#kiera writes fics

[octolingkiera]

i love the twins so much 😭😭😭😭 i have so many feelings about them. so many thoughts. they live in my brain rent free

this is a part of @sariphantom's Rise August prompts

check out the fic on ao3 to get the full experience!!

Prompt: Day 2: Disaster Twins

Summary:

No one really remembers who said it first. Maybe it was Splinter in an effort to put to rest the debate of who was older. Maybe it was Leo and his need for connection with his family. Maybe it was Donnie in his unwavering devotion in unorthodox ways.

It didn’t really matter in the end. Leo and Donnie, Donnie and Leo, two for one special, peas in a pod, buy one get one, twins for life, for love, by choice.

Words: 2,521

🐢❤️💜💙🧡🐢

No one really remembers who said it first. Maybe it was Splinter in an effort to put to rest the debate of who was older. Maybe it was Leo and his need for connection with his family. Maybe it was Donnie in his unwavering devotion in unorthodox ways.

It doesn’t really matter in the end. Leo and Donnie, Donnie and Leo, two for one special, peas in a pod, buy one get one, twins for life, for love, by choice.

April didn’t understand it when she was very young. When she wasn’t quite a preteen, when she was just desperate for friends, when she found all and more in silly little group of green boys who stumbled into her life with wide eyes and naïve hope.

She didn’t understand it, but she wanted to.

She wanted to know what it was like to always have someone by your side, a partner in crime, a guaranteed player two, your equal and opposite in every way.

She remembers she asked Raph about it, desperate to understand her new friends. She didn’t know them all that well yet and she was so scared they would stop being friends with her—a ridiculous and unfounded fear, looking back—so she wanted to know how to avoid stepping on any potential conversational landmines regarding Leo and Donnie.

“How can they be twins?” April asked. “I thought twins were supposed to look the same?” She knows now that her question is silly and not all twins are identical, but she was eight and had never met any twins before, let alone heard of the concept of being fraternal twins.

“They just are,” Raph told her with absolute certainty as Donnie and Leo tussle around the floor of the projector room, Mikey indiscriminately cheering them on from the side. Donnie was currently winning, pressing Leo plastron side down on the floor. Leo was screeching and flailing but couldn’t get enough leverage to free himself.

As Raph and April watched on, Leo managed to flip positions with Donnie, then flopped down on Donnie’s soft shell, chest to back. He folded his arms on the back of Donnie’s shoulders and laid his head down like he intended to fall asleep. Donnie wriggled for a few moments, then pillowed his own head in his arms, huffing. In an instant, the fight left both of them, exchanged instead for large yawns and sleepy (and victorious, in Leo’s case) smiles.

April frowned and thought very hard. They just are, huh? She supposed it made sense. There was a lot of things that just were. You didn’t always have to understand them for them to be true.

Maybe this could be one of them.

Donnie would never admit it, not in a million years, but there was nothing he loved more than being Leo’s twin. It just made sense to him in a way that only machines and technology and science did. Leo and Donnie were twins that that was that, no more questions, thank you, goodnight.

For once, science fell by the wayside to make room for the emotional and illogical. Logically, Donnie knew that the two of them could physically not be twins. For one, turtles hatch from eggs and typically in clutches of several at once, so it was impossible for them to be twins in the sense that humans are. For another, the two are separate species entirely, from different scientific families, even, and were only related to each other in the way that they are both turtles—and have the same mutant rat father.

Dad never shied away from telling him that they were all his sons in every way that mattered. Growing up, he never told them that he was a human that was mutated into a rat, just that he was their father and he saved them from where they had been mutated from. When Donnie would push for answers, Splinter would just smile and shake his head, telling him, “You may not have come from me, but you are mine anyway.”

Donnie, of course, always took this as a challenge. He was never able to do serious, extensive testing as a child, and never cared to once he was old enough to craft the equipment needed for such experiments himself, but he could do research and think and infer. He figured there had to be some shared commonality between himself and his brothers—despite their differences, they all share quite a few similarities that could only come from one distinct source such as facial structures and physique. None of them was “more turtle” than the rest, regardless of childhood behaviors or interests.

These similarities always seemed especially highlighted with Leo and Donnie. Being the two closest in physical and mental developmental milestones, the two of them often, and nearly without fail, matched each other through all of life’s twists and turns. Whether it was losing teeth, first words and steps, even their height, the two of them aged in tandem, experienced life hand in hand, side by side, step for step.

Twins, in every way that truly mattered. Ride or die, together forever, only ‘til death do us part.

It’s why, after the invasion, Donnie is so indescribably furious, seething with a frothing anger that shares headspace only with a hysterical sense of premature grief that has no outlet.

Leo’s still here, but for five, ten minutes, he wasn’t, and Donnie thought he would have to learn how to live with that.

Leo loves being Donnie’s twin, and for better or for worse, he doesn’t care who knows. (As long as no one tells Donnie—it’s an understood thing between them, no words needed. Please. Neither one of them would be able to handle a talk about that.)

It’s great, awesome, amazing, having someone that’s right by your side your whole life. Don’t get him wrong, he loves Raph and Mikey too and he would do anything for them without question, but it’s different with Donnie. There’s just something there, some extra special connection that he can’t put into words, but he, they, know it’s there, sitting between them like it always has and always will.

When they were kids, they almost never separated. It was rare to find one without the other, or if they were, then it was brief, within line of sight or range of hearing; apart, but not really. They were each other’s confidants, their lockboxes of secrets, the ones they whispered everything and nothing to. Back when they were tiny, still small enough to fit in two hands, before Leo started talking and never stopped, before Donnie bloomed into his intelligence like the prodigy he is, they would cry if they were out of physical contact for longer than ten minutes.

Splinter likes to tell them stories of their early childhood sometimes. He talks about how Raph was already trying to wrangle his little brothers together, how Mikey was just so cuddly and affectionate, how Leo and Donnie were Leo-and-Donnie, a pair, a set, do not separate.

Point is, they were closer as children, much closer, indescribably closer.

Then they grew up, they learned about the world, they developed different hobbies, they came into their personalities, they built up walls, and Leo-and-Donnie became Leo and Donnie.

It makes him sad sometimes, to think about how close they used to be, and how things have had to change. He wants to cling to that childhood where the worst thing was learning there would never be a new Lou Jitsu movie, or reaching the end of his favorite Jupiter Jim adventure. He wishes he could take back everything he said that implied he wanted this new distance between them, this yawning abyss he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to cross again.

He wants his brother back the way they used to be, but he knows it’s just a pipe dream by now.

“I’m mad at you,” Donnie says after the invasion, once Leo can stay awake longer than ten minutes at a time. “I can’t believe you. How could you?”

Leo just looks at him for a long minute, eyes dark and searching. “I did what I had to do.”

“What you thought you had to do,” Donnie corrects, hands clenching into fists. He shoves them into his thighs, knuckle first. “You could have done something else. We could have done something else.”

“There was no time,” Leo says, and he sounds so tired. “It was do or die.”

Donnie flinches. “Don’t say that.” He came so close to making that a reality.

“Sorry,” Leo says, then continues, “but thats why I had to. I couldn’t let you die.”

Donnie’s glare is fierce and wild. “So we should have let you? Is that what you’re trying to say to me? Really?”

“Of course not,” Leo says, almost before Donnie is finished speaking, and it’s so genuine, so sincere, it gives Donnie pause. “I love you guys, so much, more than you’ll ever know. I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to leave you.”

“But you still did,” Donnie says, voice losing its strength. “We almost lost you. For good. No take backs.” He takes a deep breath, holds it for several counts, then exhales. “I almost lost you.”

Leo stares down at the scratchy medbay blanket on his lap and grips in tight in his hand. “It wasn’t a decision I wanted to make.” His voice breaks on his next words. “I promise.”

Donnie stares at him, tears he’s been trying to ignore beading in the corners of his eyes. Leo isn’t one to make promises lightly, never has been, likely never will be. For someone who lies and pretends and twists the truth as much as Leo does, he’s kept every promise he’s ever made.

Except for one.

“You left me,” Donnie says, barely more than a whisper. “You promised we’d be together forever.”

“‘Til death do us part,” Leo recites part of their childhood pact, lifting his head to stare towards the wall, eyes wet and distant.

Donnie sucks in a too-fast breath. He tries to regulate his breathing. They need to have this talk and he can’t ruin it by crying. He and Leo haven’t had a conversation this honest since they were both thirteen and wide-eyed, sneaking out to spend time on the surface by themselves, sitting on empty rooftops to commiserate about their lives and wallow in their new teen angst together. He can’t ruin this.

“We promised we’d grow old together.” Donnie barks a laugh, startling them both with the suddenness of it. “Sixteen isn’t old.”

“It was when we were six,” Leo jokes, like he can’t help himself. He sniffles and shakes his head immediately afterwards.

Donnie can’t even find it in himself to scold his brother. The anger has died, withered away, and all that’s left is the fear and the grief and the soul shattering feeling that nothing will be the same again. He’s mourning for a reality that no longer exists, for the brother that isn’t dead, for the broken promise that is technically no longer broken. All these big feelings have nowhere to go, nothing to aim at, so they’re just bunched up in his head, in his chest, and they’re pressing against his rib cage and skull with nowhere to go.

“We can’t do this again,” Donnie finally says a few minutes later. “This—we can’t let this happen again.”

“Technically we didn’t let anything happen,” Leo says, voice quiet, like he’s hoping he won’t be heard.

Donnie hears him anyway. Donnie always hears him. “But it did.” He grits his teeth, thinking. He takes a deep breath that shakes on the way out. “New promise,” he says, because it’s all he can do.

Leo finally turns and looks at him again, wide-eyed and expectant.

“Promise me that if you can’t find a way out,” he reaches over to grab Leo’s hand, squeezing tight, “then you tell me, so we can find a way out together.”

“What if there’s not a way out?” Leo asks, fingers tightening over Donnie’s. “What if there’s nothing else to do? What if there’s only one way to fix everything?”

Donnie hears the unspoken questions. What if the only way to save the day, to stop the bad guy, to save the world, is to risk life and limb and potentially never return?

Self-sacrifice is, unfortunately, a family tradition.

“Then we go together.” Simple as that.

Leo’s breath hitches, and he tries to pull away, but Donnie holds on with all his strength. “I can’t,” Leo croaks, tears threatening to spill over. “Tello, I could never.”

“You can,” Donnie asserts. He shakes the hand in his grip. “I’m not giving you a choice here, Nardo.”

Leo shakes his head, cheeks wet. “I don’t want that for you.”

“And I don’t want this for you.” Donnie gestures to the medbay and the assorted machines attached to Leo with his free hand. The heart monitor, still attached, but nearly muted, has almost outgrown its usefulness, as Leo is out of the danger zone, but the steady beep-beep-beep of the machine has become a soothing backdrop for this trying time. Donnie doesn’t have the heart to turn it off quite yet, pun not intended.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” Donnie adds, once it’s clear Leo isn’t going to reply, too preoccupied with squeezing his eyes closed to staunch the flow of tears. “Twins for life, remember?”

“‘Til we’re old and wrinkly,” Leo whispers, breathing through the tears, silently weeping.

Donnie blinks hard and the tears in his own eyes finally spill over. “Exactly.”

“I’m sorry,” Leo cries, jolting in a hiccup that clearly hurts his still healing everything. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not okay, not really, but it will be,” Donnie says. Then, because Leo needs to hear this more than anything else, he adds, “I forgive you.” Then, for the real kicker, “It’s not your fault.”

Leo outright sobs, and Donnie surges forward to wrap his brother up in his arms, gathering him close as he’s overcome with emotion. Donnie holds on as tight as he dares, then even tighter when Leo clings back like Donnie will disappear if he starts to let go. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Leo buries his face in Donnie’s shoulder. “I love you. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too. It’s okay. We’re all okay. It’s not your fault.”

When Raph comes by later to deliver their dinner, he finds Leo and Donnie curled up side by side on the bed, arms and legs tangled together with tubes and wires, foreheads and shoulders touching, fingers threaded, fast asleep. In that moment, superimposed over the image, he sees two much smaller turtles, back when they were Leo-and-Donnie, before they grew up and away and apart. They’ve crashed back together now, and it settles something in Raph that he hadn’t realized was off.

He smiles as he leaves the room. He’ll let them sleep just a little longer.

But first, he needs to take some pictures.

#rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #rottmnt fanfiction #rise august art challenge #rise august #kiera writes fics #disaster twins #i love them so much #sobs

[cowardlycowboys]

just depressed enough to maybe write self insert fics again

#omg kiera no one cares #another like on my jea/n gr/ey fic like yeah that was a good one she has like none i had to do something about that #and like I'm bored so why not even tho i no longer partake in those things because i can just act it out in my head because my lore #for my oc is just too expansive and deep regular fics just don't get it #this is me just saying I'm bored and should write nothingness for fun again

[countrymusiclover]

Heading to watch Andor now 😁 Let me know if I should write a fic for Cassian or just include Kiera from my Kenobi fic into his storyline 😀 😊

#cassian andor #star wars andor #andor spoilers #kiera kenobi #kenobi's future #should i write a fic? #star wars #star wars rogue one #wattpad fanfiction #comments really appreciated #obi wan kenobi #cassian andor x reader

[dorimares]

FINALLY FINISHED FIRST DRAFT OF THE SHADOWHEART FIC

#this is the closest ive come in years to finishing a creative writing piece thats not for uni/school #speaking it into existence now i Will finish editing + post it before the end of november #so its finish baby's first fic instead of normal nanowrimo goals for next month lmao #kiera talks

[padmestrilogy]

padme body horror is supreme bc when you think about it, her very existence requires constant agony. in real life that red invasion gown took several weeks to build. and the costumes were so uncomfortable that kiera knightly, who was sabe for like 2 seconds, cried every night while filming. the main way natalie portman describes her prequels costumes is “painful” . and sure “beautiful” usually follows but dude. imagine being 14 and in constant pain bc your job requires you be pretty as possible while defending your planet from fucking invasion. i can’t imagine how estranged i’d feel from my own body and sense of self in that moment. you can take that (already extreme) rigor over the body to all kinds of violent ends. possession. some sort of creature. self-mutilation. fic writes itself tbh!

#and this is only going into phantom #star wars #padme amidala

[repulsiveliquidation]

earmuffs

Aitana Bonmatí x Reader [BLURB! angst.]

hey y'all! first work of the year! thank you all for being patient with me, i haven't been active one bit but hope you enjoy this one!

also send in more long aitana fic ideas! i have some blurb ones and one fic i have in my WIPs but i'd love to write more!

//

It’s New Year’s Eve in Barcelona and the whole team is together at Ona and Lucy’s house for the countdown. You’ve begrudgingly attended, your secret new girlfriend was insistent that you come before dragging you out of your house the day of. You’ve always hated fireworks, an accident when you were a kid in England that hurt your little brother still traumatized you despite it being years ago. The loud noises and the screaming didn’t help; you much preferred to be at home with all the windows locked tight and not a single curtain opened to hide under the blankets until the colorful lights were over.

"come on everyone, the countdown is in 10 minutes!”

Aitana stands, reaching out for your hand to help you up. She smiles softly before her face changes into one of confusion.

“Aren’t you coming?” she asks, reaching down to take your hand. You cringe and smile awkwardly, shaking your head.

“No, you go ahead Tana. I want to sit in here.”

“Bebita, it’s the uh fireworks! It’s pretty no? You can’t miss it, bebé.”

She tries to pull you up and you follow her, she walks ahead with a big smile as she joins the rest of your teammates on the deck.

You’re already trembling, reaching for the wicker chair on the deck to sit on. Kiera is beside you, she also happens to be the only one who knows about you and Aitana. She sees that scared look on your face, immediately rubbing your back as you sit.

“You okay, kid?”

“Uh, yeah. Just tired, that’s all.”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, kiddo.”

Suddenly, Lucy is yelling while looking at her watch.

“3, 2, 1, HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!”

The team erupts in cheers and they start to light all their fireworks. Lucy managed to find big and loud ones this year, along with many long ones that you could hold and have them shoot out. You yelp in surprise when the first one goes off, a big box of 30 rounds blowing up in the middle of the garden. Aitana, who was watching you the entire time, hoping for a New Year’s kiss, saw the fear in your eyes before anyone else did. Her hands immediately pressed against your ears and they pulled you into her stomach as she stood between your legs and kissed your head. She leaned down and whispered in Catalan, you didn’t understand a thing but her soothing voice calmed you immediately. Tears streamed down your face but you held onto her, she didn’t move an inch until the fireworks stopped and the girls had retreated inside.

“Amor?” she said as she knelt, hands moving away from your ears to hold your wet face.

“Sorry, it’s stupid,” you begin, pushing her hands away and wiping the tearstains off your face. She huffs, grabbing your face again. She looks deep into your eyes with tears. You begin to panic, cooing at her to not cry. She sits beside you and takes your hands in hers.

“It’s not stupid, amor. You were panicking.”

“I’m a grown fucking adult, I shouldn’t feel this way,” you say with gritted teeth, wiping away frustrated tears as you stand and try to walk away from her. She’s small but defiant, grabbing your arm to make you face her. she’s got an angry look on her face that immediately disappears when she meets your eyes.

“Talk to me, amor. What’s going on, sí? I’ve never seen you like this before,” she says, pulling your body close to her. you’re just a foot taller, she tucks her face into your neck and leaves soft kisses.

The team watches from the inside with deep concern for their teammates, when suddenly everyone's phones are blowing up. Lucy opens her phone from where she’s sitting on the counter with Ona between her legs and gasps in shock. Patri had posted a New Year Instagram story and there was a brief two-second pan towards you and Aitana where she pecked your lips to calm you as her palms pressed against your ears.

“Patri, you idiot!” Alexia yells, chewing her out. There was no point in deleting it, the whole world knew that you were together.

Back outside, you and Aitana had moved to the stairs leading up to the porch to sit and talk. She held your hand in her lap, softly rubbing the back and occasionally kissing it. you leaned into her, head resting on her shoulder as you told her about your fear of fireworks.

“My cousins were being rough and not careful. Their parents told them they couldn’t play with it on New Year till my father got home but they didn’t listen. They lit one and pointed it right at me when my little brother jumped in front of one and got second-degree burns because his sweater caught on fire.”

Aitana listens carefully, eyes widened in shock when she learns the reason behind your fear. She leans in and kisses you softly, taking your hand in hers tighter.

“I wish you told me, cariño. I would have stayed home with you.”

“But you love the fireworks, I thought I could handle it; not. I’m sorry you couldn’t watch them.”

“No bebita, you were more important. Thank you for trusting me.”

"Te amo Tana, gracias por estar ahí para mí".

"Yo también te amo, mi niña.”

You two walk back inside where Alexia still hasn’t finished chewing Patri out she’s almost red in the face.

“What’s going on?” Aitana asks, gently guiding you into the kitchen where everyone is.

“Have you checked your phones, both of you?” Ona asks Alexia, taking a break and being handed a glass of water by Lucy.

“No,” you both say, pulling out your phones to see what’s all the fuss about.

“Oh fuck,” you whisper, hand going over your mouth in shock. The two-second clip of you and Aitana kissing while you were having a meltdown is going viral, already trending on X.

“Patri!” Aitana starts, already marching towards the much taller Spaniard. You stop her, grabbing her forearm. She turns around with rage in her eyes, fiercely wanting to protect your privacy more than hers. She softens when she sees the affection in your eyes, letting herself be pulled back to you.

“I don’t want to hide anymore, mi amor.”

“But bebita,” she begins, you cup her cheek and lean in to kiss her before she can finish her sentence. The whole room erupts with cheers and laughter, María capturing another picture of you two. She airdrops it to you as soon as you pull away from Aitana, Alexia already giving Patri a big hug and apologizing for yelling at her.

Back home that night, you post the picture María took and make it official. The world goes crazy, but you and Aitana knew that only the two of you mattered.

#woso x reader #woso soccer #woso imagine #woso fanfics #fc barca femeni #aitana bonmatí #aitana bonmati x reader #aitana bonmati blurb #aitana bonmati imagine

[amiableness]

Wishful Thinking

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: jj gets tipsy and rambles about his feelings for y/n, leading their friends to decide to play matchmakers.

wc: 6.0k

warnings: pet names (baby), mild language, and allusions to smut at the end

a/n 💌: hi! i have posted wishful thinking before but i decided just to combine it all into one fic and finish it. this is my experiment to see if i wanna come back to writing or not!

“Y’wanna know something?” JJ Maybank’s voice was giggly as he leaned in to whisper to his best friend next to him. It was quiet between the group of friends besides the crackling of the fire in the center of the group and John B’s speaker playing music in the background. Pope raised his eyebrows as he eyed JJ, who had been attempting to whisper, but instead caught the attention of all his friends.

“What?” He asked finishing off the rest of his drink and glancing over at John B who was chuckling at how out of it JJ was.

“Really miss her, man. Miss her pretty laugh.” Pope’s surprised gaze shot back over to JJ. He wasn’t seeing anyone, so he wasn’t sure exactly who he could be talking about. But when he watched as JJ’s glaze slide over to where Y/n usually sat, he understood.

“She’s only been gone an hour, JJ.” Kiera cut in, understanding right away who the blonde had been talking about. Kiera had always known about JJ’s feelings for her, even if he had refused to admit them until now. For years, JJ had been pining over Y/n. She wasn’t sure how the others had’t picked up on it. From the countless times that JJ had tied up her hair while she covered her shoulders with sunscreen, made sure she always her favorite mango soda stocked in the fridge, and cleaned up her cuts and scrapes as he taught her how to skateboard. It was pretty obvious that JJ was head over heels for Y/n.

“Feels like torture, Kie. Getting to see her everyday and not being able to kiss her.” Sarah’s mouth dropped open in surprise as she whipped her head around to make she everyone had just heard what she did. JJ talking about his feelings was rare, so hearing him clue in the other’s to his feelings about her was surprising.

“Oh shit, he’s so out of it.” John B barked out a laughed while leaning forward, hoping to catch more of JJ’s words.

“JB, you get it man! Loving her s’much that your heart just hurts without her.” John B had an amused expression painted on his face as he glanced at his friends.

“Does Y/n know your heart hurts without her?” Sarah slapped John B’s shoulder because she knew he was teasing with his choice of words, even if JJ wasn’t in the state to pick up on it.

“Y’fucking kiddin’? She doesn’t deserve that.”

“JJ, don’t say that.” Kiera scolded as she watched her best friend helplessly shrug back at her. The tipsy giggles had been replaced by a serious look on his face as he stared into the fire. Y/n had been on his mind constantly. Ever since he had met her really, but now more than ever. Before he had thought it was just a hopeless crush, but he wasn’t so sure anymore.

“She deserves flowers, those lilies she always points out when we walk by the market on 7th. Someone to walk her back from the Club because you just know those rich old fucks are gonna try and flirt with her every chance they get. Someone who tells her that she’s the prettiest girl they have ever seen in their life, because it’s fucking true. Someone who can make her the happiest girl in the word, because she deserves that. Y’know?”

His words shocked his friends into silence, all wearing looks of surprise. To some degree, they all knew that JJ had some type of feelings for their other best friend. Just none of them had realized just how deep his feelings ran. No one had said anything, so JJ shrugged and tossed his beer back before heading inside. Leaving his friends to process what he had just said.

“We need to help JJ get the girl.” John B spoke up, getting a chorus of agreement back.

The door flung open, startling her friends as Y/n cheerfully let herself into the Chateau. Everyone was gathered in the kitchen talking amongst themselves. The boys were in charge of cooking the burgers, while Sarah and Kiera stood next to each other chopping veggies and fruits.

It was Sunday, meaning all six of them got together for lunch. It had become a tradition over the years for them to meet every Sunday and spend time together.  Y/n was in her favorite jeans shorts and the navy blue sweatshirt she had stolen from JJ months ago. He never complained. Her hair was tied up by a claw clip, and JJ swore that he swooned every time she wore it like that.

“Who owes me an explanation?” While her question sounded accusatory, she was bouncing on the heels on feet trying to hold back her grin.

“An explanation for what?” Pope questioned, glancing over his shoulder at a giggly Y/n.

“These.” She reached into her book bag to pull out a bouquet of lilies. Her eyes swept expectantly over all her friends, waiting for one of them to claim the flowers as their gift.

“Sorry sweetheart! None of us brought you flowers.” John B called out, glancing at everyone as there was a hum of agreement. The only one who didn’t say anything but JJ, who was simply staring at the bouquet in Y/n’s hands He felt sick starting at the flowers. Not just any flowers, but lilies. The same flowers he’s been trying to work up the courage to buy her for weeks. Ever since he watched her stare longingly at them in the market, he knew he wanted to get them for her. Who the hell got them for her?

“It could be a secret admirer!” Sarah called excitedly, dropping her knife and heading over to see the flowers in Y/n’s hands.

“A secret admirer? I highly doubt that.” Y/n hummed while staring down at the flowers. If it wasn’t her friends, who got them for her?

“Oh please, you’re hot and a total catch. I bet it’s a secret admirer.” Kiera called, nearly running into her best friend as they hugged each other in greeting. The girls erupted into giggles when Kiera nearly knocked her over, but Y/n managed to steady them. Y/n and Kiera had been friends well before they had met any of the others. Having met in kindergarten, they truly had never left each others’ sides.

“You think?” She asked, a hopeful smile brightening up her face. She couldn’t help but feel a swell of excitement in her chest at the idea of having a secret admirer. It was flattering, and Y/n had always been a hopeless romantic.

“Sounds like someone’s got a crush on our Y/n.” John B called out while pointing the spatula in her direction. Pope let out a huff and grabbed the spatula from John B who was too distracted by talking to remember the flip the burger patties.

“Maybe it’s not a secret admirer, maybe someone just gave them to you to be nice.” JJ shrugged, trying to fight the ever growing jealously in his chest as he watched her blush over the flowers.

“Yea, and what are the chances someone picked her favorite flowers?” Kiera questioned glancing over at JJ who sent her an irritated look

“It was just a thought.” He grumbled, sending one last glare at the bouquet gripped in Y/n’s hands as she carefully filled a vase for them oblivious to his stare.

Kiera and Pope sent each other small grins excited that their plan was being set into place.

It had been one whole week. One whole week of Y/n receiving a bouquet of flowers from the market everyday. While Y/n was practically glowing from excitement, JJ had never been in a mood this bad.

“What flower do we think it is today?” JJ grumbled kicking at the dirt in front of him. With his eyes glued to the ground, he missed the looks his friends exchanged. Just the night before, the four of them had been wondering if it was time to fess up. But John B had insisted they kept going.

“We know how much he loves her, we can’t say anything!” John B protested, leaning against the couch as he adamantly tried to convince his friends to keep their little secret to themselves.

“What does that have to do with anything? JJ has watched Y/n get flowers all week and said nothing to her. The goal was to get him to confess his feelings, and it isn’t working.” Kiera sighed while glancing over at the freshly bought flowers sitting on the table, waiting to be delivered to Y/n. She felt guilt swirl in her stomach, this was her best friend she way lying to, even if the end goal was for her to be happy. The past week Y/n had been gushing to her about who the mystery guy could be, and when she asked her opinion on the matter, Kiera nearly pulled out the receipts and showed Y/n just who her admirer was.

“He just needs a little bit more convincing,” John B shot back running a palm down his face.“Come on, Kie.”

“Are we even sure that Y/n feels the same way about him?” Pope spoke up, breaking the stare off between John B and Kiera. All eyes turned to Kiera, who knew all of Y/n’s secrets.

“No, I’m not spilling her secrets.” She crossed her arms over her chest, fingers tightening around the friendship bracelets they both wore.

“Don’t spill her secrets then. It’s simple, does JJ have any sort of shot with Y/n?” Pope questioned, glancing over at Kiera who was nibbling at her lip.

“Yes.” She admitted, prompting John B to high five Sarah.

“So we keep playing the secret admirer? Amp it up a little until JJ acts on his feelings?” Sarah asked, sending a hopeful smile over to Kiera.

“Fine, but as soon as JJ breaks it off were admitting to what we did.” She huffed while the rest cheered.

“Who knows, she’s gotten every flower imaginable at this point.” John B shrugged, knowing that Sarah and Kiera had been the ones who insisted on getting the prettiest bouquets every time they went. JJ’s frown deepened at John B’s response.

“It’s just stupid, y’know? If this guy likes her so much why doesn’t he just say something?”

“Great point, now take your own advice.” Sarah called out making JJ falter. The tips of his ears turned red and he let out a scoff. 

“That’s different.” JJ shook his head.

“Please, enlighten us.” Pope snorted while grabbing another drink. It was around noon and they were waiting for Y/n to show up after her shift so they could all go swimming. Lately she had been spending most of her time at work, but it seemed to work out for the pogues, since they were able to deliver the flowers to her house secretly this way.

“You already know-”

“Hi! I’m sorry I’m so late!” JJ spun around in his chair to see his favorite girl walking towards them with her bikini already on and her favorite bag slung over her shoulder like always. He could see the new bouquet of flowers peeking out of her bag, and he fought the urge to roll his eyes at them.

Instead of showing off the flowers like she usually had, Y/n tossed her bag onto the cooler besides her without a comment about them. Her friends shared a surprised look, expecting her to show them off and fawn over them.

“Scoot over.” She called to JJ as she climbed up into the hammock with him, easily slotting herself into his side. JJ felt himself relax at the feeling of her pressed against him, and he tossed his arm over her shoulder.

“Anyone ready to swim? I need a break.” Y/n smiled halfheartedly, puzzling her friends at her sudden change in mood.

Y/n was frustrated. A whole week of flowers and no one had fessed up to who was delivering her the beautiful arrangements everyday. As each passing day went by, she found herself becoming slightly bugged by the flowers. Not by the sweet gesture, but by the mystery of them. Why was there no cards left? Or any hints at who her admirer could be?

Each morning before work the flowers could be found tucked against the doorframe, waiting for Y/n to find them. Today marked exactly one week that the flowers had started being delivered, and unlike every other time, Y/n didn’t check for a card. In fact, she had left the flowers on the porch until she came home from work. On her way out she simply picked up the bouquet and put it in her bag, knowing she was already late to meeting her friends.

“Any ideas on who your secret admirer is?” Sarah teased while bumping her left shoulder against Y/n’s. The three girls were sat on the boat next to each other with Sarah in the middle. The boys had been in the water for the past twenty minutes, currently seeing who could hold their breath the longest. Pope had won the last two rounds and JJ was pissed, determined to beat him.

“No, and I’ve gone over my name list about twenty times. It’s starting to drive me crazy.” Y/n sighed while sipping at her pink straw that poked out of her mango soda that JJ had brought her. She missed the look shared between her two best friends, too busy gazing out at the water.

“List your ideas.” Kiera called out as she stood up to grab the cans the boys had left behind and toss them into a bag she brought with her for this very reason. She flopped down on the seat across from her two friends once she was done, eyeing Y/n somber expression.

“Well, Malakai Cost could be an option. Remember him? We ‘dated’ in freshman year.” She used her fingers to air quote as she said the word dated with a slight laugh.

“I hardly call that dating, babe.” Kiera laughed remembering the memory of the curly haired boy who Y/n lost her virginity to. He was sweet, but Kiera could tell that her best friend didn’t have that strong of feelings for him. That was obvious by the way ‘the relationship’ was cut short when the pair had realized they would rather have sex with other people.

“Okay, uh, option two is Porter from work. Option three is -”

“Pervy Porter? God, I hope not.” Sarah cries out, cringing at the thought of the 26 year old who worked at the club and was consistently hitting on high school aged girls.

“Option three: Cal. He’s been flirting with me the past couple weeks, and it’s an option I don’t honestly hate.” Y/n explained, while holding up her three fingers still as she mulled over her list.

“Cal from English? He’s cute.” Sarah agreed, nodding along. Although she did not like the idea nearly as much as Y/n and JJ being together.

“And option four.” Y/n let out a soft sigh and leaned back on her hands.

“Who is option four?” Kiera asked, leaning forward towards her best friend when she noticed she wasn’t openly supplying information.

“I don’t really think this is an option, but more like a hope.” Y/n said, bitting at her lower lip as she glanced over at the boys to make sure they were still busy.

“Well who is it?” Sarah asked, scooting closer to Y/n as she three friends then made a little circle on the floor of the boat.

“JJ.” Y/n shyly whispered with her eyes downcast as she twirled her straw in her soda. Kiera and Sarah sent each other wide eyed looking, trying to contain their excitement.

“You want it to be JJ?” Sarah asked, using both hands to cover her mouth as she practically bounced on her butt.

“I mean, I’ve always had a thing for JJ. How could I not? Plus, he’s the only one who knows how bad I had wanted lilies from the market and those are what I got! But, fuck, when I saw the look on his face when I brought them over, I knew it wasn’t him.”

“He was probably just mad somebody did it before he could.” Sarah supplied, as Y/n looked up at her blonde friend with a hopeful look in her eye.

“I mean maybe, but realistically JJ has shown no interest in me. So why would it be him?” Y/n shrugged trying to keep her hopes from soaring.

“Are you serious?” Kiera nearly shrieked. She glanced over her shoulder at the splashing boys before turning back to her best friend.

“Y/n, look at your drink. You have a mango soda that was chilled, unlike the rest of our drinks, and your favorite pink straw. And who made up your drink for you?” Y/n glanced down at her drink, her heart swelling at the simple things JJ constantly did for her the left her feeling warm and special.

JJ had always been the person who made her feel safe. Kiera would forever be her best friend, but if Y/n ever needed saving JJ was the person that she instantly went to. She couldn’t help it, there was something about him that made her feel cared for, and she loved that feeling more than anything.

“He insisted you stayed at the Chateau until you got over your cold, remember? You two literally slept in his bed together while he took care of you. None of us went near you except for him.” Sarah explained, sipping at her drink.

“But it’s JJ, he doesn’t care about germs.”

“Really? Because when I had strep throat he told me if I got near him he would beat my ass.” Kiera deadpanned making her two friends laugh at the memory.

“All I’m getting from this is that he’s a sweet friend. There’s no way it could be him delivering the flowers.” Y/n shook her head, getting nervous that her hopes about JJ being her secret admirer were rising again.

“Okay, just forget the flowers. What if JJ told you that he had feelings for you? What would you do?” Kiera asked hoping to get a read on her friends feelings.

“Also, how the hell did we not know you were into JJ?” Sarah added on, to which Kiera raised her drink at, making Y/n blush.

“It’s always been at the back of my mind, and then I realized I keep hoping it’s him that is behind it. And about the feelings thing? If he likes me back I would hope that he does something about it, and soon.”

“Woah, woah, woah! Our Y/n’s got the hot’s for someone?” John B cried out, scaring the three girls.

“God, John B! We’re talking about Y/n’s man, you guys can’t just listen in like that.” Kiera whipped around, bending over the edge of the boat to wack him on the head. She glanced at JJ who was behind John B, but his face was blank.

“Y/n’s man, huh?” He tried to tease, but Kiera could see that he could hardly keep the smile on his face.

“I don’t have a man.” Y/n laughed, redness sweeping onto her cheeks. She hid behind her drink, embarrassed that the boys overheard their conversation. She was just hoping that JJ didn’t realize that they were talking about him.

“Her secret admirer. She’s waiting for him to make an actual move.” Y/n shot a warning look at Sarah who had elaborated for the boys.

“So you know who he is?” JJ asked, swimming closer to the boat as Y/n leaned over the edge to look down at him. They were so close together that JJ could feel the ends of her hair brushing against his face as he looked up at her.

“No, but I have my hopes.” Y/n shrugged her left shoulder, nervously bitting at her lip. Could it be JJ? Did he get that she was telling him to make his move?

His eyes dropped to her lips and he immediately felt the urge to reach up and bring her mouth to his, but he couldn’t. So instead he took one last look at the rosy lips he always fantasized about before glancing back up at her. They were both carefully studying each other.

“Any you wanna share with the class?” Pope teased, bringing JJ and Y/n out of their little moment. Y/n glanced away from JJ to look at Pope who was swimming behind him.

“No.” Y/n blushed. “I’m sure we’ll all find out soon enough anyways.”

“I think it’s Cal from English.” Y/n rushed out as she nearly tossed herself on the couch next to her two best friends. She knew she had limited time before the boys came into the Chateau and would be able to hear their gossip.

“Seriously?” Sarah questioned, tossing aside her phone to be able to put her full attention on Y/n. She glanced over at Kiara who had furrowed eyebrows and looked unsure.

“Why do you think it’s Cal?” She asked uncertainty, feeling the guilt well up in her chest. She couldn’t remember the last time she had kept a secret from Y/n. The two of them told each other everything, and it was killing her to lie to her face and pretend she had no clue who the flowers were coming from. How was she supposed to tell her that it was them this whole time? Would she understand them trying to get her and JJ together? Or would she understandably be upset?

“He remembered that my favorite flowers are lilies, and they were my first flowers I got.”

“You told Cal your favorite flowers?” Kiara asked a little concerned. She didn’t want Y/n thinking that someone else besides JJ could have been doing this for you. She didn’t think Cal from English would have memorized your favorite flowers just like JJ had.

“I guess, we chat a lot in AP English. Mrs. Donovan lets us have time to write for ten minutes at the end of class and we pass notes instead.”

“That’s cute.” Sarah smiled softly, but she wasn’t totally sure what else to say. “Do you think it’s Cal then? For sure?”

“I don’t really know, but I might find out tonight.” Y/n supplied while heading into the kitchen to grab a glass of mango soda. She smiled softly when she realized her stash had been restocked from the last time she had grabbed one.

“Why tonight?” Sarah asked shifting on the couch to watch her best friend curiously. Y/n took a long sip before sending them a nervous smile, like she was scared of what they were going to say.

“I agreed to go out with him.” There was brief pause of silence between the three best friends.

“Wait. But..I thought you wanted it to be JJ?” Kiara asked, lowering her voice as she heard the voices of the boys outside doing God knows what.

“I mean I do. I really fucking do. But it doesn’t seem like it’s him and I can’t sit around and wait for him forever. Besides, if Cal is the one leaving these flowers for me I wanna give him a chance. It could lead into something really nice y’know.” She shrugged simply.

Kiara stayed quiet, trying to piece together a plan to swing this in JJ’s favor. Cal was not actually supposed to be an option in this. The goal was to get JJ and Y/n together.

“So you’re not waiting for JJ anymore?” Sarah questioned. Y/n opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out.

“Honestly, I would wait for JJ forever if I could. But I know that won’t get me anywhere. I’m attracted to Cal and I think it could be something, so I’m gonna give it a chance.”

“Y/n, I-” Kiara was cut off by boys heading up to the door, she could hear them before she could see them.

“I’m gonna head out, I just wanted to let you guys know that I think I might be solving this mystery.” Y/n grabbed her bag and blew a kiss towards before heading towards the door. Right as she opened the door the boys came tumbling through. Y/n shouted out her goodbyes before heading out the door.

“Where is she going? Thought we were all gonna hangout here?” John B questioned confused, looking after Y/n’s retreating figure.

“She’s got a date.” Kiara mumbled, still wracking her brain to try and come up with an idea to fix this. John B mumbled a quiet ‘oh shit’ before looking towards JJ who looked dejected.

“Looks like she got what she wanted. She found the guy who has been giving her flowers.” JJ mumbled before heading to the fridge to grab a beer. There wasn’t much else he wanted to do right now besides drink or smoke.

“JJ, man. I’m sorry.” Pope let out, heading into the kitchen. The Pogues all watched quietly, as JJ rested his elbows on the counter and then dropped his head into his hands. He threaded his fingers between the strands before pulling on his slightly out of frustration. Why hadn’t he just told her how he felt? Would it have made a difference?

“It’s alright, not your fault, bro.” JJ mumbled and Pope nearly flinched. This was his fault, it was all of their faults. They shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place. 

Pope was so focused on his guilt he hadn’t notice Kiara walk up and place something in front of JJ.

“Why the fuck are you giving me recipts? I don’t owe you for anything.” JJ grumbled, not in the mood for Kiara to bug him about paying her back for healthy food he didn’t even want in the first place.

“JJ, read them.” He glanced up to find Kiara nervously chewing on her bottom lip while the rest of their friends stood next to him. He let out a sigh before picking out a thick bundle of the slips of paper.

“You went to the market on 7th. Nice?”

“JJ, read what she fucking bought.” John B huffed getting fed up with his best friend. JJ’s eyebrows scrunched together as he read the receipt. He then began to shuffle through all of them before standing up fully and looking at Kiara.

“What the fuck? Have you been buying her flowers?” He asked incredulously.

“Yes, but JJ listen. We were hoping that it would push you to tell her how you feel and-“ JJ cut Kiara off by pointing at all of them.

“All of you were in on this shit?”

“We were trying to help.” Kiara rushed out, hoping to make amends but from the look on JJ’s face she knew that would not be happening soon.

“What? You thought I couldn’t do it myself?”

“Honestly JJ, no.” John B interrupted. “You two would be perfect together and you’re refusing to do anything about it!”

“That’s the fucking point! She’s way too good for me! She’s gonna go to college and do something with her life and I’ll be stuck here. What the fuck am I supposed to offer her? A life with a guy who is gonna go nowhere in life?”

“JJ-“ Pope tried to cut in but JJ shook his head before pointing at him.

“Honestly, I thought you would’ve had my back on this. You get how I feel.” Pope dropped his gaze, thinking about all the times he had vented about his feelings about Kiara to him.

“JJ, she’s on a date with a guy who she thinks is leaving her the flowers.” Sarah spoke up while JJ downed the rest of his beer.

“And? You guys found her a date, be proud of yourselves.”

“That wasn’t the point! The point was for you to take her on a date!” Sarah shot back, getting frustrated with him.

“That would only work if she felt the same.” JJ snapped back and John B rolled her eyes at his snippy attitude. He couldn’t stand when JJ got something stuck in his head and refused to listen to anyone else.

“Good fucking thing she does then.” Sarah snapped back and JJ froze. His eyes flickered to Kiara, the one person he really trusted to confirm your feelings right now. She gave a small nod.

“She’s liked you for years, J.” Kiara supplied.

“What?” He sounded breathless and Sarah felt a silver of hope run through her. They were getting him to listen now.

When she heard the knock at the door she took a deep breath before swinging open the door. There stood Cal, holding a bouquet of white lilies and sending her the sweetest smile. Cal gave her a soft greeting before handing over the stunning flowers.

“Hey. These are so sweet, you really didn’t have to get me more flowers.” She smiled softly before bringing the flowers up to her nose and breathing in the scent.

“Oh uh, I’ve only gotten you these flowers?” Cal had the most confused look on his face as he watched Y/n hold the flowers to her chest. Y/n faltered when she realized what she had slipped out. Her plan was to bring it up in later conversation, ask Cal if it was him instead of outright implying that it was him.”

“Oh. You haven’t been leaving me bouquets of flowers?” She bit her lip and glanced over at the other lilies sitting in the vase by the door. She felt her stomach sink as she realized she still didn’t know who was doing this for her.

“No? Did you want me to? Is this your way of asking me to bring you more flowers?” Her eyes darted back to Cal and she felt guilty for bringing her secret admirer up. That probably was not a line she should have opened up with on a first date.

“No! I just, I’ve been getting flowers everyday left on my porch for the last two weeks or so and I have no idea who it is.”

“That’s fucking expensive.” Cal let out a soft laugh, trying to break up some of the disappointment on Y/n’s face. “Listen, it seems like you’re not totally into this date so maybe it’s better if I just go.” Cal jabbed his thumb behind him pointing at his truck. He was starting to feel a little awkward about going on a date with a girl who had someone so clearly pining over her, he didn’t want to get in the middle of anything.

“No! Listen, I really have no idea who has been leaving these flowers. I’ve had my hopes and suspicions but-“

“Was I one of them? One of people you were hoping for?” Cal asked taking a step closer to her.

“You were.” Y/n confirmed looking up at him. She hadn’t realized how blue his eyes were and she couldn’t help but compare him to another boy with blue eyes she knew.

“And what about JJ Maybank?”

“I-I’m sorry?” Y/n asked completely thrown off by his question. Cal ran his hand through his hair and sent her a sympathetic smile.

“I’m sorry. I just had to ask. I’ve always thought he had a thing for you, which was what prevented me from asking you out in the first place.”

“He doesn’t, there’s no way. I-“

“Y/n!” Cal and Y/n turned to see JJ standing at the edge of driveway. His chest was heaving and she realized that he had ran here. Her breath hitched when she took in his red cut-off t-shirt and blonde locks that were tamed by his backwords hat. She felt her heart squeeze when she realized he was holding orange lilies. Not just her favorite flower, but her favorite color.

“Y/n, baby. I need to talk to you.”

“Seems like he does after all. I’ll see you around, Y/n.” Cal squeezed her arm and gave her a sweet smile before heading towards his car. She heard him greet JJ and watched in disbelief as he headed out.

“What are you doing here?” Y/n finally asked as JJ walked up to her.

“I needed to talk to you.”

“You said that. It couldn’t after waited until after my date?”

“To be fair, you don’t have a date anymore.”

“JJ.” Y/n sighed before sending him a deadpan look. “What did you need to talk to me about?”

“It’s not Cal bringing you glowers.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“He told me.”

“Well. It wasn’t me either.” Y/n felt her heart sink and she looked away from JJ to prevent him from seeing the disappointed look that crossed her face. She was too late. He saw it.

“Where are you going with this?”

“Can we talk about this inside?” Y/n turned around to open the door and let JJ inside. No one was home, her mom was working a late shift at the hospital and her older sister was staying the night with her boyfriend.

JJ followed behind her as she lead him up to her room, taking the time to appreciate her dress. His mood soured when he remembered she had worn this for another guy. When they reached her room she sat down on her bed and patted the spot next to her.

JJ had been in her room plenty of times, but this time felt different and it was making him incredibly nervous. He set the lilies on her bedside and glanced over at the picture of the two of them she had framed on her bedside. She was sat in his lap with a big smile holding her drink in the air while JJ had his arms around her waist and was smiling at the camera. He still couldn’t believe he was the one she chose to have on her nightstand, maybe their friends were really right about her liking him.

“I wasn’t the one buying you those flowers the whole time.”

“You said that.”

“It was our friends.”

“I’m sorry?” Their friends had been behind this the whole time? She couldn’t even bring herself to be mad when JJ was looking at her like she was the only girl in his world.

“I got drunk and spilled my feelings about you, they were trying to get me to confess my feeling to you.” JJ’s voice was nearly a whisper. He was scared if he spoke too loud he would scare her away. 

“Your feelings for me?” Y/n’s voice sounded shaky and she wanted to kick herself for giving away how she was feeling way too easily. She shifted so she was fully facing him, in turn moving their faces even closer. JJ’s head was turned towards her, taking in the hopeful look in her eye.

“Y/n. I can’t stand the thought of you going on a date with another guy. I know I wasn’t the one to give you flowers, and I’m sorry because I should have. You deserve that.”

“I don’t care about the flowers, J.’ 

“You don’t?”

“No, if this means you’re telling me that you like me.”

“Baby, this is me telling you that I love you.” Y/n surged forward and pressed her lips against his. JJ let out a surprised moan but was quick to recover and pull Y/n into his lap and bringing his hand to the back of her head to kiss her harder.

“I love you, JJ. I have for so long.” She pulled away quickly to whisper to him before shoving him back and crawling on top of him.

#outer banks jj #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj x you #jj x y/n #jj x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank #outer banks one shot #outer banks fic #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank angst #jj maybank x you #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank smut #outer banks blurb

[httplilyyy]

𝐈'𝐌 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘 || 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐇 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍

pairing: leah williamson x reader

summary: you tell the team you are transferring to barcelona meaning you have to tell a certain someone too. 

warnings: angst 

words: 1952

a/n: bit of a shorter fic, but i feel as if there could be a possible part three and i must say i am shocking at writing summaries 

woso masterlist | prev. part | next part

You sighed as the call with your manager finally ended. Trying to gather your thoughts you put your phone back in your pocket and walked back into your apartment where you were met with Leah pacing around the living room.

“Hey.” You smiled, albeit it was a sad one.

“I’m so sorry.” Leah rushed out. “I didn't know you’d be back and-”

“It’s fine, I promise.” You said as you walked over to Leah and gently placed your hands on the tops of her arms, trying to get her to calm down.

“I’m sorry.” Leah whispered.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry about.”

“Hey, y/l/n.” Jordan said as she walked into the living room.

“Jords.” You nodded, letting go of Leah.

“About what just happened.”

“It's fine.” You said. “I’m sorry I interrupted you two.”

“Y/n-” Leah started.

“So.. how long have the two of you been together?” You asked as you sat down on a chair whilst Leah and Jordan sat on the sofa.

“A couple of weeks.” Jordan said.

“I was going to tell you but-” Leah said.

“Leah, calm down.” You chuckled. “I’m not mad or anything like that.”

“Promise.”

“Yeah.” You said, grimacing in your mind slightly, knowing you’ve just lied to her. “Well, how did this start?”

A few weeks went by and everyone could tell the difference in your attitude and how you carried yourself in general.

You had many calls with Ben and Jonas along with the owner of Barcelona. No one knew of your transfer and you wanted to keep it that way.

You had been at Arsenal for five years now and it was your home, you never thought you’d move anywhere else but life had other plans for you.

You just couldn't live with Leah knowing that you had missed your chance and that broke your heart more than you’d like to admit.

No one knew about Leah and Jordan, other than you, so your teammates would keep coming up to you asking if either of you had made a move yet.

Essentially you both have. Leah with Jordan and you with Barcelona, but then again no one knew.

It was only a couple of days till the transfer window reopened and the news would be out but hopefully you’d be gone before then. Not without saying goodbye first, just out of your apartment.

You had already bought a place in Barcelona, luckily you had Lucy and Kiera to help you out, and you had a moving company to help you with your things.

Day by day you were sending things off and over to your new place, you had no idea how Leah hadn't figured it all out by now but that may be because her sole focus was with Jordan and football and no longer with you.

You arrived at training, ready for the day when you noticed a couple of girls giving you sorrowful looks. Confused, you wandered into the gym as you were doing weights this morning.

“Hey, y/l/n.” Katie said as she came up behind you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“Morning.” You greeted back.

“How you feeling?”

“Good, you?”

“You haven't heard?”

“Heard what?”

“About Leah and Jordan.” Katie said as she gestured in front of you at the couple.

“I already knew.” You shrugged.

“Since when?”

“Our phone call about you telling me to confess my feelings.”

“Oh god, y/n I'm so sorry.”

“It's fine, you didn't know. Hell I didn't even know and I live with Leah.”

“You’ll find someone else.”

“Thanks McCabe.” You smiled appreciatively.

“Y/n?” Jonas called out as he stood by the gym doors.

“Yeah?”

“Come with me.” He said before walking off, gesturing for you to follow him.

“Oooh, y/l/n’s in trouble.” Beth teased.

“Shut up Meado.” You chuckled before walking out yourself, unaware of the longing look from a certain blonde defender.

Leah had noticed you’ve been different around her. At first it was just at training then it slowly became more awkward at your apartment.

She didn't know why you were acting this way and whenever she would question it, you’d just blow her off for some silly excuse.

When you walked into Jonas’ office, you saw your manager sitting opposite him. You smiled at the two and sat on the spare seat, next to Ben.

“What’s up?” You asked.

Jonas let out a little sigh before straightening his posture.

“We think it's best if you tell the girls about your transfer.” Jonas said.

“I don't leave till Sunday and it's only Friday.”

“True, but we don't have a game this weekend so I've given you and the girls some time off.”

“You can't push this back any further.” Ben said softly.

“Okay.” You sighed, pushing yourself up from your chair.

As you went to open the office door, you noticed both Jonas and Ben were standing behind you.

“We’re in this together.” Jonas smiled.

You smiled back at the man and the three of you made your way back to the gym where all the rest of your teammates were.

“Girls.” Jonas called out.

The three of you stood by the doors to the gym, with you standing in front of the two men.

“What's going on?” Viv asked as everyone turned their attention to you.

“Go on.” Ben said as he gave you an encouraging smile.

“Um, so, there's something I have to tell you all.” You said, wringing your hands nervously.

“What is it?” Jen questioned.

“I’m going to be leaving-”

“What!” The girls broke out into protests.

“I- uh, I’ve signed with Barcelona.”

“Y/n.” Katie said, her voice cracking a little.

“I’m sorry.” You said, looking down at your feet.

You were soon to feel multiple arms wrap around your body, each one squeezing you as hard as they could.

The hug lasted a little while until they each broke off one by one when only one person was left hugging you, who happened to be the yellow card queen herself.

“You can't go.” Katie whispered. “I won't let you.”

“I have too, I'm sorry. I really am, but I have too.”

“When do you leave?” Lotte asked.

“Sunday.”

“Why didn't you tell us sooner?”

“Because I didn't want it to be real.” You said sadly. “I don't want to leave but I know I have to and that it’s the right thing for me.”

“You better come back and see us.” Katie said, nudging your side.

“Of course, once a Gooner always a Gooner.” You smiled.

“We’ll miss you, y/l/n.” Mana said.

“You’re like family to me, all of you.”

“Group hug!” Lia shouted.

“Not another one.” You groaned playfully, letting your teammates wrap their arms around you.

When they all pulled away again you scanned the room for a certain someone but noticed they weren't there.

“Hey, where's Leah?” You asked.

“She went off with Jordan after Jonas pulled you into his office.” Jen replied.

“Oh, right.” You mumbled. “Could you not tell her? I want to do it myself.”

“Of course.” The girls murmured in agreement.

Before you knew it, it was already Sunday. The dreaded day had finally come.

You had already said your goodbyes to the girls, just not the one person you wanted to speak to the most.

You hadn’t seen Leah in a couple of days, assuming she was staying with Jordan and in that short space of time you had managed to move all your things from the apartment the two of you shared, or used to share.

You sighed as you looked at what was once your bedroom, the room now completely empty, only a few things left in it.

Smiling sadly, you placed a letter you had written on your dresser. As cliche and old fashioned as it sounds, due to not being able to tell Leah face to face you decided a good ol’ letter would be better than a text message.

You took one more look at your room before you slid off the ring on your finger, the one that Leah had bought you god knows how long ago. Placing the small band on the dresser beside the note you decided it was finally time to leave.

Making sure everything was locked up for the last time, you exited the apartment, the place you used to call home.

You got into your car and drove off to your parents where they would keep your car till you could get it sent over to you.

It wasn't a long journey but it felt like with each corner you took and every traffic light you passed your heart was slowly becoming more heavy.

It was a fleeting visit to your parents before you quickly called an uber and set off for the airport.

You passed customs like a breeze and you were finally at the final step of the journey, just waiting to board the plane.

Your flight was called and you made your way onto the aeroplane. You sat in your seat, buckled yourself in and waited for take off.

Placing your headphones on, you blocked out the real world as you looked out the window and watched as the plane drove along the runway and up and through the clouds.

All whilst you were in the air you had no idea that Leah had just missed you. You had just got in your car whilst she got out of hers.

You drove off down the road as she opened the door to the apartment, noticing how bleak it seemed, how dead it was without you.

She called out your name multiple times, hoping and praying for you to reply back, however, there was no answer, just the dead silence and reality of what was to come.

Leah looked all over the apartment for you but you along with your things were nowhere to be found.

“Y/n?” Leah asked as she opened the door to what was once your bedroom.

Taking in what was around her or more likely what was not around her she noticed your letter and ring on your old dresser.

Confused, the defender walked over to it and opened it up. She read it over and over and over again. Trying to get your words in her mind.

“What?” Leah's voice trembled as she read your letter again.

“No, no, no.”

Leah dropped the letter and her hands fumbled for her phone. Quickly opening it up she pulled up your contact and clicked on call.

Placing her phone against her ear she paced your room, her breath increasing after every beat that passed.

“The person you are calling is unable to take the call right now, please leave a message after the tone.”

“Y/n? Please tell me you’re joking. You didn't really leave without saying goodbye did you? Please call me back, please… Please just call me.. Please.”

By this point, Leah had finally reached her breaking point. She felt her knees buckle from underneath her and she fell to the floor. Silently sobbing, Leah let the tears flow.

After a while of trying to collect and compose herself, Leah stood back up and walked over to your dresser.

Leah took a hold of your ring and played with it in her fingers before slipping it on. She picked up your letter one more time before putting it back in the envelope.

“I’m sorry.” Leah whispered as she left your bedroom, closing the door behind her.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered as you looked out of the plane's window, watching as you flew away from your old home and to a new one.

#leah williamson #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson imagines #leah williamson x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso x reader

[women-are-hot]

💕🍯🛏️ Lucy x reader

When We're Together

Request: 💕 (a moment of jealousy) 🍯 (friends to lovers) 🛏️ (only one bed)

Note: i don’t really like this, cause it got kinda messy, but i really wanted to write a lucy fic for one of my fave persons, so hopefully it’s good enough.

—

“Lucy, do you really think Keira would be alright that there’s only one bed?” you asked.

“Of course. We’re just friends and she knows it.” Lucy answered.

“Have you told her that we’re going to share a bed?”

“No and we shouldn’t tell her either.” 

“So you do think she will be pissed about it?” you asked once again.

“Of course. She thinks we have been sleeping together before, so when she saw we were roommates, her eyes went wide.” Lucy explained, waving her hands weirdly.

“Well, she isn’t wrong.” you mumbled and began brushing your hair.

“Exactly and she doesn’t need to know, we have been together. It’s also a long time ago. People should have forgotten about that 7 months relationship now” Lucy said as the two of you began laughing.

Lucy and you had always been best friends, but a few years ago, you two decided to be together, but it didn’t really work that way and now you’re back to being best friends.

“Should I brush your hair?” Lucy suddenly asked.

“That would be nice” you answered and handed her the brush and she began touching your hair.

—

As you walked in the hallways of the hotel, you heard Lucy and Kiera’s voices and your name mentioned, so you decided to listen a bit more, even if you know it’s not really the best thing to do. 

Spying on your ex-girlfriend and her girlfriend. Yep, that doesn’t sound good…

“I can’t trust her”

“Why? Y/n is a nice and sweet girl. What’s the problem?” 

“She’s totally into you. Have you seen the way she looks at you?”

“Keira, you can’t keep not trusting me and pretend to be in a happy relationship with me too” 

“Are you breaking up with me?” 

“What? That was not what I was saying”

“Well, you aren’t denying it” 

“If you’re going to continue being like this, maybe I will break up with you. I just need one thing and that is for you to grow up!” 

“Don’t worry about it Bronze, cause I’m breaking up with you right now” 

“You’re so childish”  

“Whatever” was the last thing Keira said and then she walked your way, so you had to pretend you didn’t hear anything the couple, well the ex-couple, had talked about.

You pretend to come out of your room when you bump into Keira.

This wasn’t really the plan…

“I’m sorry, Keira. My head is not the best today” you explained.

“It’s fine,” Keira said as she rolled her eyes and walked away.

Then you pretend to be surprised when you turned to the right and saw Lucy.

“Oh hi Lucy” you said, walking down to her.

“Hey Y/n” she replied.

“Anything wrong?” you asked, playing dumb.

“Well, Keira just broke up with me” she answered and then you played surprised once again.

“What? Why? Right now?” 

“Yeah…” Lucy said and you could feel her getting pretty tense about it.

“Let’s go inside our room. I think I still have some candy in my suitcase” you replied as you took her wrist and walked into your room, closing the door behind you.

“We shouldn’t eat candy on a national camp” 

“Fuck what the rules say” you said which caught Lucy by surprise. You normally never curse, only when you’re really happy.

“Are you happy that Keira and I broke up?”

“What? Why should I be happy about it?” 

“Do you like me?” 

“Of course, you’re my best-” “Y/n, I’m asking, do you like like me?” Lucy said, interrupting you.

You stayed silent and when you locked eyes with Lucy’s, you put your hands to your face.

“Kinda” you mumbled.

“What?” Lucy asked as you could feel her getting closer.

“I kinda like you and I know that I shouldn’t like you and you literally just broke up with your girlfriend, but I can’t help feeling so jealous when I see you and Keira together. I-ugh, I’m sorry that I’m a mess” you explained and then Lucy took your hands in hers, so she could see your face and when she saw your face with tears in your eyes, her own face softened with the sight.

“I just can’t stop falling in love with you and I regret everyday that we broke up!..” 

Lucy then dried a few of your tears away, giving butterflies in your stomach.

“Don’t be sorry for having feelings. I know where you’re coming from” 

“What do you mean by that?”

Then a slight silence overcame the two of you.

“I’ve also regretted breaking up with you and I have wished everyday that I could change and go back in time…to be with you”

“Why did we broke up then?” you asked and that came kinda dumb out which made you and Lucy laugh a bit.

“I don’t know, but maybe we could, you know, start over?” 

“What about Keira? The two of you just broke up” you asked.

“We should just take this slowly and enjoy each other, alright?”

“Alright” you said with a smile.

#woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #woso #gxg #engwnt imagines #engwnt imagine #engwnt x reader #lucy bronze imagines #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze x reader

[jonesyjonesyjonesy]

Wildflowers (pt. xx)

a john paul jones x fem!oc fic

summary: Julia Morgan knew nannying for three girls who had recently lost their mother would come with many challenges. But she never thought their father, the enigmatic musician John Paul Jones, would be causing her the most trouble. And while Julia is not in the business of saving broken men, her tenderness might be meant for more than little girls and wildflowers.

table of contents │ previous chapter

masterlist│ko-fi

notes: n/a

a/n: i miss you all so much, miss wf so much. i've been working my butt off on my writing career and the time i have for john and julia is so limited, but i still think about them all the time. this is just a little fluffy interlude to tide us all over until i can get to what will be a very signif chapter. so i hope you enjoy it, even if it's a little silly :)

pt. xx, eyebright

“Sir Curran for the talent, ladies.”

The lights were dimmed, the stage was set, and Jacinda was doing a marvelous job of playing a jumpy melody on her recorder.

“And here he is, Mr. Starmaker himself, your host, Hughie Green!” Tamara announced.

I began to applaud.

The curtains by the window trembled. Kiera yelped. “I’m stuck!”

Tamara looked askance nervously as if she was truly in front of a full audience, not just me sitting on the sofa cozy under a blanket with a cup of tea. “Technical difficulties, ladies and gentleman!” She snapped at the recorder playing Jacinda. “Cindy!”

Jacinda stopped playing, the last note squeaking. She huffed as she stamped over to the window where Kiera was only getting more and more tangled in the curtains.

I tried to stifle my giggles as she tried to free Kiera while Tamara stood by tapping her foot, checking her wrist for a watch that wasn't there. “The audience is waiting, Mr. Green. This is live television.”

“Okay, okay, I’m coming!” Kiera squeaked and then burst through the curtains. She looked absolutely darling in her father’s herringbone sportscoat (leave it to John that an average sportscoat would be the most shocking thing I could find in his closet) that fell all the way to her ankles, sleeves rolled up just enough so she could wave the hairbrush in her hand near her mouth as a microphone. “Ahem!” Kiera gestured to me.

“Oh, sorry!” I started to clap my hands again. “Bravo!”

Kiera bowed several times to the audience of one as she came to the center of the “stage” aka right in the middle of the playroom with the television pushed back. “Thank you, thank you! I wanted to say…” She looked over at Tamara with wide eyes.

“Birthday cards,” Tamara hissed.

“Yes! My birthday. Thank you for the cards. I’m fifty-eight but feel like I’m a hundred and eight.”

I let out a rip roaring laugh as I did every time Kiera repeated the joke. She’d heard it once on television and couldn’t stop repeating it. Tamara decided to use it to her advantage when planning out this skit for my evening’s entertainment.

Since John left, the girls had taken it upon themselves to fill the night hours with little performances for me. That way, according to Jacinda, “None of us would have to feel sad without daddy around.”

Sad was not how I felt without John around. Uneasy was more like it. Especially after the way we had left things.

To be fair to John, he didn’t know how we’d left things. After all, how could he have known that Pat and I lingered by the door listening to his conversation with Bonzo where he basically implied he wasn't sure he fancied me. After a month and change of letting him inside me again and again, letting him drown himself in the softness of my collar bone, flirt with me while everyone’s backs were turned.

After all that he wasn’t sure if he “fancied” me.

It was proof to me I should have resisted him.

However, the morning he left…made it so impossible to hate him. He woke me up by diving between my legs, languishing his tongue inside me, touching me like I was something holy. And when I had come not once but twice, he didn’t want anything in return.

“I needed to get my fill of you,” John had muttered. And then, after a kiss to the inside of my thigh I wish could have been welted onto my skin forever, he whispered, “I’m going to miss you so much.”

With several long, uninterrupted kisses amidst my bedclothes, that was our goodbye. The rest of his goodbyes were saved for the girls. With hugs and kisses and waves from the front step, we watched John and Bonzo drive off down Warren Lane.

Pat kept me company that first day. And after that…I was on my own.

Trapped between unfancied and missed, managing the house was a confusing task. It had only been four days and the girls were defaulting to me at every turn as their figurehead. Everything was up to me. John had not left instructions. And there was no threat of him returning in the middle of the night with anxiety over how I’ve stepped into the role left by Maureen.

Except I hadn’t. Not really. My presence in the Baldwin girls’ life was pear-shaped motherhood.

However, with John away in Headley, I was what they had to cling onto. John called every night, but he didn't have much time or energy to spare to them as he was still getting their bearings. My personal interactions with him were quick and to an end.

As it should be. The girls needed him. I didn’t.

I don’t, goddammit.

The nights had been long without him.

But the girls’ performances made the nights a little easier to bear.

“Tonight, we have a treat with you with star in the making Su Pollard singing an Oklahoma! favorite –”

“Everything’s up to date in Kansas –” Tamara began to belt, having changed into a flowery caftan from my closet and a yellow wig she made up of spaghetti noodles, twine, and glue.

“Not that one!” Kiera retorted.

I laughed loudly. “That was good,” I muttered, glasping my hands to my chest. “That was very clever.”

Tamara pretended to be shocked, shook her head to recalibrate, and then began to sing, “I’m just a girl who cain’t say no –“

The girls had become quite taken with the show Opportunity Knocks, a televised talent competition that included a postal voting system which meant every week, along with all of my other letters, I would mail the household vote off to ITV. The things you do to see children smile.

Unlike a professionally judged competition which would of course reward contestants with the most talent, Opportunity Knocks’ public judging system often allowed for some questionable winners.

“But will Su’s spotlight dim when up against –“ Kiera continued.

“Arf! Arf!” Jacinda barked, now on her knees with her tongue hanging out and two paper dog ears on her head held up with a headband.

“Weezy, the singing Jack Russel!”

“I know how this one ends!” I announced excitedly as Jacinda began singing “Happy Birthday” in a warbling dog voice. Su Pollard and the Jack Russel were actual contestants in the previous cycle of the show.

Guess who the girls voted for?

“This and more on tonight’s Opportunity Kno –“ Kiera’s excitable cry was cut off by the ringing of the telephone.

Jacinda was the first to alert, like a true Jack Russel would. “Daddy!”

“Hold on, girls,” I said, assuming role as the offset producer. I picked the phone out of the cradle. “We’ve got a call from the BBC. Sir Curran –” I answered. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

John’s growing smile could be heard through the telephone. “Ah, you remembered I’ve been knighted.”

“How could I forget, sir?”

The girls all crowded around me on the sofa, Tamara over the back, Jacinda at my hip, and Kiera right under my arm, struggling to get comfortable in her father’s jacket.

“So, has the BBC come back to beg for our talents?”

“Mm. Depends. Let me talk to the talent.”

Adorably, the first night of our silly skits, John had wanted in on the action even though I could hear the exhaustion in his voice. So he played the role of Director-General of the BBC, Sir Charles Curran. Damn him for continuing to be so utterly charming.

I smiled and held the phone out for the girls. “Sir Curran for the talent, ladies.”

The girls clamored for the phone, all of them screaming as their various roles. I retracted the phone out of their reach. “One at a time, ladies. And dog.”

Jacinda barked and panted. I patted her head lovingly as Tamara snatched the phone from my hands.

“Sir Curran, Su Pollard here –”

“But I’m Hughie Green! I should get to speak first,” Kiera whined.

“Shhh, you’ll get your turn,” I told her and pulled her into my chest.

Kiera pressed her cheek against my bosom and harrumphed until Tamara’s turn was over, then harrumphed more when Jacinda took the next turn, citing that she was the second eldest and therefore should get the second turn.

By the time it got to Kiera, she was weepy and could barely hold the phone herself so I held it for her. “S-sir Curran? They are being very unfair to me.”

I stifled a laugh, overhearing John tutting Kiera and then coddling her in the best way he knew how. While they spoke, Tamara and Jacinda set to cleaning up the stage.

“No, they’re not nice to me. They’re never nice to me.”

“Kiera…” I patted her back and eyed Tamara who gave me a shrug. The bane of Kiera’s existence would always be that she was the youngest and smallest, therefore everything was very unfair to her while the reality was most everything was unfair to Tamara. Still, I remained impartial.

“Yes, Julia’s nice to me. But Julia has to be nice so that doesn’t count.” Kiera waited and then let out a frustrated screech. “I am not tired, Daddy!” meaning she was indeed very tired and bedtime was imminent. “You’re mean too!”

Kiera shoved the phone up into my face. I could hear John intonating carefully, “Kiera, love, this is the only time you get to talk to me today and you’re choosing to be grouchy.”

“You have to say goodbye,” I whispered to Kiera, but she shook her head, shoved me away, and ran out of the room.

“Kiera? Hello? Is anyone there?”

I sighed and pressed the phone to my ear. “I’m afraid Mr. Greene can be rather dramatic when he’s in need of beauty rest.”

“Mm, I know a few people like that. Mr. Page wasn’t up until noon.”

I giggled, but stopped myself when I felt Jacinda look at me. I covered the receiver and nodded toward the door. “Girls, you head up to bed. Check on your sister if you can. And say goodnight to your father.”

I held the phone out for both of the girls to cry out their goodnights as they loped out of the room.

“Well, at least they sound like they’re in good spirits,” John murmured.

“Yes, they are. Everything was going swimmingly up until you’re call.”

“Oh, well I beg your pardon.”

I pinched my nosebridge. “Sorry, that’s not what I meant.”

He laughed, a hiccupping quiet thing. “I know you didn’t. I’m giving you a hard time.”

I paused, letting his breath shuffle into my ear. Other than the static of the phone, it was as if he was in bed with me.

“And you, Julia?”

“Me? Just fine. You?”

John sighed. “Fine. Tired. We’ll be working a little while more today, probably.”

“You ought to be the one to sleep in tomorrow. Give Jimmy a run for his money.” Jimmy's name made my mouth immediately hot, uncomfortable, dangling bait for John.

“I like the way you think,” John replied, the warm tone of his voice remind me of his arms wrapping around me. “No, every time I decide to be a handful, someone always outdoes me. I’m resigned to being agreeable.”

I chewed on my lower lip. “Well, that’s not always a bad thing.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

Since he'd left, our phone conversations were normally limited to a short back and forth, often a veiled one if the girls were in the room, ending with one of us trailing off and the other going, “Well, I'll let you go.” Unceremonious.

We hadn’t learned how to care for one another from afar. I wasn’t sure if we’d ever learn it.

I tugged on a lock of my hair. “I should get the girls in bed and –”

“Listen, are you particularly tired tonight?”

I froze, fingers tightening around the phone. For him, I would stay awake for days. “No. Not particularly.”

“Then I’ll give you a call when we’re done. Say around half past eleven. Is that alright?”

I started salivating, my mouth preparing for hours of conversation. “Yes, that’s qu-quite alright.”

“Oh good. Good, I’ve…I’ve really needed to hear your voice more than just a few moments at a time.”

I leaned back on the couch and pressed my palm to my head, smacking it over and over. This man was eluding my ability to categorize him. “Yes, it’d be nice then to chat,” I said after a moment too long of leaving him hanging. “I want to hear about everything going on there.”

John laughed. “Trust me, Julia, I don’t know if you want to hear everything going on here.”

Oh, but I did. Every sordid detail. The drinking, the drugs, the inevitable discussions of women and perhaps parades of them too. I wanted it all.

“Alright, dear girl, I’ve got to go.”

Dear. Girl. Bloody fucking hell.

“Half past eleven. You have the right to go to sleep on me if I’m a minute late.”

“I’ll wait at least two before I give up on you.”

John hummed. “You’re quite a romantic, are you?”

“Not all women would give a man two extra minutes, but me? Well…” I drew my foot up my leg delicately. “I’m a romantic.”

“Be careful with that voice, you’re going to put me in a compromising position.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, my body all aflutter imagining what he was imagining. “God, you have to bring that up right before I’m going to say goodbye?”

He let out a low chuckle and then: “Half past eleven.”

“Half past eleven,” I repeated.

And then I heard the click of him hanging up. I pressed the phone to my chest and sighed heavily. This is bad…this is so –

I wasn’t left alone with my thoughts for more than five seconds before I heard a sharp cry from upstairs and my name being called with tearful anger by Miss Kiera.

You’ll be pleased to know that after a hellish bedtime routine and nighttime shower where the water would not get hot enough, John called. In fact, he called early. Eleven o’ three.

He kept me up until nearly two. Talking about nothing and everything.

Not a mere mention of our bodies. The way they had begun to gravitate toward one another. The familiarity we had earned from John becoming a landmark in my bed.

Yet the want was all the same.

“We should get to bed, shouldn’t we?” I asked after a long silence, my eyes falling shut as I sprawled out across my small sofa.

“Must we?”

I hummed.

“Oh, I know that hum. That’s a tired hum.”

I wondered how many times he’d heard Mo hum over the phone, across an ocean. Made me sad to realize he couldn’t run home if he needed her. No man can run on water, even with the most profound love in his heart.

“I’m sorry I can’t give you my eleven o’clock number.”

“Mmmwhat would it be?”

“’So long, farewell…’” John sang the first bars of a tune from The Sound of Music.

I snorted. “You’ve been spending too much time with Robert, haven’t you?”

“Suppose so, Julie Andrews.”

I may have been able to keep this up until morning if he kept making me swoon.

“You better not pull the curtains down to make any outfits for the girls. Especially not in the playroom. I’m fond of those.”

“What about a kerchief for my hair?”

John laughed. “Don’t get cheeky. I’ll be checking them over when I get home." Saliva moved in his mouth. "Although the blue would certainly suit your eyes.”

My body was gleefully numb until we said goodnight.

After all, a man wouldn’t know the eye color of a woman he didn’t fancy, would he?

tag list: @jimmys-zeppelin, @kari-12-10, @grxtsch, @digitcc, @ritacaroline, @kyunisixx, @salixfragilis, @rebel-without-a-zeppelin, @jimmypages, @dollyvandal, @cassiana-on-dark-side, @thepinklovewitch, @faisonsunreve, @sastrugie, @seventieswhore, @t4ngerinedr3am, @mayspringcome, @barrettavenue, @foreverandadaydarling, @glimmerofsanity, @montereypopgroupie, @lzep, @jimmysdragonsuit13, @n0quart3r, @larsgoingtomars, @paginate54, @leveeisbreaking (let me know if you’d like to be added 💋)

#john paul jones #led zeppelin #john paul jones x oc #wildflowers #wf #julia morgan #baldwin girls

[octolingkiera]

decided to start posting the fills i made as a part of @sariphantom's Rise August prompts. got six so far. sorry the tumblr post is so late lol. i don't normally post fics to my main like this.

check out the fic on ao3 to get the full experience!!

Prompt: Day 1: Mad Dogs

Summary:

“Okay, Mad Dogz,” Raph says one day when they’re out following a mutant crime alert, “let’s roll out.”

“Still can’t believe we haven’t come up with a better name than that,” Leo gripes, rolling his eyes and following the motion with his whole body. “I mean, really. None of us are dogs, and none of us are really that mad.” He looks between each of his brothers, searching. “Right?”

Words: 1,295

🐢❤️💜💙🧡🐢

“Okay, Mad Dogz,” Raph says one day when they’re out following a mutant crime alert, “let’s roll out.”

“Still can’t believe we haven’t come up with a better name than that,” Leo gripes, rolling his eyes and following the motion with his whole body. “I mean, really. None of us are dogs, and none of us are really that mad.” He looks between each of his brothers, searching. “Right?”

“I dunno, Leo,” Mikey says, contemplative. “I am filled with a lot of rage…” He adopts a thinking pose, brow furrowed and eyes distant, hand gripping his chin.

Raph sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He says nothing but his reaction speaks for itself.

Donnie, not bothering to look up from his phone, flaps a hand in the air dismissively. “I keep all my anger bottled up in here,” he taps his chest, “and hope one day it will just kill me. Like a normal person,” he adds, as if what he just described is unequivocally a universal experience.

Leo purses his lips and steeples his hands, holding this fingers to his mouth. “So that’s a yes to the mad, then.”

“Or it could be, like, the coo-coo for cocoa puffs type of mad!” Mikey chimes in, crossing his eyes and swirling a finger beside his ear. “Y’know, like British people say.”

“Ew,” Leo says, because that’s all that needs to be said about that.

Raph slices his hands through the air, groaning. “Alright, that’s enough!” He sighs again and crosses his arms. “It’s a cool name. I like the name. We’re keeping the name—”

“For now,” Leo cuts in, arching a brow.

“We’re keeping the name, and that’s it.” Raph turns on Leo to growl out the words, then straightens. “Now quit stalling. We got a bad guy to bust!”

“I’m just saying,” Leo says, hours later, after the bad guy is beaten, their victory Run of the Mill pizza has been consumed, and their after-victory pizza (aka, tomorrow’s lunch) has been purchased to take home. “There’s gotta be a better name out there. Something that really says who we are and what we’re about. Something that describes us. Something that makes people think of us when they hear it.”

“Oh, here we go again,” Mikey groans, slumped over on Raph’s shell as the biggest brother carries the youngest and also the stack of half a dozen pizzas. “Maybe if we just let it happen he’ll tire himself out.”

Raph’s next exhale is heavy, the burden of Atlas in his eternal torment. “Pizza Supreme, I wish.”

“Like who?” Donnie asks, unable to help himself from engaging with Leo in a verbal spar. “Who exactly are we trying to get to remember us? The bad guys? They don’t even know our names.”

“They don’t?” Mikey asks, frowning. “Well that’s rude of us.”

Donnie rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “We’re not trying to market ourselves here. We’re effectively vigilantes, moonlighting as heroes for no other reason than we can. It’s better we stay under the radar, so to speak.”

“Just a secret between us and all of New York,” Leo says with a laugh. “Face it, guys. We’re not exactly very subtle.” He gives Donnie a sideways look as he says, “Especially not when we’re in the Turtle Tank.”

Donnie gasps and glares at Leo. To anyone that doesn’t know Donnie, they might assume that he’s genuinely offended, but Leo knows his brothers better than himself—there’s no heat to Donnie’s glare, and he’s holding himself the way he does when he’s entirely at ease with himself and the situation. “Gasp! You take that back! My baby is a marvel of engineering! A masterpiece of technology! How dare you imply that she’s an eyesore!”

“You said it, not me.” Leo shrugs, feigning disinterest. “I mean really. Who drives a tank around? Especially in the city.”

“I don’t have to sit here and listen to your slander! You’re just jealous she’s better than you!” Donnie tips his nose up and crosses his arms, looking away with a huff.

“There’s nothing to be jealous of,” Leo says, shaking his head, expression full of melodrama as he flings the tails of his mask over his shoulder. “I’m already the best-looking thing in this town.”

As Leo and Donnie devolve into increasingly nonsensical arguments, Mikey pokes Raph in the temple to get his attention. “So why’d you pick that name anyway, Raph?”

Raph tilts his head away from the prodding and lets out a singular chuckle. “I dunno. I just thought it sounded cool. Tough. Somethin’ that would show that we’re heroes. Hero teams have team names.” He shrugs, nearly jostling Mikey from his perch. “That’s it.”

Mikey giggles and snuggles closer. “Well I like it,” he says, wrapping an arm around Raph’s neck in a loose hug. “Leo’s just jealous he can’t come up with anything better,” he says, whispering into Raph’s ear to avoid drawing Leo’s attention.

“Heh, well, you know Leo. He’s just gotta do everything he can to be a pain the ass,” Raph says, picking up the pace to take the lead of the group, scooping up Leo in his free arm as he overtakes him. Leo squawks and struggles, but soon resigns to his fate as Donnie snickers at him.

It’s during one of Leo’s will-they-won’t-they sleepless nights that he decides to brainstorm a few new team names. He plays around with a few options, narrowing down the elements he wants to include—namely the turtle, the ninja, the mutant, and the teenage aspects—but he just can’t make the connection work. He even writes it down, filling a whole notebook page with scratched out suggestions that don’t make the cut, but eventually he gives it up, promising himself to come back to the idea when he’s had a bit more sleep.

He never really gets to do that.

Between Draxum, the Foot, the Shredder, Big Mama, the Shredder again, adjusting to the new lair, trying and failing to adjust to the new leader thing, and then the Krang, the whole issue of their team name falls to the wayside.

It’s not until a week or so after he wakes up from his brief coma that the topic ever comes up again.

“Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles,” Raph says one day, apropos of nothing, sitting beside the medbay bed Leo’s been (and will be, for the foreseeable future) laid up on. “Hell of a good team name.” He smiles and it pulls funny at the bandages still sitting over his damaged eye. “Good job, Leo.”

“I can’t take all the credit,” Leo says, immediately, instinctively. He takes a few seconds to process what’s being said to him, then shakes his head. “It wasn’t all me. We came up with it together.”

Raph chuckles and shakes his head, cradling Leo’s hand between his own. “Yeah, I guess we did.”

“Not as good as Mad Dogz though,” Leo admits, a tiny smile on his face. It lights up his eyes, despite the sallow complexion and mottled bruises. “Well,” he backtracks, shifting into a smirk as he turns his eyes away, pretending to think, “maybe not worse. Just as good. I did help come up with it, after all.”

Raph laughs, the sound coming from deep in his belly, and Leo joins in with breathy little giggles that rattle his broken ribs and irritate the cracks in his shell and plastron. It hurts but it’s the good kind of hurt; the hurt that comes from joy.

It feels nice to laugh, even if it’s about something as silly as a team name. Who really cares, in the end? Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Mad Dogz, or something else, they’re still the same people.

Mutants. Turtles. Whatever.

#rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #rottmnt fanfiction #rise august art challenge #rise august #kiera writes fics #this was really fun to write #more to come!

[lily-orchard-gossip-blog]

something i’ve realized is that lily has fallen into writing a weirdly consistent (and creepy) character dynamic (barring the sith resurgence and maybe her wow fics?) lately: that being a female protagonist, her uncomfortably-close sister/best friend, and optionally the protagonists’ romantic partner who feels more like a third wheel/narrative shield when lily gets accused of writing incest positively. it’s like this for poke-madhouse, it’s like this for iris and kiera, it’s like this for her avatar fic, and even stockholm fell into this to some extent (iirc scootaloo was rainbow dash’s adopted daughter and not considered her sister in that fic)

To be fair, she was a little more creative in TSR with the shielding, where the girls fantasized about how weird it would be if they were raised as sisters and still dated. (The latter of which being blamed on Rey for going there, and Aliana gets off scotch free.)

More of a dance with incest, and I hate that we can now say that Lily was putting effort in hiding her fetish.

Not sure about the wow fic thought. Be funny if that was the one exception to the rule.

#lily orchard #tsr

[alessioa]

Navigation

Hello everyone!

I'm Ray, She/They and I write , as you may have guessed of seen.

I am a Barcelona and Arsenal fan, but that doesn't limit who I write for.

I only write about/for women playing football (or soccer if that's what you wanna call it). Most of my fics are x Reader but I can write stuff thats not x Reader

Requests: Open

Masterlist

Lionesses

Leah Williamson

Hard Times - Leah gets injured and reader is there for her

Sicky (with Lucy Bronze and Kiera Walsh) Reader is sick but doesn't want to tell anyone [Platonic]

Lucy Bronze

Sicky (with Leah WIlliamson and Kiera Walsh) Reader is sick but doesn't want to tell anyone [Platonic]

Headaches and a concerned Lucy Reader has a migraine and refuses to stay home

Georgia Stanway

Hard Header Part 1 Part 2 Georgia passes out after a header

#navigation #masterlist #woso

[dangerously-human]

3, 26, 50 for the writer ask game :)

Thank you for your patience, I know I took forever to answer all of these but this one took even longer because I decided to indulge myself with ALL the details and that was a time-consuming genuine delight. 😅

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?

I am a big fan of playing with metaphor and challenging myself with defined structure. Years ago, I wrote a Continuum fic (Still Here) with POV from every character in the story, with the swaps happening in a sort of chain based on who the characters interacted with - Dillon talks to Carlos, then we're in Carlos's POV until he thinks about Garza, then we're with Garza until she picks a fight with Emily, and so on - all looking at the same theme of how Kiera returning to her time left a hole that deeply affects everyone she left behind. Love giving myself a theme to work around, like chapters in developing relationship fic each based on a color of the rainbow. As is probably quite apparent, I enjoy writing "five times/things" fics and drabbles, and combining the two. Sometimes I go a step further and do the variations on a theme thing for five interconnected drabbles, like the Sparky five senses series. I like giving myself a challenge with fanfiction so it still feels like I'm growing my writing skills, even though a lot of things come easier than with original works.

26. Would you rather write a fic that had no dialogue or one that was only dialogue?

Easy, I write fics sans dialogue all the time. I do really enjoy dialogue and I think I've improved my ability to write it a lot, but introspection is still where I thrive.

50. Answer any question of your choice, or talk about anything you want to talk about!

Oh goodie, love this question! I'm going to answer 29: What songs would be (or are) on a playlist for [Here's a Safe Place to Lay Your Heart Down]? Explain your choices if you want!

I never used to be the kind of writer who had separate playlists for individual projects (outside of the occasional original work), just one massive playlist for the fandom. It's been a fun way to focus on some of the more effort-heavy, long-term WIPs! Here's the one for the ring fic:

The Graduate - The Arcadian Wild: The bittersweetness of growing up and your perspective shifting so you see the world as it truly is, for better and worse simultaneously. "When you were younger, you dreamed of being tall, but you discovered growing up just leaves you feeling small" / "Failing is fruitful, so long as we do not forget to move" / "We are wandering through the wild, we are wondering when not if we'll reach the other side... When we were ever alone? Together we'll make our way home"

Anomaly - Angels & Airwaves: Lockwood crush angst! "I never wanted to say how much I liked you, I never wanted to be one of your sad discoveries" - not feeling worthy of Lucy

Dark Mirage - Matthew Parker, HIDDEN EYES: Lockwood struggling and Lucy feeling helpless. "I don't possess the power to drive off the darkness that's haunting you, I pray the truth gets louder" - Felt fitting for the wallowing portions of this fic, considering Lockwood vastly overestimates his negative effect on Lucy. Also like... this level of angst is exactly what Lockwood is terrified of inflicting on Lucy, it's not actually like this but he's worried it could be if he's not constantly on high alert (which is what Lucy tells him she's willing to do if he ever needs it)

Taxi Cab - Twenty One Pilots: Ooh, this one hits hard on so many Lockwood & Co levels. "I wanna fall inside your ghost and fill up every hole inside my mind, and I want everyone to know that I am half a soul divided" is just such a good way to showcase Lockwood's growth, from the soul divided being between life and death to being part of a whole (with Lucy). The repetition of "don't be afraid" throughout a lyrical story that is so Lockwood all over just. Argh, it's very very hard for me to put this one into words. Like how the "don't be afraid" could at first be giving up but then it's a promise not to. And it gets at the same idea as the books do with Lockwood as both Christ figure and the one saved ("and then I asked them, am I alive and well or am I dreaming dead? And then one turned around to say, we're driving toward the morning sun, where all your blood is washed away and all you did will be undone"). There's a lot of imagery here I associate with the Other Side and the return, and so I connect it with Lockwood sort of dying and, upon symbolic resurrection, choosing a new life that involves opening himself up to Lucy... Ugh, yeah, this one's harder to explain, it just means a LOT to me

Hot Tea - half•alive: Obsessed with this as Lockwood being pathetically in love, tbh ("Wanna be here ar your door 12am and sleeping on your porch until you get in, looking into your eyes endlessly, crawling into your lap desperately"), and "can't afford to lose you any longer" fits very well for the canon era chapter, but also just the warmth of belonging to each other ("Hold you in my hands like hot tea, knowing I'm safe 'cause you want me")? That is always the Locklyle vibe I'm going for, but especially in this fic. Also the line "sip you through my front teeth" makes me think of Lockwood and his blue whale thing, hahaha

Spiders - Bear's Den: I will eventually come back to write the spiders symbolism kidfic that slots in later in this series, which is the only reason I did not end up using these lyrics for this fic despite it fitting the vibe so well. (Love, I'm Trying had at least three WIPs competing to use it as a title for a while there.) But, yeah, the whole thing with spiders as indicative of a haunting lends extra power to this one in an L&Co context, with lines like "I can't take back all the hurt I've caused, everything I love I have somehow lost, it's four in the morning abd the spiders are crawling in my mind, replaying pictures of all I can't undo, love, I'm trying, but I can't oull myself when the darkness comes" - and that being when Lockwood has to learn to go to Lucy, because that's what they do for each other, they pull each other out when they can't do it alone

Rain Clouds - The Arcadian Wild: The growth! While usually I associate this song more with Lucy, it does still work for Lockwood and the guilt he carries, moving from "I'm being shadowed by my past, reminding me of what I was and what I could become" to a sort of conversation of "I need someone to be my guide, listen to my voice, close your frightened eyes, hide behind my love for you, fear's only a choice, one that we all must make someday"

BREAKFAST - half•alive: Chosen as the title source for good reason; this song is all about vulnerability and the mortifying ordeal of being known, and practicing embracing the safety of leaving your heart in someone else's hands - starting out feeling reluctant and even panicky at the idea of openness ("I fled to the walls, yeah, be sure I'm surrounded, where no one can find me") to fighting your instincts and opening up no matter how hard it is, and being met with the reassurance of being seen and loved in all your complexity ("say you're open through tears and trembling, it's a major step, it's okay to fret, here's a safe place to lay your heart down"), and the reminder that messing up doesn't mean you've broken the relationship irreparably ("it's a second chance, it won't be your last"), which is a message Lockwood really needs to hear from Lucy in this fic, as they repeat old patterns with new endings

Lifeline - Angels & Airwaves: The forgiveness and gentleness Lucy offers Lockwood - "We all make mistakes, here's your lifeline"

Your Burden is Mine - Sarah Sparks, Kenny Komatsu: The doing life together part, a reminder that it's pride that intereferes with letting love in - "Don't spare me from anything, your burden is mine" / "Careful, my brother, there on your own, for it is a fool who suffers alone, there's none self-sufficient, only those who try, so swallow your pride, your burden is mine"

TrusT - half•alive: Ooh, this song absolutely messes me up re: redemption, and also unchanging adoration/stability even in the midst of conflict. Lockwood needs to hear it from a romantic relationship perspective ("rest and know the love you hold won't be taken back, no, how sweet the taste of certainty, the gift you gave is safe with me"), but it hits hard for me from a Christian theology perspective - and isn't that just the surprise theme of this fic, the ways marriage is meant as an echo of Christ's love for his bride, the Church. Also fits really well for this in-between space they find themselves in as they have an answer for the Problem yet are still working on the solution ("the tug of war in the now-not-yet... can you tell me why I feel this way? I have faith that the world I'm in will be redeemed again, but there's a weight that I can't explain, so tell me why I feel this way"), which I think is a tension in the background of most of my work in this particular series

The Kitchen - Tow'rs: For the imagery of dancing together in the kitchen as a way of making amends after a fight - "You made me dance in the kitchen with you, if I was the night then you were the moon"

What Home Feels Like - The Afters: Gosh this song is so CUTE, and that is the Locklyle vibe! Just the idea of finding home and belonging with the person you love - "There is no place I'd rather be for the first time in my life, I know what home feels like" / "No, I never wanna leave, 'cause I've found where I belong, this is what home feels like"

Let's Get Married - Bleachers: This is THE love post-trauma song, and fits the warmth of 35 Portland Row so well along with Lucy and Lockwood promising to make it work even when it's crazy hard, because they recognize where they're a little broken but they also believe building a life together is worth it

#personal #writer probs: fanfic edition #lockwood & co

[devilmademewriteit]

meet the freak (point and laugh)

hi everyone I’m being a grown up and setting my blog up for realz so here’s a meet the author typa beat thing

who I am

A 21 year old French-Canadian Sagittarius, baby! queer, ashkenazi, doing an English major, hopefully a future lawyer. Big feminist (despite what my writing might consist of LOL). I write songs, too! I got adhd and ocd and love to talk about them so hit the inbox if you ever want to chat about that xx

I started writing music and fiction at ten. I’m on tumblr to share my depraved ideas and to practice my authorial skills:-)

what I like

Lana motherfucking Del Rey, Stevie Nicks, SZA, Lucy Dacus, Rihanna, Heart, shirts that show off my rack. Margaret Lawrence and Margaret Atwood and a lot of gender theory. Drunk Dancing. I’m a big fan of moral philosophy (John Stuart Mill and Krenshaw are my favs) and ecocriticism — I’m writing my honours thesis on indigenous ways of knowing, particularly in connection with anti-humanist narratives centering non-human species (I love magpies and mother trees). Canadian humour and Canadian wildlife. Oh — I also love a good em-dash. DILFS.

Favourite movies: Pride & Prejudice (with Kiera, the best of the best), the Shawshank Redemption, Hairspray, Waiting for Guffman, Les Intouchables, Avatar I and II, Revenge of the Sith and Return of the Jedi, the original Halloween and Scream, and The First Avenger.

Favourite Shows: Supernatural, Parks N Rec, Narcos & The Last of Us, the Boys, Arrested Development, Call My Agent, Rupaul’s Drag Race, and so many more I lose track.

what I don’t like

Real person fic, slow talkers, capitalism, and Leonardo Dicaprio. Militarism, imperialism, and colonialism. Rhubarb. Friends (the show) and Heidegger. TERFs (all transphobes, really), and artists who don’t reblog other artist’s work. HUMANISM. Men who take credit for women’s ideas. The gender binary. Honestly, I could go on forever. Feel free to give me ideas.

what I write

For now, dark fic involving Pedro characters & dark fic about Soldier Boy from the Boys. Might be more later on, but that’s it for now.

what I won’t write

Overly specific requests (it’s always going to be reader insert so don’t ask me to use your name or defining characteristics), anything related to feet or bodily fluids beyond cum LOL, real person fic (yes, that includes Pedro, he is a person), and fandom cross-overs.

Generally, I’m slow on requests — this isn’t because I don’t like or won’t write your kind of request, it’s just because I’m a gal who works 2 jobs and has a full course load, and I have a lot of my own fics in the works.

what you can send me in my inbox

Any and all thoughts (but please don’t trauma dump or send me hate lol). Suggestions, requests, accolades, song requests, questions you may have about myself or about my interests! Feel free to leave fic recs in there, too.

I’m a sensitive gal so if my work revolts or triggers you, please just block me and move along. I have so many warnings about my content — please heed them and protect yourself.

I’ll probably add more to this later on, but that’s all I can think of for now.

Kisses,

-em<3

#meet the blogger #meet the author #meet the writer #intro post

[tothelasthoursofmylife]

8th Anniversary!

And it's still going on! I'm still writing it!!! With every passing year, I am rather glad (and surprised by myself) that I am still writing it and that I still love to write Watchdog of the Queen. At the same time, I cannot help but think/compare how much time has passed vs how much progress I've made with this story so far orz but I keep going, even if slowly, so that's something at least! And thank you so much for (still) reading this fanfic, even if updates are slow. Sorry for that!

No new update today. However, when I started writing WotQ, I was a teen with time/energy and far too many (often dumb) ideas. For many, I wrote the first chapter or the first few chapters and then shelved them, never to see the light of day - until today! If anyone's interested in some old, terrible Cloudia/Undertaker fic starters, they're under the cut. (They are posted as I left them.)

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The Princess

I am a fan of The Selection series by Kiera Cass. I reread The Heir and The Crown earlier this year and I loved them more than when I initially read them. Obviously, I had to think of a spoof of it. Cloudia having her own Selection, with Cedric (and Milton and Kamden (rip) and some others; this was an AU of WotQ, not just another Cloudia/Undertaker fanfic...) amongst the candidates. The notes file was last edited in 2016; the first chapter below in 2017. Very obviously based on The Heir. Just worse. (Why tf didn't I even change the kingdom's name??? I even made a cover edit, rip)

The kingdom of Illéa had been reigned by born kings for a long time now. No matter if there was a girl born before a boy, the boy would become crown prince upon his birth and thus obtain the privilege to someday become king.

However, sometimes times changed.

The current king, King Simon, was an only child who had married a woman who had given birth to an only child too ‒ me, Princess Cloudia. And despite their efforts, I had always stayed an only child. Therefore, I couldn’t be overruled by a younger brother, and thus it was me who was to be the ruler someday.

Me, Princess Cloudia, the first queen to hold the title on her own.

The fact that after all these years a girl would ascend the throne wasn’t very pleasant for the Royal advisers. After all, such a case had never happened before. But knowing that they couldn’t change this fact even though they badly wanted to, they did their best to convince my father, the King, that I needed intense training ‒ an even more intense training than the one he had received as a young prince. Wanting to support my talents and making it able for me to be the best I would ever be, Father had agreed. And from that day on, I was tormented by the adviser’s ridiculous lessons and teachings.

Fearing that I could fail to be queen, they let me undergo a dreadful training. However, they had never imagined that I would learn so fast and surpass my teachers in a very short time.

I was Princess Cloudia Phantomhive, the genius, the prodigy. No one was as powerful as I was.

***

I was peacefully reading in the small forest in the Palace’s garden when Lisa Greene, my maid, approached me, and for some reason I had the fear that something incredibly bad would happen today.

“Princess Cloudia,” Lisa said after she had curtsied in front of me. “Your parents, the King and the Queen, want to speak to you in private.”

***

When I entered my father’s office, I knew that something was entirely wrong. Still, I sat down at the table and remained calm.

“Cloudia, how are you? We haven’t seen you since breakfast,” King Simon asked. Unlike his daughter and wife, Simon stood beside the window.

“I am fine. Also because you would have never summoned me here just to ask me how I was doing, I guess this is just something for you to avoid the topic you actually want to speak of.” Cloudia leaned back, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Don’t beat around the bush, Father, and tell me straightaway why I’m here.”

Simon sighed. “It is your fault, Penny, that she is such a bold girl,” he mumbled to his wife.

“Well, you could have chosen one of the other thirty-four Selected girls, Simon,” Queen Penelope replied with a soft smile on her lips.

Simon walked away from the window and positioned himself behind his wife’s chair, grabbing the backrest. “Thanks, Penny. These were exactly the right words.”

Cloudia frowned. “What are you talking about, Father?”

The King swallowed. He looked uneasy. “Well, Cloudie... as you know, the situation between us and the British Empire has sharpened lately. We are still trying to negotiate with them as best as we can, but if we do not manage to defuse the situation...” He swallowed again. “Our country’s people are feeling uneasy, suspecting that something is wrong. But we cannot allow them to know about our current situation ‒ it would just cause a huge panic all over the country. However, with our people feeling uneasy and suspicious, we cannot properly negotiate with the British Empire, and thus we cannot defuse the situation.”

“I know about our relation with the British Empire,” Cloudia said. “And I know about our people being uneasy, but why did you summoned me here? Just to tell me something I have already known?”

Penelope and Simon exchanged a look.

“Well, Cloudia...” Simon started again, his voice a little bit shaky. “You know how your mother and I met, and you know that holding a Selection for the future sovereign to find their consort is a tradition in this country...”

Cloudia’s eyes widened in the moment she understood why she was here.

No.

“No,” she said aloud. “No, no, no! I am not going to have a Selection! And definitely not because we have to distract our people somehow so that we can calmly negotiate with the British Empire!”

“Cloudie, dear, just listen...”

“No!” Cloudia raised up from her chair. “You cannot do that to me!”

“Sooner or later you would have to hold a Selection anyway,” Penelope stated. “Just because you are going to be the first Royal-born queen of this country does not mean that you can skip this country’s traditions.”

Cloudia clenched her fists. “I know that, Mother. But I am not ready to marry now. I am just sixteen. I cannot do that now.”

“But you do not have to marry straightaway after the end of the Selection, Cloudia. We would wait until you’re older.”

“But I also don’t want to settle on some stranger now! And what if... what if I just don’t find anyone suitable among these boys? Do I have to bound myself to someone I despise to all eternity?”

“There will be thirty-five boys, Cloudia. The Selection has worked so many times now ‒ why shouldn’t it work on you?”

Cloudia crossed her arms in front of her chest again. “Just because you two are basically a fairy tale doesn’t mean that I will find myself in one too.”

“And what about the kings and queens before us? They all fell in love during a Selection.”

“And what if they actually didn’t? What if they had to marry someone just because they were obliged to pick anyone at the end of the Selection, even though they didn’t like any of them? What if all we know about the previous Selections is a lie?”

“Now you are being ridiculous,” Penelope pointed out.

“I am not being ridiculous. I am being rational.”

The Queen leaned forward, narrowing her eyes. “Cloudia. We had planned to hold your Selection after you turned eighteen, but think about our situation... If we don’t distract our people and they find out about our unfortunate situation, we wouldn’t have to deal with problems outside of our borders, but also inside them. It wouldn’t benefit our negotiations.” Her gaze softened. “Please, Cloudie, we wouldn’t hold your Selection so early if we had the option to avoid it. During a Selection, the mood of our country’s people was always at its best ‒ like when you were born or your father and I were married. And we need something now which can lift their mood, Cloudie. There just isn’t something more effective than a Selection.”

Cloudia sighed.

Being a princess, especially one who was also the heir, was sometimes quite annoying.

“Very well... but I will only do it under two conditions: One, I want the Selected to be able to leave on their own accord. Two, if I simply cannot find anyone suitable during my Selection, I want to have the freedom to end it without me becoming engaged to someone.”

Penelope chuckled. “No, we cannot allow your second condition. You would eliminate all of the boys on the very first day if we did.”

“And what if I promise to let the Selection run for at least three to four months?”

Penelope exchanged a look with Simon who had started to look awfully uneasy and had not said anything for a while now. “Very well,” he silently said in the end. “We will do it like you have suggested it. We will announce your Selection during the next Report.”

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

The Amazing Grim Reaper

... A uhm, recap series for between the arcs, with fourth-wall-breaking commentary from Cedric and Cloudia. I wrote three chapters for that and started the fourth and fifth. I thought of "alternate chapter titles" and even made edits of the chapter covers. The recaps were meant to be drawn, I think, and that's what (thankfully!!) doomed them. They were all last edited in 2016, and below is the first chapter. Yikes.

Cloudia: I did not seduce anyone!

Cedric: *laughs* Of course you did, Countess! Shall I remind you what you said to our all-time favourite Lord Parrish? *imitating Cloudia´s voice* “You´re not that bad yourself, Lord. Your footwork is exquisite.”

Cloudia: *scowls at him* I guess that you need better glasses as you have obviously over-read this: “I wasn´t lying ‒ I found his footwork was as exquisite as the appetizers given out at this party.”

Cedric: I don´t understand how this should help you. After all, this sentence only strengthens the fact that you fell head over heels in love with Parrish and tried to seduce him. You are comparing him to food after all! Exquisite food!

Cloudia: I was not done! “I wasn´t lying ‒ I found his footwork was as exquisite as the appetizers given out at this party. Fairly, the man who dared to call himself a cook and prepared these abnormalities should be hanged immediately. I had to speak with the host, Baron Charles Worthington, about this when everything was over.” That´s the whole passage! I compared Parrish´s footwork to terrible food! How can that be evidence that I was in love with him?

Cedric: You´re a strange person, Countess. Perhaps this was the nicest comparison someone like you could think of. Also, Parrish could be a masochist or something in that direction and thus actually like being compared to terrible food.

Cloudia: Why am I even talking to you?

Cedric: *ignores her* Besides, I have more evidence that you were seducing him, Countess! Listen: “However, I have to admit that I haven´t danced for quite a while now, and I´m totally exhausted and heated up due to this instance. May you accompany me outside to get some fresh air?” Am I right in my assumption that you have said these exact words in January 1847, Countess Cloudia Phantomhive?

Cloudia: What exactly is so seducing about these words?

Cedric: Answer my question, defendant!

Cloudia: First, I am not a defendant. Second, now answer mine or you will never get any of Armstrong´s sweets again.

Cedric: That´s just cruel. Also, it´s seducing because you were saying that that you were “heated up” and wanted to go outside with Parrish. Alone.

Cloudia: Have passage like “We walked down the street, and I listened to his boring chatter. He was speaking of his company all the time. But I had to play my role, so I stayed polite, smiled and laughed at the right times, even though I was scowling inside.” or “She met his eyes, while her face showed clear disgust.” become totally irrelevant now?

Cedric: Yes.

Cloudia: ... You´re not supposed to answer it.

Cedric: But I did because “yes” is the one and only correct answer to this question. Besides, you´re forgetting this: “Lord Ronan Parrish was the reason why I had come to this boring, dull party all the way from my comfortable, quiet and orderly mansion in the countryside.” I guess this case is closed now.

Cloudia: ... Parrish was the reason why I went there because I was ordered by the Queen to exterminate him!

Cedric: You mean she ordered you “to find and marry him”? You know how much of a shipper the Queen is. After all, she sent us both to Wales once. Also, I said that this case is closed, Countess. I, Judge Cedric Kristopher Rossdale, name defendant Countess Cloudia Phantomhive to be-

Cloudia: Objection! I stabbed Parrish! I murdered him! If I had been in love with him, why would I have stabbed him?

Cedric: Because you were so disgusted with the thought that someone was able to touch the softest part of your little dark heart that you killed him.

Cloudia: I can see why the other Reapers don´t like you.

Cedric: Once again: I, Judge Cedric Kristopher Rossdale, name defendant Countess Cloudia Phantomhive to be... guilty!

Cloudia: *sigh* Also, I don´t think that you can call Ronan Parrish a “poor man.” He maltreated children and let them die in his factories like they´re nothing.

Cedric: I know but what if even though he hated children, he loved animals and was one of the main donators for a little zoo which has to close now?

Cloudia: I don´t even know if you´re serious or not.

Cedric: He could have been a very nice person apart from this thing. But we will never know because you have erased him from earth!

Cloudia: *rolls her eyes* You´re being ridiculous, Undertaker.

Cedric: I am not! You´re just being insensitive! Ronan Parrish could have been the nicest guy on the entire planet ‒ who just happened to like mistreating children.

Cloudia: You really want to die, don´t you?

Cedric: I mean ‒ what if he had been framed? What if he knew nothing of these kids?

Cloudia: I checked all the evidence to make sure that it was really Parrish who was behind everything ‒ and he was. Now, leave me alone. *turns to the audience* I will break this off before Undertaker can continue behaving like a moron. *Cedric yells something in the back* I apologise for his behaviour. Apparently, his mother dropped him as a baby and thus his brain is a bit damaged. Let´s just hope that the (irresponsible) writer does not let him take over the story again.

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Ciel timeline chapters

This side fic (!) to WotQ had an actual title, but I'm holding on to it for now because maybe, maybe, really very maybe, I will revive this project. Not as extensively as I had planned initially, just something small and short (and this time, I would mean it!!). But that would only be for the far future. Until then, here's the first chapter from 2017. (I only wrote that, a bit of the 2nd, and a few snippets...)

Chapter One: The Gallery of the Dead

“There, Phantoms were trapped in drawings.”

INTO THE ABYSS ARC

Countryside, England, United Kingdom ‒ October 1889

It was awfully silent when Sieglinde Sullivan woke up. The darkness of the sky, when she glimpsed out of the window by her bed, told her that it was still night and day was not about to come in the next couple of hours.

Sighing, Sieglinde let herself fall back into her bed and hugged her blanket. She closed her eyes, but when sleep would not come, she turned and turned around in her bed, trying to find a position comfortable enough that she would fall asleep again, and ultimately kicking her blanket down. Accepting that she was unable to go back to sleep right now, Sieglinde grabbed her crutches and left her bedroom to take a walk in the spacious Phantomhive Manor.

During the day, the manor was filled with all kinds of noise: explosions coming from the kitchen, screaming, Ciel´s annoyed sighs, the sound of porcelain breaking, crying, Tanaka’s “Ho ho,” the sound of people hysterically running back and forth. During the day, Phantomhive Manor gleamed with life, but right now, the manor seemed to have died. The clattering of Sieglinde’s crutches pierced through this eerie silence.

It was hard to explore Phantomhive Manor during the day as someone would always bother you with something or as something would always come up which would distract you from your actual plans. But now, Sieglinde was able to enter rooms she had never seen before, and walk through corridors she had not known before. And, eventually, she entered one of the oddest rooms of all Phantomhive Manor.

The Gallery was located in the back area of the manor, an area nobody usually entered. But despite no light except the moonlight illuminating the room, Sieglinde was already captivated by the Gallery’s beauty: Chandeliers, more beautiful, more delicate and elegant than the chandeliers in the other rooms, hung from the ceiling. The ground was pitch black but the places which were touched by the light glittered, indicating that there was more to the blackness than initially thought. The faint white patterns on the pale golden walls shimmered silvery in the moonlight – and so did the hair of the boy standing all alone in this room.

Ciel Phantomhive seemed like a ghost in the way he stood unmoving in front of one of the many drawings – surreal and out of place –, and Sieglinde almost believed that she had simply imagined his presence, but when she closed and opened her eyes again, Ciel was still there.

Slowly, Sieglinde moved towards him, the sound of her crutches tearing at her ears. And while she walked, she glimpsed at some of the drawings – all of them bearing the sad, serious faces of people long dead and long forgotten.

When she reached Ciel´s side, she waited for him to move, to turn his face to her and say something, but when Ciel kept staring at the drawing in front of him like he was under a spell, Sieglinde positioned herself right next to him and did so as well.

The drawing showed three people: two men, and one woman. The woman was sitting on a chair which looked so regal that it could almost be called a throne, and the two men stood behind her – one left, one right. Even with this poor light quality, Sieglinde could clearly see the woman’s beauty. Her dark hair, her porcelain skin, her glowing eyes. The woman in the picture shone with confidence and strength, and the smile on her face reminded Sieglinde of one of Ciel’s vicious smiles. She was the centre of the picture, stole all attention from the two men in the background like a queen.

“Who is she?” Sieglinde whispered, not daring to speak louder.

“My grandmother – Cloudia Phantomhive,” Ciel answered after a long pause, and turned away from the drawing. “And now, let us get out of here.”

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Unrelated to WotQ but Cloudia/Undertaker stories:

Itamae Phantomhive

I was procrastinating from writing a chapter for WotQ (I cannot remember which one it was; I'm sure I was procrastinating from uni stuff too) by thinking of something idiotic (modern sushi shop AU: The Phantomhives run a sushi shop as a "front" to gather information. Their clientele are mainly criminals and shady people, and they don't know they're the Watchdog family. Only Cloudia can't cook for shit, so she just hires Tanaka when he comes to kill her). I wrote two chapters and a bit of the third and then I forced myself to pull the brakes and post the story on AO3. It stayed up for about 24h hours, got no or maybe one hit, and then I deleted it. From 2018.

Chapter One: Itadakimasu

After her father's death, Cloudia Phantomhive inherited the Watchdog duty—and the Phantomhive family's sushi restaurant. Unfortunately, she was only ever trained in the art of killing, not in the art of sushi.

Struggling to run the restaurant, not to accidentally poison her criminal clientele, and be accepted into the (criminal) culinary world, Cloudia finds fortune in the oddest of ways: through an assassination attempt.

The funeral parlour was dark and dusty when Cloudia Phantomhive stepped inside, and she already regretted choosing it just because it was so close to work. She closed the door behind her and turned on the lights – and a few weak lights looking like candles came to life, exposing rows of coffins, numerous skulls, loose bones lying around.

Well done, Cloudia, you have chosen the funeral parlour of a weirdo.

“Is anyone there?” Cloudia said but nobody replied and appeared. Instead, she heard laughter seemingly coming from everywhere, seemingly coming from one of the coffins.

Cloudia took a deep breath, cursing herself for not checking this place first and potentially endangering herself, before she pricked up her ears and knocked against the coffins to find out from which one the laughter was coming from. And when she finally found the right coffin, Cloudia tore it open and found the strangest looking man she had ever seen inside it. He had long grey hair which fell into his eyes, and he wore old-fashioned black clothes, which were too large for him, and a compatible hat.

“You found me!” he said and giggled, stepping out of the coffin and wandering around the room before sitting down on a large desk made of dark wood.

“You have to be the new Countess of Phantomhive,” said the man. “I have already awaited you.”

“Of course,” Cloudia replied. “We had an appointment after all.”

He grinned. “Please take a seat, Countess Phantomhive.”

She frowned. “And where?”

He gesticulated towards the coffins on the ground. “As you have checked them, you should know that they are empty. For now, at least.”

Cloudia sat down, and the man held an opened casket, from which bone-shaped biscuits reached out, out to her. “Do you want some, Countess Phantomhive?”

“No, thanks. And ‘Miss Phantomhive’ or even just ‘Cloudia’ is fine. You don’t have to be so awfully formal. After all, nobody really cares about old noble titles nowadays anyway – don’t you think so, Mr…?”

“Undertaker,” the man said.

“You’re an undertaker and your name is… Undertaker?”

Undertaker smiled. “Indeed.”

“I didn’t get a lot of sleep in the last week, so, please excuse me if I put this too bluntly, but are you shitting on me right now?”

“Of course, not, Countess Phantomhive,” he replied with no sarcasm in his voice. Cloudia wasn’t quite sure how she should feel about it.

Cloudia rubbed her eyes. “Very well, Mr Undertaker…”

“Just ‘Undertaker’ is enough.”

Then just ‘Cloudia’ should be as well. She sighed. “Very well, Undertaker. How are the preparations for my father’s funeral going?” she asked, clutching her hands together in her lap.

“Splendidly,” Undertaker answered, taking a bite off one of his biscuits. “As soon the late Earl is returned by the police, the funeral will be held.”

She took a deep breath. “No complications?”

“No.”

“No further questions?”

“No.”

Cloudia took another deep breath before taking her bag and standing up. “Then – it was nice to finally meet you, Undertaker.”

He put away the casket and tilted his head. “You came here just to ask a few questions you could have asked on the phone as well?”

I just had to go outside. “I just wanted to be here if you needed my help with anything,” Cloudia answered, smiling. “And now, I have to go again. Goodbye, Undertaker.”

***

London, just like every big city she guessed, was a noisy place. And even though it wasn’t her first time in London, Cloudia flinched when she stepped out of the funeral parlour and was met with all that noise. There were so many people, so many things to see – so much life, so much movement –, and Cloudia wondered when, if at all, she would get accustomed it. London was so much different than the little town by Phantomhive Manor where she grew up after all.

Cloudia put on her earphones to shut herself off the world a bit and kept on walking. Her mother, the last Countess of Phantomhive, had died when she had been very young, and instead of letting his daughter live with him at the family’s London townhouse, Cloudia’s father had decided that she was to continue living at Phantomhive Manor with only a few servants to look after her. It wasn’t because her father didn’t love her – it was because he had wanted to keep her away as much as possible from the world he frequented. He had wanted to protect her even if it meant that they could only see each other a couple of times a year. This had been the sacrifice he had made; this had been the sacrifice he had accepted.

And now, he was dead.

When Cloudia arrived, she took off the earphones, threw them into her bag, and counted from ten downwards before she unlocked the restaurant’s door.

The Phantomhives were a special family.

Cloudia didn’t know when it had started but for what seemed like forever, the Phantomhives served the British Crown as Watchdogs. They governed the Underworld – and just like everything neither the Underworld nor the methods to oversee stayed the same.

Cloudia still wondered why the old methods had evolved into this: A sushi restaurant frequented by criminals and run by the very person who would bring them down. A sushi restaurant whose basement was a technological Eldorado.

The restaurant was located in a place known for its criminal activity, and the whole reasoning behind this façade was that nobody ever suspected the quiet cook or the waiter wandering around like a ghost as long as nobody was poisoned. But even then, suspicion didn’t often fall on the waiter or the cook but on the person facing you. After all, it was easier albeit riskier to put the poison into the tea yourself instead of bribing the waiter or exchanging the cook, especially if it was a place whose employees were well-known to the Underworld and the Underworld was well-known to the employees too. And the “Funtom Tetra” was such a place. The criminals frequenting London, or even Great Britain as a whole, knew that the Phantomhives were running this place, knew who was working here. They also knew that the Phantomhives would never do anything to lose their clientele by doing something as foolish as taking a side and engaging in any underground wars or selling information. And they were right, but only partially – the Phantomhives didn’t take the side of a criminal but of the Crown; they didn’t engage in underground wars, they brought them to an end; they didn’t sell information, they only used it to cleverly take them down before presenting the truth to the Queen.

But why, of all things, a sushi restaurant? Cloudia had once asked her father that question, and the only answer he had been able to give had been a shrug.

With a sigh, Cloudia turned on the lights and locked the door behind her, leaning against it and letting her gaze wander through the restaurant. She had loved her father – she still did. She understood why he had let her grow up safe and sound at the manor. But now, he was dead, and the family duty was left to her.

And she had no idea how to run a sushi restaurant.

Ah, isn’t that every girl’s dream?

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Monsters of London

Another book series I like is Monsters of Verity. There are monsters in that book called Sunai that "collect" (or, rather, consume) souls after playing a melody, so I decided to replace the Grim Reapers' gardening tools with musical instruments too. I also thought of more monsters and decided to make Cloudia unable to walk, based on the meaning of her name: "lame, crippled." I actually still like this idea and think the prologue isn't that awfully written as the things above, but the fic is binned because I simply have no time. From 2018.

Prologue: Elegy

Countryside, England, United Kingdom – June 1838

Even after all those years, he was amazed how naturally the melody came to him when he hoisted the violin to his shoulder and touched the strings with the bow. He closed his eyes and let himself be fully absorbed by the song, swiftly moving the bow and adjusting his fingers on the strings. When he played, he felt completely calm and at ease. When he played, he felt complete. And every time, the song came to its end, he had to force himself not to start again, but to take down the bow, withdraw the violin from his shoulder, and open his eyes again to see what he had done.

Cedric Rosene had never been a man, had only ever been a monster wearing the face of one. When he played his melody, he could pretend to be what he only seemed to be, but when he opened his eyes, he was always confronted with what he was: A monster which lured souls out of bodies to collect them, to safely store them away before they were ready to go on.

His kind was called Sunai, but over the centuries, they had become better known as Grim Reapers in tales and legends.

Cedric knelt down next to the corpse whose soul had surfaced while he had played his song. Gently, he tapped his bow to the shining soul to collect it and start the Cinematic Record – a voiced-over record of the corpse’s life. When Cedric had collected a soul for the first time, his hands had shaken when he had taken up his violin and started his song. Of course, the melody had taken away his tension and the feeling of nausea, but they had returned the instance he had moved to hold the bow against the dead body. And afterwards, he had been plagued by what he did and what he saw of the person’s record. Back then, Cedric had been haunted at day and at night. Now, his bad thoughts were only woven into his dreams.

After he had finished, Cedric left the room and searched for more corpses to find, for more souls to claim. In the distance, he could hear the melodies of his fellow Reapers who had come with him to this place; even though they were far away, Cedric could still make out every note.

From what he had found out of the Cinematic Records, the lady of the household had fallen ill in the middle of April and had only managed to fight herself back to healthiness a few weeks ago. The sudden and drastic decrease in the mistress’ health had caused great panic and worry for her family and the other household members. Everyone had focused to nurse her out of this horrible state; nobody had even wasted a single thought on the Season which had begun shortly before she had become sick. However, after she had triumphed over the disease and returned to her former self, preparations had been started to move to London for the Season.

The preparations had included to send some servants ahead to their townhouse so that they could ready it for their master’s family. And then, someone had taken the current state of the manor – understaffed, hectic – to their advantage to sneak into it and silently murder everyone inside.

How sad, Cedric had thought after the first Cinematic Record had finished before his eyes. Such tragedy after such happiness.

He found his path through the manor, following the faint hum of souls resting beneath not-beating hearts and collecting each of them. Eventually, Cedric arrived in what seemed to be a salon. It must have been a stunning room, once upon a time, but now, part of the carpet and walls were stained with blood; now, part of the furniture laid knocked-over, sometimes even partially broken, on the ground. Glancing down at the maid’s and butler’s unmoving bodies, Cedric hoisted his violin back to his shoulders and began to play. He took the servants’ souls, but right before he left, he blinked at the wheelchair, sitting lonely but upright in the middle of the room. From what he had found out of the records, the daughter had been born with legs which would never carry her. The wheelchair was hers. When the first had noticed what was going on in the mansion, the butler and the maid had hurried to the salon to find the young lady, but they had only found the wheelchair. They hadn’t been able to search further for her.

Cedric tore his gaze away from the chair and scanned the room. A Sunai’s song made a person’s soul surface and glow, and this effect wasn’t limited to those dead or dying. He stilled when he saw a silver glow shining through the thin gap between the cupboard’s doors. The soul of a dying or dead person was always black, but the souls of the living could have every possible colour.

For a moment, Cedric played with the thought to open the cupboard and lift the girl out and back into the wheelchair. And, perhaps, he would have even done it – helping the girl, revealing himself to her against the rules – if one of his companions hadn’t called for him.

With one last glance at the cupboard, Cedric turned around and left the salon – following the notes hanging in the air to the others.

#bonus chapters #cloudia phantomhive #undertaker #8th anniversary nonsense!! #that's not all but many of the rest are either just ideas with nothing written at all #or very unfinished first chapters #for one I didn't even complete the first sentence yikes #hope you found some enjoyment in these very old pieces