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lackadaisycats · 1 year

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I tried to answer this succinctly, but it turned into an essay. (Sorry.)

The Princess and the Frog was not accurate, strictly speaking, but dinging it for that would be like criticizing the Lion King for not being a realistic wildlife documentary. Accuracy wasn't really the point. Given the fantastical elements and fictional nations like “Maldonia”, I suppose we're meant to understand this as a bit removed from the real New Orleans. It's more a a jazz-flavored fairy tale than a historical fiction.

But for discussion's sake....

Is it fashion-accurate to its 1926 timeframe? Ehhh, sort of. It pays homage to 20s fashion trends with cloche hats, furs and feathery headpieces, but without fully committing to it. The waistline on almost all of Tiana's clothing is too high for the 20s, and the the shapes of her fancier costumes take a lot of liberties, or deviate wildly from the style of the period.

In the 20s, dresses (including workaday stuff) tended to have a straight up-and-down shape to it - kind of a low-waisted rectangle that de-emphasized curves instead of highlighting them. There are valid reasons to play fast and loose with that, though (something I’m definitely guilty of as well). One of those reasons is communication.

For instance, speculatively, the filmmakers wrote Tiana as a hard-working waitress and wanted her to look the part, so they made the choice to clothe her in something familiar - that gingham dress of mid-century shape that we broadly associate with diner waitresses. Actual waitress uniforms of the 20s had a fair bit of overlap with maid uniforms at the time too, and I can see why they wouldn't want to risk the confusion. It's more important to communicate clearly with the larger audience than to appease a small faction of fashion nerds who'd notice or care about the precision.

I don't think it's a case of the designers failing to do their research - I'm sure they had piles of references, and maybe even consultants - but they also had to have priorities.

With her hat and coat on, she looks a lot more 1920s-shaped.

Pretty consistently, the indication of the characteristic 1920s drop waist is there, but the approach otherwise ignores the 20s silhouette. The clothes hug the body too much. This may be about appealing to a 2000s audience, visually speaking, but also could be an animation thing. Maybe both. For practical reasons, clothes in 2d animation are usually more a sort of second skin than something that wears or behaves like realistic fabric.

These are not in the 1920s ballpark at all. Tiana's blue gown looks like your basic Disney brand invention. Strapless things would have been extremely unusual and the overall shape is far out of step. Excusable, I guess, because it's a costume in context. Charlotte looks like she’s heading for a mimosa brunch in a modern maxi dress.

Charlotte's princess dress did seem to be calling back to the ultra-wide pannier side hoops of the 18th century - something that made a reappearance for part of the 20s, albeit in much milder form called robe de style. I'm not sure if the filmmakers were alluding to that at all, really, but either way, her dress is hilarious.

They only went about halfway with the cloche hats. The 1920s cloche really encapsulated the cranium, almost entirely covered bobbed hair, and obscured much of the face from certain angles, so it's easy to see why they've been somewhat reined in for the film. Still, it ends up looking more 1930s, where the hats started to recede away from the face, evolving in the direction of the pillbox.

Similarly, Tiana's hair is not very reminiscent of the bobbed, close-to-the-cranium style of the period, but I think that could legitimately be written off as characterization. She's not at all the type of person who'd fuss about going à la mode. Not everyone bobbed and finger-waved their hair.

The clothes Prince Naveen is introduced in are very 1920s collegiate in spirit - the wide-leg oxford bags, the sleeveless pullover sweater, the flat cap, and high, stiff collar. The ukulele and banjolele were pretty trendy instruments at the time too.

Definitely some Josephine Baker vibes here. Also, the look of this whole fantasy sequence was reportedly inspired by the works of Aaron Douglas, a luminary painter of the Harlem Renaissance known for his depictions of the lives of African-Americans. (The mural is in Topeka, Kansas.)

They pretty much nailed the Art Deco. It's gorgeous. Looks somewhat inspired by the interiors of some of the Ralph Walker-designed NYC architecture, plus some French Quarter balcony flair for the final manifestation of Tiana's Place. Her dress here does resemble some gauzy mid-1920s looks, too.

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Culturally speaking...

New Orleans is an unusual place. Because some of the colonial Spanish and French laws and conventions that New Orleans evolved under persisted even after its inception into the United States; because it was such a heterogeneous hub of indigenous and immigrant peoples; and because it had a considerable population of free people of color (mostly Creole), it did not function quite like the rest of the South leading up to the Civil War, nor for a while after. Its particular coalescence of cultures made it its own unique sort of culture within the country, within the region, within the state of Louisiana even. By the early 20th century, though, regardless of the not-very-binary nature of New Orleans, Jim Crow laws were enforcing a literal black-and-white distinction, and not an evenhanded one, by far. In that aspect, the city had begun to resemble the rest of the South.

The film nods at the wealth disparity, but goes on to paint a pretty rosy picture of race and class relations at the time. Still it's not unbelievable that some people were exceptions to the rules. You could probably find a few compartments of old New Orleans society that resisted segregation or certain prejudicial norms, preferring to do things their own way. That aside, the film wasn't trying to confront these topics. Not every piece of media should have to. Sometimes breaking away from miserable period piece stereotypes is refreshing. I'm not sure it could have handled that meaningfully given the running time, narrow story focus, and intended audience, anyhow. (But you could perhaps also make a case that family films habitually underestimate younger audiences in this way.)

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Raymond the firefly I guess is the film's Cajun representation. There's not much to say about it, except perhaps to note that Evangeline is a reference to the heroine of a Longfellow poem of the same name. The poem is an epic romance set during the expulsion of the Acadians from the eastern provinces of Canada and the northernmost reaches of the American colonies (now Maine) by the British in the mid-1700s. Many exiled Acadians gradually migrated south to francophone-friendly Louisiana, settling into the prairies and bayous, where 'Acadian' truncated into the pronunciation 'Cajun'. Evangeline - who is only finally reunited with her love when he’s on his deathbed - has become an emblem of the heartbreak, separation and faithful hope of that cultural history, and there are parishes, statues and other landmarks named after the her throughout Louisiana.

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Voodoo does have a very historical presence in New Orleans, having arrived both directly from West Africa and by way of the Haitian diaspora (where it would more properly be called Vodou). While I don't think Disney's treatment of it was especially sensitive or serious, it also wasn't the grotesquely off-base sort of thing that media of the past has been known to do. It was largely whittled down to a magical plot component, but it wasn't so fully repurposed that it didn't resemble Voodoo at all either - and that's mostly owing to the characters, because it does appear the writers pulled from history there.

It’s apparently widely held that Dr. Facilier is a Baron Samedi caricature - and likely that's true, in part - but I have the impression he's also influenced by Doctor John. Not the 20th century funk musician, but the antebellum “Voodoo King” of New Orleans. Doctor John (also called Bayou John, Jean La Ficelle, and other aliases) claimed to be a Senegalese prince. He became well known as a potion man and romance-focused prognosticator to people from all corners of society. Though highly celebrated and financially successful at his peak, he seems ultimately remembered as an exploitative villain.

To my recollection, the film sort of gingerly avoids referring to Facilier as a Voodoo practitioner directly (I think he's more generically called a witch doctor in the script?) but it does seem to imply his 'friends on the other side' are a consortium of loa. It's mostly abbreviated into nebulously evil-seeming special FX, glazing over any specificity or dimensionality, but it does also loop back around as a vehicle of moral justice. Loa are all very individualistic and multi-faceted, but they do have reciprocal rules for asking favors of them.

There's also the benevolent counterpart in Mama Odie's character. Her wearing ritual whites has a definite basis in Voodoo/Vodou practice, and her depiction as a fairy godmother-like figure isn't entirely out of step with how a mambo may have been perceived...in a very general sense. They were/are ceremonial leaders and community bastions who people would seek out for help, advice and spiritual guidance. More than just emanating matronly good vibes, though, some have wielded considerable political and economic power.

(Just my opinions here. I've done a lot of reading on the subject for research but I'm no authority with any special insider understanding of Voodoo, and I really shouldn't be relied upon as an arbiter of who has or hasn't done it justice in fiction.)

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In summary--

Culturally, I think the film is respectably informed but paints a superficially genteel picture. The set pieces are gorgeous, but the story mostly delivers a sort of veneer of New Orleanishness. And as for fashion, well, it’s the 1920s run through a Disney filter. It’s very pretty, but it’s only as proximally accurate as seemed practical.

I don’t know that any of that really matters so much as whether or not it achieved what it intended, though. As a charming yarn and as a tribute to New Orleans and the Jazz age, I think it’s mostly successful. It’s also really beautifully animated!

#princess and the frog #disney #1920s #new orleans #jazz #fashion #voodoo #vodou #history #animation #art deco

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thatbitchery · 4 months

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Unlearn the dumb idea that inflicted pain justifies your reaction to it. It doesn't. Ladies elite women make it because we have a level of stoicism that borders on sociopathic apathy, exhibit A: we don't react to triggers we mimosa, sleep, see if it's worth it then logically make decisions. The idea that when someone does you dirty you have the right to react based on emotions so you're angry mad throwing names & hands sending texts talking sheet & other loser girl things is dumb dumb. You're not justified to react. 'They did me wrong' . So? Sit down, watch Netflix, wait for the emotions to pass then use the head God so generously gave you + that pretty face bonus.

When you react to people doing you wrong you give them the permission to bypass their actions & focus on your reaction so if your bf cheats on you & you start screaming sending 1b texts making titktoks he can bypass his cheating & focus on you're immature you're abusive why did you hit me you're mentally unstable you throw things around bla bla & will never face what he did. When we say be non reactive we aren't asking you to be a stone we are asking you to be smart. Do you want to get manipulated? Abused? Sit down get a manicure & go for brunch. Run to your room scream cry anhiliate your pillow but when they're watching its Elsa Lite, froooozen ice queen don't let them in don't let them see, ever.

One tactic m3n use in divorce court is to get the lady so triggered she loses her cool then it's look at her could you live with that? I'm taking my child this is an abusive woman & men don't leave relationships they just trigger you into irrational behavior and use that as an excuse & crying is worse what did we say about public vulnerability? Go cry to your bestie and God in your house out here tears are a sign to bully you. When you're not reactive you throw THEM out of balance and you hold the cards, once you go 'right to my opinion I'm the victim' we'll find you a grave bc that's called social suicideeee.

Two friends. Real life story here, ladies. Ah high-school back in the good old days.

We call them Allie and Sara. High school circles were tight so you're friends with someone you're also friends with their bfs, right? Alice & Sara both got cheated on (by m3n looking like area 9 failed experiment Shrek cosplayers but that's not thepoint). The bfs know that they were discovered. Allie, Allie is that girl. Drama girl. Find him in cafeteria & make a scene girl. How could you cheat on me you suck your pp is short anyway bla bla watch me devalue myself. Allie feels good in the moment, her bf leaves and tell his friends of course i cheated that girl is crazy. Would you date someone like her? So immature. Women are so ovarical I can't handle it. Evening the story is- she was abusive. She hit him & threw words in public imagine in private? He's been protecting her in silence, you know women can be abusive too.

Sara, Sara my love. Sara sits next to her Shrek Lite boy and says hey so that girl you kissed, Jane was it? She's pretty. You have taste. End of story. After lunch her Human experiment failure boy says let's talk she says sure abd listens with 'mhm' and nods. She meant nothing babe she seduced me I'm an adolescent what can I do bla bla. She nods says okay and goes to class. Days goes as usual. Evening we get dinner , Weekend we do research for our papers & talk college. Is she talking to him? Yes. Painfully polite, painfully. No emojis no nothing just shallow dry polite texts. Let's talk about this babe- is left on blue ticks. Monday morning her factory reject lookalike is losing his mind, she's being painfully polite, in a shallow way, so he resorts to triggering. It's because you're like this you are like a man and I'm straight I need a woman bla bla. She says OK then turns to the next person & did you hear about the trip to the beach? Of course I'm going. Boy realizes that's not working & resorts to Allie behavior- throw a tantrum in public make yourself the victim why won't you give me the pleasure of being the one to push you to your edge? Sara says babe pull yourself together you're embarrassing your family. Do you need your anxiety meds? My therapist is good she can treat hysteria are you okay? No this isn't like you, this is hysteria babe do you need psychological help? No this isn't normal , hey do you guys think it's normal to do this? I'm calling your mom babe we are getting you a mental check hold up-

Heres a little secret. In private? In our dorms? Sara was BAWLING her eyes out. Chocolates & Styrofoam cups. We are talking 3am on the bathroom floor. In public?

Guess who won.

Unlearn the idea that you're entitled to reacting to others actions to you, you're not. Learn to hold your tongue and tears and smile and Elsa don't let then in don't let them see then call mom and spend the rest of the week in her arms crying. The amount of women I've seen triggered out of their jobs, marriages, houses, parenting &c when they were 10000% the victim from lack of emotional intelligence is unforgivable.

Dont, be dumb. Don't let yourself think you have the freedom of expression, you don't. Not in the way you want to. Go write a poem but remember everything you say can and will, in fact, be used against you.

Non reaction is the highest level of power in existence. Mind over body. Logic over emotion.

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mendeshoney · 7 months

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if you're still interested writing from the drunken confession prompt can you pls do "I can't wait for the room to stop spinning, so I can focus on your face again." With barzy but with the reader being the drunken one pls 😭

3.) "I can't wait for the room to stop spinning, so I can focus on your face again." with Mathew Barzal

"What the hell, Sydney?" Mat practically barks out, his hands shooting forward so he can steady you when Sydney all but dumps you into his arms.

You're absolutely wasted.

And it's not even one in the afternoon.

Sydney rolls her eyes, and from behind her, Mat can see her husband and his teammate, Marty, rolling his own eyes at his wife's lack of coordination. "Will you relax? She's fiiiiine!"

At Sydney's tone, and your sudden lack off coordination, Mat frowns, tightening his grip to keep you upright. "You two said you were going for brunch."

His tone is slightly accusatory, and it makes you scrunch your nose up in dissatisfaction. "We did!" You all but whine, and Marty sighs from his doorway.

"They went to that one café with the bottomless mimosas." Marty explains, barely breaking a sweat as he helps to keep his wife standing.

"They were amaaazing!" Sydney gushes, and you giggle from within his embrace.

"Sooo delicious!" You agree, and Marty sighs.

"She's been fine since I picked her up," his teammate tells him, "No nausea or sickness or anything, but I brought her straight home before these two could start brunch hopping."

Mat nods, letting out a small breath as he glances down at you, an amused smile crossing his lips when he finds you already looking at him with those big, beautiful eyes of yours and a toothy grin.

"Thanks man," Mat says, quickly shaking his teammates hand before pointing a finger at his wife. "And you! No more brunch."

Sydney whines a little more as Marty drags his wife back towards their car. Mat shuts the door behind him, turning to you and laughing a little when he finds you're still looking at him with that same grin.

"How are you feeling, princess?" He asks softly, brushing some hair out of your face.

You shrug, eyelids blinking slowly at his face. "Fine," you say, then frown a little, "A bit dizzy, I think."

Mat frowns now too, carefully putting one arm behind your back and the other behind your knees before lifting you bridal style. "Let's get you some water then."

"Mkay," you say dismissively, humming quietly to yourself as Mat walks you both toward the kitchen. He can feel your eyes glued to his face as he goes, and he hides the smirk threatening to cross his face.

He places you on top of the kitchen island, careful as he steps back, and he sees you blink at him, smiling, before your eyes blow wide and then squeeze shut, your body swaying a little.

"Whoa there," he says, placing his hands on either side of your face, steadying you, watching as your eyes do that slow blinking thing again. "Are you okay?"

"Mhm," you say, eyes still shut. "A little bit more dizzy."

"From me carrying you?" He assumes.

You try to shake your head, but Mat's hands keep you still. "Dunno baby."

"How many mimosas did you have?" He asks through a laugh, thumbs rubbing gently at your cheek bones.

"Can't count now, baby," you say, "trying not to be dizzy."

"I'm sorry princess," he says, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I didn't mean to make it worse."

Your mouth opens like you're going to say something, but then it closes again, and your mouth forms a little pout, and he swears he can start to see tears beginning to coat your lashes.

He presses forward, hands still steady and holding your face. "Baby? What's wrong?"

"Too dizzy to open my eyes, room's spinning," your voice wobbles the way it does when you're about to start crying, and Mat can feel himself start to panic.

"Do you want water?" He asks, "I can get you water but I'd have to move to the sink."

"No, I don't want that." You pout more, and Mat's heart starts to fracture.

He presses another kiss to your forehead. "What do you want then?"

"Wanna look at your face."

It's quiet for a second, and then your words click in his head, and Mat starts to laugh. "What?"

"Wanna see you," you explain. "But I'm worried if I open my eyes, I won't be."

"Cause you're too dizzy?" He manages to ask through his chuckling.

You nod slowly, and then the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes start to disappear, and a small, pleased smile crosses your lips, posture straightening a little.

"I can't wait for the room to stop spinning, so I can focus on your face again." You declare happily.

It only makes him laugh more, and he presses his palms into your cheeks a little, delighting in the way they squish a little and your mouth exaggerates the pout that forms.

"Why do you want to see my face?" He asks playfully.

"S' pretty," you manage to say through the squish. "And I love it, love you."

"I love you too, princess." Mat punctuates his statement with a kiss to your squished up lips, then slowly lowers his hands from your face to your shoulders. "Now, how about that water? And some Advil. Definitely Advil."

#mathew barzal #mat barzal #mathew barzal x reader #mat barzal x reader #writing challenge #mendeshoney masterlist

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xjustakay · 4 months

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✺ (1/4) ✺ @jegulus-microfic prompt: switch — 765 words (mild nsfw, trans Reg; inappropriate secret activities at the brunch table)

James is pushing his luck at this point, and he knows it. Can’t help it, really. The heat in Regulus’ cheeks never fully gets the chance to fade, no matter how long a break he gives him, and it’s worth it. Fuck, it’s so worth it. He’ll deal with whatever turnaround he’s got coming to him later, because this? Oh, James is riding this high for as long as he fucking can.

The tiny little remote sits in the curl of his palm, tucked beneath the brunch table. It weighs less than his phone, about as big as his thumb, at best, and yet the power he wields with it is otherworldly.

A small red switch that clicks on and off, a plus button and a minus button beneath it to control the intensity of vibrations —it’s all he really needs. He’s been messing with it in starts and stops for the last hour, knowing full well that while he absently fidgets with the buttons and switch, Regulus is squirming one seat down across the table, absolutely ruining that vibrating g-string James got him for Christmas.

It’s been a little while since James last clicked it on, giving Regulus the opportunity to eat his food without the threat of accidentally inhaling a bit of french toast and truly calling more attention to himself —James is courteous like that. Now that they’ve all settled into chatting over coffee and mimosas, winding down after finishing up their meals, though, it feels like as good a time as any.

The setting was left on the lowest it could be last he turned the switch off, but James still doesn’t miss the way that Regulus flinches out of the corner of his eye when he clicks it back on again now, not expecting it after the extended reprieve. James glances away from where Sirius and Remus are chattering back and forth about wedding details to where Regulus sits between Barty and Dorcas.

He’s not even a little surprised to find a glare already fixed on him.

Feigning innocence, James pulls his lip between his teeth, bats his eyelashes. Presses the plus button three times in rapid succession. It’s too much too quickly when James knows that Regulus is already oversensitive, undoubtedly uncomfortably slick and swollen where he rubs his thighs together and shifts in his chair for some modicum of relief from the teasing his clit’s been subjected to since they sat down.

Another click of the plus button and Regulus’ hand comes down on the edge of the table harshly, rattling glasses and silverware, grip white-knuckled. Dorcas startles out of her conversation with Lily and Pandora across the table to look at him in concern but Regulus only waves her off with his free hand. Sirius’ head whips in his brother’s direction, dark brows pinching together when he catches the flush burning in Regulus’ cheeks, spilling over the edges of sharp jawline and down the sides of his neck.

“Alright, Reggie?” He calls.

“I’m fine,” Regulus hisses through his teeth. He catches his own strained tone and lets out a vaguely hysterical sounding laugh, making a rushed grab for the last of his mimosa in front of him. He downs the couple gulps in a hurry then breathes in deeply through his nose. “Another round?”

Sirius, bless him, thinks nothing of it, merely agrees and waves down their waitress —Regulus doesn’t drink in excess often, this could just be written off as a little too much too early in the day, weird as it may seem. No reason to suspect anything nefarious is going on anyway. Not like Regulus and James are running about advertising the things they get up to. Even though all of their friends know they’re together and have a bad habit of making that fact everyone else’s problem in some way or another.

Barty snorts beside Regulus, straight across the table from James, and catches his eye; doesn’t seem to miss a thing, Barty Crouch Jr., no matter how often he leads others to believe he does. He looks back at James with one brow arched upward, dark eyes dangerously knowing, lips quirked at the edges where he sips at a glass that’s straight champagne more than a mixed drink.

“Buzzing this morning, aren’t we, Reg?” Barty mutters, just loud enough for the two people it’s intended for.

James clicks the remote’s switch back to off instantly. Despite the soft whimper that escapes past Regulus’ clenched teeth, there’s still a positively murderous glower shot James’ way.

Oh, he is so fucked later. James can’t wait.

#jegulus #starchaser #sunseeker #jegulus microfic #heyyy haven't written one of these in a hot minute what's up #“kay it's barely after midnight” look i got excited #hated seeing all the trans reg hate so i did a little baby thing with him. plan on doing some more later.#good luck being rancid at all about it bc anons are still off here :) :)#anyway i love them. so much.#the little shits (affectionate)#kay’s writing #kay’s microfics

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babydollmarauders · 1 year

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KARMA— JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

part of the Midnights Fic List

summary: in which y/n’s ex-best friend has been gossiping behind y/n’s back saying that Jack should be with her instead, so y/n shows that karma goes both ways.

specific lyrics: “you’re talking shit, for the hell of it. addicted to betrayal.” and “ask me what i learned from all those years. ask me what i earned from all those tears.” and “karma is my boyfriend, karma is a god, karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend, karma’s a relaxing thought”

warnings: toxic friendship mentions, light profanity

notes: this is pretty short, i didn’t feel like this one should be too long, i wanted it to be pretty simple just like the song

“did you hear about what Carley said last week?” i hear as soon as i sit down in my seat at brunch.

“no.” i shake my head. “what did she say now?”

“she was out with her friends, and Nicole and Jesper were sat by her at the restaurant; overheard her saying that Jack should be with her instead of you. apparently she’s convinced that he’s only pitying you and she deserves him because she’s ‘richer, prettier, and has more followers’.” Ryleigh says. “what a bitch! i can’t believe you were ever friends with her.“

“karma is a bitch, it’ll get to her one day.” i shrug. “she wasn’t much different when we were friends. claimed i ‘stole’ Jack from her because ‘she saw him first’, but he and i had already been dating by the time she saw him. we just hadn’t been public yet.”

“but, you’re literally the sweetest person i’ve ever met. i’m just saying, i don’t understand how you could’ve been friends with her for so long.” Darya chimes in, setting her mimosa down in front of her.

“i was friends with her since we were ten, she’s always been this way. a lot of my tears were from her hand. she insisted she would do things in the name of friendship and ‘bettering me’, but eventually, i learned that she was just a horrible person and i should stop excusing her actions. as i said, karma will get to her eventually.” i explain as i scan the menu in front of me. i know how Carley is. it doesn’t exactly surprise me that she’s talking bad about me, she used to do it even while we were friends.

“well, karma isn’t coming fast enough. that girl needs to be humbled soon.” Ryleigh exclaims and Darya nods in agreement. before i can respond, the waiter comes to take our orders and the subject changes.

i’m sat in glass seats at a Devils home game, waiting for them to come out for warmups. i switch between glass seats and the WAGS box every few games. i like hanging out with the girls but, i love to see the smile on Jack’s face when the Devils score. especially when he scores and he gets to look over at me and see that i watched and that i’m cheering for him. it’s not too long before warmups start that someone sits at the end of my row, and i look over to see Carley and one of her friends. i choose to ignore her and the looks i know she’s giving me. i have a right to be here, and she’s allowed to come to a game if she wants, i don’t control that. it’s when the warmups start that i have a problem with her. i’m looking down at my phone, texting Ryleigh when Jack skates by, banging a hand on the glass in front of me to get my attention. i startle, jumping in my seat and dropping my phone, and he laughs.

“hi baby!” i immediately recognize the voice yelling down the row. i look over to see Carley staring straight at Jack as he skates past her. he turns around, skating backwards and giving her a weird look before looking at me with a ‘what the fuck?’ face. i shrug my shoulders. what possessed her to make her think that calling my boyfriend ‘baby’ is okay?

i let the comment roll off my back, it’s whatever. i know that Jack has tons of fans, he’s talented, he’s hot, he’s sweet, he’s a total package, i get it.

“score a goal for me tonight, babe!” i hear her call out. that’s when my problem starts. and my anger only increases after warmups, when i overhear her talking to her friend. “eventually, he’s gonna realize how much better he can do than y/n. and i’ll be there with open arms when he does.”

i remind myself to stay in my seat. i’ve turned a blind eye to her glares, i’ve let her gossiping fall on deaf ears instead of making a scene or causing drama, and i know it’ll be worth it in the end. i was raised to remember that karma is a powerful thing, and that it goes both ways. you do bad things, something will knock you down a peg. you do good things, you’ll have good luck. it’s common sense. but apparently she didn’t get the message.

“babe, come look at this!” Jack calls to me from our bed. it’s officially the off season and Jack and i have been at the Hughes lake house for the past couple days. it’s been nice being surrounded by his family and even a few of our friends.

“what’s up, love?” i ask, walking out of the closet where i was picking out a cover up to wear out on the boat. i slip the sundress i chose over my head and pull it down over my bikini.

“come see what Bratter just sent me.” i flop myself down on the bed next to him, laying on my side and cuddling into him, an arm wrapping around his torso. he tilts his phone screen towards me and i read the text that Jesper sent him.

—

From: Jesper Bratt

took Nicole out to lunch and she pointed out a girl that she said is obsessed with you. said her name was Carley. heard her talking to someone, saying you guys were destined to be together 😂 even heard her say that y/n isn’t good enough for you? does this girl have nothing better to do?

—

“she really just won’t stop, will she?” my question is rhetorical but Jack answers anyways.

“she’ll get the message soon enough. i don’t want her.” his words make me furrow my brows but i nod anyways. “you ready to head out?”

“yeah, let’s go.” we stand from the bed, making our way out of the bedroom and down the stairs, meeting the others in the living room before heading down to the dock and onto the boat. i sit and watch as all the guys take turns wakesurfing, choosing not to participate and instead enjoying the summer evening air.

“babe! babe, c’mere!” Jack calls from the back of the boat, where he’s currently wakesurfing. i stand, walking over and bending over the back of the boat so i can hear him.

“look at you, superstar!” i chime, grinning at him. he laughs and shakes his head.

“no, i wanted to say that i wanna take you on a walk around the lake when we get back.” i admire his smile for a few moments, just nodding in response and watching his face all lit up with joy. this man makes me so happy.

i keep myself rooted in that spot until he decides he’s done and gets back on the boat, letting Luke take his place. he looks at me with a wicked grin and i know exactly what he’s planning to do, but the boat is only so big and he catches me quite easily. pulling me to him, getting me wet with the cold water dripping from his hair and body. i shiver and let out a squeal; halfheartedly attempting to push him away. i feel my feet lift off the ground as Jack moves over to the bench seats, sitting down and pulling me onto his lap.

“now my cover up is all wet!” i feign a pout, but all he does is laugh, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of my nose.

“i’ll make it up to you. promise.” he squeezes me tighter to his chest and i shuffle down in order to lay my head on his chest, getting the side of my face wet in the process, but i don’t care. “i love you.”

“i love you too.” i smile, turning my head slightly to lay a kiss on his chest.

when we park back at the dock, Jack lets the guys know we’ll be back up to the house soon and pulls his hoodie over his head. he slings one arm around my shoulders, holding me to his side, and sticks his free hand in his hoodie pocket. we continue to walk along the lakeside in silence, just enjoying the last moments of sunset and the sounds of nature. i stop Jack a few times in order to point out pretty birds or various other beautiful nature moments. i let go of him once more, stepping closer to the water and letting him fall behind me.

“Jack, look at the way the sunset is reflecting off the lake! it’s gorgeous.” i turn to look back at him, checking to see i have his attention, but when i catch sight of him, one knee on the ground with a ring box opened in his hands and a watery smile on his face, my hands fly up to my mouth.

“y/n, i texted Quinn right after i met you, telling him i just met the love of my life. at the time, i thought maybe i was over exaggerating, but then i got to know you, and i knew i wasn’t. these past two and a half years with you have been the best of my life, and i was hoping you’ll choose to continue that. y/f/n, will you marry me?” his voice wavers, laced with emotion, and tears spring to my eyes.

“yes. god, yes! a million times yes!” i exclaim and he takes my hand, slipping the ring in my finger as he stands and i pull him into a kiss. my hands hold his face to mine and he grips my hips. pulling away, i wipe the tears from his cheeks and then mine. “i love you so much.”

“i love you so much more, pretty girl.”

—

@itsmey/n just posted

Liked by @_quinnhughes and 26,372 others

@itsmey/n summer nights 🤍

karma is so good to me

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@user1 THEY’RE ENGAGED?! THIS IS SO EXCITING

@_quinnhughes congrats guys! welcome to the family y/n

@itsmey/n thank you huggy!

@user2 OMG!

@jackhughes my forever girl ❤️💍

@itsmey/n so grateful for you

@trevorzegras congrats you two! happy for you guys!

@itsmey/n thank you, z! better clear some time from your summer golfing schedule next year!

#jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nj devils #faithlynn’s writings <3 #midnights fic list #babydollmarauders

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year

Text

The Asgardian Way

Pairing: Thor Odinson x Reader

Warnings: fluff, pining, cursing

Word Count: 3,072

Summary: When a human hits puberty they get the name of their soulmate written on their wrist. You got the name of a mythological figure and assumed it meant his parents were real big fans of Norse legend. Then aliens fell out of the sky and everything changed.

“Oh, I win this. Hands down.” The girl sitting across the table from you said between bites of her food. It was Saturday morning, which meant brunch with the work crew, and the name of the game was, ‘Who had the weirdest name written on their wrist?’. You were still relatively new, having worked there a couple months now, but the girl across from you had started only a week ago. She held her wrist out, “Robert McDick. McDick. You know this boy got bullied in middle school.”

The table burst out into a round of laughter, and you couldn’t help but shake your head. When it quieted down, you brought attention to yourself, “Actually…”

“Oh, come on.” Hanna, the secretary to your left, chuckled, “She’s gonna be Mrs. McDick one day. You gotta let her have this.”

Joni, your boss’ personal assistant, raised her hand curiously, “You know what, I’m realizing that…you’ve never shown us your name.”

“Because it’s bad.” You chuckled.

“Worse than McDick?!” The girl cried in shock.

You pulled up your sleeve and held your wrist out for the table to see. Everyone leaned in eagerly to see the train wreck that was your soulmate’s name. Hanna narrowed her dark eyes as if she was second guessing what her eyes were seeing, “Does your wrist say… Thor Odinson? Like the fake Norse god dude?”

“Yes. Yes, it does.” You replied with a tight smile. “I assume this means his parents were just super big fans of Norse mythology? Or maybe it’s a common name amongst Scandinavians. I don’t know a lot about over there.”

“You better learn quick because apparently you’ll be Mrs. Scandinavian.” Joni snickered and the others laughed at that as well. The joke wasn’t very clever, you had heard better growing up with this name on your wrist, but enough mimosas had been passed around that everything was deemed funny enough to laugh at.

The conversation drifted back to work drama and you glanced down at your wrist again. The moment it showed up on your wrist at the start of puberty you and your entire family had been thoroughly confused. It definitely pushed you to read up on all that mythology as a kid and you had to admit, if someone was going to be named after a god there seemed no better god to be named after than Thor. He was the god of thunder, lightning, and strength and the fictional character had quite the list of accomplishments.

“Hey, do—do you guys see that?”

You turned in your seat to see what the new girl was pointing at. In the distance, over what looked like Stark Tower, was a bright blue light shooting straight up into the sky. You narrowed your eyes wondering what the hell the billionaire genius was up to now, but the line of thought died as some sort of creature flew out of the spot where the light seemed to end.

“Oh my God!” Someone screamed and you pushed up from your seat in shock as more things poured out of the sky. The first sounds of destruction filled the air, gunfire, explosions, and screaming, and as the crowd around you began to panic you came to the realization that the world would never be the same again.

37 DAYS AFTER THE BATTLE OF NEW YORK

Your eyes were glued to the television screen while you used a ruler to try and scratch a spot under the cast around your leg. It was supposed to come off two weeks ago, but apparently the break had been worse than doctors initially thought so you were stuck in this damn thing for longer. Hopefully, it’d be off by the end of the week.

“Stop with the ruler, idiot.” Your temporary roommate, Jihyun, slapped the back of your head as they walked by. She was still in her pajamas despite it being past noon, but the building she worked in, just like her own apartment, had been decimated by aliens a little over a month ago so…

“It’s itchy.” You whined without letting your eyes drift from the news channel that was still talking about the Battle of New York. You weren’t entirely sure why they called it a battle. It was more an invasion that New York barely managed to survive. If it weren’t for the Avengers then New York City would be a crater in the ground.

Speaking of the Avengers…

“Are you still stalking your soulmate?” Jihyun came back in the room with her phone. Her dark hair was a mess around her shoulders and her dark eyes were definitely sort of judging you.

“It’s not stalking.” You mumbled.

The Avengers were a group of superheroes, because that was apparently a real-world thing now, and they consisted of six special people. Iron Man, aka the infamous billionaire playboy, two mysterious agents of some organization, the media was still speculating on them, Bruce Banner, who was a doctor and could also apparently turn fucking green, Captain America, who was apparently not dead, and then of course there was the Norse god who was apparently very, very real.

Thor. Thor Odinson. The god of thunder, lightning, and strength. Your motherfucking soulmate.

To be honest, you weren’t sure how on a day where aliens invaded Earth, the biggest surprise you faced was that the name on your wrist had been very literal. It left you in the weird position where you knew who your soulmate was exactly, but you had no way to reach him? Thor Odinson had left the world, if the interviews with Tony Stark were accurate, and you didn’t think an email would reach him out there.

“So, what’s the plan?” Jihyun asked.

“Very good question.” You sighed and went back to trying to scratch your leg with the ruler in your hand.

402 DAYS AFTER THE BATTLE OF NEW YORK

The next time Thor popped up on the news was the next year. He was in London fighting some other wild thing. Elves? The media definitely used the word elves a lot. It happened so fast that you didn’t even know how to react. By time you heard about it, the next thing you were hearing was that he was gone again. You found yourself actually disappointed.

Early on when you discovered he existed you spent a lot of time in self-doubt. Thor was a god. Literally, not figuratively. You felt comfortable in your skin, but you were very aware that you were human. You were human and technically he was not. What if he didn’t even see humans as like the same as himself? What if humans were the equivalent of like a pet dog?

You didn’t know anything about gods.

When you moved past the ‘does he even see humans as equals’ fear, you moved onto the ‘does he even have a soul mark’ fear. Thor was a god from another world. Humans were given the name of their soulmate on their wrist during puberty, but what if that was just unique to Earth? For all you knew, his kind didn’t even believe in soulmates. Then what?

The worst part of not getting to meet Thor was the not knowing. It left you with a lot of overthinking which was never good for anybody. You were on the fence on whether or not you should try to email someone like Tony Stark. A part of you figured the email wouldn’t ever even get to him.

The world was saved again, but your soulmate was gone as quick as he came.

1132 DAYS AFTER THE BATTLE OF NEW YORK

Three years had passed from the moment you found out your soulmate was a real person. All the fears you had, all the worries, concerns, reservations, were pushed to the side. Somewhere around year two you had fallen into the ‘fuck it’ mentality. You were not going to be one of those people who never met their soulmate. You refused. So you made it your actual mission in life to get an audience with the god whatever it took.

You sent an email to Tony Stark that, like you assumed, was ignored.

You traveled out to places you knew he had been before in hopes to meet someone that knew him. That’s how you met a woman named Darcy, who was super great and you still texted here every once in a while, but she had no way to get in contact with Thor. She said he kind of came and went whenever he wanted.

You tried and tried and tried, and everything came up as a failure.

Until today that is.

Thor was on Earth, there had been sightings of him, and you knew he would be at a party being hosted by Tony Stark in the tower. The party was Avengers, Avengers families and friends, and then a local Veterans group. Unsurprisingly, you didn’t get an invite, but you did know someone who worked for Stark Industries as an intern and she said her badge would get you to where you wanted to be.

That’s how your night was going. You were standing in an elevator, rising up the skyscraper that was Avengers Tower, wearing an outfit that filled you to the brim with confidence. You literally went out and bought an entire new outfit for tonight in hopes that it would make you brave enough to follow through on the plan and hopefully hot enough to make you stand out.

When the elevators opened, a wall of music and laughter hit you. You slid the badge into your purse and hesitantly stepped out. Nearby eyes looked over at you, but you were dressed nice enough that they assumed you were part of the party. Swallowing the lump that had suddenly formed in your throat, you readjusted your clothes and made a beeline for the bar. From there you could look for your soulmate while also maybe taking 3 or 4 shots. Maybe 7. You hadn’t decided yet.

The bartender gave you a bright smile and you quickly ordered your favorite shot. You threw two back before turning around and scanning the room. Avengers Tower was as elaborate and amazing as you assumed it would be. The room was made up of multiple levels and people mingled on every single one. You could see Captain America by the pool tables. Tony Stark was entertaining a crowd of people around him. Bruce Banner was a few steps away talking to a smaller group of people and—

Thor. There he was.

He was sitting on a couch and the way he moved his arms made you think he was telling a story of some kind. His long hair was pulled back into a low ponytail and he had on a form fitting red coat that draped past his hips. Thor was… wow. You had seen pictures of him, seen him on the news, and so you knew he was a good-looking guy. That shouldn’t have been a surprise but seeing him in person was different.

You turned around and asked for one more shot. The bartender gave you a curious look but was quick about it. All this time you had pictured various things you’d say, different ways you’d greet him, but none of them seemed right anymore. With your hands on the bar, you closed your eyes and took in a slow breath like a crazy person. The bartender was without a doubt definitely judging you now, but you had bigger issues at the moment.

When you turned back around it seemed like fate was throwing you a bone. Thor had risen from the couch with a bright smile and said a few more words before moving away from the couch. This was it. This was your chance. You grabbed that ‘fuck it’ motto and pushed off the bar to walk in his direction.

You were a couple feet away when he turned his head and noticed you. Don’t get lost in his eyes. Don’t get lost in his eyes. Thor must have realized your path was leading you right to him because he stopped and offered you a curious smile.

“Hi.” You blurted when you stopped in front of him.

“Hello?” Thor replied. God, you could listen to his voice all day.

“This might sound rehearsed and a little crazy, but I’ve kind of been thinking about this moment for the past three years so I apologize in advance.” The words fell out of your mouth and you were too stunned to even be embarrassed by it. Thor raised an eyebrow at you, and it only made you panic more, “You’re…you. I…”

Thor gave you a polite smile, “Have we met before, my lady?”

“I’m your soulmate.” You blurted. Thor’s smile fell and his eyes widened. If he didn’t think you were insane before then he definitely did now. He opened his mouth, and you held your wrist out for him to see. Thor’s mouth snapped close, and his eyes stared down at your wrist. Thor reached out to lightly hold your hand in both of his. His gaze stayed on his name, but yours were now able to see his wrists from the way he held your hand.

His very bare wrists.

You felt your heart drop to your stomach, and you pulled your hand back quick, startling him, “You don’t… Your wrists are…” Your mouth felt dry and a part of you just prayed the floor beneath you would open up and swallow you whole. “I have to go, I’m sorry.”

Without waiting for a reply, you spun on your heel with full intentions to sprint out of this penthouse everyone else be damned. You’d be the weird girl running out a party for half a minute and then they’d never see you again. Your plan failed before it even began though because you only got three steps away until a hot hand grabbed your wrist and stopped you.

Thor spun you back around, but the moment you were facing him again he let go of you and held his hands up, “I apologize. It was not my intentions you grab you like that, but I’d very much appreciate it if you stayed for just a moment.”

“Dude, I kind of feel like my world is imploding.” You replied back quickly. “I just want to drink in shady bar alone right now.”

Thor chuckled, but his smile looked hesitant, “May I ask you for your name?”

You mumbled it out and tried to look for an escape route. What were the chances of you successfully fleeing from a god? They couldn’t be good.

Thor repeated your name and it sounded so good in his voice that you wanted to cry. He held one hand out to you, “I am Thor Odinson, though…I guess you are aware of that.” He chuckled and he almost seemed nervous. “May I see your hand once more?”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Why was this moment not ending? Unfortunately, though, looking into his gorgeous blue eyes, you realized it might be physically possible for you to tell this man no. You nodded once and held your hand up for him.

Thor took it into his again, holding it delicately, and gave you a tight smile, “I am going to bring your hand to my chest now.”

“You’re going to what now?” You replied in surprise. He brought your hand to his chest and if you weren’t in shock enough then your brain definitely broke the moment he slipped your hand under the collar of his black, v-neck shirt so you were touching the bare skin on the left side of his chest, “Uh…”

His skin was warm, and if this was anyone else you would’ve punched him by now. The spot under your fingers grew hotter for a moment and you stiffened in surprise. Thor realized your hand, in his own state of shock, and your hand just hovered in the air between the two of you. He took in a shaky breath and pulled the collar of his shirt to the side so you could see his skin.

On his left pec, a few inches under his collarbone, you watched as glowing red symbols began to form on his tan skin. The symbols were Norse, you recognized the shapes from all the research you had done over the years, and slowly the glow faded away to leave black marks there. You lifted your eyes from the spot up to his eyes and found him already staring at you with a soft look on his features.

“Wh—What was that?” You asked, your voice a whisper.

“Asgardians do not have the name of our soulmates on our wrists.” Thor replied. He took a step closer, and you couldn’t help but suck in a sharp breath at the motion. “This is our legend. How we find our soulmate.”

Your eyes widened as you motioned between the two of you, “So we are…?”

Thor grinned, his hands lightly reaching out to touch your arms, “Yes. Yes, we are.”

“Cool, cool, cool. Not to sound any crazier than I probably already have, or potentially insult Asgardian culture by skipping steps, but, uh, I’ve been picturing this moment for a while and I’m just gonna ask it.” Your own lips curled up into a broad smile that you couldn’t help. “Can I kiss you? I would love to kiss you right now.”

Thor smirked, one hand traced up your arm to cup your face tenderly, and you pushed forward to meet him halfway and press your lips to his. Your own arms wrapped around his neck to pull him closer and words couldn’t describe how it felt to have his warm lips molding to yours. You felt the tip of his tongue trace your lower lip and it brought a laugh bubbling out of you.

“Typically, laughter is not the response I try to gain from this.” Thor mumbled against your lips with a smile of his own. You pecked him on the lip once more and when you pulled back he followed to prevent any space from forming between the two of you. His forehead rested against yours as his thumb traced back and forth on your cheekbone.

“You just have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

#thor odinson #thor x you #thor x reader #thor odinson x reader #thor odinson x you #marvel #soulmate au

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indestructibleheart · 2 months

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Hi, fam! Okay, so I'm going to be out at an appointment tomorrow morning, so I'm kicking this off a little bit early. It's technically Wednesday in several timezones and very nearly Wednesday in mine. I'm... also a bit eager to share this, ngl.

I know that I've shared a lot of angst lately, but I swear that's not all I'm doing. 😅 In fact, the actor/playwright AU decided to wallop me in the face out of nowhere after sitting in my WIP folder for months. I'm really excited about it, so I'm gonna share the first scene!

(Also, those of you who have been to New York with me will recognize my favorite brunch spot in this scene lmao.)

---

You probably didn't even know I was in the room, but I noticed you straight away. You were talking with your friends, happy and animated and fully alive—a person living in dimensions I couldn’t access—and so beautiful. Your hair was longer then. You were the center of attention, but you weren’t afraid. You had a yellow ipê-amarelo in your pocket. I thought, this is the most incredible thing I have ever seen; I'd better keep it a safe distance away from me. I thought, if someone like that ever loved me, it would set me on fire.

INT. MOM'S KITCHEN & BAR - HELL'S KITCHEN - LATE MORNING

"I'm telling y'all," Alex is saying, punctuating with dangerously large bites of his pancake burrito. "The dude's a dick."

It's been two hours since the nightmare audition, but Alex has been on this tirade since June and Nora first slid into the retro diner chairs across from him (at least forty-five minutes ago).

They're at Mom's: a restaurant-bar in midtown that can only be described as millennial nostalgia incarnate. The trio fell in love with it two years back—post-karaoke, stumbling in right before closing—when Alex saw God in their Fruity Pebble pancakes. Since then, it's been his favorite place to eat his feelings.

Mom's is just really fucking comforting in general, honestly; whether it's the televisions cycling through episodes of 'Rugrats,' 'Dexter's Laboratory,' and 'Hey, Arnold!' or the rainbow straws and Lisa-Frank-looking menus, Alex can't be sure. It doesn't hurt that they've made friends with several of the waitstaff, including an eccentric bartender, Pez, whose pink hair and painted nails fit right in with the decor.

Today, it's the combination of breakfast sausage, bacon, eggs and cheese wrapped up in a syrup-soaked pancake that's really doing something for him. It could also be the margarita the size of his face, which Pez placed in front of him before making himself uncharacteristically scarce. But it's fine. He's probably just busy.

Alex won't admit it out loud, but what really helps is having June and Nora here to talk to… even though Nora is scrolling on her phone.

"I'm sorry," June says. She pokes an ice cube with her straw, and Alex watches as it bobs around her mimosa like a buoy. "That sounds like it sucked, but if he's really that rude… maybe you didn't want to work with him anyway."

Nora doesn't look up as she pops a home fry into her mouth.

"Several sources say he's difficult to work with," she adds, evidently reading about Henry on the internet. "Though, in his defense, his dad did just die, like, three years ago… and there was that whole thing when he came out after. Remember?"

Alex does remember. Henry's grandmother, Mary Mountchristen, runs a pretty major company that used to own half the theatres on the West End. When Henry came out last year, she tried blacklisting his shows from her properties to punish him—which totally backfired when it got around. At least a dozen other queer writers and producers started talking about how they were also denied the space, and Mary was stoned on the streets of the theatre district. Like, metaphorically.

Alex, Nora, and June had just moved to New York, but between June's position at Newsday and both Alex and Nora on the audition circuit, it was all anyone in their new circles could talk about. They were some of the first to know when the Mountchristens were bought out of their properties and Henry moved to the States.

This show is the first of Henry's being produced here—and it's autobiographical, which Alex has to admit is pretty fucking baller. So, yeah, Nora's not wrong. He has reason to be standoffish. Still, it doesn't explain why Alex was only halfway through his audition monologue when Henry abruptly stood up and exited stage left as if pursued by a bear.

He shoves another forkful into his mouth. "It's just, like, they're the only people who let me into the room," he says, barely finishing chewing. "Nobody wants to take me seriously, and I really thought this was my shot, you know?"

June and Nora both know Alex is having a hard time landing serious roles after growing up on a sitcom—Nora more than most, as his former co-star. What they don't know is that losing this role, specifically, feels like a kick to the stomach. From the moment Alex saw the script, he wanted to be a part of it. He can't even explain why, and now he'll never figure it out. Henry wouldn't give him a chance.

"It wasn't your only shot, and you know it." Nora fixes him with a look. "Seriously, I get it—I do—but it's just one play, buddy."

June nods. "Something will happen for you, baby brother."

At that, Alex finally groans. "Okay, calling me baby brother doesn't help me feel better about the entertainment industry infantili—"

"—itty bitty, teeny weeny—"

Alex throws a home fry at her face.

It bounces off her forehead and into the giant gauntlet holding her mimosa with a very unappetizing splash. Just as Alex throws his hands into the air with a victorious whoop, his phone buzzes on the table.

A glance is all it takes for him to see that it's his agent, Zahra.

"Damn," he says, deflating. There goes that upswing. "You answer it."

June balks. "Me?"

"I don't need to hear how fucking badly it went. Trust me, I got the message." Alex blinks innocently, like he's six years old again, asking her to lie to their mom about that broken vase. "Please, Bug? Besides, Zahra actually likes you."

"Everyone likes me." June rolls her eyes, but she caves—answering the phone with a haughty, "Alex Claremont-Diaz's office," before breaking into a smile. "Yeah, Z. It's me… No, Alex is feeling a little sensitive today."

(He throws another home fry at her. This one misses.)

To her credit, June's face remains totally blank as Zahra no doubt tells her how Alex insulted Henry Fox's name and all of his inbred ancestors just by showing up, or whatever—which is extremely annoying and unhelpful—but, once she says goodbye and sets the phone back down on the table, her face breaks out into a grin.

"Guess you didn't suck too bad," she says. "They want you for the part."

He doesn't know if it's Nora throwing herself at him or the shock that knocks him onto the floor.

Tagging some lovelies. If you haven't been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!

@anchoredarchangel, @barbiediaz, @cha-melodius, @cricketnationrise, @guillermosfamiliar, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @hippolotamus, @inexplicablymine, @jettestar, @junebugclaremontdiaz, @kiwiana-writes, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, @missgeevious, @mulderscully, @myheartalivewrites, @ninzied, @nontoxic-writes, @notspecialbabe, @priincebutt, @rmd-writes, @rosedavid, @three-drink-amy, @treluna4, @vanillahigh00, @welcometololaland, @orchidscript, @ships-to-sail, @stereopticons

#wip:snippet #m:wip #fic: breaking character

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bottlehawk · 10 months

Note

listen. Listen to me. Davejade kismesis. LISTEN (im not deranged i swear)

we'll only get this when dave learns to start respecting women op. jk i'm gonna say the most potential for this is obviously after grimbark jade happens. i think it'd be funny to see what happens when two childhood friends that get back together after being separated for 3 years learn that they actually can not tolerate each other's presence due to them both growing and changing as different people. like they immediately move in as roommates on earth c because they're in denial that the vibes are off and they're besties and they've been excited to meet each other after this long so why not!! and everyone has always been like "you guys are so cute together" and your friends agree your dynamic had always been wholesome and you guys are just the most wholesomest of wholesome pals!! but there's always a weird tension in the air. and it's noticeable. and it's uncomfortable. and there are long pauses in all of their conversations at home and it is so so awkward. and then the snarking starts. like john'll be at brunch with the both of them and he'll be like "what do you want?" and dave will be like "i dont know, ill just get whatever you guys are getting" and then jade will go "tsk... can you be any more predictable?". and then the glaring starts. and before the mimosas even arrive pretty much we're at a full-out scuffling match on the patio as they're knocking over outdoor furniture while john is in the background going "ayo!!!" watching helplessly from the sidelines. and then after a minute of straight up fist fighting they pause after being covered in blood and fur and ripped out hair. and then they stare at each other. and then they start violently making out and john is like "AYO?????????". but neither of them prescribe to kismesistude because they're quadrant-phobic so they just live like this for the rest of their lives and don't label it.

#homestuck #asks #dave strider #jade harley #davejade #bottlehawk text #divorced couple vibes #yeah this is basically marriage story #john egbert #the poor kid wondering where it all went wrong #(he does not know the complexities of the ashen quadrants)

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willaferrreyra · 1 year

Text

seven miles straight up — greg hirsch x fem!reader

gif not mine

greg hirsch is afraid of flying and in need of a distraction — luckily you’re an expert in that field.

1.3k words

contains: just pure fluff, love confessions, kind of cliché but whatever….we all need some cliché greg fluff i think

disclaimer: i do not proofread my work so please excuse any grammatical errors! so happy to be back writing again before the new season :)

"Do you ever, like, get nervous when you fly?"

Greg posed the question as you stood next to him, waiting to board the 777 bound for London. In a few days you'd both be attending what Tom promised would be the "marital event of the century". Everyone else would be making the journey in sleek private jets or at least a decent commercial business class. You and Greg, however, were stuck flying coach. It's not like either of you could afford much else.

You paused to ponder Greg's question.

"No, not really. I mean, I trust the pilots. You know, air travel is statistically the safest form of travel," you looked up at your friend standing next to you. "How about you?"

He was always anxious. After being his friend for the past few months, you knew that. It wouldn't surprise you to find out that he's a nervous flyer.

"Oh, uh, me? No," he shook his head. "Definitely not. 40,000 feet is like nothing."

"7 and a half miles straight up is nothing?" you teased.

"Yeah, that's like doing the walk from your apartment to that brunch place you like, like 7 times," he said matter-of-factly. "It's easy."

You chuckled and shook your head. It was an easy walk, two miles round trip. You and Greg had made it a tradition to get Sunday brunch once he started working with you at Waystar. You needed a set day to release your work frustrations, and it didn't hurt to add a mimosa in the mix.

Once you boarded the plane, you wished you could've opted for the business class seat. Sure, it was uncomfortable for you, but Greg? Zero legroom. You watched as he shifted his legs around, trying to settle on the least uncomfortable position.

"You good?" you asked as you noticed him shift his focus to the tiny screen on the back of the seat in front of him.

"Oh yeah, just...just, you know. Settling in."

Whether he wanted to admit it or not, you could tell he was anxious. Worse than that, anxious and uncomfortable. Anxious, uncomfortable, and in need of a distraction.

"So, Tom's wedding," you shifted the conversation. "That's sure to be interesting."

“Uh huh,” he replied, nervously looking around the cabin upon hearing the ding for the seatbelt sign.

You were going to need a better distraction than that.

“Hey, how about we play a game?” You suggested.

Greg’s attention returned to you at the mention of a game.

“Like what kind of game? I don’t think you’re supposed to, like, stand up during takeoff, you know?”

“This game doesn’t require any standing. It’s called truth or drink. It’s like truth or dare except if you don’t want to tell the truth you, well, you drink,” you explained. “If you dodge all of my questions you’ll get drunk, fall asleep, and forget that the ground is 7 miles below us.”

Greg hesitated for a minute, debating whether or not he should actually take out the safety card for the safety demo. Nobody else seemed to be paying attention.

“I mean, it sounds like fun but what if I drink too much and we crash and then I’m, like, too incoherent to evacuate?”

“Well, in that case I’ll make sure to answer all of your questions so I can stay sober enough to help you out of the plane. Deal?”

He nodded, watching the window as the plane began to pull away from the gate.

“Great!” you grinned. “I mean, we won’t be able to get any drinks until after takeoff so for now it’ll need to be truth or truth. So get your good questions out now.”

“Okay,” he paused for a minute. “If you could have any job at Waystar, what would it be?”

“Easy. Head of entertainment,” you said. “I could get out of New York and set up shop in the LA office. Enjoy the sunshine and get myself a little bungalow in the Hollywood hills with a pool. You get the gist.”

“Wow, that was quick,” Greg chuckled. “You don’t like working in parks and cruises?”

You shrugged. “I mean, it’s alright. I don’t think it’s a forever job, though.”

“Yeah, yeah, no. Not a forever job,” he replied.

“Okay, your turn,” you smiled.

The truth was, this little distraction game of yours had ulterior motives. It sounds so high school, but ever since Greg began working with you, you had been head over heels for him. You loved how he always waited for you after a meeting. You loved it when he came over to your desk with one of those little plastic water cups. You even loved it when he needed help with something because, despite your heavy workload, helping him with his tasks just made you feel good.

You had to know if he felt the same way even through the means of a stupid game.

You knew that you couldn’t just outright say “who’s the prettiest girl in the office” (even though you really wanted to). So, you decided to go for something more subtle.

“Are you interested in anyone right now?”

Greg furrowed his brows. “Like how? Romantically?”

You nodded.

“No, I mean, not really.”

“Really, Greg? Out of everyone in the entire office and beyond, there’s not a SINGLE person who you have the slightest interest in?”

He shifted his gaze from you to the window as the plane continued its taxi.

“Well, I mean, there is this one girl who I think is kinda cool if that’s what you mean by interest,” he said.

“Oh? Who is she?”

“You don’t know her,” he added quickly. “She works…upstairs.”

“Well, what’s her name?” You pressed. “I know more people in the office than you’d think.”

Greg continued to avoid eye contact as he stared at the plane’s engine. He couldn’t decide what was worse, revealing that he liked you or lying, avoiding eye contact, and witnessing an engine failure in the process.

“I actually know she doesn’t know you because I told her about you once and she, um, she said she didn’t know who you were.”

“Well if you won’t tell me her name can you at least tell me what she’s like?”

“She’s uh, she’s really nice to me. Which is weird because I feel like most people weren’t super welcoming at Waystar, y’know? She’s always helping me with the day-to-day stuff. She lets me complain to her which is nice.”

You could feel your cheeks start to get hot. You knew where this was going. Or did you? Maybe there really was another woman upstairs who you didn’t know about.

“Yeah…what else?”

“She’s always so put together,” he continued. “Even on days when she comes into work and she’s like ‘oh, I look bad today’ I think she looks beautiful. But I never tell her that because I don’t want to come off as a creep.”

You nodded. You often came into work on an off-morning complaining about a bad hair day or the bags under your eyes which were the result of an all-nighter.

Greg finally turned to face you, deciding that this was better than witnessing a potential engine failure.

“And she loves brunch. And movies. And she’s really good at calming you down if you have a fear of flying.”

You smiled as the plane began to speed down the runway.

There was a panic in Greg’s eyes and you couldn’t tell if it was the result of takeoff or his recent confession. Either way, you had just the trick to distract him.

You leaned in to kiss him and his lips happily met yours, welcoming the distraction. As the plane climbed in altitude, the butterflies in your stomach intensified. You weren’t exactly the most comfortable flyer either, but you’d never felt safer and happier in your whole life.

As you pulled away, you couldn’t help but notice how calm he looked.

“Should we get those drinks now?” you grinned. “I think they start serving them around 10000 feet.”

Greg looked out the window and smiled. “10000 feet? I didn’t even notice.”

#greg hirsch #greg hirsch x reader #cousin greg #succession #AH THIS IS SO FLUFFY I HOPE U ENJOY #i hope the greg girls find this

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heavyhitterheaux · 2 years

Text

Bottomless Mimosas

AN: I was laughing the entire time writing this lol I hope yall like it

Synopsis: First time out at brunch with your best friends after giving birth to your twins

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

Please do not repost my content anywhere

"Oh shit, help her up!"

There you were in the bushes next to the parking garage outside of the restaurant you and your best friends just came out of.

You just wanted to go out with your best friends and get a much needed break from being a new mom. You were grateful, but having had two at one time was catching up to you. It's been four months since you had them with your husband Jack and he called your best friends to take you out for the day.

The day had been going fine until the mimosas came out at approximately 11:23 am.

It was now almost 2 pm and here you were drunk off your ass.

"I'm trying! Y/N give me your hand."

"No! I have a boyfriend! I'm not a cheater!"

"You actually have a husband. Girl, come on before someone sees us."

"Oh my gosh, my head is spinning."

"I guess so. You had like eight drinks."

"Ohhh, don't tell Jack. We can wait it out."

"I'm already calling him because you can't even stand up. This is not something we can wait out. We'll be here for hours."

"Nooooo. I can walk."

You attempted to get up, but fell down again.

"Oops."

One of your best friends Courtney sat you on the curb and sat next to you to help keep you from falling over.

You could barely sit up straight and you damn sure couldn't walk.

Thank goodness Courtney had driven you.

Your other best friend Amanda was calling Jack and he picked up on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Jack we have a situation."

Before Jack could respond to Amanda, all he heard was you screaming in the background.

"Babyyyyy, I miss you." with a hiccup proceeding directly after.

By then, he knew you were fucked all the way up.

"Please don’t tell me that's Y/N in the background." Jack replied while pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Umm, well you see what had happened was...”

All Jack could do was sigh before grabbing his keys and making his way to the garage. Thank goodness the twins were with his mom.

He thought it would be a good idea for the three of you to go out together, however, due to past situations which almost involved the three of you getting arrested he should have known better.

“Just drop me the location, I’m coming.”

By the time Jack had reached you, everything was starting to spin and you had a feeling what you had eaten for brunch was going to begin to make its way back up.

You had your eyes closed and suddenly felt someone sit on the other side of you.

“Baby girl, I know I told you to go out and have fun, but damn.”

You peeked one eye open before proceeding to lay your head on Jack’s shoulder.

“I don’t think I drank too much. I told them not to call you and to wait it out.” Hiccup.

“We beg to differ and you need to sleep this shit off. Wait it out my ass.” Courtney added while stifling a laugh.

“Whatever, oh my gosh, JACKKK someone was trying to hit on me and I held up my hand and said no, I have a boyfriend.”

“We’re married, but go on.”

“No, don’t let her go on because it was me trying to help your dumbass up once you fell in the bushes. No one was trying to hit on you.”

“Waiiit, we’re married? When did that happen?”

“About three years ago.”

“Wait until she finds out about the twins.” Amanda added while trying not to laugh as the scene unfolded in front of her.

“I HAVE KIDS? WITH WHO?”

“With your HUSBAND.”

“Who’s my husband? I’M MARRIED?!”

“Jack honey... Jack is your husband and he is literally sitting right beside you.”

“Ohhh, I thought you looked familiar. I think you’re the lock screen on my phone.”

All three of them sighed and determined they were done with trying to convince you of anything.

“Okay pretty girl, let’s get you home.” Without another word, Jack threw you over his shoulder and started to make his way toward his jeep.

“Byeee best friends, I love you.” You yelled out before letting out another hiccup.

Amanda and Courtney waved and said that they loved you before making their way to their own cars while Jack was attempting to put your seatbelt on.

“Stink, sit still so I can put your seatbelt on.”

“I’m not even moving.”

“But, you are moving, put your arms down.”

You complied and laid your head back on the headrest to try to keep your head from spinning. One wrong move and you were about to throw up in your husband’s car.

Once Jack had started driving, you couldn’t do anything but stare at him.

“Take a picture, it lasts longer. And stop looking at me like I’m something to eat.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind if you ate me. You look really good. I mean you look really good every day, but...”

“No, you’re drunk and we are NOT having sex.”

“But whyyyyy? And I’m not drunk! Do you not love me anymore?”

“Y/N, I MARRIED you.”

“But, that doesn’t mean anything!!”

“Babe, sit back and try not to throw up in my car.”

“You won’t have sex with me so I should throw up in your car.” You pouted while crossing your arms and looking out the window.

“SERIOUSLY?”

A few hours later, you woke up and saw that there were two excedrin migraine pills and a bottle of water on the nightstand next to you. It was starting to get dark outside and you came to the conclusion not to drink so much next time.

But, I mean you only had about five...or was it seven?

Your head was pounding and you took them quickly before deciding to lay back down. You had the comforter over your head when you felt Jack sit next to you on his side of the bed.

“You alright over there, stink?”

All you could do was groan to let him know that at least you were alive.

“I take it that’s a no.”

“Do not EVER let me go out with them again.”

“Babe, you say this every single time and a few weeks later the three of you are back at it. Remember the time the three of you almost got arrested?”

You lifted up the comforter to simply give him the middle finger before covering yourself back up.

“No one asked you to bring that up Jackman.”

“I’m just saying. Are you hungry? I brought food for us.”

At the mention of food, you jumped up and made a beeline to the bathroom with Jack following quickly behind you and threw up everything that you ate earlier in the day. Once you had finished, Jack fixed your bonnet since it had fallen half way off because of your quick movements and placed a wet washcloth on your forehead. You proceeded to brush your teeth before sitting back down on the floor.

“Well, that answers my question. Come on.” Jack helped you up off the floor and lead you back into the bedroom before you plopped down onto the bed face first.

“Babe, give me the cloth so you don’t get the bed wet.”

“Can’t.... move.”

Jack sighed before turning you over and bringing you to rest your head on his chest.

“You know you said earlier that you didn’t know you were married or had kids.”

“What the fuck did they put in those drinks? Was I really that bad?”

“Yeah and I should’ve recorded it. You were convinced I didn’t love you anymore because I told you we weren’t having sex while you were drunk. I should have known it was about to be some shit when it comes to you three.”

“Oh good lord and we aren’t even that bad!” You peeked up at Jack to see him trying not to laugh and you simply hit his chest.

“I can’t stand you.” You replied while pouting.

“Love you too stink.” Jack placed a quick kiss to your forehead before you heard your phone go off letting you know you had a text.

Jack handed you your phone and you opened it up to see that it was the group text between you, Amanda, and Courtney.

Courtney- Y/N, if you aren’t dead we’re going out next weekend

Amanda- I would be surprised if she’s even awake

You- Bitch, say less. Where are we going? I’m readyyyy

“Who is that babe?”

“Amanda and Courtney. They want to go out next weekend.”

“Seriously?” Jack had a look of disbelief on his face and was praying you would sit this one out.

“Yes, I have to get my outfit together. Should I wear the new black dress I got or the red one?”

#jack harlow #jackman harlow #jackman thomas harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow concept #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x you #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow x fem!reader

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swissboyhisch · 10 months

Text

WAG Meetings

Pairing: Steven Stamkos x Reader

Summary: After it's confirmed that the boys will go to playoffs for another season, the WAGs have a meeting to discuss the most exciting part. WAG Jackets.

Word Count: 1025

Warnings: I predict a lot of inaccuracies about playoff planning and that. Kids. Bad flow.

A/N: I personally love this but I'm not sure how good it is.

THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

On the 1st of April, you and the other partners of Tampa Bay Lightning gathered at your home in Tampa to watch as your boys clinched a playoff spot for the 2022-2023 season. That signalled the start of the playoff prep for you. It was to be your tenth postseason. Your tenth playoff run experience. However, this was your ninth as the Captain’s partner. That also meant creating your ninth playoff jacket.

The day after the clinch, the girls came over again. The boys were on a road trip giving you all the space you could need to start the prep. You organised a brunch while you organised this year’s WAG jacket. You weren't the captain's partner the first year you were involved in a WAG jacket creation. But now you lead the charge. Luckily you have experience by now.

You finished setting up the large charcuterie board on the coffee table in the lounge room. All the extra chairs and bean bags were set up for everyone. Everything was set up for adults and kids, including food and drinks.

“Mama!”

Speaking of kids, your son came running up to you. Ever the twin of his father, his blonde hair was a mess. “What’s wrong, kiddo?”

“Dadda?”

“Dadda is at work.” The pout that graced his face was heartwrenching. One that you knew all too well. “He’ll be home tomorrow.”

The doorbell echoed through the house. Kiddo squirmed in your arms, making you put him down. He sprinted to the door and jumped, trying to reach the door handle. You couldn’t hold back the chuckle at the sight. You came up behind him, opening the door to reveal Sanna holding Rio—Kiddo’s best friend.

Sanna Hedman has been your best friend since she and Victor arrived in Tampa in 2009. You two quickly gravitated towards each other as you were close in age and relatively new to Tampa. You had arrived only the season before. Sanna was your alternate captain, helping you organise many events for the girls. And it also meant both your kids, born only months apart, are best friends like their parents.

“Rio!” Kiddo squeals.

You two laughed at your boys hugging before speeding into the house, straight to the playroom downstairs set up for the kids. Sanna, with a bag of bottles of champagne in her arms, followed you through to the kitchen. The pair of you flitted around the kitchen, ensuring everything was ready. A tray of mimosas was poured, ready for the girls to arrive.

“Here,” Sanna grins as she hands you a mimosa and sits beside you at the kitchen counter.

“To another playoff run,” You grin.

Sanna laughs happily, “Cheers. Another year of playoff fun.”

Over the next ten minutes, you welcomed other women and kids into your home like many times before. Soon you were all settled into the lounge room—everyone with a drink. You had a seat near the tv where the PowerPoint you created last night after everyone left the watch party. It had all sorts of slides discussing styles, colours, and fabrics. Everything that is needed for the jackets and more.

Cece came and sat on the other side of you. She was one of the newer WAGs in the group. The young woman was the long-term partner for Ross Colton, the young centre on the team. She couldn’t contain her excitement. “I can’t believe it.”

“Your first WAG jacket,” Senna smiled, who was next to you as she would be helping you with the presentation.

The pair of you had taken the young woman into your close-knit group. You two, Tiff (Kilhorn’s partner) and Ana Kucherov, were all very close. The leaders of the group, if you will. But as a whole, all the women were close.

“Welcome all to the 2023 WAG Playoffs meeting.”

The girls all cheered and clapped. It was a big thing for your boys, and all of you were excited about another playoff run. For a couple of new girls within the group, it was their first playoff experience. But like every year you’ve had this meeting, everyone’s emotions were at an all-time high.

“We will be starting off with our jackets, as I want to be able to send them off to the designer tomorrow.”

“When will they be ready?” Cece questioned.

Sanna grins, “Most likely around two weeks.”

“Since I became captain’s partner, we’ve been working with the designer Jenna Jetta, a Jacksonville-based designer. This is the ninth postseason we’ll be working with her. Jenna only works with Lightning. Senna and I will go to Jacksonville this weekend to see the test jacket.”

It took a lot of talking, going back and forth between everyone, but you all finally agreed on a design—a black leather jacket with neon blue lightning around the bottom. Then on the back, there was the player’s number and their signature. On the front had the team logo and the partner’s name. And on the collar, they had little flags, one on each end, representing the two players.

Each girl had little personal things on the jacket as well. They could choose little embroidery details to add. You had chosen to add your son’s name and your and Steven’s hometown on the sleeve cuffs.

“Now we’ve finished the design of the WAG jackets; it’s time to discuss round one. It’s already confirmed the boys will be against the Leafs for the first round.”

Senna hummed in agreement. “It’s been announced games one and two are in Toronto. For those wanting to travel, you are more than welcome. But if you don’t, Mrs Captain, Ana, and I plan someone to host a watch party for those two games at one of our houses.”

“Games three and four are home, meaning each player has a suite. We will be deciding at a later date who will have which suite,” You add on. After you had given everyone the rundown on the first round, it was time to conclude the official pre-playoff meeting. “Thank you for your involvement in this year’s playoff jacket design. I can’t wait to give them out at the pre-playoff dinner.”

TAG LIST:

@penny4yourthoughts @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras @francesfarhadi @cixrosie @daisysthings

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