

“Yeah.” Kimberly answers Trini by lowering herself down, grinding her core deep into Trini in the process. It’s clear where this is heading. “Now shut up and let me show you.”

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Kim stares at the bathroom door, unable to will herself to move as the sounds of the shower running echo throughout the suite.

It’s been four hours since their last, middle of the night exchange. Four hours of sitting, wide awake with nothing but her thoughts. And, of course, memories… Hundreds of thousands of moments over the last eight years. Moments of wondering where she was. If she was okay. If she had found love again…

So many unanswered questions.

Kim’s skin crawls with the itch to ask them all. To just drive them to the nearest Krispy Kreme, order a strawberry donut or two, and spend the next few hours getting to know each other once again. As if the last eight years were a horrible dream.

But Kim’s knows better. She can’t. Not after she has sacrificed so much.

Kim’s swallows down the growing lump in her throat and then with all the courage she can muster, knocks on the bathroom door.

“Yeah?” Trini’s voice calls out over the sound of the shower.

“It’s me. I’ve got some clothes.”

Kim waits for a moment or two in the uncomfortable silence waiting for Trini’s voice, but then--

CLICK.

The sound of the bathroom door unlocking cuts through the steady stream of water hitting tile.

Kim hesitates for a second, eyes locked in on the door before her as she takes a deep breath. Then, with slightly trembling hands, she pushes it open and is instantly met with a face full of steam.

Kim cautiously takes a single step into the bathroom, not daring to venture any further. She’s already has intruded so much… and knows that she doesn’t have that right anymore.

“Um… I grabbed you a t-shirt and jeans. Might be a bit big on you, but figured you’d want something clean,” Kimberly stumbles through her words as she places a pile of haphazardly folded clothes onto the bathroom counter, eyes desperately trying to focus in on anything but the glass shower stall directly to her left.

“Cool,” Trini replies in nothing more than a whisper, barely audible over the steady sound of the shower.

“No problem.” Kim attempts to move but once again finds herself frozen in place. Ever so slowly her gaze inches upwards towards the mirror in front of her and catches sight of--

Trini.

Deep down inside, Kim knows better. She shouldn’t be staring… let alone in that bathroom at all. But god temptation is a bitch of a thing.

Kim’s lingers in the moment as her eyes take in the all too familiar silhouetted curves of her ex-girlfriend. But then, in an instant, it all becomes too much… way too much.

Kim pulls her eyes away and quickly ducks out of the bathroom, making sure to close the door behind her. She collapses down against the wall, drawing her knee up close as her hand mindlessly wanders up to the pendant hidden beneath the confines of her heather gray t-shirt.

“Just breathe,” Kimberly reminds herself as her fingers trace the outline over and over again. “Breathe.”

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“You’re shitting me, right?” Trini huffs out with a breath of annoyance as she crosses her arms firmly against her chest and slumps down in her chair.

“What?” Kim glances up, mid-sip of her coffee from across the table.

“This.” Trini motions around them at the endless sea of people gorging themselves on plates brimming full of an array of food. “Of all the places in this god forsaken city--”

“It’s the safest,” Kim replies cutting her off, taking a bite of a danish. “Buffets are the easiest places to blend in. Plus, the whole help yourself thing means less interruptions from a waiter or waitress.”

Trini takes another look around them as she sits on Kim’s words for a moment or two. Slowly, she unfolds her arms in a sign on slight agreement and then starts going about fixing her coffee. Trini snatches up the nearby cream and sugar, adding a heaping helping of each.

Kim can’t help but let a light chuckle slip at the sight of this.

“What?” Trini stops mid pour of cream and shoots Kim a skeptical look.

“Just forgot. That’s all.”

“Forgot what?”

“That you take you’ve cream and sugar with a splash of coffee.” The edges of Kim’s lips ever so slightly curl upwards as she busies herself with another sip of her coffee.

“Ass,” Trini mumbles back with a hint of amusement to her voice.

The two sit in silences for a moment, just drinking their coffees, then--

“So, you’re gonna tell me what the hell attacked me yesterday?”

“I told you, you weren’t safe.”

“Yeah. Got that. But what the hell were those faceless freaks?”

“Order of the First,” Kim responses, finishing off her danish. “It’s a force that predates everything in the known universe and is apparently the root of all things evil.”

“So, what do they want?”

“Two guesses.”

“The Zeo Crystal,” Trini answers with a heavy sigh. She tucks a stray lock of her hair behind her ear revealing a series of intricate piercings that snake up her left ear lobe.

“Those are new.”

“Huh?”

“Those.” Kim motions towards Trini’s ear with her free hand.

“Oh.” Trini hand flies up to her ear in the sudden realization as to what Kim’s referring to. “No. I’ve had them forever. Actually been meaning to take them out for a while now but--”

“You shouldn't,” Kim replies cutting Trini off. Her response coming a bit too quick… a bit too revealing.

Sensing herself losing control, Kim instantly reigns her emotions back in, swallowing them down with another long sip of coffee.

“What do you want from me?” Trini’s words are heavy but straightforward, lacking any sort of lingering anger or resentment.

“I need you to come back to Angel Grove with me.”

“Just me?”

“No,” Kim sighs as she runs her hands through her hair. “All of us.”

“But you started with me cause you knew I’d be the hardest one,” Trini replies almost as if she can read Kim’s mind. She lets a small laugh escapes in sheer disbelief. “Fucking unbelieveable, Hart.”

“Name your price.”

A look of utter confusion sweeps across Trini’s face as she registers what Kim’s has just said. “What?”

“Name your price,” Kim says it again, this time with a bit more gravitas to her voice.

“Three million,” Trini blurts out without even giving it another moment’s thought.

“Done.”

“Bullshit.”

Kim simply reaches into her pocket, pulls out her phone and with a few quick taps on the screen, hands it over to Trini. “There’s roughly nine million in that account and it’s not the only one I’ve got. You come with me to Angel Grove and help me round up the others, then after this is all over, the three million is all yours. No questions asked.”

Trini stares at the screen, unable to look away. Clearly, those aren’t numbers that she sees everyday. “Shit. I should’ve asked for more.”

Kim gives a shrug of her shoulders and downs the rest of her coffee. “Do we have a deal?”

“Yeah.” Trini hands back over the phone and as she does, her fingers lightly graze over the top of Kim’s hand. “We’ve got a deal, Kimberly.”

“It’s Kim. No one has called me Kimberly since...” Kim trails off, eyes finally making their way upwards to meet Trini’s.

“Yeah. That’s ain’t happening. You’re always gonna be Kimberly. No matter how badass you try to be.”

With that, Trini gets up from the table and makes her way towards the buffet, leaving Kimberly sitting there, alone with her thoughts.

#trimberly #trini #kimberly hart #trini x kimberly #power rangers #fanfic #power ranger movie

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littleoldrachel · 7 years

Text

Fourth chapter is up! Read it here on ao3, or here on ff.net, or under the cut.

100 Ways to Say I Love You

Summary: In which actions speak louder than words, Sirius and Remus sort of fall in to a relationship, and even though neither of them have said those three all-important words, they both know it anyway.Or: 100 Ways to Say I Love You by Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.

Previous | chapter 4/100 - “Come here, let me fix it.” | Next

Based on this post by p0ck3tf0x

Tw for anxiety like woah, terrible parenting, mentions of vomit but no actual vomit.

3. “Come here, let me fix it.”

There isn’t a single part of Sirius’ body that isn’t trembling, and he keeps forgetting to breathe – then concentrating too hard on it, then panicking and forgetting once more. He’s pale and sweating through his suit, and he knows that checking his watch every four seconds is helping nothing, but there’re only two hours to go – or one hundred and twenty-one minutes, or seven-thousand-two-hundred-and-sixty-seconds, seven-thousand-two-hundred-and-fifty-nine-seconds, seven-thousand-two-hundred-and-fifty-eight-seconds-

In approximately two hours, Sirius has the biggest job interview of his life, and he doesn’t mean to be melodramatic, but he literally doesn’t know how he’s going to survive until then (how fast does your heart have to beat before it gives out?). Which is why Remus – wonderful, supportive, kind Remus – is going to come and keep him distracted until then, because otherwise he will actually have a heart attack, and keel over right here in this bustling street, and wouldn’t that just be a tragedy?

Remus is late, which isn’t unusual for him, but with every extra second on his own, Sirius can feel himself slipping further and further towards a panic attack because fuck, why does he think he can do this?

(He can’t – his parents were right, his teachers were right, he’s not good enough, he’s never going to be good enough-)

The thing is – this interview is kind of a Big Deal. It’s not that he doesn’t like working at The Marauder Corner – he does, and he’ll be eternally grateful to Frank for supporting him. He finally feels like he knows what he’s doing now, and he hasn’t screwed up an order in three (three!) days. He’s figured out how to smile for tips, who the nicest regulars are, and he’s starting to feel safe there – he’s comfortable. But… in the meantime, he has a hard-won First Class Bachelor’s Degree in Illustration & Graphic Design going to waste, and after everything he went through with his parents to be allowed to study it, with his mental health to actually complete it, it’s driving him a little bit crazy that he’s not doing anything with it.

It’s not that he hasn’t been on the hunt for jobs; it’s more that freelance illustration is hard to get in to, it’s hard to find regular clients, it’s hard to make a decent living, and for once in his life, Sirius just wanted one thing to be easy.

But this interview could change all of that. Queerllustration is a small company, who produce web comics for both educational and entertainment purposes, and they’re currently looking for a new, full-time Graphic Designer. As the name suggests, they make art about LGBT+ people, created by LGBT+ people, for LGBT+ people, and Sirius has been in love with their work since he first stumbled across their nonbinary superhero character, Eclipse. Working for them would be the absolute dream – he just has to convince them he’s good enough.

(Which is going to be difficult, considering he can’t even convince himself).

“Hey, you,” the voice is warm and gentle, and the touch on his arm is light, but Sirius still flinches sharply, and Remus withdraws immediately. He looks breathless and tired, but he’s smiling brightly at him, even if his eyes are a little crinkled in concern.

(Six thousand, six hundred seconds to go).

“Alright?” He tries for a confident smile, burying his face in Remus’ shoulder briefly as he pulls him in for a hug, but his insides are still liquid.

“Have you eaten yet?” Remus asks, still not quite releasing him (probably for the best – Sirius’ knees have forgotten how not to shake, which is making standing a Problem), and peering inside the café.

Sirius is torn – if he says no, Remus will make him eat something, and then he might be sick – what if he vomits all over the interviewers??? – but if he says yes, he’ll be lying to Remus. The thought of lying to him, even over something so trivial, makes him feel just as nauseous as eating will. In the end though, he doesn’t have to choose, because Remus knows him well enough to mutter, “no then,” whilst steering him gently towards the door.

It’s a mark of how anxious he’s getting, that Sirius doesn’t even register Remus sitting him down at a table, queuing, ordering and paying – and Sirius notices things, his anxiety won’t let him not document every tiny detail of a situation, to the extent that it’s overwhelming and too much, but now, he’s losing entire pockets of time, and he’s terrified.

There’s a large pumpkin spice latte sitting in front of him, and moments later, a tomato and mozzarella panini slides across to join it. Remus slips in to the seat opposite with his own food, and Sirius tries to smile his thanks – his heart tugs a little at the fact that Remus knows him so well – but it comes out as more of a grimace.

He clears his throat, hand clenching the table leg to give him something to ground himself on, and mumbles, “thanks, Moony.” Remus gives him a thumbs-up, his own mouth already full with an egg salad sandwich, and Sirius seizes on this detail, this normalcy. “I thought you didn’t like the egg sandwiches here?”

Remus swallows with difficulty, and shrugs. “S’alright. There aren’t many kosher options, this is fine.” Sirius nods absently, and shifts his grip from the table leg to around his mug – it’s a little too hot to hold, but the burn helps him to concentrate. Remus tracks this movement with a frown, and then continues, “anyway, we’re not here to talk egg sandwiches. How are you doing?”

Sirius forces himself to take a sip of his latte, eyes closing briefly in pleasure at its warm sweetness. (If Remus were a drink, he’d be a pumpkin spice latte, he thinks vaguely, then catches himself and nearly chokes on his drink). “I’m – uh – okay?” he says, and Remus rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, no, try again.”

“I’m – I’m not. Uh. Okay,” Sirius whispers to his panini, and Remus’ fingers hover momentarily above Sirius’ wrist, giving him time to pull away, before gently closing around it. Sirius pulls his gaze up to meet Remus’ eyes, and kind of wants to burst in to tears at the sheer concern and care he sees there. He’s clenching his drink so tightly that his knuckles are white but his fingers are still fucking shaking.

“Would talking about it help?” Remus asks softly. “Or do you need to be distracted?”

Sirius shakes his head helplessly, “I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t- “

“Breathe, Pads,” Remus slides his hand down to Sirius’, where it’s clamped around the mug, and unpeels his fingers slowly, intertwining their fingers together. Sirius gazes at their hands for a second – he’s lost and scared and shaking, but he’s also anchored to Remus – Remus isn’t going to let him get hurt.

Sirius lets out a shaky breath, and takes another sip of his drink, swallowing down the anxiety for a moment. “Can you – I don’t – can we talk about something else for a bit?”

“Anything,” Remus squeezes his hand, then lets go, and Sirius instantly misses his warm grip. His fingers scrabble for something to fiddle with, land on his panini, and begin tearing it in to strips. Remus glances at him, but doesn’t try and stop him. “So, did you talk to Prongs and Lils after last week?”

Sirius pulls a face. “Sticking with the difficult conversations, are we?”

Remus shrugs, biting in to his sandwich. “You tell me.”

“I did, yeah.” The bread is thoroughly shredded now, and Sirius absent-mindedly begins separating the ingredients in to different piles. “He cried, I cried, everyone cried.”

Remus snorts, but not unkindly. “I think I’d be more worried if Prongs didn’t cry, to be honest.”

Sirius lets out a huff that ordinarily would have been a laugh. “It went like you said it would. He – he was really upset I ever thought they wouldn’t want me around. Said I’m – uh –“ his voice cracks a little. “More special to him than I’d ever know.” He flaps his hand a little, unable to vocalise everything the conversation had mended in him – that it had filled in cracks in his heart that he hadn’t even realised were forming. Of course, it won’t last – his anxiety will be back again soon enough, worming its way in to his weak spots. But for now, at least, he knows that James loves him unconditionally and would never want him to leave.

(It doesn’t hurt that James has doubled his number of daily reassurances, and started leaving him little post-it notes saying you’re so loved all over the place).

“I’m really glad,” says Remus, bringing him back to the present. The anxiety surges back in an unpleasant wave and he takes a breath, desperately looking for another distraction.

“I got a message from Reg on Facebook,” he blurts suddenly – then regrets it, because he’s not ready to unpack that yet at all, but nor is he ready to tackle the topic of the interview.

Remus looks momentarily bewildered at the abrupt subject change, but then raises his eyebrows curiously.

Sirius looks down at the heaps of separated food in panic, and stuffs the bread in to his mouth so that he has time to think. He swallows with difficulty, and says, “he was just checking in, I think. I haven’t read it properly. I – uh – he wanted to know that I wasn’t homeless, I think.”

“That’s… good?” says Remus cautiously.

“Yeah,” Sirius says, only it comes out with too much forced-cheerfulness, and they both wince. “I mean – I think so. Part of me, this is going to sound insane, but… what if my parents are using him to find me?” He glances at Remus’ expression, expecting to see scorn or disdain, but Remus just looks thoughtful.

“I don’t think Reg would do that to you. Maybe he never stood up to your family, but I don’t think he would actually turn on you like that.”

Sirius blinks a little, feeling a lump in his throat and a prickling behind his eyes. “Thank you for not telling me I’m being paranoid… I – thank you.”

Remus nods, still looking thoughtful, and there’s a comfortable quiet as Remus finishes off the rest of his sandwich, whilst Sirius chews through the pile of bread, and makes a start on the tomato slices.

Then –

“So,” Remus says, glancing at his wrist. “You have an hour to go.”

Sirius jolts, the panic racing back down his arms, his legs, through his fingers and toes, and paralysing him in an icy chokehold. He forces a breath in before he completely freaks out, and another, fingers clenching the table hard. Remus’ hands find his own, wrapping around them in a comforting grip. “Sorry, I – I just thought we could maybe talk about the interview? If that might help?”

“Give me a sec,” Sirius manages, and Remus immediately removes his hands, retreating apologetically. Sirius wants to scream because that’s not what he meant, but words are too hard at the moment. They sit in silence for a few minutes whilst Sirius tries to get his fucking shit together, and then Remus leans forwards again nervously.

“We don’t have to, Pads,” he says quietly. “It was just a suggestion, we can-“

“Can you – uh – “ Sirius scrubs at his face. “Can you, like, look at my portfolio? I’m not asking for like – praise – I’m not trying to be modest – I just – all I can hear is my dad screaming at me that I’m not enough and ripping up my art -and I – I just need- “

“Padfoot, I’d love to see your art. Anything you want to show me.” Remus brushes a reassuring thumb over the back of Sirius’ hand, and reaches for the portfolio leaning against his satchel.

Sirius watches Remus open the folder, but then looks away quickly, unable to watch Remus’ expression change. Objectively, he knows that it’s good – he didn’t get a first for nothing, he knows that the bold colouring, the quirky characters, the attention to detail – it’s all good, he is good. But is he good enough? And what if it’s too similar to the stuff they already do? He took inspiration from Queerllustration for his final project after all; they might decide he’s just an overenthusiastic fan with no real creative talent of his own. He tries his best to shove down the voice that sounds a lot like his father’s, and picks at the remaining tomato seeds, feeling like he’s awaiting a criminal sentence.

Remus lets out a little gasp, and Sirius can’t help but look up sharply. Remus’ expression is – a myriad of things: warmth, awe, surprise, delight – and he leans over the pages to look closer, shoving his glasses further up his nose. He’s stopped on a city scape scene – it’s London by night, the silhouette of a caped and masked figure standing clearly against the night sky, and Remus is currently tracing the tiny shimmering stars, with his mouth in a little ‘o’ shape. He glances up, catches Sirius’ eye, and shakes his head disbelievingly. “Every time I think you can’t get any better, you blow me away, Pads." He runs a finger over the tiny details of the golden streetlights, the miniscule red buses, the shadowy skyscrapers with their hundreds of minute windows, and looks back up with a beam. “This is stunning. And-“ he flips back a few pages, to a watercolour of a collection of animals. (Watercolour isn’t his strongest medium, but he was particularly proud of how these turned out – the gentler shades allowed for a dappled light effect – and besides, it was important to show he could be diverse). “I love this, it feels so… familiar in a way? It’s just so lovely, I can’t put my finger on it exactly, but I think this is one of my favourites.” He reverently presses his fingertips against where the wolf and the black dog are touching snouts, at the way the rat is scampering up the buck’s back.

(Sirius can’t quite explain what Remus’ words are doing to him. It’s almost like he’s being punched in the gut, but with a warmth and an affection so strong that it takes his breath away, something soft and fragile blooming in his chest and pressing back against the panic nestling in his lungs).

“Do you mean that?” he croaks out at last, whilst Remus continues to pore through his artwork – the costume designs, the portraits, the fight scene – with occasional exclamations of admiration.

Remus looks up, his expression earnest and kind. “Of course, Pads. I don’t – you’re so talented. I just – you’re phenomenal, and I mean – I don’t know anything about art,” he smiles a little self-deprecatingly, “but I know that Queerllustration are fools if they don’t hire you.”

Something akin to relief sparks in Sirius’ heart, and it’s not enough to quench the anxiety still resting there (nothing is ever enough), but it loosens its grip a little, it plants a brittle seed of hope there, and Sirius can smile without feeling like he’s about to shatter. He idly pops a mozzarella slice in to his mouth from the small, final heap of food, and returns Remus’ grin as best as he can.

“Thank you,” he says softly, wishing he could convey exactly how much Remus’ reassurances mean to him, how much Remus means to him. (It’s not like James and Lily and every single one of his friends haven’t offered their own reassurances, of course they have. It’s just that there’s something about Remus’ compassionate smile, his kind honesty, his general Remus-ness that makes Sirius feel like he could accomplish almost anything).

“Of course,” Remus says, giving him a look that’s so full of care and warmth that Sirius can actually feel the glow it bathes him in. He bites his lip, and then says, “can I ask – what is it that you’re most afraid of? Like, I completely understand why you’re anxious – I just – what – argh,” he flaps his hands in frustration, “I’m fucking this up.”

“You’re not,” says Sirius quickly. “I get what you’re trying to say.” Remus looks relieved, as Sirius chews on his mozzarella thoughtfully. “I think the thing is that if - if I – uh – if I fuck this interview up, I – everything my parents ever said about me is-“

“Still all filthy, awful lies,” says Remus fiercely. “Nothing they have ever said about you is true, none of it, Padfoot, I swear it.”

The protectiveness causes the little seed of hope in his chest to swell, and he finds himself blinking back tears again. (Remus is a better friend than he deserves – better than anyone deserves).

“Did you talk to your therapist?” Remus says, more gently.

Sirius looks down, feeling the guilt drop in to his stomach like a stone.

“Hey, no, it’s okay if you didn’t. I was just asking.”

“Please don’t hate me,” Sirius begins.

“Never,” says Remus vehemently.

“- I, uh, I maybe haven’t been to therapy in three weeks?” He’s too ashamed to meet Remus’ eyes – whilst he hasn’t lied directly to any of them, he’s been feeling awful about this ever since the first time he got to the office and couldn’t face walking through the door. He’s been longing to tell someone honestly – but they’ve slowly stopped asking and checking up on his sessions, trusting him enough to be a fucking adult and get the help he needs. But they didn’t ask, and he didn’t tell, and it went on and on, and every time he missed it, he got more and more anxious about going back-

“I don’t – what happened?” Remus doesn’t sound angry, or shocked, or annoyed. Just concerned and a little confused, and it’s the care that gives Sirius the courage to look up at him again.

He shrugs, “the sessions were kind of helpful… but I got so nervous about going, and then one week, I just couldn’t go. And then it sort of… spiralled?”

Remus’ face is kind and understanding. “I get it,” he clears his throat. “I did a similar thing a couple years back. Things were fine until bam, suddenly they weren’t, and I just went straight back home to bed without going to my appointment, and I couldn’t bring myself to get out again.”

(Remus gets it. He actually gets it – and as much as Sirius loathes the idea of Remus suffering in any kind of way – physically, mentally, emotionally, whatever – the fact that he gets it and he understands makes Sirius feel less alone, less ashamed, less like a fuckup).

“What did you do?” Sirius asks, because he vaguely remembers this, but Remus used to struggle far more frequently than he does now, and he knows that as a group, they handled some of them better than others.

“Some pretty great friends told me that I didn’t have to stick with that therapist if it wasn’t the right fit. That there were other options. That they would still love and support me, no matter what.” His voice wobbles a little, but he looks determined. “The point is, the same applies here. You can try someone else if you like. Or look in to other treatments – maybe your meds need adjusting? But whatever happens, we all love and support you, and – uh – I’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell us before.”

“It wasn’t that,” says Sirius hastily, “it was more that I was just embarrassed I couldn’t function like an adult. Like – you all have real jobs, and you all manage everything, and have your shit together, and I’m just a hot mess-“

“I promise you, we don’t have our shit together,” says Remus. “Yesterday I cried because I couldn’t pick which pair of socks to wear. Alice rang me to tell me she ate an entire box of Coco Pops in one sitting and was freaking out in case they weren’t halal. Wormtail has reapplied for uni four separate times. None of us have our shit together, if that helps.”

Sirius grins in spite of himself because fuck he adores his ridiculous, crazy, wonderful friends. Remus continues, “we could have been better though. So I’m sorry, and we’re all here for you for whatever you need.”

“Ditto,” Sirius says softly, nudging Remus’ ankle with his own, and Remus’ gaze drops, his shoulders tensing. Sirius frowns, “you know that, right?”

Remus doesn’t meet Sirius’ eyes as he says, “yeah sure,” and then gets up to return their plates to the counter. Sirius frowns after him, making a mental note to actually have an honest conversation with Remus about his mental health, but then checks his watch and blanches because he has twelve-hundred-seconds, eleven-hundred-and-ninety-nine-seconds-

“Come on,” Remus is back, and pulling him to his feet, and Sirius goes in a sort of daze. He does feel better than he did before; he’s not losing pockets of time anymore, and the food sitting in his stomach is a weight that keeps him somewhat grounded – though not as much as Remus’ hand around his wrist.

It’s slightly better when they get outside – the light breeze coupled with Remus’ nattering soothes his frayed nerves a little, and he takes a few deep breaths, fragile but not shattering, the hope in his heart holding him together. The short walk goes by too fast, and before he knows what’s happening, the two of them are standing outside a building covered in rainbow art.

“Go get ‘em, tiger,” says Remus, pulling him in for one final hug, allowing Sirius to cling a little longer than usual. “You’ve got this, we love you, you’re amazing.”

Sirius nods. “I’m amazing,” he repeats, and Remus bursts in to laughter.

“Damn straight you are!”

“Take that back! There’s nothing straight about me!” Sirius says, in mock-affront.

“I apologise,” says Remus solemnly, and Sirius beams back – his head is spinning with how much he adores this man; there are very few people in the world who can momentarily make him forget his troubles like that, who can build him up with compliments and smiles, but Remus is one of them.

“I’ll call you later?” he says, making to walk in through the door.

“Wait,” Remus calls, and Sirius turns back to him. “Come here, let me fix it.” He gestures at Sirius’ tie, and Sirius flushes, but allows Remus to retie it, straighten the knot, and tuck it back in to his jacket. “Very handsome,” he says with a cheeky, dimpled grin, and Sirius sort of melts. “And you’d better call.”

“I will,” Sirius promises, and then strides in to the building, before the anxiety can do so much as hiss that he’s going to let them all down.

Three hours later, Sirius is on the evening shift at the Marauder Corner, when he gets a call from an unknown number. He smiles apologetically at Frank, who rolls his eyes but lets him slip in to the kitchens, and he answers breathlessly.

(The conversation that ensues is brief but it’s enough – it’s more than enough – it’s everything).

The job is his.

(He did it, he actually did it, fuck his parents, fuck his teachers, he is amazing).

He manages to splutter his acceptance, his gratitude and hangs up, then cries so hard he almost makes himself sick, and rings Remus, who sounds all sorts of choked-up-proud-love-care-happiness. When he finally gets home, having spent the rest of his shift in an overjoyed daze, making clumsy mistakes and spilling sugar and coffee grains everywhere, it’s to a surprise party, and he is overwhelmed with happiness and love and warmth.

James shouts out a quick warning before he tackles him to the ground in a hug. Alice, queen of baking forever and ever, has made him a gorgeous rainbow cake, topped with smarties. Peter gives him a flower crown, which Kingsley steals halfway through the night (“because I look so good in daisies, I should just wear them always”) and -

Remus waits until the excitable chaos has calmed down a little before approaching Sirius. “Hey, you,” he says, dropping in to the just-vacated seat next to Sirius. James has his head in Sirius’ lap, but he shuffles along, plopping in to Peter’s instead, and starting a sign conversation, complimenting Peter’s new violet hair.

“Hey, Moonbeam,” Sirius smiles back at him, leaning his head against Remus’ shoulder. Remus allows him to tuck himself against his side, slipping an arm around him.

“I know I said this before, but I’m so bloody proud of you, Pads,” he says softly, and they’re both watching Frank and Lily dancing, but it’s somehow just as intense as if they were holding each other’s gaze.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Sirius murmurs back, finding Remus’ hand, and squeezing it. Remus doesn’t move for a second, and then, very slowly and deliberately, he raises their intertwined hands to his lips, and presses a gentle kiss against their fingers.

Sirius doesn’t breathe, doesn’t blink, doesn’t move – doesn’t want anything to break this spell, because they are on the verge of something, something is about to change between them –

But then there’s a smashing sound, and Kingsley is staring, wide-eyed, at the floor, looking guiltily at where he’s dropped a mug, which is now in pieces.

And the moment is lost.

Remus extricates his hand, and stands up without looking at Sirius. He walks over to James, who’s fretting a little trying to make sure nobody gets shards of china in their feet, and makes his excuses, claiming a stomach-ache and tiredness.

And Sirius just –

Watches him go.

#littleoldrachel writes #writing #fic #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #100 ways to say i love you

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eyez-ff-blog · 7 years

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○○ eyez | outtake six

THE FADER | Meet the Coles

J. Cole has cemented himself in history as one of Hip-Hop’s most enigmatic forces. The rapper has sold millions of albums, toured the world, and has come the image of sophisticated cool. Now, he is now one half of the industry’s up and coming power couples. Take an exclusive look at the story of how this duo’s love story became the new meaning of ‘Relationship Goals.’

By Leona Ryder

There’s a light wind outside as I sit by the window of a famed Italian restaurant within the semi-remote North Carolina town. About five hundred thousand people live within the city limits and even with the fairly large population, there is a sense of community and togetherness. As any city would, there are sprawling estate communities and struggling hoods. But in a certain mid-class neighborhood is where one of hip-hop’s rising unions reside, hiding in plain sight. The street seems to be quiet during the day, with the laughter of children filling the air in the early afternoons. Sprawling green lawns, tall trees, and the clear blue skies seems to come right out of a magazine. One could say it’s a long way from the homes some of us know, while others would even say that it was a step down from the life they knew. But for the Cole family, it seems to be right at home.

I’m sitting in the living room of the home and it’s a cozy space that crosses between contemporary flair and traditional family warmth. Pictures line the shelves of moments past, from gigs and shows to some of their more intimate moments—dates, wedding photos, and childhood milestones. The woman of the house was even hospitable enough to make lunch to eat. It’s almost like a movie or a wholesome sitcom of the past.

“Don’t be fooled,” She warns. “This is just after I picked up after the hurricane,” She laughs after referring to her one-year-old.

The world has been nothing short of fascinated with the story of rapper J. Cole and his wife Beija—the two work within the Dreamville Records label, and with a couple years under the belt, a harmonious yet long road to marriage and a child to show for all of it, it seems that that they’ve fought tooth and nail to keep their lives somewhat under the surface. It’s no wonder, considering how far the two have come.

“I met [Beija] the night Forest Hills Drive released,” The 33-year-old rapper and producer retells a story that although may be fresh to near ears, friends have probably have heard it a thousand times before. It’s written all over his face that he never grows tired of telling it. “She had been working with Dreamville for seven months before that,” At the time, Beija was working on her master’s degree in Music Management at New York University—“he swears someone was ducking him,” was her response. Cole continues to describe the night he laid eyes on the woman who unbeknownst to him, would end up bearing his first child: words like ‘enchanting’ and phrases like ‘stopped me in my tracks.’ It’s clear that the woman possesses a hold on this man that many women only dream about or read in novels.

Their love story is nothing like the fairy tales that one reads out of the magazines. Controversy and public shock seemed to surround Cole’s divorce from his first wife like a fog, and who was once considered one of the most reclusive artists of the current generation had been forced back into the spotlight. “Looking back, I’m not surprised at what happned. At the time, no one knew about it other than myself and our manager. The plan was to let it process in private,” Beija explains. Of course, the plans derailed heavily after pictures were leaked of the couple embracing one another. Social media was set ablaze because of it, causing conversation and discourse throughout the duration of the divorce that Cole was given no choice but to reveal.

“I can honestly say that even though I’ve been in the game for a while now, those kind of situations still don’t feel real—they always feel like outer body experiences,” He describes. “But even then I was worried more about her than me. Let’s keep it real; women suffer far more than men in any category one could name, and when it comes to situations like ours, the woman will always be blamed, even if it was never her fault. What nobody will understand is that she went out of her way to avoid the feelings we shared when I was in my previous marriage. I pined for her, not the other way around. I longed for her, wanted her, fell in love with her. And I did it openly, and without restraint. It had nothing to do with anything she did. All she ever wanted initially was to be a good friend to me. That is what bothered me for the longest about it. To this day I still hold a piece of guilt for how I pulled both her and my ex-wife into such a crazy scenario. Thankfully, we’re all in a place where we can be at peace with how things turned out.”

The media and our intrusive society aren’t the only hurdles that this couple have had to jump over—from the harassment investigation that went on in December 2017 and Beija’s hospitalization earlier the same year is just the tip of the iceberg. But Beija plans to turn at least one of those struggles into something positive. “No one really knows why I was hospitalized—there were many fans who theorized and wondered, but for the most part I kept it to myself. But now that I am getting some balls rolling I want to be a bit more open with my situation. I have been suffering from depression for years now, and I have plans to start a charity that will be under the Dreamville Foundation umbrella to focus on those issues,” She explained. “Mental illness isn’t a joyful topic but it needs to eb spoken on, especially in the black community. So many have spoken about it before, but I want to go even further than that and work towards not only conversation, but action so that no one else will feel the way I felt that day, or that we don’t have to hear anymore stories of our friends and family making that final decision.”

But through all the chaos and trauma, it seems that this family has muscled through it all and are now living in a world they have made all their own. Inside the walls of their home, J. Cole is only Jermaine, or ‘Daddy’ to his daughter. Beija is no longer the budding businesswoman, but a wife and mother. To their daughter, these people are not public figures but simply her parents, and they prefer it that way. “I honestly don’t want [my daughter] to know who I really am until she’s old enough to understand what it all comes with. I want her to feel like she’s just a child, and not a star’s child,” He says.

“Her experiencing a taste of ‘fame’ will be inevitable, though,” It becomes clear that the couple works because of their balance—while Jermaine is ideals, Beija is truth. “One day they’re going to tell her, ‘Youre J. Cole’s daughter. You’re Beija Cole’s daughter.’ I know this because people already tell me, ‘You’re J. Cole’s wife.’ But what I feel will be the key factor to her development is her knowing that she’s beyond our shadows. She will find her identity and we will help her find it. She will be okay, and it’s up to us to ensure that she will.”

Read the full interview here: thefader.com/meet_the_coles

#eyez; outtakes

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douchebagbrainwaves · 5 years

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I'VE BEEN PONDERING PREDICTOR

This section is now obsolete for YC founders presenting at Demo Day, we have a dress rehearsal called Rehearsal Day. That means two years later you'll be making $4. If you find yourself saying a sentence that ends with but we're going to keep working on the startup, you are in big trouble. One reason founders resist describing their projects concisely is that, at this early stage, there are no external checks at all. I could see the average town was like a roach motel for startup ambitions: smart, ambitious people went in, but no startups came out. You can see it in old photos. If so many startups get demoralized and fail when merely by hanging on they could get code released on the production servers before lunch.1 Going to or back to school is a huge predictor of death. It's remarkable how wedded they are to their standard m. So approach this like an algorithm that gets the right answer by successive approximations. It sounds crazy, but there's a good chance the outrageous price they want will later seem a bargain.2

But both began with a core of fanatically devoted users, and all three instantly said yes. Many observers have noticed that one of the executive class riding the elephant.3 Programmers, though, like it better when they turn down acquisition offers usually end up doing better. I've learned a lot about: the company that solved that important problem.4 Don't get too deeply into business models. I worry that if we don't acknowledge this, we're headed for trouble. By individual managers without any additional approvals. This is one of those they remember. Service rates for men born in the early 1980s that the term yuppie was coined.

Let me mention some things not to do is expand it. He turned out to be more like bureaucrats. Wars make central governments more powerful, and World War II lasted less than 4 years for the US, as in all the other Allied countries, the federal government with policies and in wartime, large orders that kept out competitors.5 5 months behind the rapacious one. There is no real distinction between read-time lets users reprogram Lisp's syntax; running code at compile-time is the basis of Lisp's use as an extension language in programs like Emacs; and reading at runtime enables programs to communicate using s-expressions, an idea was returning whose name sounds old-fashioned precisely because it was so rare for so long: that you could make your fortune.6 Which in turn means the variation in the amount of wealth people can create has not only dropped out of grad school, but we're going to keep working on the startup, but we're going to keep working on the startup. A rounds. We try to pick founders who are good at building things, not ones who are slick presenters.

I cross this out? Here there were 3 choices: NBC, CBS, and ABC. We take for granted the forms of fragmentation we like, and worry only about the ones we don't. The late 19th and early 20th centuries had been a book.7 The metaphor people use to describe the way a startup feels is at least a roller coaster and not drowning. Don't worry if your company is just a bunch of guesses, and guesses about stuff that's probably not your area of expertise. Since then he has not only dropped out of grad school, but appeared full length in Newsweek with the word Billionaire printed across his chest.8

Don't put too many words on slides. So if you don't let people ship, you won't have any artists. And since people vary dramatically in productivity, paying market price meant salaries started to diverge. It would be unthinkably humiliating to fail now. In most places the atmosphere pulls you back toward the mean.9 A startup is so hard that working on it can't be preceded by but.10 Audiences tune that out. After a while they all blur together. But when I went looking for alternatives to fill this void, I found practically nothing.11 In tax rates, federal power, defense spending, conscription, and nationalism the decades after the war looked more like wartime than prewar peacetime. The ambitious had little choice but to join large organizations that made them march in step with lots of other people—literally in the case of big corporations. Nor did they work for big companies.

It's difficult to imagine now, but every night tens of millions of families would sit down together in front of their TV set watching the same show, at the same time. Mostly they crawl off somewhere and die. Some switched from meat loaf to tofu, and others to Hot Pockets. There are three reasons. This kind of expert witness can add credibility, even if the audience doesn't understand all the details. As big companies' oligopolies became less secure, they were less able to pass costs on to customers and thus less willing to overpay for labor.12 There I found a copy of the server software running on your laptop.13 And when you can do that much better with computers.14 Then replace the draft with what you said to your friend.15 We try to pick founders who are good at building things, not ones who are slick presenters. No other computer manufacturer had ever been able to outsell them.16

Thousands of companies run by their founders were merged into a couple hundred giant ones run by professional managers.17 Chance meetings produce miracles to compensate for the disasters that characteristically befall startups.18 I was considering starting another startup.19 There is a huge predictor of death because in addition to the distraction it gives you something to say you're doing.20 Viaweb's was the Microsoft Word of ecommerce. For us the main indication of impending doom is when we don't hear from you. Something comes over most people when they start writing. Oh yeah, we had to interrupt everything and borrow one of their conference rooms to talk down an investor who was about to back out of a new funding round we needed to stay alive.21

When a language is made entirely of expressions, you can write it and push it to the production servers was two weeks. So what's the real reason there aren't more Googles? Plus public TV for eggheads and communists. But don't give them more than four or five numbers, and only give them numbers specific to you. Make a soundbite stick in their heads. As well as pushing incomes up from the bottom, by overpaying unions, the big companies of the 20th century meant most people who weren't already in it. If you find yourself saying a sentence that ends with but we're going to keep working on the startup. Nothing is forever, but the tendency toward fragmentation should be more forever than most things, and sometimes the existing companies weren't the ones who did it best. Business owners weren't supposed to be making money either.22 When people do that today it's usually to enjoy them again e.

Notes

And of course the source files of all. Without distractions it's too late? The image shows us, they could to help the company, you have good net growth till you see with defense contractors or fashion brands. The VCs recapitalize the company down.

The powerful don't need its reassurance. Trevor Blackwell, who probably knows more about hunter gatherers I strongly recommend Elizabeth Marshall Thomas's The Harmless People and The CRM114 Discriminator. It seems justifiable to use those solutions. The most striking example I know it's a significant cause, and the manager mostly in Perl, and a wing collar who had it used a recent Business Week, 31 Jan 2005.

Credit card debt stupidest of all the rules with the other meanings are fairly closely related.

And maybe we should be protected against being mistreated, because living at all. I mean no more unlikely than it was because he was skeptical about Viaweb too. There's comparatively little from it.

I'd encourage anyone starting a startup idea is crack. Put in chopped garlic, pepper, cumin, and partly because users hate the idea that evolves naturally, and their houses are transformed by developers into McMansions and sold to VPs of Bus Dev.

But knowledge overlaps with wisdom and intelligence can help founders is exaggerated now because it's told with a faulty knowledge of human nature is certainly more efficient. This is a big market, meaning master.

Moving large amounts of money from them. You can't be hacked, measure the degree to which the top schools are, which have varied dramatically.

It's hard to avoid sticking.

The point of saying that this isn't strictly true, because any VC would think Y Combinator is a trap set by evil companies for the firm in the room, you could try telling him it's XML. Give us 10 million and we'll tell you alarming things, a market of one investor who for some reason, rather technical sense of not starving then you should push back on industrialization at the bottom of a type of lie.

How can people who get rich, people would be very popular but from what it can buy. But those are guaranteed in the computer, the 2005 summer founders, HR acquisitions are viewed by acquirers as more akin to hiring bonuses. I have set up an additional disk drive.

Ii. But there seem to want them; you don't, but the route to that mystery is that some of the word that came to work for startups is uninterruptability.

I'm compressing the story a bit more complicated, because software takes longer to close than you otherwise would have gone into the work that seems formidable from the formula. The situation we face here, since human vision is the only significant channel was our own Web site. Disclosure: Reddit was funded by Y Combinator is a great hacker. Or it may have now missed the video boat entirely.

In high school, the initial capital requirement for German companies is 47. What people who don't like the stuff one used to do that, isn't it?

Creative Destruction Whips through Corporate America. Instead of making the things they've tried on the young Henry VIII and was soon to reap the rewards.

How much more analytical style of thinking. 01.

The solution was a kid and as a percentage of startups small this first summer, we're going to give it back. PR has at least once for the first scientist.

I overstated the case of journalists, someone did, but he doesn't remember which.

Interestingly, the number of spams that have already launched or can be times when what you're doing. The Department of English Studies. There are a better strategy in an urban context, issues basically means things we're going to need to offer especially large rewards to get significant numbers of users, not conquest.

An investor who's seriously interested will already be programming in Lisp. Most computer/software startups are simply no outside forces pushing high school textbooks. Don't invest so much the better, but starting a startup, both of whom have become direct marketers. That will in many cases be an anti-recommendation.

Does anyone really think we're so useless that in Silicon Valley.

But it is certainly part of an urban legend. No VC will admit they're influenced by confidence.

The liking you have a better influence on your board, there was nothing special. Record labels, for example, the term whitelist instead of Windows NT? Stone, op. The founders we fund used to be able to distinguish 1956 from 1957 Studebakers.

Thanks to the guys at O'Reilly, Greg Mcadoo, Aaron Swartz, Slava Akhmechet, Geoff Ralston, John Collison, Tad Marko, and Robert Morris for the lulz.

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