#oh and multis please tell me who you want the starter to be for

[judasrpc]

THE INFILTRATOR (2016 FILM) DIALOGUE STARTERS

add context & change gendered language to your needs !! contains explicit / graphic content pertaining to violence, drugs, and similar potentially upsetting themes !!

if multi, please specify which muse(s) !!

" Oh, I know. No, I know what you mean. But you're so cute when you struggle. "

" Hey, keep your eyes off my girlfriend. "

" You know, my people say they can handle more. "

" That's just what my people like to hear. "

" Hey, let's get the fuck out of here. "

" Get your fucking hands off me! "

" So, is [name] dead? "

" Oh, he's dead alright. Deep fried. "

" You don't get a piece of the action? "

" Everyone needs a beachfront address. I got six of them. "

" Yeah, well, I just don't live in your world. "

" When I say bad, I mean the county morgue had to rent Burger King's trucks to ice all the dead bodies littering our sunny streets. "

" Meet with your connects, talk to your informants, do your job. "

" Before I go to jail, I swear on my fucking kids, I'm gonna put someone on [name]. "

" And I'm gonna go in naked so he doesn't have to worry about me having a gun. "

" Hey, fuck you, buddy. "

" I wonder what Sunday dinner is like at his place. "

" I'd hate to lose you, [name]. "

" You know, we have a front door. "

" I don't get invited to too many houses with a wife and tea. More like coke, whores, and Schlitz, you know what I'm saying? "

" How long have you known them? "

" Long enough. What is this, 20 Questions? "

" What do you care? Is it coming out of your pocket? "

" Okay. Alright. Be like that. "

" You trust this guy?"

" As much as I trust you. “

" Trust you, man? I pay you for information, not trust. "

" I think that we've been doing this backwards. "

" You can't work without him. He's your way in. "

" Yeah, it's kind of sexy. "

" Who the hell cares it it's sexy? "

" I care. It's my name. I want(ed) to have a sexy name. "

" So, how'd you two meet again? "

" You two must have got all the pussy. "

" Don't encourage him. "

" Oh, my God. It was so filthy even the rats ran from it, you know? "

" Um, do you need money for a cab? "

" My boss wants to stay in the background. You're going to have to deal with me, ok? "

" So, this is all just a joke to you? "

" Oh, that's just... Hold it, hold it. Wait a minute. Wait a minute. I gotta write that shit down. That's fucking brilliant. "

" It's the little things that get you whacked, do you understand that? "

" You should put those on. Could get a little messy. "

" I don't care who you work for right now. I really don't. I'm not here for that. "

" Just be yourself. I need you. "

" Okay. Flip him or fuck him. "

" That would be something we might consider. "

" Promise me this is the last one. "

" We are going to have a fantastic evening. I promise you that. "

" I cannot allow my businesses and your money to be compromised. "

" [Name], you're undercover. You gotta do whatever the fuck you gotta do, man. "

" Oh, my God, you're a piece of work, [name]. You're a fucking piece of work. "

" You guys could be playing cricket on a yacht, eating early... Whatever it is that fucking white people do when you retire. "

" It's my fucking drug of choice. "

" Let me tell you something: Nobody, nobody does it better than me. So listen to me sometimes, will you? "

" [Name], I think that we should walk before we run. Everything will happen in the right time. "

" Fuck that! There's no deal. "

" I will keep my hands off you if you keep your eyes on my bosses' money. "

" The [family/organization name] have staked more than their reputation, they have staked their lives. And yours, I'm afraid. "

" You think I have women lining up around the block wanting to marry you? "

" Now go out and get to know whoever it takes to make me look like I rubbed the right dick. It's a metaphor. "

" Sir, in the future I will manage this personally. We do this for our customers who handle special clients. Do you understand? "

" That's what I want to hear, because my clients are businessmen, too, like yourselves, only their business is selling cocaine. "

" We like to be nimble with our clients' cash. How does that sound? "

" Perfect. You already sound like a married couple. "

" Stay close to the truth, makes it easier to lie. "

" Now you're fucking this up. What are you, a moron or something? "

" Except I get this motherfucker telling me that I'm a liar? "

" That was the most degrading, vicious, disgusting thing I have ever seen you do. "

" Who the fuck are you working for? Huh? Who do you work for, motherfucker? "

" Listen, friend, I never fuck on the first date. "

" Whatever happened to good ol' integrity? "

" Do you think that I'm doing a good job for you? "

" If you can't convince your bosses to meet with me, then our arrangement is over. "

" We have reached a point of no return, [name]. "

" So, [name], what can you do for me? "

" We like to take, not to be taken. "

" Watch this, [name], and learn. "

" Well, I love being on a first-name basis with a gentleman. "

" Can I ask you a question? Have you ever had your palm read? "

" I've just never seen quite so many stars align at the fate line. It means destiny has marked you for success. "

" That's why I'm marrying [name]. I want what you have. A normal family. You are very fortunate. "

" It's their fault I'm not wearing an apron and sweating my balls off in a kitchen somewhere. "

" God gave us free will, so who am I to stand in the way of someone who wants to indulge in self-destructive behavior? "

" The only difference is, in my business, nothing good ever comes in the absence of trust. "

" Yeah, well, you're here because of me, and I feel responsible for your safety. "

" You know, that son of a bitch was my friend. "

" I'm risking my life for pennies, man. "

" You want more money, get a fucking law degree. "

" I'll fucking tell them you're a piece of shit... "

" I should've listened to him. I'm such a fucking idiot, the fucking... "

" You shut your fucking mouth. You fuck this up and I swear to God..."

" It stinks in here like a fucking pig. "

" Oh, I'm so scared of you with your dick hanging out like that. "

" But there's a little problem I need you to fix first. "

" That's not an answer that keeps you alive, my friend. "

" I know I sound like a broken record, but I fucking heard it and I've seen it. You think you understand? You fucking don't. "

" They cut off your fingers. They cut off your toes. They inject you with that adrenaline shit so you can't pass out before all of that. "

" Man, they cut open your fucking eyes so you can't shut them, and then they're gonna bring in your little fucking family. "

" You made a choice... And this is mine. "

" Well, you certainly know how to make women happy. "

" Unfortunately, neither you nor I are in a position to dictate terms to [name]. "

" Yes, that is exactly what I'm asking you to do. "

" [Name], you started the meeting without me. "

" Why don't you go take a walk, huh? "

" Are you kidding me? I'm gonna dance with you right away. "

" I know. I know who the fuck you are, [name]. "

" I'm going to sit in your fucking hotel, and then I'm going to kill you! "

" I'm not going back home with you right now. "

" Are you sleeping with him? "

" You're a lucky woman. And you don't have to worry. "

" [Name], listen, I need more time. "

" There is a beginning, middle, and end to everything. This is the end, [name]. "

" We live each day in divinity. The power and the quality of divinity. It rains on us. When we live in humility, God's providence pours into us. We are truly blessed. All of us. We live in majesty. Each and every one of us who work on such a glorious endeavor... God pours his infinite benevolence on [us], as we have the humility to receive it. "

" [Name] told me you're the only one I can trust. "

" It's like you get close to people, you know them. "

" It's not just a job. I feel so terrible for her. "

" [Name], tux looks good. Kiss the bride for me. "

" Hey [name], [name]! Can you help me with this damn thing? "

" Do you think I'm gonna get fucked later? "

" Oh, you're gonna get fucked like you've never been fucked before. "

" Move it, piss ant. "

" [Name], I'm glad you're here. But there is a part of me that wishes you hadn't taken that risk. "

" You traitors! You will fucking regret this! You hear me? You will live to regret this! "

" Ain't that some shit, [name]? "

" Too bad you got jilted, you look so hot. "

" Go home, [name]. "

#rp memes #rp meme #rp prompts #rp prompt #roleplay prompts #writing prompts #ask box meme #askbox meme #rph #rpc #judasrpc

[khemianprinz-a]

[ like this post for either an albedo starter or something from him slipped into your ask box! could be in canon verse or modern, depending on your own preference or whatever my head concocts- ]

#if you have a preference just shove it in a reply to this post or dm me!! ill do my best to make it work ;3 #oh and multis please tell me who you want the starter to be for #im finally out of super low activity mode so thisll be done within the next two or three days depending on how much i wanna overthink these #ooc;

[kirain]

Hazbin Hotel and VivziePop Drama

I've been hearing/seeing a lot of drama concerning Hazbin Hotel and it's creator VivziePop, and while I don't know her personally or really care what people think, I do hate slander and the spread of misinformation. Truly nothing in this world upsets me more than when people believe rumours while making no effort to fact check, and that's exactly what's happening right now. That said, I wanted to try and clear up some of the rumours going around about Vivzie and the show, because I think some of them are absolutely outrageous and need to be addressed.

1. Vivzie hired an abuser onto the show.

Now, I’m not here to burn anyone at the stake, especially since I don’t know anything about Chris Niosi (the alleged abuser), who I believe openly admitted to the allegations? Regardless, this is a moot point. He’s not credited anywhere at the end of the episode. So either he was booted before production wrapped up or he had nothing to do with the show in the first place.

2. Vivzie supports bestiality.

Admittedly I thought this one might be true, since she draws so many anthropomorphic animals. In the very least, I figured she was probably a furry, but I haven't seen any evidence supporting this accusation either. Near as I can tell, this rumour started for two reasons. One, because of her famous Zoophobia comic, which revolves around a therapist named Cameron who gets assigned to work with human-like animals. Ironically, poor Cameron suffers from crippling zoophobia, which makes for some pretty decent comedy. I didn't read the whole comic because, quite frankly, it’s not my cup of tea and I just don’t have the time. But from what I saw there are no examples of bestiality anywhere in its contents.

Two, this message, which blew up all over social media:

To me, this just proves that people are more interested in virtue signalling than checking to see if their claims are actually true. Everything about this message is 100% false, which I’ll touch on in my next point.

3. Vivzie is a pedophile and she’s drawn child porn.

This is hands down the worst allegation and holy shit, I really wish people would stop using it to defame someone when they don't have any proof. This is a life-ruining accusation and you're disgusting if you believe it based solely on hearsay. This rumour began to spread when Vivzie allegedly shipped the two underage characters in the above photo and drew them NSFW-style. At the time, one character was 19 while the other was 14, and the relationship was a very illegal student-teacher relationship.

This is WRONG! The characters were not 14 and 19, they were actually 18 and 19, the legal age of consent! Additionally, the relationship wasn't student-teacher. One character is a student and the other is Alumni (a student teacher). This one pisses me off the most because it’s obvious the person who sent that message didn’t even bother to conduct any research. They said, “He’s a teacher, she’s a child.” Both characters are MALE!

Since then, Vivzie has apologised for any NSFW art she drew in the past and stated that it's not a reflection of her art today, and I'm inclined to believe her. Almost every artist has drawn NSFW content at some point in their career, and hers wasn't even distasteful. Other than this one example, there is no evidence anywhere that suggests she’s drawn “child porn”. In fact, she’s never even drawn explicit NSFW.

Please stop spreading this rumour. It’s dangerous and completely incorrect.

4. Vivzie said the "N" word!

No, she didn’t. It was a fabricated tweet. That is all.

5. Vivzie is copyright striking every video that criticises her!

No she isn't. YouTube’s DMCA is automatically striking people who are using full clips without permission. Vivzie has gone public several times, telling people exactly how to avoid getting a copy strike from the algorithm, which is something she absolutely does not have to do. At this point, she doesn't owe you anything. In my opinion, she should just sit back and watch these channels burn.

6. Vivzie copies and traces other artists’ work.

This is another one I’ve seen going around, but I looked into it as thoroughly as I could and failed to find any concrete evidence to support the allegations. As of right now, there are only two examples of Vivzie “copying” or “tracing” other artists’ work, and both of them can be explained. The first is a gif she made with a character from her Zoophobia comic, which looked a lot like the girl from ME!ME!ME!:

Damn, that’s pretty incriminating. She obviously stole-- oh, wait. This gif was part of a ME!ME!ME! MEP (multi editor’s project) and Vivzie didn’t take full credit, despite the fact that it’s not even a direct trace. It’s supposed to look like the original, which she fully cited. The second example comes from a short dance sequence from her Timber video, which seems to have been inspired by several Disney movies. As Vivzie herself stated, that was an homage to the original animations. Lots of artists and shows do this, including the beloved Stephen Universe series.

Regardless, this doesn’t count as stealing character designs or plagiarising someone’s work. It’s meant to be respectful, an admiration of other projects. Other than these two instances, however, there is no evidence of her tracing or stealing other people’s art. From what I’ve discovered, all other designs she’s been accused of “stealing” are characters she bought and paid for. They’re quite literally HER characters.

7. Vivzie supports problematic creators.

I’m getting really tired of guilt by association. Vivzie follows and enjoys some controversial figures, but who cares? We can argue all day about whether or not the accusations against them are true, but it ultimately has nothing to do with the show or Vivzie as a person. I do the exact same thing, to be honest-- follow and listen to people on all sides so I can learn, understand, and form my own opinions. The fact that some people think this is bad, to me, is absolutely mesmerising. Vivzie doesn’t control what the people she follows post, and if they do something overly questionable she publicly criticises and denounces it.

From Vivzie:

Now that that’s been dealt with, I’d like to address some complaints/claims about the actual show.

8. Vaggie is an angry Latina stereotype and a lesbian stereotype. Vivzie is appropriating Hispanic culture and misrepresenting the gay for profit.

First off, I see a lot of people passing around yet more misinformation regarding Vivzie's race. So many people seem to think she's white? Well, I'm here to tell you they're wrong. Very incorrect. Vivzie is in fact Latina, and Vaggie is meant to mirror some of her own personality traits.

Second, who is Vaggie mad at? Context matters, and if we take a look at the episode, we see that Vaggie is literally only mad at two specific people: Angel Dust and Alastor. Why? Well, for starters, it's her girlfriend's dream to run a rehab hotel for sinners, and Angel Dust nearly demolishes that dream single-handedly. Vaggie has every right to be over-the-top vitriolic. Then there's Alastor, a known sadist, narcissist, and murderer who loves trapping people in his nefarious schemes. He invites himself in, effectively takes over the hotel, and pushes both her and Charlie aside. At one point he even sexually assaults her by slapping her butt during his musical number. So yeah, I think her seething ire is totally justified. Keep in mind, however, that when she's around Charlie she's calm, collected, and happy. I wouldn't call that a stereotype.

Thirdly, the lesbian stereotypes. I keep hearing this argument but I really don't see it. Both Vaggie and Charlie have so much personality and trust for each other. Maybe I'm wrong, but the stereotype I know always totes a more butch, tomboyish woman with a ditsy, innocent, naive woman. Charlie is optimistic, but she isn't stupid. She refuses to shake Alastor’s hand because she knows he’s likely trying to screw her over. She’s also not entirely innocent herself and uses words like “fuck” and “shit”. I also wouldn’t call Vaggie butch or tomboyish. She has a cute, girly presentation, complete with a pink ribbon in her hair, lace stockings, and a dress. She's protective of her girlfriend, as I think we all are with our partners, and there's nothing wrong with that. They're flawed characters, as every character is meant to be. This isn't a problem.

9. The show is racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic, blah, blah, blah.

I’m amazed this is even an argument. The show is supposed to be a dark comedy that takes place in HELL. You know, the place the worst of the worst end up after they die? What were you expecting? Everyone gets a shot or two fired at them, but that doesn't make them bad characters nor does it make the show itself horrible. Take, for example, Katie Killjoy, the news reporter so many people are up in arms about. She says she doesn’t “touch the gays” because she has “standards”. Well, here’s a newsflash of my own: we’re not supposed to like her! She’s an antagonist. Not to mention ten seconds later Charlie insults her and isn’t the least bit slighted by her pretentious attitude. The characters are strong and don’t take shit from anyone, because to some degree they’re all terrible people who can throw down when it’s called for.

Obviously if you don’t like the show or think it’s offensive, I’m probably not going to change your mind. That’s perfectly fine. You’re entitled to your opinions and you don’t have to watch the show. Just stop lying and stop trying to take it away from everybody else. Stop attacking Vivzie and spreading misinformation without checking the facts. I realise a lot of people probably aren’t trying to be vindictive and only want to do something good, but just remember this: the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

#hazbin hotel #vivziepop #vivzie #alastor #angel dust #vaggie #charlie #timber #stephen universe #drama #radio demon

[andilovetowrite]

Party Favors P.P

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: When trying to convince Peter to go to a party with you, a few secrets are revealed about a certain web-slinger’s crush, with your dad hanging onto every word. Total fluff here, guys!

Using the prompt: “come on, I can’t go to the party alone!”

Warnings: Nothing terrible, a swear word or two, I think. Just a lot of Flustered!Peter….. Oh, and Liz Allen being a prominent wing woman. Some suggestiveness as well. Sprinkles of angst but ends in fluff

Posted: April 30, 2021

Word Count: 3.2k

Here is my Masterlist in case you wanna read some more work of mine. Also, my requests are open :)

“Pleaseee”, you pleaded, begging your best friend, “pretty please?” Peter Parker, the neighbour hood’s protector, Spiderman, an Avenger and your best friend stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed while he indignantly shook his head.

“Nope. Now way Y/N”

“C’mon, Pete. Just one time? Please, please, please?”

Peter sighed, raising his chocolate brown eyes to meet your Y/E/C eyes. “Is it necessary? Like life and death?”

“Yes! It is! Well, it saves lives and prevents death. And I need your help with this.”

Peter pursed his lips, looking a whole lot like a family member of yours you recently spoke to. “What’s in it for me?”

“Well, for starters, payback… Like the time I had to tell the press that ‘intern’ Peter Parker was doing a brilliant job working for my dad.”

“Yeah, I guess. But could you blame me? Y/N Stark saying to the world that I do a great job working as an intern was a sure way to make Flash shut up.”

“Ah, I get it. You’re just using me for my name!” you said, clasping a hand to your chest, faking hurt. Pretending to wipe off a tear, you whispered sorrowfully, “Another one bites the dust…”

“Uh-huh. And we are sure the amazing Y/N Stark didn’t have fun winding up Flash the next day at school when you strolled in and gave me an Intern Of The Month award in front of him?”

You laughed, remembering the moment fondly. “That was one of your better plans…”

Then you snapped out of your memories, smiling slightly. “Nuh-uh. You don’t get to make me reminisce about cute stories and get out of this deal. It’s happening.”, you said, gesturing to the two of you.

Peter groaned, falling back on your chair. “Dang it. I thought that would distract you for a while. But seriously? Do you want me to get killed?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, walking over to him. “Nobody is going to kill you! The party is at Liz’s house, and you’re Spiderman! Nobody can kill you.” For some reason, Peter face flushed pink when you mentioned Liz’s name.

But then he retorted. “Well, I’m not worried about our classmates. Or my enemies. I’m worried about… Mr Stark.” Peter said this almost worriedly, looking around, eyes locking onto his suit, which he grabbed, throwing it up into his attic.

Doubling over in laughter at his expression, you shakily walked over to your bed, jumping on it. “Why- why would you be afraid of my dad?!”

“Well, he specifically said you aren’t allowed to go to parties, but you want me to go with you to one of the biggest parties of the year.”

“Okay, well… that’s the reason you are coming with me. My dad said, and I quote. If one, just one, smart person attends that party, then you are allowed to go. And that’s where you come in. You are the ‘smart person!”

Peter chuckled, scratching the back of his neck, obviously relieved. “Uh, I don’t think that’s what he meant.”

“Oh, I know. But we are Starks. We never mean what we say.”, you say, backhandedly. “So, are you in?”

“Y/N, you know I love you, but…”

“Peter. I’m so sorry I have to do this, but… I’m going to have to use the best friend card.”

Peter gasped, looking at you in shock. “No, you didn’t.”

“Well, come on, I can’t go to the party alone!” you exclaim, jumping on the bed.

“Why can’t you go alone?”

“Why don’t you like parties?” you shoot back, turning to look at him, admiring the small clusters of freckles that adorn his face.

“I-I like parties. Just not Liz Allen’s parties.”

“Oh really?” you say, propping yourself up on your elbows, “that’s not what I heard when you and Ned went to her party in Freshmen year.”

“That… was different.”

Smiling victoriously, you let out a giggle. “Sure it wassss” He turned bright red again, turning away from you. You felt a pang in your heart, wondering why he was acting strange. “Wait, Peter, do you still like her?” You asked this, feeling your stomach sink down.

He flipped around so quickly; you. were sure he could’ve broken something. “No, NO, not at all.”

You squinted, trying to figure out what was wrong, but gave it up, vowing to figure it out later. “Alright, so will you come with me to the party?”

Peter looked at me, breaking into a grin. “Of course, I shall accompany you to the party, m’lady.”

“Well, thank you so much, my good man.”, you said in a horrible British accent. He smiled at me, his eyes crinkling as he glowed in the evening light. And as the two of you laughed, falling back into the bed, you wondered if you should tell Peter that you liked him.

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

Soon, the day of the party arrived, and you honestly couldn’t wait for it. You bought a short dark blue dress, pairing it with some golden accessories and a pair of sneakers. Slipping them on, you headed into the driveway, making sure no one was around before activating your suit, flying off the ground and to Peter’s house. As you arrived, you knocked on the door, shifting from side to side, worried if you had worn too much for a casual party, but you were pleasantly surprised to see Peter dressed up nicely, dark blue jeans and a white shirt, a comfy sweater hanging off his shoulders.

“Woah,” Peter said, looking at you with adoration in his eyes, “you look amazing Y/N!”

You blushed, looking down. “Thanks, Pete, you look great as well.” Peter became red at your comment, not saying anything but holding his arm out to you instead. Looping your elbow through his, you went down to the car where May was going to take you to Liz’s house.

Arriving there, the music was blaring loud, the clinks of glass bottles in the air, while about 50 students and friends stood around the vast house, chatting and drinking.

“Hey guys!” Liz greeted, smiling warmly at us. “Come on in. We have drinks and snacks at the pool, DJ in the living room and a game of truth or dare upstairs.”

“Let’s do truth or dare”, you said, looking at Peter to see if it was alright. He nodded, letting Liz lead the way. Walking upstairs, we came into a guest bedroom, where about ten,eople were sitting in a circle, looking totally wasted.

“Is there alcohol?”, you asked, worried.

Liz laughed. “No no, they just all gotta act drunk. Gave them the dare.”

“Ah alright.” Peter said, glancing at me. Going over, you sat down, seated between Flash and Peter.

“Heyy Penis Parker. Hey there Stark.” He said, spitting out Peter’s fun nickname, but said yours flirtatiously. Almost glaring at him, you muttered back.

“Hello, Flash. What horrible thing are you doing on this evening?”

“Oh, nothing much. Just wondering why you walked in with Penis Parker here and not someone who can actually handle you. And your wealth and fame.”

Scoffing, you turn towards Peter, whose face is almost red with fury. You could see him clenching his fists, which he rarely does. You knew he was minutes away from punching Flash, but you didn’t want to make a whole scene, so you did something you never would have thought to do.

You grabbed Peter’s hand and kissed the back of it, leaning into him. You felt him tense behind you, breathing heavily. “Well Flash, who else would I come with if not the guy I have a crush on? Only seems fair rather than someone who makes a fool out of your best friend.”

Flash’s eyes went wide, looking between Peter and you, but then he cackled. Yeah, you said cackled. It’s what it sounds like. He doubled over, hitting his knee. “No way. I love this. Y/N Stark making Peter Parker, an intern of her multi-billion dollar father, and pretending to date him! There is no way in hell Penis Parker could get someone like you.” Flash said this maliciously, glaring at Peter.

You felt Peter lose his crip on you, taking in a sharp intake of air. “He’s right”, Peter whispered softly into your ear, his voice shaky and choked.

“Peter no!”, but it was too late. He stood up, walking out of the room at lightning speed. You glared at Flash but didn’t wait around, instead of running to find Peter. You ran to the stairs, where you saw him ask MJ where Liz was. Confused why he might want to talk to Liz, you walked down the stairs, staying out of his sights for the moment. You followed him as he walked into Liz’s room, leaving the door ajar. Tiptoeing to stand outside the room, you leaned against the wall, trying to make out what Peter was saying to Liz.

Peter’s POV

I ran down the stairs, quickly asking MJ where Liz was. I could hear someone’s heartbeat loud and clear, but I just assumed that it was my own. Ugh, I hate Flash. But it’s not like he was wrong. Y/N wouldn’t ever like me. She was just being a good friend by sticking up for me to a guy I should’ve beaten up long ago. I could feel my teeth grit together as I walked to Liz’s bedroom, knocking.

“Hey Peter, what’s wrong?”

I wiped my eyes on the back of my hand. Explaining to her what happened, she sat me down on the bed, rubbing my back. I could see the fury in her eyes when I told her about Flash.

“I have half a mind to go out and kick him out of my house.”

“It’s fine. But how do I tell her?”

Liz thought for a moment, and then lowered her voice down a bit, quickly glancing over to the door. Scruching my eyebrows, I wondered why she was now whispering but went along with it.

“Why don’t you pretend I’m Y/N. Tell her how you feel. Trust me, she will say yes.”

“Uh okay”, I said, not having too much of a problem, since I had this infront of the mirror dozens of times. “Hey-y. I just wanted to tell you something. I really really like you!”

“Louder”, Liz said, looking at me then at the door.

“Um, I really like you. Well, not just like. I literally love you. I love the way that you are sweet and charming, but also hard and firm. You look like a goddess, whether you are working out or going out in the city. Whenever you come over next to me, my senses go crazy because I am just so in love with you. I know you probably don’t think of me this way, but I had to get it off my chest.”

I finished rambling, when I saw Liz’s wide eyes. “Why? Was that too much?” I was worried, standing up quick.

Liz saw my expression, shaking her head hard. “No no, you’re good. But you gotta come with me right now. I-um know a way to get you and Y/N to like each other by the end of today”

Grabbing my hand, she pulled me up, pulling me quickly through the crowd, into a small closet at the end of the hall. “Okay, wait here”, she said, running off. I stood there, bouncing from side to side, wondering what Liz was doing. But I got my answer quite quickly when she ran back, basically pulling Y/N. “Come here!”, she said, pushing her to me.

“Okay, guys. I hope you two don’t hate me but this has to be done”, was all Liz said before she threw open the door behind us, pushing us both in with shocking strength and closing us in darkness. I reached to open the door but found it locked.

Y/N’s POV

Peter looked at the door, then glanced back at me. “It’s locked”, he said simply, scratching his neck, something he did when he was nervous.

“No shit sherlock. But did you forget, you are Spiderman? Just break it.”

He shook his head, mumbling something about not wanting to break Liz’s stuff. You rolled your eyes, sighing. You rummaged through your pocket, finding a small hairpin. Pushing him aside, you jammed it in, nudging it around until you heard a little click.

“There, it’s now open”, you said sarcastically, leaning back.

“Woah, I’ve never seen you do that!”

“Yeah, well, I don’t usually break open locks, do I?”

Peter picked up on your attitude, leaning back as well, sitting on the floor, making me look at him expectantly.

“Why don’t you just go back to your girlfriend?” you said bitterly, turning away from Peter. He scrunched his eyebrows, confused.

“What girlfriend?” he asked, trying to make space in the small closet.

“Liz. I heard you telling her how much you loved her earlier. An entire freaking speech if I remember correctly.”

He looked confused until his eyes lit up in recognition. “Wait-you thought, what- me and Liz, huh?”

“Yeah, aren’t you and Liz together? Or did she turn you down?”

Peter chuckled, eyes softening as he looked at me. “I don’t love Liz. I don’t even like her. What you heard earlier was Liz helping me out. Practising if you might.”

“Who was Liz pretending to be?”, you asked, disappointed.

“Well, she is smart, kind, badass and absolutely ethereal. She has such a strong spirit and is great at bringing people up. I have loved her for three years. Which, ironically, is how much time we have been best friends. By the way, her dad’s also Tony Stark”, Peter says this, coming closer to you, one hand coming up to hold your cheek gingerly. Searching in your eyes for confirmation, he leaned closer slowly, giving you enough time if you wanted to move away, but you didn’t, instead of moving up the last few inches and making your lips collide with his.

Time stopped as you pressed your lips together, hand finding its way to his curls, roughly holding on to them, while Peter held your waist, not wanting to let you go. You could’ve kissed Peter forever, but the need for oxygen became too much.

Pulling away from Peter, you rested your forehead on his, smiling contently. “I love you”, Peter whispered, cupping your face lightly, holding you at arm’s length.

Giving a small laugh at his nervousness, you kissed him softly, feeling him relax against you. “I love you too, Peter Parker.”

Peter grinned back at me with his signature smile, but the moment ended when we heard a loud bang from outside. “What the hell?” you exclaimed, running to the door; Peter following your footsteps. You could see Peter from the corner of your eye pull his shirt back slightly, revealing a pair of web-shooters he had underneath. Pushing a hand inside your pocket, you could feel the silver ring you carried with you. Slipping it on, you held your thumb over it, waiting for the moment to activate your suit. But when you and Peter burst outside, hands up to fight, you saw your dad, pacing the area, right now talking to a very scared looking Flash.

“Where is my daughter? You have one minute until I blast you off the face of this planet. And trust me when I say it, because bitch please, I’ve been to space.”

Covering your mouth with your hand to stifle your laughter, you walked closer, coming up behind your dad. “I think I might know where your daughter is”, you say in a solemn voice.

Tony whirled around quickly, looking you up and down. Pulling me into a hug for a second, he let go as soon as he did, holding you at arm’s length. “Why the heck are you at this party?!” he asked firmly.

“Well, dear father, you did say that at least one smart person had to be at this party, and that’s why,” you moved out of your dad’s grip, pushing Peter forward, “he is here.”

Peter came forward awkwardly, waving at Tony. “Hey, Mr Stark. How are you and Ms Potts?”

Tony nodded at Peter, clasping his hand on his shoulder. “We’re fine, Underoos. How are you and my daughter? You didn’t try anything with her, did you?”

Peter spluttered, mumbling at your dad. “N-n,o of course not Mr Stark. I-I respect and lo-love your daughter very much. We just kissed for a bit- and I mean, it felt terrific- wait, that’s not why I’m with her. I’m not wi-with her for her beauty. I mean-she i-is beautiful, but I don’t want that. Wait-uh-”

Giggling at what Peter was saying, you threaded your fingers through his own, squeezing them to give him some strength and to tell him to shut up before he said anything else. Tony sighed, giving an ‘I’m too old for this shit’ face.

“Okay, thank you for telling me about your love life, kiddo, but I’d rather not hear it. Both of you, meet me in the car. We can stay at the compound today, and I’ll tell Happy to text May.”

Tony turned around, walking to the car, while you and Peter stood there in shock. “Do you think he’ll let us sleep in the same room?” you asked Peter, nudging him playfully.

“NO”, your dad shouted from across the street, turning to look back at Peter, doing the ‘I’m watching you’ sign. Peter visibly gulped from beside you, making you chuckle.

“Hey! Peter, Y/N!” Liz called out, running from inside the house. “I saw your dad. Are you heading home?”

Nodding defeatedly, you confirmed it. She smiled lightly before telling us to wait here, running back in. In a minute, she ran back out, a small bag in each hand. “Here, a small return gift.”

“Aw, thanks, Liz!” Peter said, smiling at her.

She smirked. “You’ll like it even better when you find out what I put in yours, Peter. For a fact, both of you can use it.” She winked at us, making me worried.

“Wait, you what did you-”

“Face masks. Get your mind out of the gutter Y/N”, Liz said, laughing. Peter scoffed from beside me, laughing as well.

“Anyway, gotta go, Liz. See you at school.” Hugging the girl goodbye, you and Peter made your way to the car.

“That was nice of Liz”, Peter commented, looking up at the stars.

“Yeah, but I got my party favour”, you said simply, putting your hand in Peter’s, pulling him down to give him one sweet kiss under the night sky.

“HEY HEY HEY, NO KISSING INFRONT OF ME!” Tony yelled from the car.

“Wait, how did Mr Stark know we're together?”

“YOUR SUIT OBVIOUSLY!”, Tony yelled, getting the car upfront.

Peter groaned, banging his head against the window. “I knew it!”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Thanks for reading this, guys! Hope you enjoyed this small fic. I loved writing it, plus it’s one of my longest ones, so expect more one-shots like this. See you till the next one!

#peter parker x reader imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker x bestfriend reader #peter parker #confessions #tony stark #stark reader #avenger reader #smut #peter parker fluff #angst #peter parker smut #angst with a Happy ending #may #liz allen

[earthblooded]

Just a drink - Rayllum Modern AU

Rayllum - Modern AU

Rating: M

Warning: Suggestions to adult-themed content, but nothing explicit.

Synopsis: Rayla's roommate, Nyx, convinces her to take a break from work for a night out, leading to a fun night, but eventual regret.

This is a fic that's been in my head for way longer than any other fic I've written for TDP but I never really had the time or energy to write it. I still technically don't have the time to write it, but I sure did find the energy tonight.

It'll probably turn into a multi-chap fic at some point, but I'll hold off uploading to ao3 until I intend to do so

“C’mon Rayla, you work yourself to death.”

Rayla sighed, leaning away from her laptop. She wasn’t a workaholic as many people pegged her to be, she just liked to keep herself busy. Getting any work done was becoming more and more challenging with her roommate breathing down her neck. This was the fourth time she had asked her to go out drinking.

“I can’t Nyx, it’s a Sunday and I need to be up early for work tomorrow.” Rayla chewed on her lip, glancing at the time – 8 pm – she still had time to get some reports finished before an early night.

“Well, everyone says Sunday is the new Friday, so maybe you should just come out.”

She stopped typing to raise her eyebrow, casting a skeptical look at her friend. “Who says that?”

“People.” Nyx answered, before waving her hand dismissively, “and anyway, you need the time to chill out. You’ve clearly been stressed because you keep snapping at me about dumb stuff.”

Rayla considered this, wincing when she recalled several occasions on that same day she had been short with Nyx about housekeeping, turning off music, her poor habits... “Fine, I’ll come out, but you can’t pester me about this again for another month.”

“Deal.”

Rayla gave her a week to break that deal.

____________________________________________________

“I thought we we’re just going for drinks.” Rayla said, as they queued to get into a club.

“I think they do drinks here.” Nyx nodded, pointing to a poster for drink deals on the wall. “Look, 2 for 1 on shots.”

“You know what I mean – like beer in the local, not clubbing.” Rayla watched a group of young women staggered out, giggling. “Nyx, you know I hate this, please can we go somewhere else?”

“No was Jose. You’re going to let loose tonight and tomorrow you will thank me.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

_____________________________________________________

Heaviness was the only word she could use to describe how she felt waking up the next day, her ringtone blaring in her ear. She wasn’t hungover, she barely drank anything, but she was tired – having arrived home at ridiculous-o-clock.

Home... no not quite, she realised, as she opened her eyes. Her bedroom didn’t have stacks of canvases and paint pots on every available surface. She sat up suddenly as her eyes scanned the room, trying to identify anything familiar to give her a clue as to where she was. Her clothing was scattered about the floor, her purse and contents among them. Light cast in through floor-to-ceiling windows, adorned with vine plants wrapping around the curtain poles. Sheer white curtains hung from them.

She pulled the duvet around her shoulders, feeling exposed despite still wearing underwear. She had a fairly good inkling as to what happened but there was one thing missing...

“Oh, you’re awake!”

Ahh. This is what happened.

She was greeted by a man in the doorway of the room, his brown hair ruffled, pupils blown wide as he regarded her and his t-shirt neckline was askew revealing the pink mark she had left him on his collarbone. This along with the state of the room, painted a fairly clear image of what had happened, even to those not involved.

In his hands, he held a tray with a small French-press, a couple of mugs and a plate of some sort of pastry. He crossed the room, setting down the tray on the bedside table as he sat opposite her.

“Coffee?” He offered, pouring a mug.

“Hmm,” she smiled, accepting it. As their fingers brushed, her mind flashed to the night before – his breath in her ear, lips on her skin, hands and body tending to her needs – she shifted uncomfortably as she felt that same heat rise up in her again. “Is this how you treat all the girls you bring home?” She asked, her eyebrow raised.

“I’ve never really had a one-night stand, so no... but maybe I’ll start.”

“Oh, just the one night we’re having, is it?” Rayla said, feigning offence. She’d never felt so bold before, but with this guy, she felt comfortable.

“Not if I can help it.” he replied, his eyes landing on her lips as he leaned forward.

Rayla’s ringtone blared again and the man’s head dropped into the crook of her neck as he groaned. She laughed, consoling him by smoothing down his shaggy hair as she picked up her phone.

Nyx was calling... holy shit 6 missed calls.

Her eyes flicked to the clock in the corner of the screen – 8am.

“Shit!” Rayla sprang free from his embrace and his lips on her neck. She bundled her clothing in her arms and hurried to the door. “I’m sorry, I have to go - I need to go home and change before work.”

“Wait, what about your coffee?”

“Sorry... you drink mine. You’ll need it after the night we had.” Really not the time to flirt right now, Rayla she chastised herself, lingering by the door as she watched him rise to protest further.

“What about breakfast? My aunt always said that breakfast was the most important meal of the day.” He raised an eyebrow, in an attempt to tempt her... and it almost worked.

“I don’t have time. I’m sorry – we'll do this another time and we’ll have breakfast, okay?” He sighed, but nodded in agreement. “Great, where’s your bathroom?”

Rayla came out a few moments later, having dressed and made herself semi-presentable for the commute back to the apartment. She found the man in the hallway, a brown bag in his hand held out to her.

“What’s this?”

“You should never miss breakfast.” He smiled, placing the bag into her waiting hand. “Here’s yours, to go.”

___________________________________________________

It was almost 10am and Rayla was sat in her office, staring at the reports she had yet to finish. The ones she should have finished last night if Nyx hadn’t have dragged her away.

Nyx. Rayla had just enough time to change and freshen up when she got back before heading to the office, but hadn’t caught up with Nyx yet.

The dial tone rang twice before she picked up.

“Oh, my gods, Rayla?”

“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t have time to call you back and you weren’t home when I got in.”

“I went to work early. Are you okay?” She asked, but gave little time for Rayla to answer before she continued. “When you didn’t answer for the fourth time last night, I assumed you’d been kidnapped. Police said I had to wait 24 hours before reporting you missing.” She grumbled the last part and Rayla shook her head in amusement. Rayla felt lucky to have someone who cared so much for her, even if she was a bit ridiculous sometimes.

“Sorry for worrying you. I was with a...” she grimaced, knowing full well how Nyx would react “guy.”

Nyx squealed on the other end, but Rayla knew to hold the phone away from her ear and had prepared in time. “Tell me everything! Who is he?”

“Some guy from the club.”

“What’s his name?”

“I don’t know”

“Okay... great.” She said sarcastically. “Well, I know you never ever put out on the first night, so what happened? Were you drunk?”

“No, Nyx, I had that one tequila shot you forced me to drink and that it.” Rayla heard a knock at the door, and glanced up to see Soren wave at her through the window. She raised a finger, indicating she just needed a minute. “Look, I promise I’ll tell you everything later. I need to get back to work.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Nyx said before hanging up.

Rayla sighed – telling Nyx was definitely a mistake she’d live to regret.

“Hey Soren, come in.”

“Happy Monday, boss.” Soren said, striding in, as chipper as he always was. He was her second-in-command in their team. His up-beat attitude meant that she delegated a lot of the more hands-on work to him, while she worked on the nitty-gritty in the background. “New guy is here; you want me to send him in?”

Recruitment wasn’t something that she usually delegated to Soren – she had little faith in his judgement based on his previous hires – however, she was called away to other meetings on the day of interviews and so the responsibility fell to Soren, begrudgingly.

Rayla picked up the neat stack of documents on her desk, ready for the new recruit to sign his life away. “Yes, please – Callum, is it?” She read from the contract at the top of the pile.

Soren nodded, beckoning the new starter in. From her peripheral, she saw Callum walk into the room and she raised her head to greet him.

“Callum, sorry I missed the...” she trailed off as familiar forest-green eyes met hers. He was a lot more put together than he was a mere two hours ago – his hair smoothed tidily, the shirt and jacket concealed any marks of passion. His expression stayed neutral but Rayla saw the recognition flash in his eyes as they swept over her.

She fought back a shudder as the heat rose in her again but before her mind ran wild with memories, she realised how wrong it all was. She was in trouble.

#rayllum #tdp #okay next priority is gtte #i promise! #it's gone midnight over here though so right now imma sleep #the dragon prince #my fic #tomorrow I will work on gtte some more #just needed to get this out there bc it was driving me crazy

[nerdqueenmari]

mari’s master blog list

@livingisharderz - DBZ multimuse

@plethoraofpokegals - Pokemon multimuse

@prettyguardianjustice - Sailor Moon multimuse

@duelsfordays - Yu-Gi-Oh! multimuse

@notsomerciful - Saiyuki multimuse

@notaprincessaqueen - miscellaneous multimuse (POTC mainly)

@westerosiqueens - Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire multimuse

@spacebabeswithguns - Star wars multimuse

@womenofwestworld - Westworld multimuse

@queensofsmut - sideblog featuring characters from the above sfw blogs that I’m willing to write smut with 

my rules!

Rules/About

Cliffnotes version: Please don’t be a dick, and tell me if you have a problem with something.

nerdqueenmari is the hub/personal blog from which all of my follows, likes, and comments will come. You are welcome to follow whichever of my blogs you like, but be aware that if you are mutuals only and you do not follow this blog, I may be unable to tell if we are or are not mutuals, so I may inadvertently unfollow you on a blog cleanup.

I am an impulsive roleplayer who follows the inspiration. I try to stay on top of my drafts and ongoing threads, but if you roleplay with me, you need to be ready to be patient. I am a human being who suffers from anxiety and depression, and real life concerns and needs will always take precedence over roleplay.

I am picky. I do my best to be friendly and open to everyone, but I am selective about who makes it into my “regular” circle and from there into my squad. If we don’t click, we don’t click, and that’s okay - I’m not going to be offended, but I do expect that we will treat each other with mutual courtesy.

I try to stay on top of my notifications. With tumblr being as unreliable as it is, it is entirely possible that I have missed or accidentally overlooked your attempt to interact with me. It’s okay to message me to ask about the status of something, as long as it’s just a gentle reminder, and not a passive aggressive attempt to get me to prioritize your thread or something. If you have a habit of poking me in a way that is stressful, I will simply not respond. Please be respectful when asking me about something.

Please don’t ask me if I want to RP with you. I probably do, but the question itself makes me really nervous, though, because I’m never quite sure how to answer. Please read over my rules and send a starter, tag or meme! If you aren’t sure how our characters would meet, it’s okay to message me, but I’d prefer an ask that I can respond to without the anxiety that comes with being in any instant messaging format.

You do not need to comply with any particular format of posting or writing to roleplay with me. I generally do not format posts, though I do trim longer posts and try not to reblog asks directly. You are more than welcome to use icons or not, although be aware that I am likely not to. #lazy

I welcome threads of any length, so never feel like you have to send me a multi-para reply or like you can’t expand a quickie/one-liner if the situation seems right for it. As with being an impulsive roleplayer, I think it’s more important to keep things moving than to necessarily match length and style. Longer replies WILL take me longer, so if you prefer multi-para/novella, please be aware that our rp together is likely going to be very slow.

I follow the “yes, and” and “no, but” philosophies of roleplaying. If you don’t give me anything to work with, the thread is going to get dropped.

I will not be offended if you drop a thread with me or let me know you’re not interested in something I proposed. Roleplay is meant to be fun, and we are all responsible for our own online experiences; if one of us isn’t on board with something, then we should try something else!

General Shipping Rules

Chemistry and canon are the bywords here. If there is a feasible canon basis for shipping a thing, then I will ship the thing and write that ship with few exceptions (noted on a muse by muse basis as necessary). If there is no canon basis for shipping a thing, but we have noticed that the muses in question have good chemistry, I will probably ship the thing and write that ship.

NSFW

I am 21+, and comfortable with most things. I do attempt to always tag anything NSFW. Smut takes place on my smut sideblog @queensofsmut

I do not follow minors and would prefer that minors not follow me. I am a lot older than you guys and paling around with you just makes me feel skeevy.

#masterpost #blog list #rp #my blogs #reference #save

[bellakitse]

the world spin off its axis, when we kiss

Carlos has a crush on the new paramedic on his best friend's team. 

for the anon who said EMT TK, this is for you.

Carlos meets Michelle’s new crew member on a Tuesday when answering a call to a multi-car pile up. He’s heard about the guy before from Michelle, the son of the new fire captain of the 126, both down from New York. When Michelle spoke of his skill, she didn’t immediately dismiss him, which going by his friend's high standards when it comes to the job; it meant the guy was probably a damn good paramedic. With Michelle Blake, you have to learn to read between the lines.

He’s known about the guy for about a month before he actually meets him. Now all Carlos knows as he stares at the paramedic, is that he and Michelle are going to have words later. She’s his best friend; it’s her duty to tell him if she starts working with the most perfect guy he’s ever laid eyes on before. Letting him stumble upon him with no prep time, is going against the best friend code, and he has half a mind to demand his friendship bracelet back.

Carlos secures the scene; the new fire captain has gotten his crew to pry open the cars needed, and then Michelle and her team – including sex on a stick, though his uniform says his name is TK Strand –  get to work on the injured.

Carlos watches as he talks to the young woman he’s working on, his voice calm and soothing, he can see even from where he’s standing that the woman has gone from panicked to downright swooning over TK.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asks the young woman as he checks her for injuries.

“Sara.”

“Okay, Sara, I’m TK, I’m going to take care of you, you’re going to be okay,” TK smiles down at the girl, and Carlos thinks he hears her sigh. He tells himself it’s pathetic to be jealous over a poor girl who’s just been in a car accident.

TK wraps up with Sara pretty quickly, loading her onto one of the ambulances ready to take her to the hospital before moving on to assist Nancy with the last least injured person. The rest of the crew is already packing up their things, ready to move on now that the situation has been resolved.

Carlos feels someone slide up next to him, and he doesn’t have to turn to know it’s Michelle.

“He’s good, right?” she questions, there is a hint of smugness to her voice. Of course, she already knows what he’s scoping out.

Carlos turns his head to watch her, he’s not at all surprised by the smirk on her face. “How could you not warn me?”

Michelle raises an eyebrow at him, her face is the picture of innocence, but he knows better than to believe that as he looks into her devilish blue eyes. “Warn you about what?”

“You know what, chica!” he hisses, blushing a little when he realizes he’s louder than he would like. Michelle’s team, including her newest and prettiest, look over at them, and Carlos can feel an instant spark as his eyes lock with TK’s bottle-green ones.

Jesus Christ, those are some pair of knock-out eyes.

Michelle chuckles that throaty laugh of hers, her eyes dancing with amusement at his expense. She leans in to whisper to him. “I knew the second I saw him you’d be into him,” she grins with the enjoyment that only comes with over a decade of friendship. “You and your thing for pretty boys.”

Carlos tries to frown at her, hating how easy he is to read, but damn it, he’s always had a weakness for a pretty face, and TK’s is the prettiest he’s ever seen. “Please tell me he has a shitty personality or horrible hygiene.”

Michelle’s smile grows as she shakes her head. “Nope,” she answers, making the ‘p’ pop. “He’s one of the sweetest kids I’ve ever worked with, happy, hard-working, knowledgeable, and always minty-fresh.”

Carlos swallows the groan stuck in his throat, and he can’t help but think he’d love to lick his way into that minty fresh mouth. “I hate you.”

Michelle laughs at him again, placing a hand on his shoulder as she leans in. “Love you too, Carlitos,” she says, pressing a kiss on his cheek. “Wanna know what else?”

Carlos tries to hold out, he hates giving her the upper hand, but he still caves. It’s an immediate and physical need how badly he wants to know everything about TK. What does he like, what does he dislike, would he enjoy Carlos cooking for him, what would his hand feel like in his, he wants to know it all. “Yes, damn it,” he blurts out, rolling his eyes at her smug expression.

“He’s very single,” she starts, her smile grows slowly and thoroughly. “And, he might have asked me who a particular cop was; the other day at that house fire, we responded too.”

Carlos’ eyes widen at her comments before he looks over at TK. He startles, his body jerking when he finds TK’s eyes already on him. He and Nancy are by their truck waiting on their Captain, but TK’s eyes are locked on him. He feels his gaze like a soft touch, his body reacting to it instantly.

TK doesn’t look away from him now that he’s been caught; instead, he continues to study Carlos with a questioning expression on his face, the hint of a smile on his lips that grows the longer Carlos looks back at him.

Michelle lets out another soft sound next to him before she pats his shoulder and starts to walk towards her crew. Carlos watches as they get their gear and climb into their truck. TK jumps in last, and at the last second, he turns to look back at Carlos flashing a smile at him with a wink.

Well, fuck.

 ֍֎֍

 The second time they run into each other on a call is a small house fire started after a dispute. Carlos has just put the fire starter in his wagon when TK steps up next to him.

“Hey.”

Carlos jumps, surprised that TK is talking to him. It’s been four days since the car accident, and Carlos hasn’t been able to get the wink out of his head. What the fuck did it mean?

Michelle has taken to laughing at him every time she sees him. Finally, he had to threaten to never cook for her again for her to shut up. She still grins at him when he tries to get any information on her teammate out of her. She doesn’t tell him anything else though, even when he takes the enchiladas away, she tells him to stop being a wimp and to talk to the guy himself.

He doesn’t know how to explain that TK has stolen his breath away, and there’s a good chance he might pass out in his presence.

“Hey,” he greets back, blushing as it comes out strangled, he clears his throat and tries again. “How’s  it going?”

TK nods at him easily. “Pretty good, just some smoke inhalation and burned clothes, I can’t believe he lit her stuff on fire just because she broke up with him.”

Carlos makes a face as he agrees. “Some people are nuts.”

“True,” TK answers, looking over at the guy in the back of Carlos’ car and then back at him. “I’m TK, by the way.”

Carlos looks down at the hand he’s holding out for him, he shakes it trying not to shiver as his body zings from the touch, he looks into TK’s green eyes and finds them a shade darker than before. “Carlos.”

TK licks his lips; a slow, slightly teasing smile starts on those sinfully full pink lips. Carlos has to rein in the crazy urge to lean in and take that bottom lip between his teeth until it’s cherry-red. “Oh, I know.”

TK lets go of his hand but not before sliding his index finger over the inside of Carlos’ wrist, the reaction to his touch is instant, and Carlos can’t help the gasp he lets out as TK’s smile grows. It’s still playful, but there is also a softness to it.

He takes a backward step away from Carlos and then another, the smile never leaving his face. “Catch you later, Officer.”

 ֍֎֍

 The next call he sees him, TK murmurs a soft ‘Officer’ as his body brushes against Carlos’ to get through to the little boy who needs his attention.

Carlos has to tell his heart to slow the fuck down and his dick that now is not the time. He also tells Michelle to shut her smirking face if she ever wants to eat his pozole again.

He hates that she knows it’s an empty threat as she continues to laugh at him silently for his ridiculous crush on her crew member.

After they’re done with the scene, TK slides up to him again as he heads for his truck.

“I’ve never had pozole,” he says, giving Carlos a hopeful look before he continues to walk away when Carlos can’t find anything to say, even as his brain shouts at him to speak.

“That,” Michelle says as she comes up behind him, and Carlos closes his eyes at her tone, feeling like an idiot. “Is what one would call a missed opportunity.”

“Michelle –” he starts tiredly, turning around to face her.

She doesn’t look amused at his expense for once, but she also doesn’t look very impressed by him either. “He was giving you the green light. What you should have said is, ‘would you like to have dinner with me.’ Eight simple words, not freeze like you’ve never spoken to a cute boy before.”

“TK isn’t just any cute boy,” he whines.

He doesn’t know how to explain it. He’s a good looking guy, he has a good job, a nice apartment, and a hot car, he knows how to make things happen with men. He knows how to talk to them. Yet all TK has to do is lock those stunning green eyes on him, and he loses any game he has ever had.

“He’s – “ he lets out a frustrated sound as he gets stuck again. How does he even begin to explain that even though he’s only exchanged a few words and moments with the new paramedic, there is something inside Carlos that just knows this guy is going to be important to him in the most profound way. “He’s TK,” he finishes inadequately.

Michelle’s expression goes gentle, and he feels his face go hot from the look she gives him. “You really are the softest boy, darling,” she teases softly, chuckling when he rolls his eyes.

 ֍֎֍

 Michelle texts him to meet her at the bar. When he texts back that he’s had a long shift and just wants to go home to rest – and wallow about the fact that he didn’t ask TK to dinner – her answer is a simple ‘I wasn’t asking, just get here.’

The second he walks through the bar, the country music pumping as people line-dance he knows exactly why she made him show up.

TK is with his team, a mineral water in his hand and a smile on his face as he enjoys himself with his friends. He meets Michelle’s eyes as she waves him over with a plotting smile of her own.

Taking a deep calming breath, he makes his way towards the group.

“You made it,” she says happily as he gets to her side, he hugs her back when she leans into him.

“You kind of insisted chica,” he points out, getting a chuckle back from her. He looks over at TK, finding that his eyes are already on him before he looks away to sip on his water.

“You all know Officer Reyes by now, right?” she asks the group of firefighters and EMTs, most nod and smile in his direction, welcoming him to the group.

“Carlos,” he tells them just to make sure they don’t address him formally.

“I was just about to show the good Captain how to line-dance,” Michelle continues, smirking in Captain Strand’s direction. Carlos smiles, laughing silently, the man is caught off guard by the comment and obviously hasn’t learned yet how much Michelle Blake enjoys messing with people. “That is if he’s not too chicken.”

This time Carlos can’t help the snort that escapes his mouth; he’s friends with a shit-starter. He watches as the Captain follows Michelle to the dance floor, followed quickly by the rest of the team, leaving him alone with TK and the tension between them.

A few minutes pass without either of them speaking, every conversation starter dying at the tip of his tongue before the words get out.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?”

Carlos startles at the words, turning his head to look at TK, who looks back at him hesitantly as he fiddles around with the straw in his glass.

He licks his lips nervously.

“Yes,” he starts, quickly placing a hand on TK’s wrist when the word makes TK take a step away from him. “But not in the way you mean,” he continues, letting out a frustrated noise when the words don’t come out as smoothly as he would like. TK gives him a wary look in response, but he doesn’t pull away.

Carlos runs a hand through his hair, letting out a deep breath, the words still stuck in his throat. He jerks when TK pulls his arm from under his hand only to place it back on Carlos’ forearm, squeezing it reassuringly as he waits him out.

“It’s not uncomfortable,” he says quietly. “That’s the wrong word for this,” he waves a hand between them.

“What’s the right word?” TK questions softly. His eyes are patient and encouraging, and Carlos knows TK is feeling the same things he is.

“Exhilarating?” Carlos says more as a question, earning the first hints of a smile from TK.

“Breathtaking,” he continues gaining confidence.

“Distracting,” he says, looking at TK’s mouth. “You have no idea how badly I want to kiss you.”

TK takes in a sharp breath, his eyes going to Carlos’ mouth too before meeting his eyes, he continues to look at him for a moment, and Carlos can see the second a decision is made. He slides his hand down Carlos’ arm to his hand, linking their fingers as he pulls him away from the table.

Carlos follows, his heart beating loudly. He already knows where this is going, but he can’t quite believe it’s happening, even as TK takes him to the back of the bar, away from prying eyes. Or even as he spins around and pushes Carlos against a wooden wall. Even as he presses his body against him, his hands on Carlos’ chest as he tips his chin up, bringing his lips an inch away from his, Carlos can’t believe this is finally happening.

“Carlos,” TK whispers, his breath brushes against his mouth. Carlos hears the same need he’s been feeling in TK’s voice, and with a low groan, he finally takes what he’s been dying to taste.

TK’s mouth is soft and sweet, and there is a hint of lime on his lips. The breathy sound TK makes right before he parts his mouth under his, shoots straight to Carlos’ groin. He wants to be the cause of that noise from now on. With his hands on TK’s waist, he pulls him even closer until still, if he could, he would fuse them together. TK seems to agree as he wraps his arms around his neck, pulling himself up to make up for the small height difference between them. TK’s tongue dances against his, and it’s Carlos’ turn to groan as he turns his head to deepen the kiss even more.

They only pull back when air becomes a problem, and only after Carlos has tasted enough of TK’s mouth to know it’s his new favorite taste in the world. He’s going to need it in his life forever to be happy.

TK presses his forehead against his; his eyes are still closed as a full smile takes over his face, Carlos wants to lick it.

“I knew kissing you would make my world spin off its axis,” TK whispers, finally opening his eyes to look at Carlos, his expression is so open it makes him ache. “Never to be the same again.”

Carlos leans in again, brushing his lips against TK’s, this time, the kiss is softer as it feels like a promise.

He doesn’t need to say anything, as he completely agrees, nothing will ever be the same again now that he’s finally touched TK.

 ֍֎֍

 It’s kind of crazy how fast a day can go from good to bad. He sees TK twice during work. The first call is simple enough, the victim is fine other than some bruised ribs, and they’re all done in a matter of minutes, with enough time for TK to flash a teasing smile in his direction.

The second call, there’s a sense of trepidation before even pulling up to the scene.  They respond to a shooting at a convenience store, multiple shots fired, and multiple victims. Carlos and the rest of the APD responding have the scene secured when EMS arrives, rushing in to treat the victims.

TK and Michelle make their way to him and the store owner who’s on the floor bleeding out. He moves out of the way, removing his bloody hands from where he had been pressing down to try and stop the blood flow. He watches with growing dread as they get to work, hazily he feels someone push a towel into his hands so he can clean up. He’s seen enough gunshot victims to know this is probably not going to end well.

“Sir?” TK addresses the man in a sharp tone, as he makes quick work of cutting his shirt out of the way. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Robert,” Carlos tells them quietly, the man had managed to tell him before passing out. TK looks up at him with wide eyes. Carlos can see the worry in them for a moment before the mask of professionalism slips back on.

“Robert,” TK says, looking back down at him. “Can you open your eyes for me?”

Michelle, who has been pressing two fingers against Robert’s neck, shakes her head. “No pulse,” she says quickly, moving to unpack the defibrillator out.

“Starting compressions,” TK answers back, his hands over Robert’s chest.

Carlos watches as TK and Michelle work; each taking turns to do their part, minutes passing by with no response. Michelle pulls away the defibrillator. Her face is pinched as TK goes back to giving the man CPR, his gestures more forceful and frantic.

“Open your eyes, Robert!” TK shouts as he presses on the man’s chest, there is a desperate tone to his voice that makes Carlos ache for the man they’ve obviously lost, and for TK who can’t seem to stop trying to bring him back. “Come on!”

“TK – “ Michelle starts softly, her voice full of sadness.

“We can still save him,” TK snaps, hearing her resigned tone too.

Michelle places a hand over his working ones, stilling them, the look on her face full of sorrow. “He’s gone, TK.”

Carlos watches helplessly as TK drops his hands to his sides, bowing his head in complete defeat.

 ֍֎֍

 Carlos gets to the firehouse an hour after his shift is over. It had taken him a while to get cleaned up, write his report, and center himself. He spots Michelle right away with TK’s father, talking by one of the fire trucks.

Proving once again that she can read his mind, Michelle gives him an understanding smile and nods towards her rig when he walks up to them. “He’s keeping himself busy by restocking.”

Carlos bites down on his lip nervously. “Is he okay?” he asks, his eyes straying to the fire captain who is looking at him with curious eyes as it becomes apparent who Carlos is there to check up on.

Michelle nods, her expression soft and a reminder of why she’s the EMS captain. “It’s never easy losing someone, but he’s tough.”

Carlos nods back at her in agreement, looking over toward the back of the firehouse where a part of Michelle’s ambulance can be seen.

“I bet seeing you will make his day better, though,” Michelle continues with a pointed look.

Carlos half-smiles at her, giving her another nod, he turns to give one to Captain Strand, blushing as the man looks at him with comprehension, not precisely how he wanted the man to learn of his interest in his son.  He starts to walk away from them, but not before he hears the man question Michelle how long this has been going on, or Michelle's answering laugh.

He walks towards the back of the firehouse finding the EMS rig at the very end with the back doors closed, stepping up close; he goes to knock on the window just as the doors open forcefully.

“Ow,” he groans out as the door hits him in the face making him stagger back in pain, but mostly in shock.

“Carlos?” TK questions, his eyes going wide as he brings a hand to his face. “Oh my god,” he rushes forward, hopping off the truck. “I’m so sorry.”

Carlos winces through the pain while trying to wave away TK’s apology.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you,” TK apologizes again. “Here, sit,” he says as he places his hands on Carlos’ arms and leads him to take a seat on the tail end of the ambulance.

Once seated, he feels the vehicle move as TK jumps back in it for a moment before coming back down, placing supplies next to Carlos.

“Can you take your hand away so I can see?” TK asks him gently as he nudges at his knees so he can step in between them.

“It’s fine,” he swears, his voice muffled through his cupped hand.

TK huffs softly at him, a fond smile on his lips as he slowly pulls his hand off his face. With a hand under his chin, TK tilts Carlos’ face upward to examine it.

Carlos watches him as TK focuses on him; his touch is gentle as he takes hold of Carlos’ nose, pressing on it to see if it’s broken, even though they both know if it were, Carlos would be in a whole lot more pain. Instead, it’s a dull ache that is lessening by the second, especially with TK so close and touching him.

Tentatively he places his own hands on TK’s hips to steady him; the soft look TK gives him back as he takes a step even closer makes his heart skip a beat. He lets TK work, trying not to flinch when he wipes the little bit of blood he has under his nose with an alcohol swab

“What’s the verdict doc?” he quips, giving TK’s hips a squeeze. “Can you save my face?”

TK looks him over, letting out a contemplating noise before shaking his head. “I’m afraid there’s no saving it,” he answers, looking at Carlos with fake sadness. “The good news is that you were unfairly handsome before, now the universe has leveled the playing field a little bit, and you’re only ridiculously handsome, leaving something for the rest of the population,” TK finishes with a grin.

Carlos snorts in response. “Really? You want to try going there when you’re rocking that face, and those green-eyes of yours?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at him.

TK smiles down at him, his hands coming to rest on Carlos’ shoulders. He takes it as an invitation to wrap his arms around TK’s waist and is rewarded with an even bigger grin. “You like my eyes?”

Carlos looks up at him, getting lost in said gaze. “I like everything about you,” he answers honestly, swallowing hard as TK lets out a soft exhale. “But your eyes? They’re completely breathtaking.”

TK’s eyes crinkle at the sides as he smiles wide. “Sweet-talker.”

Carlos smiles back at him, his chin practically resting on TK’s stomach from how close he has him. “How are you doing?”

TK looks down, his smile dimming. “I’m okay,” he says with a lift of his shoulder as he tries to be casual, the sadness on his face tells a different story though. “I just hate losing people.”

“I know the feeling,” he answers quietly. It doesn’t matter how long he’s been a cop; he doesn’t think he will ever get used to the feeling of knowing he can’t save everyone. He imagines that as a firefighter, it’s worse for TK. “I came to see if you were alright.”

TK’s expression is grateful; he sinks his hands into his hair, tilting his face up towards him as he bends down at the waist to kiss him softly.  “Thank you,” TK murmurs against his mouth, kissing him once more before resting his forehead against his.

They stay like that for a moment, the position a little strain with TK standing while he sits, but he finally has TK in his arms, so he’s not going to complain.

“Have dinner with me,” he asks quietly after a while of holding each other in silence. “I can cook for you.”

TK pulls back, raising an eyebrow at him, the whispers of a smile on his face. “You finally got the hint that I want to try this polze thing.”

“Pozole,” he corrects him with a grin, which makes TK roll his eyes.

“Not the point,” TK grins. “I have been throwing you hints for weeks that I want to spend time with you.”

“I can be a little slow sometimes,” he admits. “Plus, my brain kind of shuts down around you.”

TK’s eyes light up at the confession; they sparkle with happiness and amusement. “I’m that amazing, huh?” he teases him, trying not to laugh.

Carlos goes to stand, forcing TK to take a step back. He doesn’t let him get far, though,  as he keeps his arms around his waist, pulling him as close as he can. TK holds on to him, a little breathless as he stares into his eyes.

“You are,” he tells him, watching as TK’s eyes go wide from the sincerity he hears in Carlos’ voice. “From the moment I saw you, I knew you were amazing and special, and all I’ve wanted is to be around you.”

TK bites down on his lip, but it doesn’t hide his smile. “That’s all I’ve wanted since I first saw you too,” he tells him.  TK looks at him with those beautiful green eyes of his, and they make his heart skip a beat at the affection he sees in them that he just has to kiss him again.

He leans in, pressing his mouth against TK’s, swallowing the small sigh he lets out as he parts his lips for him, pulling him closer still as he gets to taste the sweetness of TK’s mouth and drawing even sweeter sounds from him. They’re so lost in each other that they startle, jumping back when someone on the balcony above them whistles loudly, followed by a ‘Get it TK!’

Carlos looks at TK, enjoying the blush he sees on him even though he knows his own face is just as red, he smiles, and TK returns the gesture until they’re both laughing quietly.

“So,” he starts, smiles still in place from the giddiness he feels. “Do you want to have dinner with me?”

The smile TK gives him back as he closes the space between them, sends his heart racing. “Baby, I want everything with you.”

#911 lone star #tarlos #tarlos fic #911 lone star fic #my writing #tk x carlos

[onlydevilsleft]

{{ this is a starter call for the dutton clan ;; any of them in any verse - and i know my verses and my bios are all fucked right now/still but if you have any questions at all please feel more than free to ask me privately ;; likewise, feel free to like this but drop a reply or a note in my messages stating who you want if you want anyone in particular otherwise it might be completely randomized per who i feel more in the moment to interact with your character ;; also if you’re a multi and you like this please tell me somewhere who you would like me to write the thing for ;; thanks lovelies!!! OH and... this is open to my newest followers and follow backs too ;; former and formal ic or ooc interactions don’t factor in at all because welcome! enjoy your stay! much love! - morgan <33 }}

#ic #our fate does not seek our consent | { starter call } #ooc #out of blood

[hawkinshellfire]

Right Where You Left Me

Chapter 12 - Lover

 Chapter 12 - Lover

  We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January

And this is our place, we make the rules

And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you dear

Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?

“Let me help you with that.”

 “I can do it,” Joyce says stubbornly.

 “What the hell is in there?” Hopper asks, pointing to Joyce’s duffel bag. 

 “Clothes?” she replies.

 “Why do you need so many?”

 “We’re going for two weeks, Hop.”

 “The cabin isn’t that far, we can always come back if you need more clothes.”

 “But then we have to come back to reality and I was planning on spending two weeks very far away from it,” she smirks. 

 “You aren’t saying that because there are a bunch of books in that bag, are you?”

 “There may be  one, ” she admits, “but it’s not what I plan on distracting myself with.”

 She steps towards him, drops her bag on the floor next to his feet and runs her palm along his chest. Rocking forward on her toes, she brushes her nose against his and pulls back with a devilish smile.

 “Tease,” he calls after her. 

 Joyce looks back and tosses a wink over her shoulder then reaches for her bag and walks it over to Hopper’s car.

 “Jesus son, get her bag,” Mr. Hopper remarks as he comes up behind them.

 “She won’t let me,” he tells his father, “I offered.”

 “You make sure you take good care of Joyce while you two are up there. And be sure to stack some extra wood so you don’t run out. Remember, you can always come back early if you need anything.”

 “Don’t worry dad, we’ll be fine.”

 “Joyce, if this one starts causing you too much trouble you make sure to give him hell, yeah,”

 “Will do Mr. Hopper,” Joyce smiles. 

 They arrive at Hopper’s grandfather's cabin just after lunch. The wooden house, surrounded by a wrap-around porch, sat in the middle of the woods near a small pond. 

 Joyce excitedly leaps out of the car, leaving Hopper to get the bags while she checks out the cottage. 

 There was an old fabric couch in the center of the room across from a large fireplace, a small kitchen with a yellow fridge and a bedroom and adjacent bathroom off to the side. 

 Her heart leaps when she realizes there is only one bed, despite knowing that she was going to get to spend every evening curled into Hopper’s side and every morning waking next to him, the reality settles in and makes it all seem so real. They were going to have two uninterrupted weeks together and she was giddy with excitement.

 Hopper comes up behind her and drops their bags to the floor, his arms circling around her waist while he drops his head to her shoulder.

 “So? What do you think?”

 “It’s perfect,” she smiles.

 He squeezes her, pressing their cheeks together before placing a kiss on the top of her head and moving to the kitchen. 

 “Why don’t we unpack and stack some firewood before I make us some dinner?”

 “Sounds nice.”

 He begins to unload the freezer bag, filling the fridge with goodies while Joyce slowly walks around the cabin and admires the art hanging on the walls. A photo of Hopper and a man she assumed to be his grandfather hung over the mantle. 

 Running her fingers along the throw blanket hanging over the back of the couch, she wanders into the bedroom. 

 This was the perfect place to spend the next few weeks. Away from the chaos that consumed real life, she could focus on the two of them. Just her and Hop. The world could wait. 

 Peering out the window over the bed, she smiles at the swans swimming in the lake and moves closer. 

 “Joyce?” Hopper calls from the kitchen. 

 “Yes?”

 “Do you want one burger or two?” 

 “Two please!”

 “Great. It’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

.

.

She’s nervous. Hopper can tell by the way her hands are folded in her lap and her shoulders are slumped. They’re sitting at the two person table located next to the kitchen, enjoying the burgers he prepared for them. 

 “You’re quiet,” he observes out loud.

 “Sorry, I was just thinking,” she admits.

 “About?”

 “How nice this is,” she smiles softly. “The food is good.”

 “Joyce,” he says in a near whisper. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

 “I’m just a little nervous,” she tells him. 

 “Nervous?”

 “It sounds stupid,” she looks down. 

 “It’s not stupid,” he reassures her.��

 “What if after this week you decide that you don’t want this?”

 “I’ve wanted this for a long time, I was just afraid to admit it to myself,” he tells her, reaching for her hand over the table. 

 “But what if it’s too much, spending all this time alone together? Doesn’t it just feel so - serious?”

 “Come with me,” he demands, standing up and tugging her towards the living room. 

 She follows his lead curiously, their hands still wound together and she watches as he excitedly brings them towards a stack of old boxes. 

 He drops her hand and begins rummaging through the cardboard boxes one by one. Triumphantly, he turns back to her holding up a string of multi-coloured Christmas lights.

 “Lights?” she says confused.

 “We’re going to put them up. Make things more fun,” he explains. 

 “But it’s summer?”

 “So?” he shrugs, “who says we can’t put the lights up whenever we want? This is our house, we make the rules.”

 Skeptically, she accepts one end of the light strand and stares up at him. “You really want to put them up?”

 “Absolutely! Go grab me that tape in the kitchen.”

 When Joyce returns with the tape, Hopper already has three strands of lights stretched out along the floor. She passes him the tape and waits for instruction while noticing he put a record on. 

 The soft sounds of jazz fill the cabin only ceasing when a crackling sound from the old needle in the vinyl interrupts. 

 The two work to string up the lights in tandem, Joyce ripping off pieces of tape and Hopper using the pieces to attack the multicoloured bulbs to the ceiling. Only when the ceiling has become a sea of reds, blues and greens do they take a step back to admire their handiwork. 

 A strange comforting sensation overcomes Joyce as she stares up at the lights with her arms folded across her chest. Somehow, Hopper knew this would comfort her. She adored him for always knowing exactly what she needed. 

 From behind her, he watches as she marvels at the decorations and proudly smiles to himself. 

 “May I have this dance?” he asks.

 Feeling calm and bold, Joyce accepts his hand and allows him to twirl her into him. She crashes into his chest laughing and smiles up at him while he brushes her hair out of her eyes. 

 “Feeling better?” 

 “Much,” she smiles. “Thank you. You’re always so full of surprises.”

 “Speaking of surprises,” he grins and releases her, “I have one more.”

 He disappears into the bedroom and re-emerges holding a Polaroid camera.

 Proudly, he holds it up and snaps a photo of Joyce beneath the lights. 

 “Where did you get that?”

 “My parents said we could borrow it. Smile.”

 Embarrassed, Joyce pulls her arms around her chest and casts her gaze to the floor while he snaps another photo. 

 “You don’t have to do that,” he says softly, stepping towards her. “You know you’re beautiful.”

 The moment she smiles at his compliment, Hopper snaps another photo and lets it fall to the floor. “There’s  the smile.”

 Joyce gestures for the camera with an open palm and takes it in both hands when Hopper hands it over. 

 She raises it and snaps a photo of him, allowing it to fall to the floor alongside the one of her. 

 Hopper scoops both photos up from the wooden floorboard and turns them towards her. In her photo, Joyce looks petite beneath the lights and her smile takes up most of her face, while Hopper has his eyes closed and his nose scrunched in his photo. 

 “Oh god let’s get rid of that,” she says, pointing to the picture of her.

 “Not a chance. This might be one of my favourite pictures of you.”

 “You’re kidding?”

 “Nope. You look perfect.”

 The pair fools around with the camera some more before clearing their dishes and working as a team to wash and dry the plates. Joyce yawns as they work and nods when Hopper asks if she’s ready for bed. 

 He allows her to go into the bedroom ahead of him to change into her pyjamas. When he joins her a few moments later, he finds her propped up against a pillow in a pair of sweatpants and an old shirt with a book in her lap. 

 With a childish grin, he snaps a photo of her before setting the camera down on the nightstand and joining her. 

 “What was that for?!” she exclaims when the flash goes off.

 “I just want to remember this moment.”

 He slips beneath the covers next to her and uses one arm to pull her closer to his side. 

 “Do you mind if I read?” she asks. 

 “Not at all.”

 Joyce is fast asleep against Hopper’s arm in a matter of moments. Carefully, he places her page holder back into her book and slides the novel from her hands. Once it’s on the table next to the bed, he reaches for the light switch and turns out the lights.

 The next morning, he wakes before her and gently rolls her away from him so he can slip into the kitchen and surprise her with breakfast. He stumbles upon the Polaroids scattered across the floor on his way and decided to put them in a stack on the table.

 The final photo he picks up is the first one he took of Joyce, the one she claimed to hate, but there was something about it that made him want to preserve the memory. So, he slips it into his wallet before beginning to prepare eggs and toast. 

 .

.

That afternoon, Joyce trails behind Hopper as he leads the way to the lake behind the house. He places a blanket down on the grass and begins to unpack the picnic basket he prepared while Joyce stares out over the lake. 

 “It’s so peaceful,” she remarks.

 “It was my favourite place as a kid. Still is.”

 “I can see why. I don’t think I ever want to leave.”

 “Then we’ll stay,” he nods. 

 “Yeah right. Unfortunately, we have to go back to reality eventually,” she sighs.

 “Says who? Who’s to say we can’t just run off and start our adventure out here?”

 “Your parents, for starters,” she points out. 

 Joyce joins Hopper on the blanket he’d delicately laid out for them and folds her legs beneath her. 

 “Nah, I say we do it. Let’s just be crazy impulsive kids and we get the hell out of Hawkins. It’s not like anything ever happens there anyway,” Hopper says. 

 He leans back on his palms, legs outstretched between them and pinches his eyes shut. He knows what he’s saying sounds foolish, but a large part of him would love to leave Hawkins with Joyce and never look back. He hadn’t had a chance to tell Joyce yet, but lately, he’d been dreaming of leaving Hawkins more frequently. His father had been on his case about applying to serve and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. While he knew it was the right thing to do, he and Joyce had a good thing going here and he didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. Was it childish to prioritize his teen romance over the duty he had to his country? Absolutely. But despite his father’s claims that he was a man (who should go and make the Hopper men proud) he was young and in love and a large part of him wanted to remain an impulsive, love-sick kid. 

 “We can’t,” she laughs, “but wouldn’t that be fun?”

 “C’mon Joycie. If we don’t leave now, then when?”

 Joyce laughs, placing her hand daintily on his shoulder, “One day,” she muses. 

 “Besides,” she adds, “we have to go back because I start working in a few weeks.”

 “Of course, my little librarian in training,” he teases. 

 “I’m not a librarian in training! I’m helping out for the summer!” 

 “I’m just teasing you, Joyce, I think it’s great that you’re going to be working at the library.” 

 “Really?”

 “Really. It’s literally the perfect job for you. Besides, now  you  can take me on a date,” he winks. 

 “Speaking of dates, do we get to eat on this one?” she giggles.

 “Of course,” he says, retrieving two wrapped sandwiches from the bag he packed. “Grilled cheese.”

 The two dig in and begin making plans for all the things they want to do during the week when the first drop of rain lands on Joyce’s cheek. Within minutes it’s absolutely pouring and the pair scramble to their feet and prepare to take cover. 

Hand-in-hand, Joyce and Hopper dodge the raindrops as they sprint towards the cabin. When they reach the back steps, Hopper releases Joyce’s hand and pushes the screen door open to let her inside. 

 She’s drenched from head to toe. Her cotton t-shirt now stuck to her chest, showing off her pale purple bra, despite her efforts to stay warm by folding her hands across her chest. 

 Joyce follows him into the main area of the cabin and he shakes his arms and chuckles. 

 “I didn’t see that one coming,” he says. “Come here,” he calls her over when he sees her shiver. “I’ll start a fire so we can warm up.”

 Hair leaving a trail of water droplets on the floor, Joyce makes her way over to the fire where she stands with her palms pressed to her sides while waiting for the fire to start. 

 Hopper rummages around in the pit, eventually turning back towards her once the flames begin to burn to life. “There we go it shouldn’t be long until it warms up.”

 “Thanks, Hop,” she smiles. 

 With his wet hair slicked back and his shirt pressed to his chiselled arms, Joyce has a hard time tearing her gaze away from him. He catches her staring and she quickly looks away. 

 Stepping towards the fire, she stretches her palms out and falls to her knees so that she can be closer to the heat. Hopper follows her lead and kneels down next to her. Outside the sky has turned an ominous grey, leaving the fire to be the main source of light inside the cabin.

 Joyce shivers again and instinctively reaches for the hem of her soaked shirt and pulls it over her head. She notices Hopper staring as she sinks back against her heels and shyly grins at him. 

 “What?” she asks.

 “Nothing,” he lies.

 “You’re supposed to remove wet clothing or you’ll freeze. Hasn’t anyone ever told you that?” 

 “I might have heard it somewhere,” he shrugs. 

 Staring down at her petite frame clad in only her jeans and bra, he slides himself closer and reaches for her shoulder with a calloused hand. 

 Slowly, he runs his thumb along her exposed collarbone and she shivers.

 “Are you still cold?” he asks.

 “No.”

 Gently, his hand glides down her arm and he moves closer, taking up the majority of the space in her orbit.

 They lock eyes as his hand falls from her arm before he reaches for the hem of his own shirt and tosses it somewhere behind him. 

 Her palm settles on his bare chest and Joyce looks up at Hopper through hooded eyes. His heart lurches at the way the fire makes her face glow. She looked absolutely radiant. 

 “Hop,” her voice snaps him out of his trance.

 “Yeah?”

 “You’re staring.”

 “Sorry, it’s just. Jesus Joyce, you’re beautiful.”

 Unsure of how to respond, she leans forwards, placing both hands on Hopper's shoulders and kisses him,  hard .

 He responds by placing open palms on her bareback and tugging her as close as their knees will allow. 

 Hands roaming Joyce’s bare-back, Hopper begins to kiss along her jawline and down her neck. She tilts her head back in response, granting him more access. 

 From where they sit on their knees, their upper limbs tangled, Joyce reaches for the button in Hopper’s jeans and undoes it while he licks along her collarbone. His palm settles on her inner thigh and the soaked material of her jeans suddenly becomes hot beneath his touch. 

 When kneeling becomes an inconvenience and they are forced to part for breath, Hopper looks over at Joyce with a caring smile and whispers.

 “Can I try something?”

 She nods in response, a mixture of nerves and excitement.

 “Lay back,” he whispers.

 He guides her as she lays against the blanket on the floor and slowly slides himself down her body. When he reaches her naval he pauses before looking up and locking eyes with her. 

 “Is this alright?” he asks.

 She nods again.

 Wordlessly, he helps her slide out of her soaked pants and tosses them to the side. Leaning down, he places a hesitant kiss on her inner thigh and she trembles. 

 He reaches towards the elastic waistband of her cotton panties and again pauses to smile up at her. 

 “It’s okay,” she gives him permission before he has a chance to ask. 

 Joyce draws in a deep breath as Hopper once again kisses her inner thigh. 

 Her hands lay limply at her sides but she immediately reaches for his hair when he uses his tongue to lick along her center in one fluid motion.

 He smirks as she bucks forward, the hand clutching his hair a sign that she’s enjoying this but he wants to be sure so he asks again.

 “Is this-?”

 “ Yes, ” she hisses before he can finish asking, the desperateness in her tone something he’s never heard before. 

 Once again, he leans forward and runs his tongue along her slit, this time following the motion up by teasing her with his index finger. 

 Joyce tightens her grip on him and admires the way his flexed arms look in the firelight. Propped up on her elbows and sprawled out on a blanket in front of the fire, she closes her eyes and tosses her head back while Hopper’s head bobs between her thighs. 

 It isn’t long before she’s trembling beneath him, coming undone around his tongue while she whispers his name harshly beneath her breath. 

 They manage to stumble their way through the dimly lit cabin towards the bedroom afterwards, where Hopper manages to make Joyce come undone yet again. 

.

.

 After breakfast the next morning, Joyce finds herself wrapped in one of Hopper’s flannels while they sit on the back step and watch the sunrise over the water. 

 With the sky painted a faint shade of pink and the stillness of the water only shifting beneath the ducks that swim across, it felt like a scene from a movie. Leaning her head on Hopper’s shoulder, she reaches for their shared cigarette and takes a long drag. 

 They sit in silence for the majority of the morning, Hopper occasionally shifting next to Joyce when he reaches into his back pocket for another smoke. She keeps her open palm resting on his lap, where he’s tracing gentle circles with the edge of his thumb.

 Before lighting another, he shimmies from beneath her and cups her cheek in his hand, sliding his thumb along the curve of her jaw before his fingers settle on the nape of her neck and he brushes her lips with a gentle kiss. She smiles against his lips, caught off guard by his abrupt, tender action.

 He chuckles under his breath when he feels her smile and she demands to know why he’s laughing.

 “What’s so funny?”

 “You’re smiling,” he teases with a grin.

 “Well, it’s your fault for kissing me like that!”

 “I couldn’t help myself.”

 Their laughter fades and Joyce shifts back into her previous position with her head resting on his shoulder. 

 “What are you thinking about?” she asks. 

 “How much I love you.”

 “No you were not,” she forces a laugh. At this point in their relationship, it wasn’t unusual for Hopper to tell Joyce he loved her. Though she’d yet to say it back, she adored the way he’d become comfortable with saying the words to her. He seemed to like to remind her with any chance he got and she received butterflies in her stomach each time the words rolled off his tongue. She also knew that he wasn’t hurt by the fact she hadn’t said it back. He wanted her to mean it when she said it and she was confident that when the time came, she would. Besides, she was certain that she loved him, she was simply unsure of how to process those feelings.

 “I was,” he admits. “I think I’ll love you forever.”

 “You can’t love someone forever, it’s not possible.”

 “Fine. Then I’ll love you until the clocks stop ticking.”

 “What does that even mean?” she challenges. 

 “It means exactly what you think it means. My heart will belong to you until the clock stops ticking.”

 “Hop, the clock is always going to tick, that’s the entire point of time.”

 “Exactly. So you know I’ll love you long after we’re both gone too.”

 “That’s morbid,” she teases.

 “It’s romantic.”

 “Says who?”

 “Me.”

 After a few moments of silence, he speaks again. “I mean it, Joyce. ‘Till the clock stops ticking.”

.

.

That evening, Hopper invites Joyce to join him fishing but she declines and opts to spend her evening reading instead. After he sets out with his tackle box, wearing a hat Joyce describes as “ridiculously cute” she draws herself a bath and climbs into the tiny tub with plans to finish her novel. 

 It’s a quiet evening, the only sounds interrupting her thoughts coming from the crickets that begin to chirp with the rising moon. She loses herself in a world of fiction within moments and without a window in the bathroom, there is no way to tell how long she’s been reading. It’s perfect and blissful and everything she never knew she needed. 

 With a few chapters to go, Joyce places her bookmark between the pages and drops her head back against the tub, pinching her eyes closed as she absorbs the calmness the silence brings. 

 Moments later, the creaking of the floorboards on the back deck announces Hopper’s return and she finds herself smiling. 

 “Joyce?” he calls out as he enters the cabin.

 “In here!” she yells through the semi-shut door to the bathroom. 

 The sound of his footsteps gets louder as he nears the door and she hears him come to an abrupt halt just outside the door.

 “You can come in,” she laughs in an almost teasing tone. “I was just reading in the bath.”

 “Are you sure?”

 “Yes.”

 He pushes the door to the bathroom back slowly, the mere thought of Joyce sitting naked already overstimulating his senses. He finds her sitting in a tub with hardly any bubbles, book in hand. 

 “How was fishing?” she asks without looking up.

 “Not bad. Caught a few,” he says, though his focus is elsewhere. “How was your evening?”

 “Wonderful,” she beams, “I’m almost done with my book.”

 “I’ll leave you to finish it then,” he offers, rocking back on his heels.

 “Stay,” she whispers. 

 “I don’t know if you’ve noticed how small that tub is Joyce but I don’t think we’re both going to fit,” he chuckles.

 “I meant here,” she pats the empty air next to her. “Sit with me.”

 “Alright. Why don’t I read the rest to you?”

 “Really?”

 “Really.”

 Hopper waddles over to the side of the tub and plops himself down onto the tile floor. With his legs outstretched he reaches for Joyce’s novel, careful not to lose the page she’s on. 

 He begins to read, pausing every now and then to admire how she crinkles her nose when she becomes invested in a particular sentence. 

 “Earth to Hop,” she reaches over the side of the tub and waves a hand in his face. “Why did you stop reading?”

 “I got distracted.” 

 “By what? You were  literally  reading the words off the page.”

 “By  you ,” he smirks, lowering the book. 

 Hopper places the novel down on the floor next to him and pushes himself to his feet. With a dopey grin, he grips both sides of the tube and looks down at Joyce. Her eyes widen when she realizes what he’s about to do and a shriek escapes her lips just as he slips into the water, fully clothed. He hovers over her to steal a kiss and brushes her cheek with a soap-soaked palm. 

 “Turns out we both do fit,” he beams.

 “Barely,” she laughs. 

 Waiting until Hopper climbs out of the tub, his clothes heavy from the weight of the water and pressed to his body, Joyce grabs a towel and dries her hair before stepping out after him. She stands before him in nothing but a tiny towel and smiles shyly. 

 No words are exchanged. He glides towards her in three large steps and cups her face in his palms. He walks them backwards, towards the door and down the hall while they kiss. They bump into the doorway and two parts of the wall before making it to the bedroom, where Hopper lifts Joyce and carries her towards the bed. She wraps her legs around his centre and allows her fingers to dance through the baby hairs at the base of his neck while he carries her across the room. 

 After placing her down on the bed, her petite frame still damp from the bath, he looks down at her with hungry eyes. 

 “I’m not made of glass Hop. I’m not going to break,” she reminds him. 

 He nods.

 Desperately, he moves forward to close the distance between them, greedily gripping the back of her neck while snaking his tongue into her mouth. She reaches for the hem of his soaked shirt and helps him remove it. His belt and bottoms are quick to follow and their damp naked bodies collide once again while their kisses grow sloppier and more desperate. 

 They tumble to the left and Joyce finds herself in a position to climb on top of Hopper. Straddling him, she looks down at him with wide eyes and grins. In a hushed tone, speaks while running her hands down his bare torso. “Tell me what you want.”

 It’s a question while simultaneously a demand and it sparks something animalistic inside of him. He tosses both arms around her waist, tugging her closer while his lips curl up into a massive smirk. He presses them against hers hard, the force of them catching her off guard. Hopper pulls back slightly so that his lips ghost over hers while he speaks and in a deep sultry tone he replies, “I just want you.”

 Cupping her chin in his palm, he greedily kisses her before leaning back against the pillows, tugging her with him while whispering, “Come here.”

.

.

 Sitting on the back porch steps, Joyce passes her joint to Hopper and smirks when he coughs on his initial inhale. After a few hours of trying to convince him to get high with her, Hopper had finally conceded and agreed to split a joint with Joyce. He’d been high a handful of times in the past but was always hesitant when it came to smoking. On the other hand, Joyce enjoyed an occasional joint whenever she could. She found it eased the chaos swirling in her mind and it served as an escape from the hell that was her Hawkins life. She had never, however, been high with Hopper.

 She watches as he focuses on his breathing and laughs beneath her breath. It was so typical of him to try and be good at everything; even something like this. As if on cue, Hopper inhales incorrectly and begins coughing.

 “Jesus Joyce, how do you smoke this stuff?”

 “They are no worse than your nasty cigarettes,” she says. 

 “They’re way worse! I don’t even think you can compare them.”

 “I can and I will. Your cigarettes are ten times worse.”

 “Agree to disagree?” he asks.

 “Fine. But you know I’m right.”

 “I never said that.”

 “You didn’t not say it.”

 “You’re infuriating.”

 “You find it fascinating.”

 “What can I say, you intrigue me,” he admits.

 “Does that mean once you get me all figured out you’ll get bored?”

 “Bored? Of you ? Not possible.”

 “Oh c’mon. You won’t be bored of me a few years from now?”

 “I won’t be bored of you a hundred years from now,” Hopper smiles at her. 

 “Now I  know  you’re lying,” she half-laughs.

 “I’m being serious Joyce. It’s me and you from now on. Come here,” he says, standing up and gesturing for her to do the same.

 Joyce slowly rises to her feet and follows Hopper into the cabin. He marches straight towards the support beam next to the couch and fetches a pocket knife from his pants. 

 “What are you doing?” she asks when he raises the blade to the wood.

 “Carving our initials.”

 The next forty-five minutes are spent carving their initials into a heart while discussing the exciting future plans they both had. 

.

.

A day before they were set to return home from the cabin, Benny and his girlfriend Helen drove up to spend the night with them. The day was packed with outdoor activities and by the time the four of them settled around a campfire with some beers, Joyce was absolutely drained. She curls herself against Hopper’s chest, not caring that Benny or Helen may find it odd that she chooses to sit in his lap. 

 They decide on playing truth or dare. Despite Joyce’s initial protests that it was a childish game, she finds herself having fun. 

 “Alright Joyce, truth or dare,” Helen asks.

 “Truth,” she responds. 

 “Tell us about your first kiss with Jim.”

 Joyce blushes and casts her gaze downwards before beginning to speak. Rather than describe the kiss they shared at her party, she begins describing a party they both attended in the ninth grade.

 Hopper nearly chokes on his drink when she begins telling the story, knowing exactly which story it is. All these years and he never thought she remembered that kiss. They were both drunk (her far more than him) and it was never mentioned again. It hadn’t even been mentioned now that they were together, which further convinced him she had no memory of it happening. 

  .

“Joyce!” A young drunken Hopper called after Joyce as she sprinted from the party. “Joyce, wait up!”

  When he finally catches up to her on the sidewalk, he’s out of breath and panting. 

  “What is it Hop?” she asks with an exhausted sigh. 

  “Don’t let them get to you okay? It’s just a stupid game.”

  “A really stupid game,” she mutters. 

  The two of them were attending Randy Smith’s birthday party when a game of spin the bottle broke out. When Joyce refused to participate in such a “childish” game, Randy stood up in front of everyone and exclaimed it must have been because Joyce had never been kissed and everyone laughed. 

  To prove that she was cooler than everyone else, Joyce downed three drinks and stormed away from the party, leaving Hopper to chase after her. 

  Hopper knew that this was the exact reason Joyce hadn’t wanted to play. Just a week prior she was telling him that she wanted her first  real  kiss to be with someone special. She asked if he thought that was stupid and he told her no, in fact, it was sweet. 

  “Can I walk you home?” he asks, noticing that she’s far drunker than she’s letting on.

  “Sure,” she nods. 

  The pair walks home in comfortable silence, Hopper occasionally offering his arm to steady drunken Joyce on the bumpy pavement. Midway through the walk, Joyce starts rambling about the heap of trouble she’ll likely get in at home and that’s when he knows she’s had far too much to drink. She never talked about her home life like this. 

  As they’re approaching her house, Hopper asks if she’ll be alright. She looks him in the eye and meekly smiles before replying that of course, she would be, she always was. 

  Unconvinced, he follows her to the door where he spontaneously wraps his arms around her and makes her promise that she’ll call if she needs anything. 

  While pulling back, he locks eyes with her and before he has the better sense to stop himself, he’s leaning down to place a brief, chaste kiss on her lips. 

  Joyce says nothing in response, instead, she offers him a shy smile and a timid wave as she turns towards the front door. 

  He feels like an ass his entire walk home. She wanted her first kiss to be with someone special and he just took that away from her. With any luck, she wouldn’t remember it and he could carry on as if it never happened. 

  The next day at school she doesn’t mention it and he thinks he might be in the clear. A month later she tells him all about her first kiss with a boy from her art class and he’s convinced she doesn’t remember that night on her porch.

  It was his first kiss too. He never forgets it. 

.

 “That’s so sweet!” Helen coos. 

 “I didn’t know you remembered that,” Hopper whispers to Joyce so that only she can hear. 

 “You never brought it up. I thought you wanted to pretend it hadn’t happened,” she admits. 

 “God no Joyce. I was embarrassed and thought you either didn’t remember or if you did you wish I hadn’t done it. We really did suck at communicating huh?”

 “You did,” Benny interjects. 

 In the midst of their confessions, their whispers had somehow turned into a full-blown conversation without them realizing they had an audience. 

 “Everyone at school has known you two were into each other for years. You’re literally the only ones who couldn’t see it,” he informs them. “I can’t believe it took you two  this  long to figure it out.”

 “But we figured it out,” Hopper smirks, leaning down and placing a chaste kiss on his girlfriend’s lips. 

 “Gross,” Benny whines, which causes everyone to laugh.

 “Alright, Benny, truth or dare?” Joyce asks.  

 .

.

Tossing their bags into the trunk of the car, Hopper leans over and smirks down at Joyce. 

 “What?” she asks when she catches him staring. 

 “Remember last night when you were teasing me about being a typical boy that’s fascinated by cheerleaders because of, I believe your exact words were ‘they wear stupidly short skirts’?”

 “Yeah?” she replies skeptically, “what about it?” 

 “Well, it’s not too late for you to join the squad for next year.”

 Joyce’s eyes nearly pop out of her head and she swats at his arm to scold him for making such a ridiculous statement. 

 “You wish,” she scoffs. 

 “I  do  wish.’

 “Hop!” Joyce exclaims, “stop picturing me in one of those ridiculous little skirts!”

 “I can’t help it. You’re already hotter than the rest of the cheerleaders without the skirt. If you wore the skirt I think time might standstill.”

 “Oh yeah?” she laughs.

 “On second thought, maybe don’t join. When I told you I’d love you until the clock stopped ticking I was hoping that would last longer than the first pep rally of senior year.”

 “I can’t believe we’re going to be seniors,” she muses. 

 “The seniors that everyone wants to be,” he reminds her. “I’m going to go after a football scholarship and you, my genius girlfriend, are going to get into any college you want, I’m certain of it. Then we can get the hell out of this small town.”

 “Me and you?” she asks softly. 

 Hopper closes the trunk of the car, sealing in their bags and smiles over at Joyce, “Me and you." 

 “‘Till the clock stops ticking,” he adds with a cheeky wink before tossing the keys into the driver's seat and beginning their trip back to reality. 

  My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue

All's well that ends well to end up with you

#jopper #stranger things #stranger things 4 #joyce byers #jim hopper #mutichapter #au #highschool au

[justanotheronechicagofan]

stars 

hi y’all! this is sort of a prologue for Belmont, my boarding school au so apologies for how short it is. For those that choose not to read this but are still interested in the au, 1) tysm! and 2) i’ve written it so that the au will still make sense without this.💗 characters - Hailey Upton, Hailey’s parents TW -  dissociation, inferred domestic abuse, inferred child abuse, swearing (2) 

Hailey stared at the ceiling.

The clusters of stars smiled back and she willed its glow to take her to nothingness, away from his roar that filled the house.

It was a weeknight dinner that had turned into the Monster's cruel game. This round though, she knew what set him off. He told them that she had an interview next week, for a different school, in England. He said it like a fact, like it didn't even cross his mind to ask her. Hailey thought she would be surprised but maybe deep down, she knew they were puppets to him. There was no way she wasn't going to put up a fight though so she rebelled. And took it all. Counting to ten again and again until her mind became a cloud. It was a trick her brothers taught her. Survival tactics, they said.

Like always, he soon grew bored of her and moved on to his next prey. So now she was in her room, safe in the glow of the stars her brothers had put up once.

Hailey stared at the ceiling but the Monster cut through it all.

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE CHRISTINE, WHO THE HELL CARES? HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU?! THAT UNGRATEFUL BITCH IS GETTING OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

She grabbed her headphones and turned the volume loud, wanting to float again. When her playlist went full circle, Hailey slid her headphones off to an eerily still house. How he announced the news circled in her mind and she felt the anger starting to steam. She couldn’t tell if she was more angry at him or at herself because he did this before. And she promised her self that it would be the last time. That she would fight. Because she hated feeling like a pushover, hated that feeling of not having agency. The thing is, she knew he didn’t give choices. This was his house. Something they all learnt a long time ago.

Hailey stared into the stars and remembered that night. 

They were still in their old house and he just announced that they were moving to Lake Forest. She scoffed at the similarity. Some ‘family’ dinner huh. She had hated the school at first. Being the new kid, a curiosity. They had pecked because she was a public school kid from Greektown but she stood her ground. And now she kind of liked it - her teachers were descent and her friends were solid. Maybe this won’t be so bad. The fact that it was in England did pique her curiosity. She closed her eyes and let her inner fan girl wonder if it would be anything like Hogwarts.

Her thoughts froze still when she sensed movement but breathed again when it was her mother's footsteps. After a faint knock and some shuffling, Hailey felt the mattress shift.

"Hi darling" her mother smiled, her eyes red, makeup more caked than before. It might have fooled her then but she wasn't 8 anymore.

"Did you know?" Hailey cut to the chase. You’re okay with this? She asked even though she already knew. Her mother’s previous utter shock answered that one and the way she sat answered the one hanging in the air.

"No I think your father wanted it to be a surprise.” she saw straight through the strained smile. “Hailey, you're my only daughter. I’m going to miss this. But your father wants this for you and-"

"Wha- Hold on. For me? You’ve gotta to be kidding me. When has he ever wanted anything other than for himself?" she hissed, killing her that she couldn’t be louder.

"Hailey Anne, watch your tone. And yes, for you. I talked to your father and it really does sound like a great opportunity."

Of course she does. He just had to ‘convince’ her. "Mom. What's the real reason?” Where did he even hear about this school?

“You know I don’t know that. But really it doesn’t matter anymore. And his partners were right about your school weren’t they? You like it there.”

Of course. It was always going to be about him, setting a show. He had grown more obsessed since they moved to Lake Forest. She knew it was useless but her anger was already fueled, keeping her pushing back.

“Are y- This isn’t even remotely the same. Okay? This isn’t across a city. You get that right? It’s across the fucking ocean. I ca-”

"Annie-“ That halted Hailey. She rarely called her that. “- I know it’s not the same. Just please don’t fight this” Hailey’s breath hitched at her mother’s facade cracking. “The school really does look beautiful darling and, I’m sure it’s better for studying you know? More ... quiet"

That left her stunned. She was sure this would be the first and last time her mother would say this. The words were carefully crafted but Hailey saw through it. It was loud and it was clear. Annie, you get on that life boat. So she reached to her mother and squeezed her hand. “Okay.”

"Okay well, good” she smiled. It was a bittersweet one but genuine. Hailey hadn’t seen it in a long time. “Oh, before I forget, this is the booklet for the school. Maybe we can look at it again together.” She squeezed her knee before placing the light blue booklet on her bed.

“Sure mom. Tomorrow?” she smiled.

Her mother nodded and headed towards the door. “Okay. I’m gonna get ahead on the starter. I think bagels will cheer your father up tomorrow.” she laughed, her wall building again. “Good night Hailey.”

“Good night mom.”

Hailey flipped over the magazine sized 'booklet' - there was a crest on the front with Belmont College embossed in silver underneath. College? that confused her. And even just from the covers, this school seemed fancy. She took a deep breath and flicked it open.

_______________________________________________________

A/N - Thank you for reading - I hope you liked it! Let me know what you think 💗Although this brought up 'monsters' of my own, it was weirdly therapeutic for me to write so here it is! For those that prefer something more light hearted, don’t worry, they’ll be fluff coming your way 🥰

Belmont is going to be a collection of one shots/drabbles instead of a multi chapter fic because boy am i already doing one and i can barely handle it. Thank you to everyone that voted for this fictional school’s name and if you’re interested, i’m probably going to hold some more polls in this tag 💗  

#chicago pd #hailey upton #tw: domestic abuse #tw: child abuse #tw: dissociation #tw: swearing #boardingschool!au

[buckyntasha]

starters/prompts from the secret life of walter mitty’s original motion picture soundtrack

This is meant for RP but can be used as general writing prompts as well. Send me a lyric for a starter/drabble. Feel free to change wording or pronouns as you see fit. Multi-muses, please indicate which muse is sending it! 

Step Out (José González) 

“Leave it all behind you”

“Something’s not the same”

“Feel your presence in your absence” 

“Shut the door” 

“Heart’s on fire” 

“Time to step outside” 

Dirty Paws (Of Monsters and Men)

“My head is an animal” 

“The son was an okay guy” 

“They used to sing about the birds and the bees” 

“The sky wasn’t big enough for them all” 

“So for a while things were cold” 

“The forest that once was green was colored black by those killing machines” 

“And that’s how the story goes” 

Stay Alive (José González) 

“There’s a rhythm and rush these days” 

“Sometimes there’s things a man cannot know”

“There’s no place to run and no gasoline” 

“I will stay with you tonight” 

“Hold you close ‘til the morning light” 

“In the morning watch a new day rise”

“We’ll do whatever just to stay alive” 

“It isn’t like the thoughts of a man who lies” 

“There is a truth and it’s on our side”

“Dawn is coming, open your eyes” 

“Look into the sun as the new days rise”

“I will wait for you tonight” 

“I’ve been waiting all my life to feel your heart as it’s keeping time” 

“Open your eyes” 

Far Away (Junip)

“Step in front of a runaway train just to feel alive again” 

“Can’t believe the state you’re in” 

“It’s all so far away” 

“Who are you trying to impress?” 

Don’t Let it Pass (Junip)

“What’s in your hand?”

“You’re pinned down to routines.” 

“Where nothing is compromised, nothing is lost.” 

“Don’t get locked in.” 

“Everything starts way from within.” 

“Don’t let it pass.” 

Lake Michigan (Rogue Wave)

“She would even miss you if you taught her sight.” 

“Baby’s got a trust fund.” 

“She’ll want to go off like that.” 

“Sky is burning, but at least we know we’re warm.” 

“Go and run yourself a million miles.” 

“You can never see yourself.” 

“Not another payoff.”

“Get off of my stack.” 

Escape (The Pina Colada Song) (Jack Johnson) 

“We’d been together so long.” 

“I read the paper in bed.”

“There was this letter I read.” 

“I know that sounds kind of mean.” 

“I’m nobody’s poet.” 

“I thought I wasn’t half-bad.” 

“I’ve got to meet you by tomorrow noon.” 

“I knew her smile in an instant.” 

“Oh, it’s you.” 

“I never knew.” 

“Come with me and escape.” 

Don’t You Want Me (Bahamas ft. the Weather Station)

“I picked you out and pulled you up.”

“Turned you into someone new.” 

“Success has been so easy for you.” 

“I can put you back down too.” 

“You know I don’t believe you when you say you don’t need me.” 

“You think you’ve changed your mind?” 

“You better change it back or we will both be sorry.” 

“That much is true.” 

“I still love you.” 

“I think it’s time I live my life on my own.” 

“I guess it’s just what I must do.” 

“Don’t you want me, baby?” 

The Wolves and the Ravens (Rogue Valley) 

“Have no money in my hand”

“Have no home.” 

“It doesn’t trouble me.” 

“I am easy to inspire.” 

“I wasn’t yours and you weren’t mine.” 

“I’ve wished from time to time.” 

“We had found a common ground.” 

“I seem to never let you go.”

“There’s no place I haven’t been.” 

“That is all that I can do.” 

Space Oddity (David Bowie) 

“Ground Control to Major Tom.” 

“Put your helmet on.” 

“May God’s love be with you.” 

“I’m stepping through the door.” 

“The stars look very different today.” 

“There’s nothing I can do.” 

“Tell my wife I love her very much.” 

“She knows.” 

“There’s something wrong.” 

“Can you hear me?” 

#9 Dream (José González) 

“Was it just a dream?” 

“I know, yes, I know.” 

“It seemed so very real.” 

“I thought I could hear.” 

“Was magic in the air?” 

“What more can I say?” 

“I thought I could feel.” 

Maneater (Grace Mitchell) 

“She’ll only come out at nights.” 

“Nothing is new.” 

“I’ve seen her here before.” 

“So many have paid to see what you think you’re getting for free.”

“If you’re in it for love, you ain’t gonna get too far.” 

“You ain’t gonna get too far.” 

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” 

“Watch out, boy.” 

#rp memes #memes #askbox memes #roleplay meme #sentence starters #ask prompts

[georgeharris0n]

Blisters On His Fingers - Chapter 2 - “First Date, If John Doesn’t Ruin it”

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 4.3k

Chapters: 2/25

Pairing: George Harrison/Ringo Starr, Minor Paul McCartney/John Lennon

Plot Summery:  George can't help but watch Rory Storm and The Hurricanes play, but John and Paul know he just has his eyes for their drummer. Ringo has some problem with his hands, and George may just see his perfect opportunity to talk to the handsome drummer. (Hamburg Beatle Era)

Note: It’s herE! Here’s a litlle something, as a early Christmas gift! Multi Chapter Hamburg Starrison Fic? you bet! @cirilee​ and I worked very hard on research and planning for the fic and I’m so happy to finaLLY released the first continuation chapter (Thank you sOOO much Ciri! ily ::o::)

Read Chapter 1 Here

Inhaling the stale air in the Bambi Kino cinema was probably the worst thing to wake up to since arriving in Hamburg, but after last night, George barely even noticed. Peeking his eyes open, he adjusted to the artificial light in the damp cement block they called a room. He felt as light as air… George had kissed him. Ringo Starr, George Harrison kissed Ringo Starr.

It’s a wonder George had gotten any sleep at all after that. He remembers staring up at the pitch black ceiling for hours last night and just looking at his smile, the smoothness of his cheek and scruff of his jaw… reliving that moment when he just fucking went for it.

George let out a pleased sigh and stretched his arms above his head.

After a moment he turned over to the bed opposite his only to be faced with two snickering bastards staring back at him. Of-fucking-course, can’t have one single moment of peace can I?

“Sleep alright’ there princess?” John smirked taking a drag from his ciggy.

George groaned. No, not even John could ruin this morning for him.

“Shut up Lennon, and give me drag huh?” He reached toward the nightstand table for the cigarettes, but Paul swooped in all to quick before George could take a blow.

 “What the-”

 “You can have a ciggy after you tell us the details. So spill.” Paul smirked and scooted beside John, taking advantage of his leverage.

 “Details? I- what do you want to know? How do you know anything happened?” George stammered, he thought it would be easy to burst out and tell his best mates what happened, but his nerves seemed to get the best of him.

 Paul scoffed. “Well for starters, you woke up in this shithole with that dreamy smile on your face.”

George felt himself flush, gosh he was smiling pretty wide huh?

 “Yea, and not to mention you coming home at fucking 4 in the mornin’.” John quipped while tapping his ashes off onto the floor, which Paul detested, but couldn’t really argue with considering how nasty the room already was.

 “Well- I.. I’m sure you both enjoyed the alone time.” George teased, hoping to distract from himself a little longer. It held some truth, it was pretty hard living just the three in one room, even harder when he bunked with Pete. John and Paul rarely got to get cozy and the two of them were a committed item, which took awhile since John insisted he wasn’t “queer”. Course, he was over the moon for Paul the moment they met, which was pretty frustrating at first. George saw it, and he knows as soon as those two finally stopped being resisitent, they were all over each other.

 John leaned back lazily and chuckled. “I wish! Sadly, Paul wouldn’t put out. The only tossin’ and turnin’ all he’d do was worry about you getting home, real mood killer you are Georgie boy-” Paul smacked a pillow into John’s face before he kept running his mouth.

 “Piss off John! He’s distracting us! Come on’ George and tell us before John gets his teeth punched in will ya?”

George snickered at the display of Paul looking like an eager parent or older sibling, practically on the edge of his seat.

George fiddled a little with his hands, remembering how the night before he used these same ones to care for Ringo’s palms. How rough Ringo’s hands felt from years of drumming. George liked that much more than silky soft hands, it’s like every scar and callus could tell a story. He hoped Ringo would let him hold them again during their date- Ohfuck. THEIR DATE.

 “Shit! My date! He asked me on a date!” George was standing now, throwing off his blanket and immediately going into a panic.

 Ringostarraskedmeonadate! Howcould I forget thaT-

 The lad was already rummaging hopelessly for clean clothes to wear to no avail. While John and Paul were both now standing probably trying to catch up on the bomb he just dropped into the room.

 “You finally snagged a date with the Hurricane’s drummer?”

John was shocked like he couldn’t believe his ears.

 George looked up from his pile of clothes and he knew he was unfolding, it couldn't be stopped now. “I- well I kissed im’ first, then he asked to see me tomorrow, so… yes?”

 “Hold on! Wait- you’re telling me you kissed him and didn’t tell us? Just sat there like a smiling idiot knowing you kissed the lad we watched you pine over for months?” Paul was almost offended, all that waiting and George didn't tell him sooner?

 “Listen!” George didn’t have time for questions, the stakes were much higher now “Yes! Yes okay? I kissed him, and now we have a date,TODAY, and i have no fucking idea when he gets here so if one of you could get off your asses and HELP ME PLEASE!”

 George was losing his mind, he had no idea what to wear, how much time he had, what he was supposed to do- but of course, Paul did. “George, clean yourself up, and I’ll find you some clothes alright?”

 “Yeah, and calm down too, don’t want to spook him looking like you just left a crack house.”

 George looked over to the wall mirror, he did look frantic, definitely not first date with Ringo material. His eyes were wide, his hair was unruled, and he was nearly shaking. John had a point. This date was way too important, he can’t ruin it by being this nervous.

 George just needed to get ready and hope that he doesn’t make a fool of himself.

 Good luck with that.

 _______________

 Paul had George cleaned up real nice. Black drainies, and one of Paul’s clean white shirts tucked in made George cut a fine figure. Topped off with a large smooth pompadour. Very handsome and slim. Paul was very proud of the simple, yet refined appearance he made up for George’s date. He was a good looking lad all the same, and those fangs that pointed when he smiled had to be a deal breaker. Had he had more time (and spare cash), he almost wanted to go buy him a new fit to really shock Ringo. But- the look was still perfect in Paul’s opinion, but John was insistent he add his own little flare to the mix.

 “Make you look tougher, like on stage.”

 “He’s not going on stage John, he’s going on a date-”

 “Yes, and he’s going to wear the damn jacket!” John argued. Draping a leather jacket on George’s shoulders. He took a much larger role in the getting ready process then was expected. He and Paul fussed left and right over how George needed to look, what shirt, how to wear it, what to say, make his hair messy or clean. Boots or loafers. Smile or brood. The two just couldn’t agree.

 As per usual.

 “George needs this date to go off without a hitch! Who knows? If they go steady, we might get a new drummer.” John winked.

 Last week the lads had to get a replacement drummer to sit in after Pete hauled ass back to Liverpool for some kind of “family emergency”. John seems to think George’s date with Ringo could be an opportunity… Ringo was considered the best drummer as far as Liverpool was concerned, and despite George agreeing that Ringo was 20 times better than Pete, he didn’t like what John was implying. Paul seemed to catch onto it quicker than George was though.

“Oh no no NO, you’re not making George’s date about your little fued with Rory! That’s none of your business.” Paul chided, seeing through John’s casual tone. He knew that face and twinkle in his eyes. He was scheming, and John Lennon’s schemes never ended well.

 “I’m just saying, you can’t date between competing bands. If Geo plays his cards right-”

 George had heard enough, he wasn’t letting this crazy idea get to his head. He wanted to enjoy his date, not be John’s pon.

 He was about to speak up when suddenly a loud knock at the back door silenced the whole room.

 George looked at the door and felt his palms clam up. He shuffled his feet toward the handle. He thought he was going to pass out. This wasn’t even his first date, but it was his first with Ringo, and somehow that made it all the more important.

 Another, more faint knock, hit the door, making George jump back slightly. Is that him? Is he here? Gosh if it’s not him-

 “Don't just stand there! Open it.” Paul whispered, clearly waiting in anticipation.

 When George gathered up his non existent courage and opened the door up, his jaw nearly dropped to the floor…

 If he thought seeing Ringo up on stage, was in itself eye-catching, he was grossly unprepared for when he cleans up for a date.

 Ringo was standing at the door, looking a bit flustered, but non the less pleased to see George. That smile. George thought he might lose his footing had he not been gripping the door frame. He almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He wanted to drape an arm around Ringo’s shoulders and admire how handsome he looked. He was stunning, he was sporting nice fitted charcoal trousers, with a white and black checker striped shirt tucked in. He even topped it off with a black corduroy jacket.

 “Hmm... now that’s what I call boyfriend material.” Paul muttered behind George, who was also admiring Ringo’s attire.

 George barely registered what Paul said until Ringo finally spoke.

 “Gosh, I’m- speechless, you look real handsome George.” Ringo gaped while he shuffled his hands out of his pockets.

The two were both clearly nervous, and George just couldn’t even believe Ringo was really here. Last night had felt too much like a dream to be real, but… it was and he was here and-

 “Whoa there Ringo! You got on this fancy get up for our little Geo?”

 Fucking. Hell. John.

 Ringo let out a nervous laugh “Suppose’ so,  not too fancy I hope. Havn’t got too much money for a proper restaurant...” Ringo scratched the back of his neck. He seemed a little embarrassed, but George was pretty relieved. He wasn’t into fancy smacy places like that anyhow.

 But- he was into getting out of here with Ringo as soon as possible before John kept talking. Which was the perfect incentive to push his nerves away for a bit.

 “WELL- Guess will be going then! See ya fellas!” George was already walking down the steps and quickly leading Ringo away before those two ruined the date before it even starts.  

 “You better have him home at a respectable time young man!!!” John yelled out after them which made George cringe. Gosh those two I swear-

 George ran a hand up his hair. “Sorry about them, they’re a piece of work.”

 Ringo snickered, “Funny though, don’t worry, bet they pick on ya’ too much huh?”

 “You don’t know the half of it.”

 George and Ringo were walking down Grosse Freiheit, opposite corner from the KaiserKeller where they worked and typically spent their time. George hadn’t explored much of this side of town, but it seemed Ringo knew where they were going, so he didn’t mind it.

 It was nearly 3 in the afternoon, so most places had slow business. Once it neared about 5, that’s when most of the sailor, drunkards, and “fast women” slipped out for the nightlife. Despite the occasional peek of a prostitute in the day, most afternoons were strangely quiet considering this was a red light district.

 When George arrived in Hamburg, the idea of living in such loose city, with so much sex and alcohol seemed exciting, but other than the advantage of drinking, George wasn’t too into the easy sex. John and Paul tried to set him up once, but he ended up horrified, having not been with a women and being pretty certain he was gay at that point. That only solidified it. He ended up sending her away, she didn’t seem to bothered by it. Probably just looked like a spooked young boy.

 Paul stuck around to apologize about it. Make sure he was okay. If anything George was almost happy to know he didn’t fancy girls. John and Paul were always so defensive about it, but when George was having thoughts like that- it felt comforting to know his friends were the same way. That they could understand.

 George saw Ringo veering toward the right. They must be close. The walkway was definitely in more uncharted territory, but- a little more secluded. Ringo reached out his hand suddenly, and George hesitated. Sure there wasn’t anyone around, and the area didn’t persecute lads holding hands, but- it was still out in public, and George didn’t quite feel comfortable for that just yet.

 Ringo’s smile softened and he lowered his hand into his trouser pocket. “No worries Georgie, the place is right back here, follow me.”

 George walked with Ringo down a narrow alleyway leading to a wooden doorway on the side of the building. Already regretting not taking Ringo’s hand, but certainly thankful Richie wasn’t offended by his apprehension.

  A quick knock on the door, and it was soon opened up by another fellow. Clean looking boy with rosy cheeks and a slender chin, about Paul’s age or older maybe.

 “Afternoon Richard, back again so soon?” The boy smiled, clearly pleased to see Richard here. Where- wherever they were. George felt his arms tense, hoping he wasn’t already feeling jealousy on the date that’s barely started. “Where’s your tall friend?” He continued, while giving George a disappointed side glare.

 “Afternoon! Awe this isn’t much his scene really, he’s more interested in birds.” Ringo looked past the boy, and pointed over his shoulder to a booth past the bar-room.

 “Mind if we have a seat over that way?” Before the boy could give answer Ringo was already sliding through the doorway with George in tow.

 Now standing inside, George could really get a load of the place. It was definitely a bar, but why it was so hidden away was beyond him. It played great music out of some speakers, which seemed to be connected to the local radio. It was pretty full too, especially for this hour, but no one seemed to be very rowdy, mostly just dancing or a having a nice drink.

 One thing that did catch Georges eye was the clientele. Every person inside was a bloke. Not a single girl in sight. 

 “Ringo? Is- is this a gay bar?”

 Ringo stopped in front of the booth and looked back at George shyly.

 “I- yes, it’s pretty classy, but I wasn’t sure, you know? If you’d been to one before.” George tilted his head, in all honesty he had never seen one before now. It just seemed like they were myths considering how well hidden they were. Not to mention John, Paul, and George never played in gar bars, or expressed interest in one before. Though, Ringo’s logic made sense, why not go to a place that’s guaranteed to be safe for a first date. Not having to watch your back if he wanted to hold Ringo’s hand or maybe share a kiss.

 “I’m… I haven't, but I really like it here, seems like a perfect first date spot to me.” George smiled, sliding into the booth.

 The date started out really great. Ringo was even more adorable on dates. He ordered them both some drinks and they sipped away talking. It felt like they spoke for hours on end. Ringo was so fun to talk to, he was cute and much more cheeky than expected. He had the cutest little blush when George decided to move over to Ringo’s side and sit beside him in the booth. Letting his shoulder graze next to each other.

 The topic of how they ended up in Hamburg came up, and George talked about meeting John and Paul, and about how they let him join the band. The band that feels like his family, like he was always meant to be apart of them. He told Ringo stories and pranks they all pulled on each other, and about how he practically had to knock sense into them both about their feelings for each other.

 “They were fighting like mad all the time. Mostly John, pushing Paul away n’stuff.”

 Ringo listened attentively, “You could tell? That they were… pushing each other?”

 “Definitely, those two were inseparable, and the way John looked at Paul and the way Paul looked at John- you knew. I knew for sure. John had hurt Paul real bad one day, said he didn’t need him around anymore. Paul was devastated.  I had to talk with John and get it sorted out.”

 “How’d that go?”

 “Basically told him to get his shit together and tell Paul how he felt. Honestly, I’m surprised the bastard listened.” George laughed letting his little pointed teeth stick out a tad.

 “So… how long have you known… you um.. fancied...” Ringo paused, trying to find the right words for the question, but George had a feeling he knew.

 “A couple years now… I had a couple girlfriends back in Liverpool, but it never really took. I knew I fancied boys, but I didn’t know for sure if I fancied girls too or not. Nowadays, I know I’m gay, but I’ve-” George paused feeling embarrassment flush on his face. He almost wanted to end the conversation there, hoping Ringo wouldn't push him further, but the look in those blue eyes. The soft, sweet way Ringo listened and gazed back at George. Like he was savoring everything, every look and word George gave him.

George wasn’t afraid, no, not around Ringo.

 “I-um… I haven’t had a boyfriend before.”

 George felt his hand shake at his sides, feeling unsure… clearly Ringo had been around more often, he was older after all, and knew about gay bars, probably had a boyfriend once or twice too. George didn’t know this stuff, he’d only ever kissed a boy once and neither spoke about it after the fact. Would Ringo want some inexperienced lad who-

 George felt a sudden warmth interlock with his shaking fingertips. He moved his gaze back to Ringo. He was holding onto his hands, rubbing his thumb over each knuckle. Smoothing the tremor that left the joint until they were steady and calm. 

 I might faint.

 “Hey, neither have I okay? I’m still new to this too, but I know I like you George. A lot.”

 George blinked wildly. Ringo was new to this?

 Ringo could see George’s confusion considering their current place of establishment and chuckled. “I’ve known I am for awhile, me mum even had an idea about it when I was younger, she could just tell I never fancied girls, but finding fellas ain’t easy and not exactly safe. So no, I haven’t either. Did find this place with me mate Johnny though, but he’s just a best mate, doesn’t really swing that way.”

 Somehow knowing dates and boyfriends were a bit of new territory for Ringo brought George lots of comfort. He could feel his shoulders slack under his jacket. He wanted to loosen up, really just enjoy the date. Show Ringo a good time.

 Hurriedly, George stood up from the booth pulling Ringo up with him. The radio had several patrons out of their seats and swinging to a solid tune. A jazzy one, clearly hitting the backbeat like a rock n’ roller. George gave Ritchie a cocky grin and twisted his arm around giving Ringo a spin. George did little kicks and fancy moves with his feet, while Ringo showed off his funny little moves on the dance floor as well. Being honest, Ringo’s dances were outright ridiculous, but- in an endearing kind of way. He was silly and smiling so wide. Really enjoying himself when he danced with George and purposely tried to make him laugh with funky jumps and head shakes. George loved how funny Ringo was, the way he could just go along with things and make it 10 times better? The way his smile peeked out when those teddy boy curls bounced on his forehead, George was ready to spend the rest of the night like this. Giggling like school boys.

 As it got later, the dancing got a little too crowded for both the boys’ taste, and they decided to step out for the night. The walk was much longer going back, probably because the two weren’t quite ready for the date to be over just yet.

 “You really do look handsome this evening George.” Ringo remarked as they walked the chilly street back to the cinema.

 George grinned with his cheeky fangs and bumped Ringo with his arm. “How bout’ a kiss then? Paul worked real hard to get me all dressed up like this. Got to have a little credit where credits due.” George leaned into the lads shoulder, batting his eyelashes for dramatic effect.

 Ringo applauded the flirtation, clearly George was getting more comfortable. Very coy.

 “Sorry, I don’t kiss vamps on the first date.”He quipped, poking the side of George’s cheek playfully.

 Had this not been their first date George would have half a mind to marry Ringo on the spot. The way they bounced off each other so easily was unbelievable. The only fault was that the date was ending so soon. The streets here are just so complicated and… adult. Nothing simple, like burger joints or parks. George hated the idea of only being able to go out in the afternoons. Nightlife here was just so loud and indecent. “Gosh, maybe one of these days we can catch a bus out of here, go somewhere a little more normal.” George said gazing out ahead at countless street lights that dawned every corner.

 Ringo’s eyes widened. “You want to go out again then?”

 George felt his throat shrink. Oh fuck- You idiot. He was already daydreaming about the next date without even knowing if there was going to BE ONE.

 “If- you wanted. I thought- I mean. This one seemed to be going really well, but if your not interested I completely-” stop rambling please oh god please stop.

 “George!” George thanked Ringo internally for stopping him before he dug his grave even further.

 “I’d love to go on another date with you.’

 George thought he was going to say something, but his brain decided to go out of commission in that moment. Ringo didn’t seem to mind, the look on George’s face told him everything he needed to know. This was special. This thing between them, very special.

 It was quiet on the streets surprisingly. Not a prostitute or drunk in sight near the back of the cinema. It was nearly 9:30, which was hopefully “respectable” for John, but George wasn’t ready for it to be over, not just yet.

 George stopped before the steps to the door and turned to Ringo. His nerves that had been present throughout the evening had vanished, something about how he was feeling, the look in Ringo’s eyes. He felt like he was staring into the ocean. So welcoming, and vibrant. How could he stand here and not be utterly at peace?

 Ringo soon moved surprisingly close him. George wasn’t sure what it meant at first, but to be fair, there were lots of things that George didn’t know.

 He didn’t know his lovestruck crush would stand before him tonight and gingerly touch his cheek, or that he’d get so close they’d share a cold breath in a Hamburg alleyway. George would never have thought months ago, when he first met the boy, that he too would lean into the embrace. That George would get to wrap his arms around Ringo’s waist, slipping past his jacket and rest his palms on the small of the drummer’s back. He didn’t know that they’d glace down to those soft lips. Unconsciously waiting… for what? He wasn’t quite sure. Yes, he was.

 Ringo’s hand gilded behind his neck. Stroking his thumb gently under George’s jaw. George felt a shiver go up his spine. Feeling his heart pounding like crazy. He wanted this. He really did. All night he dreamt of the event that occurred that night, about the feeling of kissing Ringo, the way his lips felt on his. He was so close to that again, only this time, he wanted Ringo to kiss him. 

 The drummer hesitated. They had kissed before, but the fervor in the air that filled the non existent space between them was thick. Both of the boys breaths were seen in the cold air as they exchanged them. Ringo lids fluttered, and George let his own shut. Darkness allowing every touch and caress to feel all the more real. Abruptly, a hand tugged the collar of his leather jacket slightly, and he was pulled into those lips again. Both bodies immediately reacting as the two shared an earnest kiss. Ringo taking control with impelling affection.

 It was delightful but chaste, far too short for the guitarist’s liking. When they separated a moment, George barely gave Ringo time to catch his breath before pressing forward and allowing his tongue to slide past his lips. His fleeting impulse crashed into Ringo, and his hands clenched at the fabric of his striped shirt.  Ringo responded with matched eagerness and the two were soon both kissing with more passion than they’d ever felt before. George even let a soft moan slide past his lips as he felt Ringo tangle his fingers further into his hair.

 Neither wanted to stop, but George’s head was already getting dizzy and Ringo’s footing was starting to give way on the edge of the steps. They both reluctantly separated, and caught their breaths still not bearing any space between them, chests heaving with cold air against one another. George just wanted to stay here with Ringo in his arms, barely able to stand and looking just as dazed as George probably does.

 “Gee Ringo…” George’s lip twitch upward. “I thought you didn’t kiss vamps on the first date.”

Chapter 3 here!

#the beatles #beatles fanfiction #George Harrison #Ringo Starr #starrison #starrison fic #McLennon #beatles fic #paul mccartney #John Lennon #hamburg #blisters on his fingers #rory storm and the hurricanes

[watchtowerindistress]

We are not our masks (1/25) - Bruce Wayne x Reader

This is probably an older story but I decided to add this to my collection despite the character having a fixed name.

Summary: Ellie Rhodes knew she lived a pretty normal life - living in a world where superheroes were a daily occurrence - but who could have predicted that all of that would change as soon as she encountered the Bat of Gotham? Not to mention the second she crossed paths with the infamous billionaire and bachelor, Bruce Wayne.

Warning: language

Vote for the Batfamily fancast

ao3 buy me a cuppa

And there's a storm you're starting

I'm a wanderess

I'm a one night stand

Don't belong to no city

Don't belong to no man

I'm the violence in the pouring rain

I'm a hurricane

-Hurricane by Halsey-

"No, I just arrived this week. This time I want to stay here," Ellie said into her phone. Her feet moved up and down in her apartment, while putting her essentials in her bag. She always had this routine down to pat, where she needed something to do with herself when she started a new job.

"Wow, you're actually the only person I know who would willingly want to move to and stay in Gotham."

"Gotham's not so bad. It has…character."

Ellie heard her friend chuckle sardonically. "And here you are defending your hometown."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I'd rather be here in this crime-infested city than Amnesty Bay in fucking Maine," Ellie assured her best friend.

"Oh, you just know how to hurt my feelings, don't you?"

She glanced at the clock and noted that it was almost time to leave. "Okay, Alyssa, have to run now, hon."

Alyssa sighed. "Okay, you go take care of those defenseless computers and," her voice lowered to a whisper, "if you see Bruce Wayne, pretty please, take a picture and tell me if he's as yummy as people say."

Ellie rolled her eyes, knowing that her friend was being silly. "You have a boyfriend, Lyss."

"And I'm allowed to look, as far as I'm concerned."

Ellie laughed wholeheartedly. "Fine. Although it seems highly unlikely for an IT girl to meet the CEO of a leading international multi corporation. Bye."

"Bye, sweetie," Alyssa said before hanging up.

Ellie prepared her messenger bag with her tablet, a bagel, and a coffee-filled travel mug before making her way out to Wayne Enterprises by car. This morning she'd received an email from the company notifying her of a problem with their main server, possibly a virus, but it was nothing she hadn't handled before.

A security guard handed her a visitor's pass as she stepped into the waiting area. Ellie thought nothing of the resounding 'ding' in the lobby until she heard footsteps heading in her direction when footsteps were nearing her. Out of reflex, she stood up to greet the person and her eyes widened in surprise when she recognized the man standing before her.

"Lucius Fox," was all Ellie found herself able to say, her mind taking a seat on the sidelines, it seemed.

Lucius chuckled, a sound Ellie wouldn't have expected from the head of R&D. "That was supposed to be my line. You must be Elizabeth Rhodes." They shook hands, and Ellie might have held his hand longer than was the norm.

A blush rose to her cheeks as she shook her head in apology and stumbled over her following words. "I'm sorry, you're essentially my tech idol. I wasn't aware you'd be escorting me! And Ellie's just fine, or whatever."

"Miss Rhodes. Come on this way." With an amused glint in his eyes, he gestured straight ahead. She grabbed her things with a bashful chuckle as he led her to the elevators. While they waited for blinking numbers inside the elevator to reach 22, Lucius briefed her on the situation.

"Thank you for arriving on such short notice. It was a bit of a critical problem."

"Of course! That's what I'm here for." She waved a hand casually. "What's the matter?"

"For starters, normally we'd bring it to our Head of IT department, but unfortunately he's unavailable and I thought we'd let this problem be handled by someone objective and trustworthy. Your firm has some high reviews from our partner firms in Metropolis and Central City."

"Happy to help. Can you elaborate on the problem?"

"On my expertise, I'd say it's a virus, but I've never seen a virus like this." The elevator dinged open on their intended floor.

She furrowed her brows in puzzlement. "Okay. My interest is piqued." At his raised eyebrow, she backpedaled (maybe needlessly). "I mean, my tech interest is piqued. I like a good puzzle. I really hope I can help." She bit her lower lip in admonishment, hoping to shut herself up.

"I hope so, too."

"Okay, now … this … looks bad," Ellie stated ominously.

"Hmm," Lucius hummed in agreement. "How long do you think this will take?" He turned his body towards her to give her his attention.

"Give me 12 hours." Ellie said lightly before giggling. "I always wanted to say that."

Lucius, already anticipating her quirkiness, merely smirked to himself. "Suit yourself. If you need anything, just let Brenda at the front desk know."

"Sure." She flashed him a smile, and with that he left her to her own devices. That was her favorite part of her work — the peace and quiet that gave her time to think and to be on her own.

Though now, meeting Lucius Fox was a close second.

She focused on her task and connected her tablet to the mainframe. As far as Ellie could tell, this virus seemed deeply rooted and didn't appear overly hostile, just … siphoning. She knew that such a virus couldn't be put there remotely; it had to be done manually. Well, it looked like there was rotten egg, if not a few, in Wayne Enterprises.

With a little poking around, she could find out what this polymorph was targeting and who the bad egg at Wayne Enterprises was.

Well, the good news was that it didn't take twelve hours to find the culprit. Granted, it was difficult at first, due to this virus changing its pattern constantly, but she managed. Ellie felt relieved as she rode with Brenda down to the R&D department, to Mr. Fox's office or lab or whatever. The bad news was that she had to deliver the bad news to him.

"I'll leave you to it, then," the short, kind woman said, excusing herself.

"Thank you." Ellie took the time to admire the floor-to-ceiling windows on her left as she drew nearer to Lucius. She stopped short and took a deep calming breath when she saw him transfixed in his own work, his head slightly bent over his table and his hand guiding a pen over a stack of papers. Ellie knocked on the door frame and smiled nervously when she got his attention.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Fox?"

Lucius took a look at his watch and raised his eyebrows. "I heard you were fast," he remarked, impressed, as he stood to greet her.

Ellie laughed shyly at that and waved her tablet. "I found the problem. I just wanted you to tell me how to deal with it regarding the … situation."

This seemed to sober up the usually joyful man,who crossed his arms in serious focus. "Elaborate."

"So," she laid her tablet on his desk to display their problems, "the siphon was after two specific things. For one, it was extracting money in small amounts from the pension fund, and for another, it was stealing secret corporation details." With a few taps, Ellie brought up a list of monetary values, showcasing their dilemma and articles mentioning confidential Wayne Enterprises secrets quoted by an anonymous source.

"I see," Lucius murmured with a grave voice.

"The thing is, the siphon could only be implanted manually by someone who had exclusive access to the server room," Ellie admitted, already anticipating Lucius' next question.

"Do you know who it was?"

"Your Head of IT. Robert Orville."

A long pause filled the room with trepidation before Lucius responded. "Thank you, dear," he offered gratefully.

"Mr. Fox, I know whatever you decide about Mr. Orville is your choice, but what do you want me to do about the siphon?"

"Make sure it's cut out of the systems."

"Of course." Ellie tucked her tablet under her arm and went to see herself out before remembering something and turning back to Lucius. "I took the liberty of putting the money back, Mr. Fox. I hope you don't mind."

Lucius raised his eyes to meet hers.. "Thank you, dear. Oh, and before I forget, would you like to come to a fundraiser tomorrow night, Miss Rhodes? I know it's pretty short notice, but consider it a thank you for your contribution today."

"Hm," she hummed in mock consideration. "I might have the time, although…what's it for, penguins?" She shot him a teasing smirk, knowing all too well that Gotham's elite loved throwing fundraisers, charity balls and whatnot.

Lucius laughed at that. His eyes twinkled in delight. "No, but close enough. It's for the reconstruction of the Cobblepot Zoo," he offered lightly.

Smiling fondly, Ellie nodded. "I used to love going there. I guess I have no other plans, so sure. Count me in."

"Wonderful. I'll see you then, Miss Rhodes." Lucius shook her hand in goodbye with a firm grip.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Fox. And sorry again for being a mess before." She still couldn't believe how she'd behaved at the beginning and hoped she could leave a good impression.

"Likewise. And no worries."

#steph writes #i know i don't deserve queue #batman #bruce wayne #batfleck #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x oc #batman x reader #batman x oc #bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne imagines #batman imagines #batman imagine #we are not our masks #batfamily #original female character

[kotofvi]

THE MEGA RP PLOTTING SHEET / MEME.

First and foremost, recall that no one is perfect, we all have witnessed some plotting once which did not went too well, be it because of us or our partner. So here have this, which may help for future plotting. It’s a lot! Yes, but perhaps give your partners some insight? Anyway BOLD what fully applies, italicize if only somewhat.

Mun Name: Leo      Age: 27       Contact: IM, Inbox, Disco

Character(s) I rp: Canon: Shiro, Sebastian, Dirk, Kyoya, Kurama, Nelliel, Maka, Dwicky. OCs: Hades, Google, Emogene, Dominic, Seirios, Iso, Felix, Reeves, Nyx, Zeru, Ren, Charlie, Dakota, Nemo, Bluejay, Koko, BD, Raven, Cora, Sammie, Lucie, Poppie, Ollie, Alphie, Bambi, Abbigail, Hiraeth, Bonnie, Rei, Rory.   Which muse(s) inspires you the most atm?(for MM): Nelliel, Shiro, Rei, Bonnie, Hiraeth.  Current Fandom(s): Bleach, V/LD, Naruto. (I’m not deeply involved in the fandoms themselves anymore.) Fandom(s) you have an AU for:  Uhhhhh.. I basically have an AU for any fandom if I know it well and am asked for it.  My language(s): English. (I’m learning other languages but I don’t RP in them unless it’s just a sentence or two.)  Themes I’m interested in for rp:   Fantasy / Science fiction / Horror / Western / Romance / Thriller / Mystery / Dystopia / Adventure / Modern / Erotic / Crime / Mythology / Classic / History / Renaissance / Medieval / Ancient / War / Family / Politics / Religion / School / Adulthood / Childhood / Apocalyptic / Gods / Sport / Music / Science / Fights / Angst / Smut / Drama / etc. Themes/Genres you have an AU for: Modern, Mythology, Medieval. 

Preferred Thread length: one-liner / 1 para / 2 para / 3+ / novella. (I legit love all lengths, tbh, it’s more so with one-liners I tend to lose interest if there’s no substance to further it.)  Asks can be send by: Mutuals / Non-Mutuals / Personals / Anons. Can Asks be continued?:   YES / NO   only by Mutuals?:  YES / NO. Preferred thread type: crack / casual nothing too deep / serious / deep as heck. Is realism / research important for you in certain themes?:   YES / NO. Are you atm open for new plots?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS.  (I’ve admittedly been v busy, so if you’re fine with me takin’ forever-- YES) Do you handle your draft / ask - count well?:  YES / NO / SOMEWHAT.  How long do you usually take to reply?:  24h / 1 week / 2 weeks / 3+ / months / years. I’m okay with interacting: original characters / a relative of my character (an oc) (It really depends here.) / duplicates / my fandom / crossovers / multi-muses / self-inserts / people with no AU verse for my fandom / canon-divergent portrayals / au-versions (as main or only verse). Do you post more ic or occ?:  IC / OOC.(I post more IC, but the gaps between IC and OOC make it seem like there’s more OOC at times???) Are you selective with following others?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS.  (This is entirely because half the fandoms some of my muses come from are absolute shit so I have to be careful.) 

Best ways to approach you for rp/plotting:  IM or Inbox-- tbh, Just kick my inbox in and screech that you wanna plot/rp with me so long as you’re a mutual. I’m honestly so laid back?? Sure, it might take me a minute but this is entirely because IRL things and not because I’m putting anyone off. 

What expectations do you hold towards your plotting partner:  Having fun? Having ideas? I guess, just, mutual interest? I mean, I’m here to write! I’m here to have fun! If you’re not interested in that much alone then?? I guess bye?? ‘Cause I’ll become very annoying to anyone who doesn’t have an interest purely because I’ll randomly ambush my partners with excitement and ideas. 

When you notice the plotting is rather one-sided, what do you do?:  Oh I’ll just straight up ask if they want to continue the thread or start a new one! I mean, I get it, you can lose interest or otherwise just not feel it anymore and that’s fine! If you’re not interested in that particular thread, then no worries, we can always start more! If you’re just being one-sided in general, however?? I’m not gonna be interested at all and I’ll likely tell you as such. 

How do you usually plot with others, do you give input or leave most work towards your partner?:  Normally it’ll just happen? I’ll do my “Hey what if they ___” thing and then a rapid bombardment of inquiries and excitement later, there is a thread. It’s usually mutual, the involvement of creating this plot, but sometimes it’s just me being excited and them being excited and then suddenly BAM THERE BE THREADS. S’all good over here! 

When a partner drops the thread, do you wish to know?:   YES / NO / DEPENDS. - And why?: I mean?? I’d like to know, yes! But I get that sometimes it’s incredibly anxiety ridden trying to tell someone that you’ve lost interest in a thread. It’s alright if you don’t tell me, but if you can muster up the courage to do so I’d appreciate it! I’m not gonna be upset at you for losing interest/muse in a thread! If I cared deeply about the story, I might poke at you and then you can tell me?? Either way it’s fine and tbh, I don’t mind. However, please let it be known that you can take forever on a reply as well so don’t worry about just hoarding a draft too! Tbh, I had someone reply to a thread literally a year later and I was still excited for it!  - What should your partner do when dropping a thread?:  Just shoot me an IM or hell, make a list of threads you’re dropping and tag me in it??? Which ever! Or don’t even tell me at all, whatever works for you sugar! 

What could possibly lead you to drop a thread?:  Hmn, being overwhelmed-- I tend to accumulate a lot of drafts and 90% of them are long so sometimes I’ll drop a thread or two to help myself get by. Also lack of muse/interest is a factor. I won’t drop a thread purely out of being overwhelmed unless I just can’t muster up the muse to respond to it.  - Will you tell your partner?:   YES / NO / DEPENDS. Sometimes I get overwhelmed myself and I’ll drop a thread, forget to tell my partner, etc. Other times I’ll tell them before I even delete the draft! 

Is communication in the rpc important to you?   YES / NO. - And why?:  Yes and no~ Yes primarily! I get that others can take a minute to muster up the courage to talk to others and would just prefer to keep things to a few sentences at first! However, I can and will ambush you with conversation and interest nonetheless. Because communication is important. If you’ve got something you wanna say to me, say it! I’m here for it!  - Are you okay with absolute honesty, even if it may means hearing something negative about you and/or portrayal?:  Yup! If you’ve got an issue or something that might come across as criticism to say, say it! Civil discussion is absolutely wanted here and I would like to work out any issues you may have with me or my portrayal.  - Do you think you can handle such situation in a mature way?  YES / NO.

Why do you rp again, is there a goal?:  To write and have fun! To explore in depth the characters I create or take on! I mean, c’mon, lbr here-- my gremlin ass muses require some more in depth speculation and investigation into their characters! I love the creativity, the world building, the constant drive to do better and to make others feel something from words alone. The capability to rend emotion from another living being simply from reading and reacting to something I created is amazing and I want to make others cry, laugh, smile and think. I want to create. 

Wishlist, be it plots or scenarios:  Oh man, there’s an endless supply of things I’d like to do! I want to explore the depths of my muses’ histories more?? Like Shiro, I want to write out the things he must’ve seen, felt, experienced. How Nelliel was when she was alive, how Shiro fared in the Arena when he wasn’t fighting, Seb’s life torn between the various throws of data and reality-- there’s so much! And ALL THE AU’s!!!! All of them!!!  

Themes I won’t ever rp / explore: Sure, I work with a lot of darker themes like torture, gore, etc-- but I will not write Rape, sexual abuse, nor will I write child loss.  

What Type of Starters do you prefer / dislike, can’t work with?: I can work with most starters! However, if I’m randomly given a starter that I can’t work with for the muse selected, I’ll inform the person who wrote it! I appreciate the effort given but don’t expect me to be able to reply to every random starter given! Sometimes, they don’t even show up in my tag. 

What type of characters catch your interest the most?:  Okay, I’m a sucker for the underdogs, aggressive folks and the villains. I’m not even going to try and lie and say I don’t immediately look at the Aizens and Kenpachis and go ah yes, those fucking gremlins, give me ten. I also love the background characters? The side characters in a show that seem so unimportant but have a crucial role? I love characters that have such an obscure involvement that you have to stop and ask why and how their involvement was crucial. I also love the soft beans? The ones who are so hyped with positivity and gleaming interest that they just can’t be ignored?? But then turn around and whoop some poor sap’s ass with that sparkle sparkle smile. Also love the upstanding moral types that also acknowledge that some things can’t be avoided and that morality is a grey area dependent on the perceptions of the individuals themselves. 

What type of characters catch your interest the least?:  Hmn-- I guess the kind that don’t seem to have much substance to them? The ones that are just uncharacteristically too kind. Yes, I love the overwhelmingly positive types but?? Also?? The ones that are too kind and without flaw just?? Don’t strike me as interesting. Also the ones that are just cruel for some obscure reason just to give them a reason to be villains. I mean I understand but also?? Villains don’t have to have a reason?? They can be cruel just to be cruel. Idk that’s always just been a thing with me.

What are your strong aspects as rp partner?:  I guess that I’m fairly laid back? I don’t mind if you take 10 years to reply, I’m going to get excited if you message me with some random idea, I’m not going to be bothered by any ideas you suggest?? I can also sometimes give u doodles?? I don’t have time to doodle a lot but sometimes, once in a blue moon, you’ll get a random offering of doodled booty for ur blessing. Also gonna hit you up with random HCs, ideas, threads, etc?? Always?? Idk, I’m not too good at thinking about positive aspects of myself lmfao. 

What are your weak aspects as rp partner?: Hnnn, I’m too laid back at times. I take too long to reply and I’m busy af IRL. I’m often goaded into being irritated by some asshole or another so I can come off aggro af too when I don’t mean to be. Sometimes I can get overwhelmed and disappear for a week, other times I can end up overwhelming someone else by being too excited? I tend to watch how much I do and say because I feel like I might come off as smothering and am too used to being shut down and told to shut up so I just don’t?? Do anything sometimes. I’m also not very good at initiating contact sometimes so I tend to go days and weeks without speaking to others. 

Do you rp smut?:  YES / NO. Do you prefer to go into detail?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS. Are you okay with black curtain?:  YES / NO. - When do you rp smut? More out of fun or character development?:  Usually only if it’s developmental for the characters involved. Sometimes it’s just fun to do! It really depends on the characters involved + if I have any muse in general for it.  - Anything you would not want to rp there?:  ???? Kinda vague, Idk? I mean if I don’t wanna rp somethin’ I’ll say so. 

Are ships important to you?:   YES / NO. Would you say your blog is ship-focused?:   YES / NO. Do you use read more?:  YES / NO / SOMETIMES. Are you: Multi-Ship / Single-Ship / Dual-Ship  —  Multiverse / Singleverse. - What do you love to explore the most in your ships?:  The relationship, the depth of two muses who can be wildly different or even similar. The multifaceted involvement of others to that relationship, the angst, the arguments, the sad moments along with all the happy things and how hard one might try while the other is cold-- etc. I don’t just want happy dates and sunshine, that’s not how relationships work after all!   - What is your smut tag?: Kettledrums

Are you okay with pre-established relationships?: YES / NO. - And what kind of ones?: I like a lot of pre-established relationships! However, I can be a tad wary of child muses? Aka: The ones who are children of one of my muses. Reason being, sometimes even I don’t know how they’d raise a child so the muse in question would be off putting to me because it’s out of my realm. Beyond that, I’m down for just about everything! 

► SECTION ABOUT YOUR MUSE.

- What could possibly make your Muse interesting towards others, why should they rp with this particular character of yours now, what possible plots do they offer?:  Since I have so many damn muses, I’mma just go with Shiro for all of this-- I suppose what they could find interesting is his very multifaceted dynamic as a soldier, human, technical non-human (Zombae), war worn, space exploring person. He can be rainbows and sunshine but also can suddenly become incredibly aggressive and cold. He’s not one or the other, he’s all and everything that he’s learned and encompassed while still remaining fragile and human in the end. Writing with him can be inspiring and can be soul wrenching, depending on the thread. As for plots, dude your character could be in space in one thread if the otherwise couldn’t be. There’s so many ways to go about writing with him?? He’s such an amazing character and the plots he can be instilled in are almost limitless with just his main verse. 

- With what type of Muses do you usually struggle to rp with?:   Hmn-- I guess the main one I have issues injecting him into place with would be the ones who are strictly non-tech oriented?? I mean, I can still have him there but getting him to fit is just?? Really difficult. Also with people who RP villains of his fandom and expect him not to be volatile. I’m sorry, but if you’re writing a S.endak or a Z.arkon-- you’re not going to get roses and butterflies with Shiro, plain and simple. If that’s something you can’t accept then don’t approach him with those muses.  - With what type of Muses do they usually work well with?:  He works really well with most anyone! So long as one goes into it knowing he can be hostile with soldiers, Galra, etc; then he can be used no matter what. He’s one of my most capable muses that doesn’t have much of an issue when it comes to responding. 

- What interests your Muse(s) in general:  Space, mechanics, biomedical engineering, people, freedom, fighting for a cause, flowers, his mother, violin, cats, sparring, getting stronger, constellations, nebulae, engineering, literature, alien languages, cooking. - What do they desire, is their goal?:  The safety of others, the freedom of others, the ability to choose, hope-- he wants to make sure those he cares for and all others are free and safe from the Galra take over.  - What catches their interest first when meeting someone new?:  How they look at him. If they show signs of pity, of fear, he tends to walk away from any possible meeting with them. Otherwise, their appearance is what first catches his eye. How they dress, how they respond to him, how they talk and if he can make them crack a smile with an awkward joke.  - What do they value in a person?:  Hope, Strength, Loyalty, Purpose, Honesty, Patience. - What themes do they like talking about?:  Shiro’s more of a listener than a talker, but honestly he’ll talk about anything of interest and question anyone’s as well to get them to talk about it. It’s what makes conversation with him easygoing most of the time.  - Which themes bore them?:  Himself. He’ll try to avert any conversation about himself if it’s too personal or too close to something. It’s not so much that it bores him but that type of talk is reserved for those insanely close to him. Also talk of command bores the FUCK out of him. He’s never been one to really like rank. 

- Did they ever went through something traumatic?:  So. Fucking. Much. Between being a prisoner of a war he was never involved with to being told he was a leader of a rebellion for said war, being a prisoner in the Arena and forced to fight and kill others, being held down and sedated as he tried to warn the others, DYING-- this boy has been thru too much.  - What could possibly trigger them?:  Certain noises, textures, Galra, medical equipment, certain lighting.  - What could set them off, enrage them?:  Galra, someone protecting him. - What could lead to an instant kill?:  Any bloodlust towards him or those he cares for. Most of the time, he has this under control and tries to be merciful, give them a chance; but sometimes, especially during an episode; there’s no stopping him from gunning for someone’s throat if they had any intent to harm another or himself. 

- Is there someone /-thing they hate?:  Z.arkon, S.endak, L.otor, H.aggar, Druids, himself a lot of the time. - Is there someone /-thing they love?:   The paladins, space fam in general, his mother, his friends, people in general. 

Is your Muse easy to approach?: YES / NO. - Best ways to approach them?:  Just approach him? Honestly, Shiro’s one of the easiest persons to converse with and get near. That doesn’t mean his guard is dropped, but he’s very easy going a lot of the time outside of battle. So long as you have a reason to approach him (even simpler ones like: his appearance, his arm, etc) then you’re set.  - Where are they usually to find?:  Oof, honestly? Anywhere. Space, Earth, other places-- he’s constantly on the move. If you want a set place, just say somewhere on Earth and I can work with that. 

Something you may still want to point out about your muse?:  Shiro is certainly easy to get along with, but he is not without flaw or issue. He has a plethora of issues even after the fall of the Galra Empire. He’s not without his scars, physical and otherwise. Approaching him is easy but getting close to him is not. Don’t expect him to be an open book. Just because he can talk about war, battle, fighting with a straight face doesn’t mean he wasn’t effected by it. He has suffered greatly and it will show the closer you get to him. 

CONGRATS!!! You managed it, now tag your mutuals! ♥

Tagged by: @skyvar​  [ <3 ] Tagging: IF YOU WANNA PARTAKE IN THIS INSANITY, PLEASE DO AND TAG ME IN IT SO I CAN READ IT!!! 

#Thx Snow I'm dying now #I think I just filled my word quota that I didn't even have #Dash Games; #Long post // #Shiro; #Shiro Tidbits; #But tbh this was fun to do!!

[zombiequincy]

THE MEGA RP PLOTTING SHEET / MEME.

First and foremost, recall that no one is perfect, we all had witnessed some plotting once which did not went too well, be it because of us or our partner. So here have this, which may help for future plotting. It’s a lot! Yes, but perhaps give your partners some insight? Anyway BOLD what fully applies, italicize if only somewhat.

MUN NAME: Hela     AGE: 21       CONTACT: IM

CHARACTER(S): Giselle Gewelle, Yumichika Ayasegawa (inactive)

CURRENT FANDOM(S): Bleach

BLEACH FANDOM(S) YOU HAVE AN AU FOR:  I have gory Bloodborne au but that one just exists in my head on my lonesome.

MY LANGUAGE(S): English and one very specific Middle Eastern dialect.

THEMES I’M INTERESTED IN FOR RP: FANTASY / Science fiction / Horror / WESTERN / ROMANCE / Thriller / MYSTERY / DYSTOPIA / ADVENTURE / MODERN / Erotic / Crime / MYTHOLOGY / Classic / HISTORY / RENAISSANCE / MEDIEVAL / Ancient / WAR / FAMILY / POLITICS / RELIGION / SCHOOL / ADULTHOOD / CHILDHOOD / APOCALYPTIC / GODS / Sport / MUSIC / Science / FIGHTS / ANGST / Smut / DRAMA / etc. 

PREFERRED THREAD LENGTH: one-liner / 1 para / 2 PARA / 3+ / NOVELLA.

ASKS CAN BE SEND BY: MUTUALS / NON-MUTUALS / PERSONALS / ANONS.

CAN ASKS BE CONTINUED?:   YES / NO    only by Mutuals?:  YES / NO.

PREFERRED THREAD TYPE: CRACK / casual nothing too deep / SERIOUS / DEEP AS HECK. (i love it all sorry I am quite the mixed bag lmao)

IS REALISM / RESEARCH IMPORTANT FOR YOU IN CERTAIN THEMES?:   YES / NO. i gotta know what certain human body parts taste like u know

ARE YOU ATM OPEN FOR NEW PLOTS?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS.

DO YOU HANDLE YOUR DRAFT / ASK - COUNT WELL?:  YES / NO / SOMEWHAT. it’s SO BAD FOR ME RN ASGLDKJDJKA i’m very inconsistent i’m so sorry.

HOW LONG DO YOU USUALLY TAKE TO REPLY?: 24H / 1 WEEK / 2 WEEKS / 3+ / months / years. / a lot of it has more to do w my general writing mood and if the thread im writing catches my interest, and rn im writing a TON of really wonderful and fascinating threads so they’re all super captivating for me and i try to reply asap

I’M OKAY WITH INTERACTING: ORIGINAL CHARACTERS / a relative of my character (an oc) / duplicates / MY FANDOM / CROSSOVERS / MULTI-MUSES / self-inserts / people with no AU verse for my fandom / CANON-DIVERGENT PORTRAYALS / AU-VERSIONS.

DO YOU POST MORE IC OR OOC?: IC / OOC. (i have a lot of stupid shit sorry) 

ARE YOU SELECTIVE WITH FOLLOWING OTHERS?: YES / NO / DEPENDS.  

BEST WAYS TO APPROACH YOU FOR RP/PLOTTING: just send me a tumblr instant message, i know it sucks shit but im not comfy releasing my discord w everyone just yet cause i use it for personal use as well. i check tumblr on the daily so if you send me a message chances are i’ll see it and respond!

WHAT EXPECTATIONS DO YOU HOLD TOWARDS YOUR PLOTTING PARTNER:  i guess just be able to put up with my rambling and stopping and starting, a lot of characterisation choices i do go through various stages and its pretty messy so when i communicate that with others it usually ends up equally messy. just be patient with me please.

WHEN YOU NOTICE THE PLOTTING IS RATHER ONE-SIDED, WHAT DO YOU DO?:  i don’t mind! sometimes ppl have more ideas that they want to share first and i’m always super happy to listen to those ideas !! sometimes its nice to have someone with a clear guide or structure and be able to work around that rather than trying to fumble through a plot together.

HOW DO YOU USUALLY PLOT WITH OTHERS, DO YOU GIVE INPUT OR LEAVE MOST WORK TOWARDS YOUR PARTNER?:  i try to map out some basic info abt their characters that i otherwise don’t know from their bio or verses and try to pick out points of confrontation or similarities to expand on with giselle that can be used as points for like a starter to happen. its either that or sometimes i have really stupid ideas i just toss out there like ‘LMAO THEYRE BREAKING SHIT AT DISNEYLAND’ and go buck wild from there if the other person is down. i also always try to warn people or get a gauge for what subjects to avoid and steer clear of considering that giselle is a bit of a Freak(tm) and will say and do bad things.

WHEN A PARTNER DROPS THE THREAD, DO YOU WISH TO KNOW?:   YES / NO / DEPENDS. - And why?: if there’s something giselle did or said that upset you, i would love to know not to repeat it again (since i do still feel pretty new to the rp game, theres still plenty of time for me to make stupid mistakes). if its just a general lack of interest or uncertainty of where the plot should go, then you dont have to tell me i wont take it personally i promise ! 

WHAT COULD POSSIBLY LEAD YOU TO DROP A THREAD?: sometimes i can be made uncomfortable by certain things mentioned... it happens but its rare 

- WILL YOU TELL YOUR PARTNER?:   YES / NO / DEPENDS. i don’t want to upset anyone personally and sometimes explaining the ins and outs of my discomfort make things ten times worse so i just. would rather not.

IS COMMUNICATION IN THE RPC IMPORTANT TO YOU? YES / NO.

- AND WHY?: i am the most nervous person you can meet and my brain is always giving me misinfo abt paranoia and random shit so i having clear concrete communication between two parties abt if something is going wrong or is being received poorly means the world to me.

ARE YOU OKAY WITH ABSOLUTE HONESTY, EVEN IF IT MAY MEANS HEARING SOMETHING NEGA1TIVE ABOUT YOU AND/OR PORTRAYAL?: i need it !! i still feel relatively new to all this and i need to know whats going wrong to improve !! 

DO YOU THINK YOU CAN HANDLE SUCH SITUATION IN A MATURE WAY? YES / NO.

WHY DO YOU RP AGAIN, IS THERE A GOAL?: to help with my confidence in writing! i have v bad anxiety when it comes to sharing my works and i write a lot of other pieces alongside this blog on ao3 and i want to develop my writing skills just in general. when it comes to like the nuts and bolts of why i rp giselle specifically, its mainly to just have fun and have a laugh w my friends who are really awesome quincy writers

WISHLIST, BE IT PLOTS OR SCENARIOS:  OH SO MANY! ive managed to fulfil a lot of my wishlist threads with like, giselle talking to characters she’s already zombified and i love all that angst but i want to do more stupid shit. i want to make it my personal goal to bully every quincy man and woman on sight. although a REAL dream would be if i got to write a thread zombifying a character who managed to escape giselle’s clutches. and more fighting! i want to get better at describing action and fights and i love to write giselle getting beat up and beating people up! more more more!! 

THEMES I WON’T EVER RP / EXPLORE:   hohoho theres a LOT... uh r*pe/dubcon threads for one, even if yeah i know writing it doesnt condone it, it makes me intensely uncomfortable to put my muse in that scenario, i feel like i have an obligation to like, protect her from that shit you know? racism is one i don’t want to transgress, even though i’m a poc, its not really cathartic or groundbreaking to write abt racism in threads its just... really fucking upsetting. also i know the quincy’s have this very close parallel to the whole n*zi imagery and ideology thing going on and i am not about to start even daring to thread that into my writing or bring those allusions and references of real life tragedies into giselle’s threads. i’ve already talked at length abt exploring giselles trans identity in rp and why im not comfortable doing so, so.... yeah! all those i guess.

WHAT TYPE OF STARTERS DO YOU PREFER / DISLIKE, CAN’T WORK WITH?: i like starters where giselle can just immediately get right into being a piece of shit. mise en scene and all that! cut out the build up and just get to the intense horror !! i don’t like starters where its not immediately clear where the characters are standing and what they’re doing and what’s happening around them. those really disorientate me and leave me kinda floundering because i always need some allusion or mention of a setting to ground giselle in a time and place other wise i cant tell what her response should be

WHAT TYPE OF CHARACTERS CATCH YOUR INTEREST THE MOST?:  EVIL WOMEN EVIL WOMEN EVIL WOMEN. also just characters i can wholeheartedly clown on, or also characters who have hidden depths to them and have a single panel of screentime. honestly it’s just all over the place!

WHAT TYPE OF CHARACTERS CATCH YOUR INTEREST THE LEAST?:  angry old men GSADJDKSJA i could never rp yhwach for example or yamamoto because idk. theyre just so crummy and boring to me. i also couldnt rp characters who always have an upper hand in battle like aizen. i like my dumbasses and i like them stupid and adaptive not just, ‘yes i know this because i Know this.’

WHAT ARE YOUR STRONG ASPECTS AS RP PARTNER?: i think im nice...? FKSJDKDJSA idk i hate trying to toot my own horn. sometimes i also think i make funny jokes and im pretty chill and laid back

WHAT ARE YOUR WEAK ASPECTS AS RP PARTNER?: my writing style is inconsistent and adapts to whatever i’m reading so sometimes it’ll be really good and i love it and other times it reads like really bad fanfic and i get carried away far too easily and write novella lengths for threads which should be much shorter. i also get shy a lot and dont think i communicate very effectively but HEYO we’re working on it!

DO YOU RP SMUT?:  YES / NO/ DEPENDS. haven’t had anybody brave enough to try yet lol

DO YOU PREFER TO GO INTO DETAIL?: YES / NO / DEPENDS.

ARE YOU OKAY WITH BLACK CURTAIN?: YES / NO.

- WHEN DO YOU RP SMUT? MORE OUT OF FUN OR CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT?: more for fun i’d imagine because that’s just giselles own attitude to sex and relationships where she doesnt want anything deep. it might show character development in one way of just showing how she regards others in a romantic sense to be used rather than actually appreciated as their own person and show how selfish she is but yeah, more out of fun

- ANYTHING YOU WOULD NOT WANT TO RP THERE?:  theres a few kinks and such but i dont think they’d ever really come up. again, just mainly no r*pe/dubcon.

ARE SHIPS IMPORTANT TO YOU?:   YES / NO lets hope this doesn’t make me sound like an asshole, but its more like a fun little side thing than anything important to giselle’s actual development and characterisation. 

WOULD YOU SAY YOUR BLOG IS SHIP-FOCUSED?: YES / NO. again, hardly anyone is brave enough to try to romance this evil cannibal.

DO YOU USE READ MORE?:  YES / NO / SOMETIMES WHEN I WRITE LONG STUFF.

ARE YOU:  MULTI-SHIP / Single-Ship / Dual-Ship  —  MULTIVERSE / Singleverse.

- WHAT DO YOU LOVE TO EXPLORE THE MOST IN YOUR SHIPS?: more how giselle likes to give over her power or dominate in different circumstances depending on who she’s with and what’s being done. BUT AGAIN, not a whole lot to explore yet.

ARE YOU OKAY WITH PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIPS?: YES / NO. - i mean im down for p much anything if it vibes w giselle.

► SECTION ABOUT YOUR MUSE.

- WHAT COULD POSSIBLY MAKE YOUR MUSE INTERESTING TOWARDS OTHERS, WHY SHOULD THEY RP WITH THIS PARTICULAR CHARACTER OF YOURS NOW, WHAT POSSIBLE PLOTS DO THEY OFFER?: if you want an evil woman to taunt and mock and hurt your muse, she’s your gal. you want her to zombify and ruin your muse, shes also your gal. you want her to insult and maim and injure, she’s also YOUR GAL. basically, if you want to do anything fucked up or sad or scary, she can help with that.

- WITH WHAT TYPE OF MUSES DO YOU USUALLY STRUGGLE TO RP WITH?:  uh muses who get really angry quickly or don’t rise or respond to her jabs and are just kinda like a flatline. theres only so much pestering and annoying she can do until realises its not working and just wanders off

- WHAT DO THEY DESIRE, IS THEIR GOAL?:  to find a goal worth living for.

- WHAT CATCHES THEIR INTEREST FIRST WHEN MEETING SOMEONE NEW?:  appearance she always takes an interest in girls almost right away. age as well because she judges old people. 

- WHAT DO THEY VALUE IN A PERSON?:  a good set of guts to ruin and strong muscles.

- WHAT THEMES DO THEY LIKE TALKING ABOUT?:  women, gore, murder, herself, music, stupid memes, gossip.

- WHICH THEMES BORE THEM?:  politics, history, quincy ideology, soul reaper ideology, hollow physiology.

- DID THEY EVER WENT THROUGH SOMETHING TRAUMATIC?:  her family tried to force the burden of upholding the quincy lineage onto her shoulders, she was thrown into the wrong prison and held in isolation, then pressured to become an undying monster in service of a god and then was nearly killed by that same man and left wandering without guidance or purpose. so, yeah?

- WHAT COULD LEAD TO AN INSTANT KILL?:  transphobia. even a whiff of it in her direction and she’ll gut you like a fish.

- IS THERE SOMEONE /-THING THEY HATE?:  the twink soul reaper who outted her.

IS YOUR MUSE EASY TO APPROACH?: YES / NO. - Best ways to approach them?:  if you’re smart, you’ll bring a big bone for her to chew on and distract her while you ask whatever you want.

SOMETHING YOU MAY STILL WANT TO POINT OUT ABOUT YOUR MUSE?: i love my evil queen!

CONGRATS!!! You managed it, now tag your mutuals! ♥

Tagged by:  @bazzardburner​ cheers chicken boy !!

Tagging: @hyouketsu​ @blooming5th​ @viciousvizard​ @glacies-tempestatem​ and whoever else wishes to do this!!

#dash games #// this took ages....

[justgrazingthetop]

Choose Your Spice- Claude/Felix love triangle

NOTE: This is my first time writing a multi-chapter story, but I was inspired by my love for both cold to warm romances and the flirty, "but you've changed me," relationships. I may be slow updating, but let me know how you like the story so far. I hope you all enjoy.

Sunlight shined on Claude's face making the caramel glow of his skin intensify. He wore a black sweatshirt and dark blue skinny jeans. Sure it was a little warm, but he knew that it was a "look."

He sat on the lawn outside of his dorm room while his forest green eyes peered over the lens of his sunglasses, toward the walking path.

"Hey, loser!" a loud, slightly shrill voice yelled.

"Hilda, how many times do I have to tell you? Projection isn't cute," Claude cooed, patting the spot next to him.

Her pink pigtails bounced up and down with her shoulders as she left out a loud, "Hmph." She set down her backpack and joined her friend on the ground, ruffling his short chestnut hair. "What are you doing out here? You missed Lorenz practically drooling over Professor Manuela in Music Theory."

"I'd rather stay away from him, thanks. Anyways, I'm playing a game."

"What game?"

"I watch people who walk down the path," Claude gestured widely in front of him, "Then, I guess their name, major and life goal based solely on their appearance."

"That's swallow and dumb."

"So, you're in?"

"...You go first."

Claude took a long look at the students walking, waiting to find someone who stuck out to him.

Too plain. Too obvious. Too easy. Claude's eyes lit up when a perfect pupil appeared. "You see that girl in the big sweater and Adidas shorts?"

Hilda turned in his direction, skeptically, "Yeah?"

"Her name is probably Savannah, she loves animals, so I'm guessing she's a Pre Vet major and her life goal is to… save the turtles," Claude said, reaching his hands up and then crossing them behind his head.

Hilda raised her eyebrow, "And what exactly gave you that impression?"

"Well, for starters, she has a keychain of a turtle hanging off her backpack," he pointed to the dangling charm, "And her sweater is from a Vet place nearby. Also, I think she looks like a Savannah."

Hilda wasn't convinced, "You're terrible at this."

"Then, you do it."

"Fine," Hilda began to search through the crowd while she stuck her tongue out in mock concentration.

"That guy, there, in the blue shirt, jeans and a ponytail."

"The one who looks like Sasuke from Naruto?"

Her head swiveled back, "Who?"

Claude sighed, "Go on."

"His name is Felix, he is a business major, and his goal in life is to be the best businessman ever to exist."

"No way. How would you get that out of such a boring outfit?"

"Don't believe me," Hilda winked, "Ask him."

Always willing to call someone out on their bullshit, Claude stood up, dusted himself off, and strolled over to 'Felix.'

"Hey, Felix!"

The man turned around, revealing an annoyed face and sharp eyes, "What do you want?" Except he said it less as a question and more like a warning to get out of his face.

Instead of being turned off, Claude smile grew, "So me and my friend were talking-"

"Great," Felix cut Claude off, "so what does that have to do with me?"

"Let's start again. I'm Claude," he stuck out his hand.

"Felix, but you already knew that. Is there something you needed? Cause if not, I've got a class to go to," Felix responded cooly.

"You know what, nevermind," Claude started backing away, "I wish I could say it was a pleasure."

"Tck, whatever."

Claude walked back to Hilda, whose face was now red with laughter, "I fucking told you so."

"How did you meet a man that charming?" Claude grimaced, not quite know what exactly just happened.

"Oh, he's in my 'Intro to Statistics' class, and we had an icebreaker today. Let's say he 'brought down the mood,'" Hilda frowned and then giggled. "You should've seen your face when he turned around. Maybe next time you'll believe me."

Claude shook his head, "The day I take you at your word is the day I've lost my mind. Listen, I've gotta get to class, but wanna get dinner tonight?"

"Oh? You don't have a date tonight? Has your social life taken a downturn?"

"Oh, Hilda, I'm not Sylvain. I do pick and choose who I spend my nights with," Claude leaned down and offering a hand to help her up, "You just so happen to be my only option."

Swatting his hand away, Hilda stood up and then punched him in the arm.

"Ow!"

"That was a warning. See you around, Claudy."

With that, Claude was left along with his thoughts. He walked back into his dorm, the stench of sweat, and weed, hitting his face as he walked to his room. His roommate Lorenz thankfully wasn't in. A giant map of the world hung on his side of the room, it was gilded on the edges and had an old aged look. It was a stark contrast to the flashy purple cloths that covered the other side of the room and don't get him started on the roses.

He searched through the stacks of books, trying to find the one needed for class.

"Note to self, stop buying books," he said, shaking his head and pulling out his English book.

With that, he was off to class.

Meanwhile

Felix annoyance crept into his face as he walked away from the unwanted interaction with Claude. Who walks up to someone after admitting that they were talking about you with their friend? Not to mention, he had never met Claude before, so how the hell did he know his name? Unless he knew about his father.

He was the son of Rodrigue Fraldarius, the CEO of the Blue Lion Coffee Company, and if he wanted to take over the business one day, he had to outperform his brother Glenn.

He was striding past his fellows, avoiding as many of them as possible, when a cute redhead cut their way through the crowd stopped him, "Felix!"

"Yes, Annette."

"Where are you headed?"

"I'm going to class."

"Class? What class?"

"I have English at 1:30."

Annette looked at the smartwatch on her wrist, "But you don't have class for another hour, why don't we chat for a bit? I miss you, and I haven't seen you since graduation!.

"You know that I have to focus on my classes-"

"To take over the company one day, I know!" She sighed, "But that doesn't mean you can't have any friends. I-We miss you." A blush spread across her cheeks.

Felix softened his face putting a hand awkwardly on her shoulder, "Annette, it's nothing personal."

Balling her fists, Annette pouted, "Give me your planner."

"No."

"Give it to me right now, or I swear to god I will make a scene!" Her voice started to rise.

"Fine!" He dug into his planner and shoved it into her hands, "Just so you know, I don't appreciate the threat."

She hummed, writing down scribbles into his planner, "Okay, next Friday, you are coming to Dorothea's place, and we are going to have a game night. If you don't show up, I will consider you dead to me."

Annette skipped away, and Felix shook his head in disbelief. Looking down at his planner, he saw a heart with the words, "Game Night," in cursive. Felix watched her as she left, thinking about the awkward terms they were on. Everyone knows that whiskey and Felix is not good news, yet Annette wouldn't take no for an answer.

Checking his phone, he saw that class now started in 30 minutes, and he was going to be late for being early. He liked to sit in the middle, not too close to the front to be called, but not too far in the back to be deemed a slacker.

"What a hassle."

When crossing the threshold into his classroom, he stopped to find Claude, that bastard, sitting where he liked to sit.

Damn Annette.

He took the seat one down and opened his book. He decided to ignore everyone else's existence and make it through the next hour.

"Excuse me," A girl's voice broke his concentration, "Is anyone sitting here?"

"Does it look like anyone is sitting there?"

"Ah, I guess not," she forced a half-laugh, "I'll just sit here, I guess."

Felix grunted, refusing to look up at the intrusion. The last thing he needed was another person trying to talk to him while he was trying to train to become the most exceptional businessman ever to live.

"Ah, don't mind him," Claude interrupted, "He's not the friendly type. My name's Claude. What's yours?"

"Linda."

Claude recognized her as the girl he labeled Savannah earlier.

When Felix looked up, he saw a girl with brown hair and brown eyes. Pretty sure, but nothing special.

"Well, Linda, we should share numbers. This way, if one of us misses class, we have a back up for notes."

Felix saw through this ploy. Claude was clearly trying to get into this girl's pants.

"Uh sure, I guess. Not sure what kind of notes I would miss in English," Linda said hesitantly, setting her books on to the desk.

Felix chuckled, "If you want good notes, it's best just to take them yourself." He then glared over to Claude, "And you. Are you already planning on missing class?"

As Claude began to retort, the professor walked into the room and started class. He was a man with shoulder-length green hair and matching eyes. He wore a fitted blazer in a navy blue that was layered over a gold t-shirt and black jeans. Felix thought to himself, "Trying a little hard to fit in with the youth."

"This is English level 1000. If you are not meant to be in this class, please leave," the professor bellowed. A few embarrassed students left the classroom. "Okay, I am Seteth. I will be teaching you how to interpret books in a way you've never thought of before."

"I will not be going over the syllabus as you should have read it on your own time. Instead, I will be assigning groups in this class for discussion," Seteth paused and looked over the room, "No, you may not choose who your partners will be."

A groan came from in the back, "Why not?"

"If you work with friends your whole life, then you will never learn how to see things from a different perspective," Seteth answered.

Felix felt annoyed. He hated working in groups. Every group project he has ever been apart of has been with people who were stupid, lazy, or a hybrid of both.

"You three!" Seteth pointed between Claude, Linda, and Felix, "You will be group C. Exchange numbers and get to know each other." Just as Felix thought his problems couldn't get worse, he got partnered with the one person in class that he already knew he didn't like. The professor set down a worksheet that had big, bold letters at the top that said the worst words put together on Earth Ice Breaker.

Great.

As Linda looked to her right, she noticed Felix is glaring past her, so she smiled at him, "Yeah, I get it, groups kind of suck. Here's my number." She slid a piece of paper over to him. "Just text me your name."

Felix scoffed, "Okay."

Linda decided to leave him alone. She thought to herself, "A man of few words or just an asshole?" She turned toward Claude, "You text me too."

A vibration came from her back pocket, "Already done."

"Awesome, I'll put a group chat together. It will be easier this way to talk to each other."

Linda cleared her throat and picked up a copy of the worksheet, "Oh, this doesn't look too bad. It's only ten questions." Then she quickly felt a chill run through her body when she saw the murderous look on her new brooding teammate's face.

Seteth returned to the front of the class and explained the paper, "You each will interview the person sitting to the left of you. If you are sitting in a line, and have no one to the left of you, interview the last person in your row. After filling out the worksheet, return the paper to me, and you are free to leave. Questions? Great, get started."

This order meant that Felix would interview Linda, Linda would interview Claude and Claude would interview Felix. Claude was interested to learn more about why Felix was such a douche.

"You two can go first," Claude rested back in his seat, taking out his phone to scroll, "I don't mind waiting to go last."

"Okay, number one, what's your major," Felix asked quickly as if the faster he spoke, the faster he could escape this situation.

"Journalism."

"Number two, why did you choose that major?"

"I like learning about people and their lives. You know, giving a voice to those who don't have one," Linda smiled, and Felix rolled his eyes. What an admirable goal, but Felix doubted that it was reachable. The public only cares about people with power or money, but he wasn't going to be the one to tell her.

"Favorite food?"

"Sauerkraut."

"You have got to be kidding me," Claude interrupted, "Who likes sauerkraut?"

"It's only the best food on the planet, and one of the only foods I like that isn't doomed to hurt my health in some way shape or form," Linda defended herself, crossing her arms over her chest covering the words, 'Dog Life.'

"Yeah, but that's still weird."

"Can we please move on?" Felix wrote down her answer and continued, "What is your dream in life?"

"I want to retire with someone I love and own a farm where I take care of rescue dogs."

"I'm not touching that one," Claude laughed, obviously enjoying making fun of this new girl.

"Oh, let me live. It's a dream; it's not supposed to be realistic."

"That isn't true," Felix interrupted, "My dream is to beat my brother and take over my father's company so I can become the most successful businessmen in the world."

Silence.

"That's… nice," Linda hesitantly said, "A little intense, but I guess we all have to have something to live for."

Felix scoffed, "I don't need your approval."

With that, the talking mood was killed, and they finished the rest of the assignment without a hitch. Everyone was packing up their bags and getting ready to leave when Claude's grin grew across his face, "How about we all get together? I don't know that many people around here."

"I don't know that many people either. Plus, I'm all about having study buddies." Linda agreed, plus Claude seemed nice enough to be friends.

"Count me out," Felix spit, starting to pack up his books. "I don't need any more distractions. We can talk during class, but I don't see the need to get close to each other."

"C'mon Felix," Claude pleaded, "It won't work if we aren't all together. It's group bonding."

"No."

"Not even for an hour."

"No."

"What if we brought donuts?"

"I don't like sweets."

"It's okay, Felix, you don't have to," Linda interrupted the stalemate, "Forcing you to come wouldn't be fun anyways. If you do want to show up, then do."

Felix's eyebrows shot up. Was she respecting his boundaries? This behavior was the opposite of how the other people in his life acted. He looked at her, with an unreadable face, and said, "Thanks."

Before Felix left the classroom, Claude yelled, "I'll put the details in group chat." Each one of them knew it was going to be an interesting semester.

#claude x reader #felix x reader #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem 3h #felix fire emblem #claude fire emblem #felix fanfic #claude von reigen #claude fanfic #au #alternate universe #love #romance