#that's it from me tune in next week when i lose my mind again

[lineffability]

in fanfic news, this week I raced through the ENTIRE Garden of Delights series like a madwoman, it's very kinky smut and absolutely porn-focused but has a romance plot underlying it all that will draw you in by the third fic, and as someone who does not usually go for human azcrow this interpretation of them as humans was SO delightful and had me shipping these characters so hard (afab nonbinary crowley who is a little shit and also a mess, and caretaking agender az!! delightful), it also probably unlocked a number of kinks in me and maybe u too (it's a lot of consensual non-con but so so well and carefully done)

#fic rec #that's it from me tune in next week when i lose my mind again #like every week #but this wrecked me I couldn't stop reading the last few installations in a haze #racing towards their well deserved happy end #but the journey is so painfully delicious

[ziggyzolch]

Queen Bee-atch III (Regina George x reader)

These chapters have been up on ao3 and wattpad but I figured i'd put them here as well.

Warnings: Cursing, use of F-slur but its kind of stupid so dont worry

✮✮✮

“You look like hell.” It was Thursday and Janis had invited you over. “Thanks,” you mumble out while pushing past her into her house. You could navigate her house blind, it's basically your second home now. You go into her room and flop straight into her bed. “You still having trouble sleeping?” Janis asks while plopping down onto the floor. She was surrounded by music sheets and crumpled up paper, her guitar on the ground next to her. You sluggishly sit up and look at her, “Yeah, I just can’t stop thinking.” “About what?” “Nothing, I don’t know,” You push the palms of your hands against your eyes.

You and Janis have weekly jam sessions. Chilling with your best friend and learning new songs to play together was your favorite pastime. Damien joins occasionally and sings along since you and Janis can’t sing for shit. At least you think so.

“Let’s just find a song then you can nap on my bed or something.” Janis proposes. Getting up, you pick up the acoustic guitar at the corner of the room and make your way to where she was seated. This week was your turn to pick a song.

“You’ll love this song. I discovered it recently and-”

“It’s Alex G again, isn't it? The chords he uses are so weird!”

“Yeah but-”

“Please tell me you have another song.”

You sigh, “I really thought you’d agree to that one. Let’s just play ‘Where is Your Mind’ or something.”

Janis is tuning her guitar when you get a text from your mother.

-We’re going shopping. I expect you to be at the mall in 20 minutes.-

You groan and lay your whole body onto the ground. “I know I’m already here but can I get a raincheck on the session? My mom is dragging me to go shopping” You sigh while getting up. “Yeah, no worries.” Janis replies, unbothered. God you really needed to sleep.

✮✮✮

“Seriously, mother?” Your mom was holding up a pink shirt with ‘baby gurlz’ plastered on the front. She had dragged you to the mall to upgrade your wardrobe. You needed new clothes because, according to your mother, you looked like an ‘emo beggar’. Your mother rolls her eyes “You dress like a hobo that lives at Hot Topic, baby. No offense.” It’s been 3 hours since you came in and you hadn’t found anything you liked. You take the shirt out of her hands and place it back on the rack.

“Can we just go home? I have an English test tomorrow and I haven’t started studying.” The lie comes out easily. In reality, you just wanted to nap. It’s been 3 days and you’ve gotten a total of 2 hours of sleep. A sigh comes out of your mothers mouth, “You know what, go sit in the car, you’re wearing whatever I buy you. Your outfit is going to be on your desk tomorrow morning.” She could buy you a dinosaur onesie and you wouldn’t care, you just wanted to nap.

✮✮✮

Unsurprisingly, the nap plan didn’t work out. You passed out eventually though, an hour before school, but at least it was something. You were now at your locker, clad in a white crop-top and baby blue skirt that was way too short. You hadn’t actually realized what your mother had picked out until a wide-eyed Damien grabbed your shoulder and dragged you to the bathroom. “Girl, what are you wearing? Also, did you lose weight?” You look at Damien confused, until you turn to the mirror. “Oh what the f-”

“Damien? What poor girl did you drag- the fuck?” Janis looks at you in shock, Cady standing behind her, while you stare back equally mortified. “You look like a pastel emo, dude.” Janis says while walking up to you and spinning you around. You stomp your foot. “Stop! I already feel bad enough.” You whine while pushing Janis off you and turning back to the mirror. Damien walks up behind you and stops your hands that were pulling at your shirt. “Girl you got bod, and those clothes lowkey look good on you.” Your eye roll is interrupted by the bell ringing. Shit.

Your thoughts start going crazy as you’re walking to English class. God they can see my legs! They probably know you don’t usually wear skirts. They’re probably all like: ‘look at her. You know she usually doesn’t wear skirts?’

Before you know it, you're sitting at your desk in English class, looking at your notebook. When did you get here? Huh, time flies when you’re having fun. You’re giggling at your own joke when you hear someone clearing their throat next to you. Regina?

“Did you hear anything I just said? Are you even actually physically present? It’s like I’m talking to a wall.” Regina raises an eyebrow waiting for a response. “Oh uh, hi.” You mumble out pathetically. She lets out a mocking ‘hi’ before continuing, “Anyways, I’ll pick you up after school for our project.” Project? What? You look up at the board and finally notice the list of instructions written down for a book report you had to do, with details of the partners the teacher had assigned. How much of the class had passed? Your question is answered when the bell signaling the end of the period rings.

You stand up too fast and start swaying before Regina gets up and holds you by your waist to steady you. “Woah there, slow down babe,” She pauses and looks you up and down. She bends down slightly to stare directly into your eyes and taps your cheek, “Cute outfit. See you after school.”

She packs her things and walks past you into the hallway.

You really need to sleep.

✮✮✮

It's like the bottom of your skirt was a mountain climber the way it kept hiking up with every step you took. At least it's almost the end of the day. One more period and you'd be on your way home. You were dragging your feet across the hall when you felt a slap on your ass. You turn around to see one of the jocks ,that you couldn't for the life of you remember the name of, smirking down at you.

Curse him out! Why are you just standing there? Your mouth flops open and closed like a fish, trying to come up with a devastating insult.

"F-Faggot."

...What the fuck? Your eyes widened. Before you could properly process what you said, you were pushed up against a locker with the jock impossibly close to you. "Say that again, slut." He grits his teeth, pushing you further into the locker. You're suddenly released and a very angry Regina was holding him by his shirt collar. "Apologize to her." You'd hate to be on the receiving end of the glare she's giving him. He scoffs, "You've gotten soft, Regina. Anyways, I was just giving her a compliment!" Regina's eyes somehow harden even more. "If the next words that come out of your mouth aren't an apology, Shane. I swear to god." His confidence falters and he eventually mumbles out an apology. "Walk away, and take your micro-penis with you."

Regina hears a giggle from below her and her eyes soften as she sees you on the floor. She helps you up and adjusts your clothes.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, it's whatever."

She stares at you for a second.

"Take out your phone."

"What? Why-"

She pulls your phone out of your hand.

"I'm putting in my number, idiot."

What?

"For the project? I'm picking you up after school, remember?"

"Oh yeah. Pfft. Totally."

Giving your phone back and rolling her eyes, she turns away and leaves. From the corner of your eye you catch Janis and Damien stomping over. "Dude, why were you talking to Regina? Also our plan is working, Caddy's growing on them." You look at Janis, confused before she continues, "You need to sleep dude. Whatever we have health together let's find Caddy and get to class." Damien puts his arm around you and you all start walking. "What were you talking about with Regina, by the way?" He questions while adjusting his arm around you, "We got paired up for a project. A book report or something." You avoid bringing up the fact that you got harassed.

You love Janis and Damien, truly, but they tend to be a little overprotective. "Hah! What a nightmare!" Janis laughs. You look down at the floor, your face turning slightly red, mumbling, "She isn't that bad." The conversation dies out as you approach the classroom, Cady greeting you at the door. "Hey! So, Aaron invited me to this Halloween party..." Cady's voice fades as you sit down and put your head down onto your desk.

✮✮✮

"Nice room, Blondie." You say, going further into Regina's room. She had been waiting for you outside the school in her convertible, making it impossible for you to get out of spending time with her. Despite her recent tolerability, you couldn't forget how she used to treat you.

Regina smiles, "Thanks, Y/N. It was my mom's but I made her trade it."

"Woah. 'Y/N'? Are you going soft on me, Blondie?"

"Shut up."

You walk around her room and spot a couple of vinyls. Green day? My Chemical Romance? The Yeah Yeah Yeahs? The Strokes! What!

"Blondie, you have taste?"

Regina flips around and stomps towards you, taking the 'Stereophonics' vinyl out of your hands. "Stop going through my shit, Gerard." Back to square one.

She watches you adjust your skirt and pull at your shirt uncomfortably. Walking into her closet, she finds a pair of shorts and a loose t-shirt she hadn't worn in years. You were awkwardly standing in the middle of her room before you felt a bunch of clothes hit your face.

The shock passes and you smile at her gratefully while she rolls her eyes and takes a seat at her desk. Should you go to her bathroom? Whatever, she's already seen you shirtless. Her face turns red while she pretends not to notice you changing in front of her. You finish up and take out your laptop, taking a seat on the floor. She swivels her chair to face you, "So, what book were you thinking?" You look up at her, slightly shocked. You didn't think she'd give you a choice.

"Oh. Uh. The Bell Jar?"

"Too bleak."

"It ends nicely though!"

"No! Pick something else."

"Okay, uh, My Year of Rest and Relaxation?" You propose with an eyebrow raised.

She glares at you.

"Are all the books you read just about mentally ill women?"

You sigh, "Pretty much. Oh! What about Matilda!"

She opens her mouth to argue, then pauses for a moment.

"Actually that doesn't sound too bad. Matilda it is."

✮✮✮

An hour passed before Regina looked up from her report and found you curled up on her floor, your laptop discarded to the side. After putting away your laptop, she approaches you and stares down at you. Hands on her hips, she looks around before letting out a breath and picking you up. "Gina?" You mumble out.

She shushes you and places you on her bed. "No. No, it's fine. I have to finish the report." Attempting to sit up, you whine when she pushes you back onto her bed. "We have a week till it's due. Rest." She leaves no room to argue as she tucks you in. "No! Oh wow. Your bed is so comfortable." Your eyes start drifting close and the last thing you see is Regina placing a kiss on your head.

✮✮✮

"I mean I've been dressing up as a mouse since freshman year, why would I change now?" Karen's voice takes you out of your blissful slumber. How long have you been asleep? "You're barely even a mouse, Karen." You could hear Gretchen reply. The sun had started setting, from what you could tell. You sit up, rubbing your eyes and looking around the room. Gretchen and Karen were sitting on the floor while Cady was laying above the sheets next to you. "Hey sleepyhead!" Cady pinches your cheek and tackles you when you try to push her away. She straddles your waist and starts tickling you. "Dude!...Stop!" You say in between giggles.

"What's going on here?" Regina must've been in the bathroom, "Finally up? I was getting ready to call the funeral house, Gerard." She was wearing sweatpants and a tank top. You accidentally glance down at her chest and turn away quickly, blushing, unaware of Regina's knowing smirk. She must've changed when you wear asleep.

Cady finally stops her assault on you. "Ha. Ha" You roll your eyes, moving to get up when Cady grabs your arm and pulls you back down, "Did you wrestle a bear or something?" Looking down to see what she was talking about, you notice a huge hand shaped bruise on your shoulder. You can feel everybody's eyes on you. "Oh, I fell during PE. It's nothing" You shrug her hand away and rub your shoulder, walking towards the walk-in closet, ignoring Regina's eyes burning a hole in your back. Bending down to pick up your clothes, a bright pink book catches your attention.

"Hey. Why didn't you tell Cady about Shane- No!" Regina's eyes widen as rushes towards you and pulls the book out of your hand. It's too late, your page had been the first one you found when you opened the book. Standing up, your voice wavers, "Thank you for being so accommodating, I'll get out of your hair now." You bump your shoulder into her getting out of the closet, hurting yourself more than her.

The silence that followed after you slammed the door on your way out was loud. Regina plops down next to Karen and Gretchen, Cady following after her. Running her hands through her hair, Regina sighs and stares at her bedroom door.

"Fuck."

✮✮✮

#regina george x reader #regina george imagine #mean girls imagines #mean girls 2024 #fanfic #wlw #regina george #mean girls #renee rapp #renee rapp x reader #regina george x you #mean girls the musical #regina george is a lesbian #wlw fiction #regina george icons

[obxsummer]

HEARTFIRST // JJ Maybank

pairing: JJ Maybank x Routledge!Reader

warnings: mentions of abuse, sibling drama, nothing too drastic

request: heyy i have a fic idea! so i thought you could do a secret relationship jj x reader (john bs sis) and jj shows up at her window beaten up and she cleans him up and they go to bed; then he has a nightmare and wakes up screaming and JB sees how good they are for each other? idk if that makes sense hahaha!

navigation 

more from the SUBJECT TO CHANGE series

--

John B was pissed. Fuming. Ready to strangle his best friend of too many years for something so stupid. There had always been one rule since JJ Maybank and John Booker Routledge became best friends: you were off limits. Y/N Routledge was not to be flirted with, dated, looked at, or spoken to unless John B approved it. 

At first, it didn’t matter. Growing up as kids, John B had his friends and you had yours but once your dad dove headfirst into a treasure hunt, everything went to shit. Kiara’s Kook year had really screwed up your relationship, leaving JJ and Pope to fill in the gaps which pulled you closer and closer with your brother and his friends. You were teenagers then and everything felt so important and critical, even if it wasn’t. 

So when John B realized his best friend and his sister were together, there was nothing that could stop him from losing his shit on the two of you.

Met him at a party, accidentally brushed his body On the way to get a drink at the bar I couldn't wait 'til later, talking in the elevator Then we're kissing in the back of the car

The kegger idea had really sounded good at first; it was something to get your minds off your missing father, not to mention the sudden dead bodies popping up from the hurricane. None of it seemed too out of place for you, minus the newfound treasure hunting, but you were always up for a good party. 

“Where the hell did you find a keg on such short notice?” You asked JJ as the two of you hauled the large object down towards the Boneyard. You never really thought about how quickly JJ managed to find alcohol when it was for a party. It was common knowledge that he just knew where to go and how to do it. 

“Don’t you worry about that, Birdie. You know I’ve got my ways.”

The party was in full swing a few hours later. You’d spent most of your time with John B and Sarah before dipping to find the boy that seemed to be taking up most of your mind. JJ had been occupied with beer pong for a good portion of the last hour and you were determined to break him away.

That voice in my head says to slow down But it can't see the way you're looking at me right now It may not be next week, what I need Then again, maybe it might be

The drink in your hand sloshed over the rim of the cup as someone ran into your side in their drunken stumbling. JJ’s attention moved to you instantly. He’d always been so in tune with you and your presence but it only got stronger ever since your dad left. 

The previously occupied beat-up table full of red solo cups was left behind in trade for your company, JJ instantly taking your hand in his as he twirled you. He would give up so much to watch you smile like that every day. You deserved every bit of happiness that came to you because it certainly didn’t come often. 

Your laughter was infectious and JJ was drunk on it. He didn’t know who made the move or who threw the back door of the Twinkie open but shit, your skin was so soft and JJ just couldn’t stop kissing you. 

The line between friends and more slowly disappeared between you and JJ. At some point, your bed became his, and his clothes blended with yours. The thrill of hiding from the Pogues was exciting, sneaking moments when the two of you could to enjoy the one thing you had to yourselves.

JJ was everything to you and yet, it terrified you. You’ve never had a person to connect with in the way you did with him. The thought of your friends, of your brother, being pissed about what was going on was suffocating. What if this fucked up the group? What if JJ left you for someone else when he got bored? JJ was always quick to shut that idea down. 

“We’ve grown up together, Birdie. Kinda stupid of them to think something wasn’t gonna happen within the group at some point, right?” Which was always followed by: “You’re it for me. Now get outta that pretty little head and let me love on you.”

He had a point, but then again when JJ was pressing kisses down your neck, you never could think clearly.

Could be forever or we might break That's just the kind of risk that we take My head is yelling that I could get hurt But I'm gonna jump right in Baby, with my heart first

“You wanna tell them?” JJ’s voice was muffled as he spoke into the skin of your shoulder. The two of you were sitting on the porch of the Chateau, watching bemused as Kiara and Pope challenged Sarah and John B to an intense game of cards out on the dock. 

You sat beside the blond boy. To any observing eyes, it would just look like two friends having a civil conversation. To you, JJ’s hand was behind your back, fingers gently moving across the skin of your hip that wasn’t covered by the t-shirt over your swimsuit. 

“No.” Your answer didn’t have any anger or harshness behind it. You simply just loved having JJ all to yourself, with no judgment or prying eyes. No pressure to make it something neither of you wanted. It felt selfish to a point to keep something from your friends, from your brother. 

“Get out of your head.”

A smile made its way onto your face as you took the risk of leaning your head against JJ’s shoulder, tucking further into his side. JJ was so warm, his tan skin from constant surfing smooth against your cheek. It scared you sometimes, how comfortable everything was when it involved him. 

JJ’s heart skipped watching you be so relaxed, so vulnerable around him. He’d been so used to living on the edge and being tense for so long that it was so… vulnerable, so healing to have someone feel protected and safe enough to be by his side. 

Who knows what'll happen, ain't that always kinda magic When you don't know who's holding the cards Could be a wish I never knew ya or permanently tattoo ya Only the moon knows what's in the stars (what's in the stars)

You were pissed. You don’t know at what point John B thought he could parent you when the two of you were so close in age. Who was he after all this time to think he could boss you around?

“How long? How long has this been going on?” John B’s voice almost rattled the windows, echoing around the space surrounding you and JJ. The two of you stood there awkwardly like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar. 

“Three months,” Your whisper was almost incoherent. Your eyes were trained on the ground, heart thumping in your chest so loud you figured JJ could probably hear it. This was the risk that came with not telling them, with keeping secrets amongst Pogues. God, there were so many stupid rules. 

John B’s hand slammed against the counter. “Three-Three months? God. I just…There was one rule. One fucking rule JJ. You promised!”

JJ visibly flinched at the anger in John B’s statement. That was true; JJ did promise John B he’d never get with you, never hurt you. All of that flew out the door the moment JJ saw you at that kegger. He had to risk it.

“I’m..I’m sorry, man! It just happened, okay? And-and we didn’t want to tell you guys because we didn’t want something like this to happen!”

“Well it’s happening,” John B scoffed with a shake of his head. The disappointment on his face was suffocating and you felt like you would burst into tears at any second. It wasn’t fair. Being forced apart when you knew you loved JJ? How is that fair?

John B shifted further into your line of vision. “Get the fuck out. Now. And don’t let me see you two near each other until I figure this out, got it?”

You looked up in a panic. “John B-”

“Do not argue with me right now. I don’t want to talk to you.” The look in your brother’s eyes left no room for argument. You’d never seen him this mad, especially toward you. 

JJ’s fingers squeezed your wrist lightly before he shuffled out the door behind you. The creaky hinges filled the room as you and John B stared at each other, waiting for the other to break. 

The fridge door popped open when your brother finally decided to move to grab a beer. Part of you wanted to run after JJ, to prove to John B that you didn’t have to listen to him. The problem was, you knew JJ respected your brother too much to let you do that for him. 

“You didn’t have to be so harsh on him,” You mumbled when you mustered up enough courage. John B tended to be… touch and go when he was angry. There was a risk of setting off another fuse if you didn’t watch what you said. 

As kids, JJ always picked on your brother for inheriting your dad’s temper. John B hated that it was true. To your relief, your brother let out a sigh and placed both of his hands on the counter. He felt instant regret watching JJ flinch at the noise level, knowing exactly what happened in the Maybank house when nobody else was around. “I know.” 

“I can’t tell you that I’m gonna stop being with him,” You admitted, holding your ground while you had the chance. You crossed your arms over your chest. “I respect your opinion a lot, Booker, but if it means staying away from JJ, I’ll learn to live without it.”

 It was a little more aggressive than you intended for it to be but it needed to be said. You moved through the kitchen to your room without another word. 

Mm, that voice in my head says to slow down But it can't feel your hands on my hips right now It may not be next year, what I need Then again, maybe it might be

JJ felt horrible for doing this. He knew he was playing with fire but as he pushed up your bedroom window, he couldn’t really bring himself to care. He could deal with John B later. Right now, he really needed you. 

He was a little less than graceful stumbling through your window in the darkness, but he found his way eventually. You shifted awake from his rustled movements and caught a quick glance at his silhouette before turning to flick the light on. “JJ? What’s wrong? Do you need-”

“Nothin’. Sorry to wake you, Birdie. Just wanted to see you.” You could tell he was avoiding meeting your eyes as he kicked off his shoes. The coloration of bruising was beginning to show through his abdomen and you shook your head slightly. JJ didn’t like to explain when his dad treated him like this. He kept quiet and you didn’t push him because he would always talk when he wanted to about what happened. 

So, you turned the lights off and cuddled up next to him, hoping you would wake up before John B saw anything.

JJ didn’t always have nightmares when it came to his dad, but whatever happened was terrible enough that he did. Half the time they weren’t even about his dad hitting him; it always involved his dad hurting you. 

The blond’s sharp movements woke you up before the screaming did. You didn’t hesitate to pull him closer, his hands grasping your hips to hold as you settled across his lap. His shirt puddled on your thighs as he let his fingers drift across your bare skin above your pajama shorts. JJ tucked his face in your neck and just listened to your heartbeat, reassuring him that you were right here and you were safe.

John B couldn’t say he was pleased to be woken up at 5:00 in the morning. Even less so when the alarm clock involved screaming. It wasn’t your voice though, and he didn’t know if that was a relief or something to be worried about. 

You didn’t flinch when your brother threw your door open to reveal the sight within. You knew he could see the fact that the two of you were fully clothed and clearly, everything was okay… well, as okay as it could be. 

Eyes moving to look at John B, you prayed he wouldn’t say anything while JJ was so upset. To your surprise and gratitude, he didn’t. He stared at both of you for a moment as the realization settled in. The realization that you were old enough to make these decisions for yourself and as much as John B wanted to protect you, to protect you and JJ, he couldn’t keep you apart. 

John B gave you a small nod and mouthed to let him know if you or JJ needed anything. You gave him a forced smile back, a barely there ‘thank you’ leaving your lips as you hugged your boyfriend tighter to your chest. 

As your bedroom door closed, you had this overwhelming sense of relief that maybe…maybe it would all work out after all. 

I gotta have ya, gotta see if this works I gotta have ya, wake up in your t-shirt I gotta have ya, diving in heart first

#obx3celebration #jj maybank #outer banks x reader #obx3 #obx #outer banks #outer banks imagine #jj outer banks #jj maybank x routledge!reader #jj maybank imagine #obx x reader #jj x reader #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank series #stc series #routledge!reader #outer banks angst #jj maybank angst #outer banks netflix

[grimreaperschild]

guitar practice 4

summary: sad excuse for a plot thickens and wednesday pays you an untimely visit

warnings: swearing, wednesday level affection

a/n: some flashbacks and we get to see rs abilities sorry i took a while to get this out lol been enjoying summer, gonna post some drabbles soon hopefully, any ideas or requests greatly appreciated also let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist it wouldn’t let me tag some people so if i didn’t tag you im sorry, happy reading!-🦷

———————————————————————

you wake with a start sitting up sweat sticking your (y/h/c) to your forehead, turning to your bedside table you pick up your phone and check the time 2:44am the clock reads, you groan. looking over at the other side of your dorm yoko is snoring softly, no practicing in here then.

letting out a content sigh you push open the door to your studio letting the familiar scenery put you at ease, the “studio” was actually just a room tucked into the far corner of nevermore academy’s many winding hallways, the walls covered in your spray paint cans covering the shelf’s a small sofa big enough to seat 3 sat dejectedly in the corner your amp next to it a line of mirrors on the left side that opened up to closet space that you still hadn’t found a use for.

you throw yourself onto the sofa pressing your palms to your eyes it’s starting again his voice rings clear in your mind, “yes, yes i can see that” you mutter pressing into your eyes more.

the nightmares always got worse near parents weekend, the buzz of all the students making your heart thrum in your chest, your palms sweat in class and he seems to follow you everywhere, hovering over your shoulder voice penetrating your mind, usually you could swipe him away his body dissipating into the air leaving you in peace y/n “callum, stop.” you all but whined but it was too late.

you know i don’t blame you

that’s all it took for the memories you had tried so desperately to push down to rush back leaving deep gashes as they claw steadily to the front of your mind.

“your a monster” your mother screamed chocking on her tears no. bright blue and red flashes danced off the walls as the body bag was thrown into the back of the ambulance stop no. you grab at your chest as your breathing comes out in ragged gasps fire spreading from your fingertips to your elbows you close your eyes focusing on your breathing like your therapist (dr kimbot) had taught you, eventually your breathing evened out and you cracked open your eyes looking at the charred remains of your sleep shirt, you frown that’s the 3rd time this week and it’s only wednesday, oh, wednesday.

you shake your head clearing the name from your mind, you pick up one of your many guitars this being one of your favourite acoustics, your dad had made it for you when you were 12 you rub your fingers over the engraving “to my daughter the love and light of my life don’t ever give up- pa” you smile sadly strumming to ensure it was still in tune you quickly lose yourself in the music.

a familiar chord progression slips from your fingers and you freeze realising what you’d played the memories flashing through your mind

“nes” you giggled at the girl’s unimpressed expression “baby it’s not that hard” she swats your hand away from hers that’s resting on the body of your guitar, she frowns nimble fingers struggling to stretch into the correct position for the chord you where currently trying to teach her, you lean back and observe the girl the light from the rising sun was casting her in a golden glow her brown eyes twinkling when she finally sounded out the chord “told you it wasn’t hard” she hummed eyes coming to meet yours “sometimes i dream about dissecting you, i imagine there’s fire flowing through your veins” the ghost of a smile on her lips at the thought, you snort “your morbid wednesday” “i want our remains to be burned together” she says completely ignoring your last statement “romantic” you quip back a smile on your lips, she stands “come cara mia i have a surprise for you” she doesn’t wait for you as she steps back through the window into her dorm

your crying?

the comment snaps you out of your mind you reach up and feel your cheeks are wet “i guess i am” go on tell your big brother you watch as his form jumps over the back of the sofa landing with a soft thud his toothy grin putting you at ease “im older than you now” i still age when im dead y/n, don’t take that from me.

you chuckle at how serious he’s being “yes sir” you mock salute him giggling as he pulls his lips into a thin line still waiting for an answer to his previous question, you wait for a second knowing your not going to be able to avoid this one you take a deep breath readying yourself “im scared to see mum again cal, and wednesday won’t stop starting at me and enid and i don’t even know what me and enid are and i miss you and i hate being an outcast” you rush out all in one breath then in a much smaller voice you add “and i hate that i see dead people, i hate that all i do is destroy things and the more i feel the more i lose control, god i’ve set so much on fire recently” you sink back into the chair feeling deflated.

he leans forward your not cruel y/n, your damaged, damaged goods are still good.

you say nothing letting his words wash over you, you push yourself up off the sofa checking your phone 5am blinks back at you and you take your dnd off watching the plethora of messages, mainly from enid pour through

3:24am

(enid❤️): y/n you ok? yoko said your not in your bed?

(enid❤️): your worrying me bby

4:50am

(enid❤️): y/n i’ve given you as much space as i can, please answer your phone.

4:55am

(yoko🧛‍♀️): told enid your probs in your studio good luck and god speed my friend

you giggle at that last message shooting a quick one back before focusing back on enid’s chat

(y/n): don’t wait up for me

you smile as yet another message comes through from enid

(enid❤️): ur lights on can i come in? x

(y/n): come in enid, the doors always unlocked for you x

you slip your phone into your back pocket as the door opens and closes you turn back to the sofa a hollow feeling in your chest as you realise callum’s given you and enid space, she gasps when she sees you “you’ve been crying” you hum too tired to reply and she puts her hands on your forearms taking in your burned t “the nightmares have started haven’t they?” you nod pulling her with you to the sofa and pulling her into your lap arms tight around her waist her hands come up to massage your scalp kissing your head.

your not sure when you fell asleep but you wake up sprawled out over enid her arms around you in a protective manner, you yawn and suddenly an icy feeling makes it’s way down your spine as you look up and make eye contact with wednesday, she’s stood at the door impassive expression on her face you untangle yourself from enid without waking her standing and padding over to her “your not welcome here anymore wednesday” you whisper yell at her, she opens her mouth to speak closes it again thinks finds the right words and takes a step forward towards you “i have accepted tyler’s invite to the raven, i understand you and enid will be there together, you must know i will have you back”

you stand in stunned silence as she continues taking another step towards you “i know you, i know you still think of me, im utterly devoted to you but you must let my investigation run its course” you take a step back towards the sleeping blond suddenly not liking how far away you are “that’s sweet, didn’t know you had it in you, good for you wednesday but your actions make your words meaningless, now if you’ll excuse me im sure im late enough for parents day as it is” you take another step back checking the time.

1:23pm

your eyes near jump out of your head

shit.

“enid” you yelp and she jumps and slinks out of the room like a kicked dog before enid can spot her “enid” you shout this time and it finally stirs her out of her slumber groaning at the bright light of your studio room “what” she grumbles not being a morning person “it’s half 1” she jumps up at the realisation “fuck” “yeah. fuck.” she scrambles to the door grabbing your hand and pulling you with her as she runs for your dorm as it’s closest throwing the door open and going straight to your closet “yeah help yourself” you call out chuckling at the girls antics, a shirt hits you square in the face as she tumbles out half dressed in your joggers and a hoodie.

“put that on keep the joggers you have on now we don’t have time, shit they’ve been here for 2 hours” you hum anxiety spiking as you picture your mums face, you grab enid’s arm as she attempts to rush past you while pulling her shoes back on, you pull her flush against you “good luck with your family today text me im gonna miss you” she smiles reaching up to peck you on the lips “remember to call me if it gets too much n/n, good luck too” she kisses you again sweetly and then she’s gone out the door and down the hall before you even blink.

your left alone in your room tear tracks on your cheeks the tattered remains of a t-shirt clinging to your body the fresh one enid threw at you in your hands, you sigh, again.

come on trooper, let’s do this together

you smile as cal forms in-front of you, at least being able to talk to the dead meant you could be haunted by your favourite sibling.

———————————————————————

tag list: @allison-iloveyou @thedemoninme141 @alphaniner1415 @ctrlamira

#jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #enid sinclair x reader #jenna ortega #emma myers #emma myers x reader #enid sinclair

[anotherblinder]

My Sunshine

Summary || A trip down memory lane

Word Count || 1,004

Pairing || Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warnings || Angst, Reader Death, Mention of blood, Mention of sex and nudity

Note || Hello, it had been awhile! It has been a rough week, and i had found myself singing you are my sunshine. I realized i tend to do it as a comfort thing when things get really rough. Even if it tends to make me kinda cry. It seems that day was today. But don’t worry, it was just built up stress and I’m okay! Only I sing my own little one with a couple words changed, as i like how it sounds to me. This time as i softly sang it to myself this popped into my head and thought I would share it. I hope you all enjoy it! Also please, i don’t own the song. It would just make a good fic. I claim nothing man. Please don't steal my work

You are my sunshine

Bright, beautiful, warm, that’s how Tommy felt as he looked at you. The woman who loved him without hesitation. The mess he is, the ugly parts of him, the one he didn’t really want. It was a wonder to him how you could, but he didn’t think about it much. Not when he held the sun in his heart. Nothing could compare to the warmth you made him feel. The fullness he felt and never wanted to let go. The shine in your eyes every time your radiant smile graced your face.  

My only sunshine  

Nothing made him happier, brightened his world like you could. His family made him feel happy, but not like you. It's like a weight is always lifted off his shoulders when he’s around you. Just being next to you. It had always been that way. For as long as Thomas has known you. Deep down, he wanted to be selfish and keep you all to himself. Trap that shine and have it as only his, and you let him. Where he was somber like the moon, you were mellow like the sun.

You make me happy when skies are grey

It seemed to always go like this. He would come home late, beat the shit out of him. Looking and feeling like death; but you never faltered. Gently wiping away the blood and tending his wound with a touch he felt he didn’t deserve in that moment. The small, soft, loving smile as you did it. Or when his head got the better of him and the demons came blazing in. Tearing everything apart and making it hard to breathe. Thomas would feel your arms around him, humming a soft tune, and everything would melt away. Silence would enter his head and make it feel as though he could breathe again.

You’ll never know dear how much I love you

How could he properly express how much he loves you? Thomas felt as though he never would be able too. Sometimes, he felt as though you knew, that’s what he told himself. But there are moments he hesitates that you do. Thomas knows he would do anything for you, take a bullet for you, a beating, hell even death and the devil himself. He tried to show that as well in the actions he did. Buy you things he thought would make you happy or look even more beautiful in. When he takes you to bed and makes love to you, hoping you can feel the love he pours into it. But he feels it’s never enough, you’ll never know the extent of his love.

Please don’t take my sunshine away

There wasn’t anything that could take you from him. It was a thought Thomas never let cross his mind. Least that’s what he told himself. To move through that fear of losing you. It was suffocating, never can Thomas stay on that image. Even when he banishes, it lingers in the back of his mind.

The other night dear, while I was sleeping

It was a long day and Thomas didn’t hesitate to fall into bed and fall asleep. A rest his body needed after the day he had. Long and tiring. Nearly getting in a fight, shots being fired, new deals needing to be made. Anything to keep him going.

I dreamt I held you in my arms

Sunlight shined though the window and he felt warm. The dip in the bed beside him, making a smile come to his lips. Turning over, he slung an arm over your waist, looking down at you. Sleeping like the world had already woken up. Shifting, he laid back down on the bed and pulled you into his arms. Close to his chest and heart. Feeling the warmth radiating off of you. Making the cold air around him disappear and he kissed the top of your head and fell back asleep.

When I awoke dear, I was mistaken

Slowly Thomas opened his eyes and felt that warmth slowly vanish. Sunlight streamed through the blinds and a heavy feeling came over him. Empty, hollow, cold. Slowly he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. The cold air pricked his skin, but he paid it no mind. Taking a deep breath, he looked over his shoulder. To the spot you used to sleep, the warmth that would come from that side of the bed in the mornings. Who would put that warmth there.

And I held my head and cried

Turning his head away, Thomas felt the familiar tightening of his throat. The heaviness on his chest, the stinging sensation in his eyes. Taking a shaky breath, he placed his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands. A broken sob escaped him as he recalled the dream that felt so real. How he secretly hoped it was. The scene played in his head, you lying there in his arms. Blood staining his shirt, his heart, his soul, his sun. If only he had been faster. If only.

You are my sunshine

"Are you sure? There are other woman far better to be on your arm than me Tommy.”

“No, there is only you, please, marry me. Give me the honor of calling you (Y/n) Shelby. My wife.”

“Yes, I love you, Thomas. My husband.”

My only sunshine  

“There is no place I’d rather be than here with you.”

“Oh? Is that because I'm here naked next to you Tommy?”

“That does help.”

You make me happy when skies are grey

“You shouldn’t be getting your hands dirty over me (Y/n).”

“I’ll dirty my hands over you until they fall off Thomas. It’s my job to care for you.”

You’ll never know dear how much I love you

“I love you so much, I don’t say it enough but I do.”

“I love you too Tommy. As the sun falls and the moon rises.”

“Please don’t take my sunshine away.”

#thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby imagine #angst #i had to do it #youre welcome

[moralesmilesanhour]

what you're searching for.

summary: Margo goes to a shitty poetry slam and gets more out of it than she expects. wc: 4.9k warnings: alcohol consumption, and it's like very VERY lightly implied that they had an Adult Sleepover if you get my meaning. Nothing really too suggestive in here I promise. One singular reference to a tiktok. a/n: this took me a whole ass week but I'm very proud of where my writing style is going! somewhat inspired by the film 'Love Jones'. If you enjoyed this pls feel free to leave your thoughts or your favorite line if you have one! EDIT: OH MY GOD I FORGOT TO ADD: the first poem is actually taken from the Junior novel 'Miles Morales: Suspended' by Jason Reynolds! The poem at the end is mine though lmao I'm not the best poet

Margo can’t stand poetry.

Someone gets up in front of you with a piece of paper clutched in their hands, and recites what is simultaneously the most vague and the most painfully obvious string of fragmented sentences you’ve ever heard as if they’d just touched your soul.

It’s not rapping, not preaching, but the ugly middle child standing between them. Some odd bastardization of music for people who thought they were too smart for either of the first two, but weren't brave enough to just give speeches.

Speeches, at least, are coherent, specific, and can be scrutinized.

So far, sitting in the front row of the bar that her classmate Zoe had invited her to for poetry night, no one has changed her mind. 

Tonight’s performances consisted of an assembly line of men (and a couple of women) in vintage sweaters ranting about their exes to the rhythm of bongo drums, or some mildly relevant social issue that none had the lexicon to really say anything in stanzas that hasn’t already been said. She had heard nothing yet that sounded much more profound than an Instagram post.

Although, one girl had come up and recited a short poem about her late mother that Margo thought was quite sweet, and the least tortuous to sit through.

The crowd erupted in snaps again for a poet with long braided dreads and an ankh tattoo whose words she had tuned out. The host took the mic and announced the final (thank god) participant:

“Now this next one I had to practically drag over here to get him to share his beautiful poetry with us tonight. Everyone, please give a warm welcome to one of my close friends and colleagues, Miles Morales!”

A lanky young man–Margo suspects about six feet even, given the way he’s towering over the host–awkwardly shuffles over to the center of the stage, offering the crowd a tight-lipped smile. 

He’s in a plain green sweater with the sleeves hastily rolled up to his elbows and a bomber jacket tied around his waist. As soon as he’s handed the microphone, it seems to dawn on him that there’s no turning back, and his body visibly tenses. 

He clearly just got here, and for once Margo doesn’t know what to expect.

Squinting beneath the bright spotlight, he clears his throat and speaks into the mic. 

“Um, hi.”

A few scattered ‘hi’s from the crowd.

There’s something bright and sweet in the tone of his voice that makes him sound a little boyish, and she wonders what he could possibly have under his sleeve that warranted him getting dragged up here last minute.

He takes a deep breath.

“It’s said

That nobody

Is ever more

Than ten feet

From a spider.”

Miles began the poem carefully, like he was confessing something. 

“They be everywhere you and me are.”

A few members of the crowd laugh, others shudder at the thought and frown. 

“And even though

We see them only

When they big enough to see, or when

They move,

Like a cursor

Across the blank white

Page of a wall…”

His voice loses some of its airiness in exchange for confidence as he recites the rest of the poem, and Margo realizes that he isn’t reading off of anything. 

Either he’s improvising, or he has it entirely memorized.

“Or when we trip

The web-like wire

Of a booby trap

Or when they

Fang our flesh

We should probably

Assume most

Just be right there…”

Miles paused and looked somewhere far beyond the crowd, lifting his arm to point to the back of the room. Then he repeated:

“Right there,

Right here,”

He gestures toward the front row, where his eyes land directly on Margo. It’s not so close to the stage that she can tell for sure, but she thinks she sees a hint of a smile cross his lips.

“Looking at us,

Looking over them.”

Silence. 

His arm falls limply to his side as his eyes frantically scan the audience, searching for some kind of response. 

Then, someone begins to clap. Then another. Then another. WIthin moments, the entire room erupts in applause, causing a shy smile to spread across the young man’s face.

“Uh, thank you!” he says, surprised at the positive reception, before shrinking into himself again and leaving the stage the same way he came.

The host returns and takes the mic from him.

“Miles Morales, everybody!”

-

After the poetry slam, Margo insisted that Zoe take her to the sushi place across the street. It had a bar sitting off to the side, one with significantly less poets. The decorative lights hung directly above the shelf filled with glass bottles and shrouded them in cherry red.

Zoe takes a sip of her sherry and leans in.

“Sooo, how was it?”

“It was a’ight.”

The light-skinned girl’s lips pull into a pout. “Seriously?”

“Hey, I told you poetry wasn’t my thing,” Margo pauses, then amends, “I liked the last guy, though. Breath of fuckin’ fresh air.”

“Right? His style really caught my attention, subtle.”

“Glad you liked it.”

Zoe’s eyes widened as she glanced just beyond Margo’s shoulder.

When Margo turned towards the familiar voice and froze. 

The poet in question was standing just inches away, a friendly smile gracing his features. His jacket is no longer around his waist, neatly folded over his arm like an expensive coat. He is with the excitable darker-skinned man who’d just hosted the event, and a man the shade of sandalwood standing just behind him.

They’re both wearing the same type of muted cardigan as Miles, but they’ve got actual coats.

“Y’all were in the front, right?” Miles asks the both of them, though he’s only looking at Margo.

She nods wordlessly. Zoe picks up the slack.

“M-hm, you were great up there! You’ve really never shown anyone your work ‘till tonight?”

Miles snorts at the wording of the phrase. ‘His work’.

“I wrote that poem in high school,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Wasn’t supposed to be anything serious, but my roommate…” 

He gives the dark-skinned man a dirty look. 

“...swiped my journal and found it. Told me I should read it out loud somewhere.”

Margo examines Miles’ face and imagines him as a baby-faced high-schooler, sitting in the back of the classroom with a protective arm around the beat-up red composition notebook he’s writing in. He stuffs it in his bag as soon as he’s done, because he has just poured his heart out onto that page, and his crush’s name is in there. Maybe there are tiny doodles of her in the margins.

“Yo,” the sandalwood-colored man claps Miles on the shoulder. “We about to hit up Tiff’s place, you coming?”

“Yeah, in a minute,” Miles nods dismissively. “I’ll catch up with y’all.”

The two other men give each other a knowing look before brushing past him.

“Alright man, catch you later then.”

Once she finally regains the ability to speak, Margo remarks, “You were the only performance I really liked, if I’m being honest.”

“Is that so?” 

“Oh yeah, this one hates poetry,” Zoe places a hand on Margo’s shoulder and laughs. “Tried to change her mind by bringing her over here, but no dice.”

Miles raised an eyebrow. “What made mine so different?”

“Hm, I dunno…” Margo’s eyes float over his form before making their way back up to his face. “Your delivery, I guess.”

Safe to say, he looks amusedly unconvinced.

“My…delivery.”

She catches herself and quickly adds, “I-I mean, it also kinda felt like everyone else was trying too hard. So.”

He tilts his head at the remark.

“Are you just saying that to flatter me?”

.“I don’t flatter people. Too close to lying.”

“That sounds like half a poem already. Maybe you should go up there next week.”

She gives him a lopsided smile.

“Only if you’re there. I need something to actually look forward to.”

His tongue darts out and passes over his lips.

“What’s your name?”

“Margo.”

Miles hums, softly repeating the name before inching his way over to the counter where he leans his hip on it.

“Pretty. Can I buy you a drink, Margo?”

She doesn’t think her name is all that pretty, but he makes it sound that way.

“Knock yourself out.”

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Zoe teases as she rises from her seat. “I’m gonna go order us some sushi.”

Miles takes the stool to Margo’s left as he waits on their drinks, his long legs never needing to leave the ground to do so.

He has a funny way of sitting, hands folded neatly in front of him with his back just a few degrees off from being perfectly straight. As if you needed to look distinguished at a sushi bar.

Church boy, Margo guessed. That, or his daddy’s a military man.

It’s adorable either way.

“You in school?” she asked.

“Yup. Princeton.”

Her eyes lit up.

“Oh shit, me too! I’ve never seen you on campus, though. What’s your major?”

“Physics. You?”

“Comp Sci. Been coding since I was in middle school, so…”

Margo remembers the echoing ‘click-clack’ of her keyboard as she sat in an empty computer lab for hours on end after school because she preferred it to her parents’ house.

The bartender hands Miles two glasses of white wine, and he sets the second glass in front of Margo, his warm eyes still focused on her. 

She’s intrigued by how clear they are - no trace of suspicion or calculation behind them. Just the warmth.

“So, where you from? My folks are over in Brooklyn.”

“Georgia.”

Miles’ brows jump to his hairline.

“Damn. What brought you all the way up here?”

To get as far away as possible. 

“Well, it’s Princeton,” she says beneath a forced laugh.

“Yeah, but you got, like, eight different HBCUs over there. How’d Princeton win you over?”

Margo breaks eye contact to stare into her drink.

“Needed a change of pace.”

When she looks up to gauge Miles’ reaction, skepticism is written all over his face. But he doesn’t push it further.

“That’s fair. Princeton’s got a cutting-edge quantum physics program that I’m aiming for. Had to beg my parents to come here,” he grins proudly, “but here I am.”

Margo is silent for a moment.

“Can I tell you something?” she asks suddenly, beckoning Miles to lean in.

“Yeah?”

Grinning, she half-whispers, “I’m actually here on a scholarship.”

He gives her an odd look. 

“Why’d you say it like that? Nothin’ wrong with getting a full ride. The opposite, actually.”

“Some people might feel otherwise. You’re like, the second person I’ve told other than my parents.”

“And why me?” Miles chuckles. “My poetry was just that good?”

“I just…Hm.”

Margo leans back and takes a contemplative sip of her wine, watching him over the rim of her glass. 

Why did she just tell him that?

“I guess I just sorta felt like telling you.”

Margo cautiously sets the wine back down. She figures if she’s not careful, he’ll have her full government name and social security number by the end of the night.

“Y’know, I actually get that a lot,” Miles laughs. “One time, I had this lady I was standing in line with at Target turn around and just start telling me stories about her dead son and how much she misses him. And it’s like, I’m sorry for your loss, but we’re in Target right now and I literally do not know you.”

“Wait, people just go up to you and…tell you shit?”

“Yup. There was this other time at church, too. Just as service ends and I’m about to get up and leave, this short old dude–Dominican, I think–stops me and starts telling me about his entire life. I’m talking start to finish! Apparently I reminded him of his nephew that died in the military or something.”

“Jesus.”

A crease forms between Margo’s brows. She wishes she could say she didn’t understand the old man at church or the lady at Target, but she does. No, it’s not the poetry. It’s got nothing to do with words. 

It’s the way that Miles looks at people. 

Like he already knows all of your secrets, but you’re not worried because they’re safe with him, so might as well tell them. It’s a merciful sort of gaze; you get the impression that he won’t judge you. You might even tell him more after his friendly ‘boy-next-door’ voice coaxes them out of you. The thought unsettles her because she had done just that.

“You ever had a girlfriend before?” She asks, all of a sudden.

Miles shrugs, “Yeah, in tenth grade, then again freshman year. Didn’t really work out.”

“Why not?”

His brows furrow gently for just a second, as if he’s still trying to figure out the answer to that.

“I…don’t know, actually. It goes well the first few months and then…”

“It fizzles out?”

“I get ghosted. Something about how they’re ‘not ready’. Understandable, I guess, but you don’t have to ghost me, y’know?”

He awkwardly examines his fingers, then his glass. 

Margo feels a bit guilty for suddenly bringing up his exes when they’d just met. Would they end up the same way? She saw herself there too, being in a relationship for six months before his weird pastor’s eyes get to be a bit too much and she takes off.

“Yikes, sorry I asked.”

“It’s no problem,” a smile starts to return to his face. “Onto better things, right?”

“Right.”

“And you?”

“Huh?”

“You ever been in a relationship before?”

Margo smiles awkwardly and messes with one of her fingernails.

“Well…not exactly.”

Miles’ eyes widen.

“Never?”

“I mean, guys offer, and then we talk for a little bit, but then…”

“They flake out on you.”

“Pretty much.”

“Damn shame,” he says with a bit of sharpness to his voice. “Not even a first date?”

“Nope, just ‘Read at 4:15’.”

“You know what I think it is?”

Just as he asks this, his knee brushes against her thigh. Margo isn’t sure if it’s an accident, but it distracts her nonetheless.

“What?”

“You’re too smart for them, I can tell. It scares ‘em.” But it doesn’t scare me, is the suggestion.

He smiles then, the kind that shows the whiteness of his teeth on every vowel. It’s wide enough that a dimple comes out of hiding on his left cheek, and she suddenly wants to tell him everything again. She takes another sip of wine.

“So! What’d I miss?”

Zoe finally returns from ordering their sushi at the front with an expectant grin. Miles still hasn’t taken his eyes off of her friend, while she is staring at him like a string of code, which, if you know Margo, is better than nothing.

“You didn’t miss much,” says Margo. “We were just talkin’ about our majors. School stuff.”

Miles checks his phone and lets out a low whistle.

“Well, it was lovely meeting y’all, but I gotta bounce. After getting dragged onstage, I get to be dragged over to a house party, too.”

Just as he rises from his seat, he stops and points at her.

“Before I go, though, d’you mind giving me your digits? I’d love to talk about, uh…computer science…over lunch.”

She snorts, “Who still says ‘digits’?” but hands him her phone anyway. 

It couldn’t hurt to try. 

“Sure.”

His eyes light up as if he wasn’t expecting her to say yes as he saves his number as ‘poetry slam guy’ in her phone, then hands it back.

“Cool,” Miles begins his walk towards the entrance backwards, holding eye contact for just a little longer before turning around. “G’night!”

“Goodnight!” the two women call out in unison as he leaves.

Margo looks to her left at the now-empty bar stool. The glass of wine Miles left on the counter is full, completely untouched.

It’s still on her mind as she's sitting in her single dorm room, re-writing her lecture notes on cyber security in a meticulous neat print that could almost pass for a font.

Every few minutes her pen stops because she’s distracted by the sound of clinking glass in boxes downstairs, or because she pauses to stare at the white wall in front of her that brings to mind one of the lines of Miles’ poem. 

There might be a spider that I can’t see sitting ten feet away from me right this second, she muses to herself. The thought gives her an idea, and the perfect excuse to call him without seeming too desperate.

Margo unlocks her phone and scrolls through her contacts. She smiles to herself at the contact name Miles chose. Did he think she’d forget his name that easily? 

His voice soon filters through the speaker.

“Hey, you didn’t throw out my number!”

“Yup, lucky you.” she replies. “I wanted to ask you a question? About your poem the other night.”

“What about it?”

“See, I was thinking about that first line. Are we really never more than ten feet away from a spider? Like, at any given moment?”

There’s a moment of silence from Miles before he asks:

“You…called me just to ask me that?”

“What? It’s a very pressing issue! There’s probably one in the corner  of my room as we speak!”

“Alright, I’ll humor you,” Miles laughs. “That’s actually a myth from the 90s. Your distance from the nearest spider really depends on where you’re at, so if you’re in a spot with hella bugs, you’re more likely to see one. You’re probably fine.”

“Now wait just a minute!” Margo gasps dramatically. “So you lied to all those poor folks in there?”

“Sure did. Played ‘em all like a fiddle.”

“Terrible.”

“So, why’d you really call? You don’t sound as concerned about spiders as you say you are, if I’m being honest.”

So much for an excuse.

“Don’t nothing get past you, huh?”

This earns a burst of laughter from Miles’ end.

“You’re a worse liar than me, I wouldn’t recommend making it a habit.”

“Ugh, fine,” Margo admits,  “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“You could hear my voice in real life, you know. Offer’s still on the table, and I’m free today.”

Their second conversation, and already a lunch date? But as she’s reminded of what his voice sounds like, she quickly realizes that just the voice is not enough. 

Still, she tries to sound casual and makes a non-committal noise.

“Better than being cooped up in my room all day.”

“Great! Where you wanna go?”

Margo shrugs as if he can see her on the other end.

“Wherever you wanna go.”

“Ah, the ‘wherever you wanna go’ paradox,” he chuckles. “Okay, well–lemme ask you this then. Do you like eating with or without music?”

There’s a beat of silence as she considers.

“Hm…is the music good?”

“I’d never subject anyone to a place that plays shit music. Promise.”

“Music, then.”

“Cool, what time works for you?”

“How does two sound? I’ll catch you in front of the Engineering Library.”

“Bet. See you in an hour, then!”

-

The place Miles chose had a live band playing at the front.

A bass player, a keyboard pianist, a saxophonist, and a few background vocalists on occasion. All are propelled forward by the rapid-fire snare of the drummer. It’s jazz - the easy, conversational kind you hear in the background of 90s romantic comedies where the love interest wears nothing but dark lip liner and filled-in brows with a bit of smokey eyeshadow in the crease.

This is the look that Margo has decided to go for as she sits across from Miles at a mahogany table positioned ideally by the window.

It was all she could do other than frantically adjust the braided 'fro-hawk sitting atop her head and spin around in a mist of ‘Champagne Toast’ before bolting out the door.

She doubts he can even smell it right now through the curry and garlic.

“Figured out what you want yet?” Miles asks as he looks over his menu at Margo.

“Eh, I dunno,” she replies, running her index finger down her own menu. “I’m tryin’ not to blow half my paycheck on pasta right now.”

Miles gives her a strange look, then it clicks.

“Oh! Lunch is on me,” he laughs. “Your bank account’s safe for now.”

Her head snaps up.

“You should’ve mentioned that! I thought we were going half and half this whole time, I had my whole budget for the week planned out.”

Margo has to hold back an ugly cackle at the look of horror on Miles’ face right after she says this.

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that.”

With this new information in mind, she orders a bowl of chicken alfredo with a glass of lemonade that she sips on as the band seamlessly transitions into a cover of Solange’s ‘Cranes in the Sky’.

“So, Margo,” Miles rests his chin on his knuckles and squints his eyes comically. 

“If that is your real name.”

Margo giggles, and plays along.

“It’s not, it’s my alter-ego for when I go on top-secret missions.”

“Is it short for something? Or just Margo?”

“Hm,” she puts on an affected, ‘action movie’ voice, “If I tell you, I might have to kill you.”

“It’s worse ways to die out there.”

Margo looks around her as if to make sure no one’s listening, then leans in.

“It’s short for Marguerite.”

Miles snaps his fingers.

“I knew it!”

“What? You think I look like a Marguerite? Seriously?”

“No, but you got a lil’ country twang in your voice. Ain’t no way in hell Margo wasn’t short for something.”

“Man, alright,” she laughed. 

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that,” he winked, “I like ‘em country.”

“Boy, don’t give me that! You look like you’d pass out at the sight of a jar of pig’s feet.”

“Hey now, I got family in South Carolina. I used to go down there and see about ten of those every summer.”

“Fine, but you were still raised a Northerner. I could hear the Brooklyn from a mile away.”

Miles removed his hand from under his chin to clutch his chest.

“Ugh, I feel like I’m caught between two worlds!”

The reference to one of the more choice lines from the poetry slam makes Margo snort and let out a loud guffaw, which she quickly muffles with the palm of her hand.

“Why would you remind me of that!”

Miles is soon infected by the fit of laughter and has to put all his strength into not doubling over at the table and drawing attention.

“This nigga said,” he wheezed, “ ‘I keep doing the Achy Breaky to Suavemente!’ “

“I thought I was the only one who thought that shit sucked,” Margo sighed as she wiped a tear from her eye. “But I didn’t wanna be mean ‘cuz I’m not like, half Puerto Rican, or anything like that.”

“Well I am, and that whole poem felt like a microaggression. And I knew that guy!” He starts gesturing wildly with his hands at the outrage, which Margo finds hilarious. 

“He's like, one-eighth Boricua. His last name is fuckin’ Schwartz!” Miles scoffs, “He don’t know shit about no damn ‘Suavemente’. Bet he looked it up.”

“You should write your own poem, then. ‘Take up space’, as they say.”

“Hell no,” he said. “I left that behind in high school. The other night was an exception, remember?”

“Look, I’m not one to encourage more people to become poets, but you never know. Something might inspire you.”

Miles calms down and gives her a meaningful look.

“Maybe.”

The rest of the conversation saw Miles slyly gathering intel through bites of roasted chicken. He’d quickly learned from their meeting at the bar that his line of questioning with Margo ought to be less direct.

He even hit her with the ‘what’s your sign’ question, though Biggie would’ve advised against it (Margo was a Libra, he was a Leo). He didn’t actually care for astrology, but Margo wasted no time in proclaiming that she couldn’t stand Scorpios because they were ‘too nosy’. 

Miles’ only error was asking if she’d ever dated–correction–spoken to one, and her eyes hardened with suspicion again. He quickly elected to change the subject.

“Okay, totally random question, but humor me. How do you like your eggs?”

Margo blinks twice.

“What?”

“You heard me. You can tell a lot about a person by what kinda eggs they like, true shit.”

“Alright, fine. I like ‘em fried, with the crispy edges. What that say about me?”

“I dunno, but when I find out it’ll all make sense.”

Margo laughs.

“Okay, well, how do you like your eggs?”

“Scrambled, fluffy,” A childish grin spread across Miles’ lips. “And seasoned with Adobo to make ‘em all orange.”

“Never had ‘em like that before.”

“Maybe I could make some for you sometime, if you’d let me.”

“Maybe.”

She remembers his promise a month later when she wakes up to the aroma of the seasoning and hears the pop of frying oil, letting out a sigh of relief at the realization that Miles is still there.

His back is facing her when she enters the kitchen, the morning light illuminating a tattoo she had never seen before. 

It’s a spider with sprawling legs that cascade all the way down the expanse of skin, the movement of his shoulder blades bringing them partially to life. She hadn’t noticed it in the dark, and he was not one to walk around in anything revealing enough for it to have ever seen daylight. It’s faded, which means he’s likely had it for years.

He’s only twenty-one, she thinks. Did he get it in high school?

Amusement creeps onto Margo’s face at the image of Miles sneaking around the house, darting in and out of the bathroom to clean it without his hawk-eyed mother or straight-edged father taking notice. Picturing this, it’s suddenly much easier to believe that their son would have to beg and plead for them to send him a measly forty-six miles away for school, even for an Ivy League. 

Miles doesn’t turn around yet, but Margo catches the way he stops, tilting his head playfully and placing a hand on his hip.

“Man, I can’t believe I’mma have to eat this whole thing of scrambled eggs all by myself, with the ones I just fried! How sad.” “You’re not very funny,” Margo says with a smile, pulling out a chair from beneath the dining table.

He switches the stove off, then does a dramatic spin to face her with fake surprise on his face.

“Oh! Where’d you come from? I didn’t see you there.”

He turns back around to grab two plates–ceramic ones, not the stack of styrofoam ones–from one of the cupboards to serve the eggs in, starting with fried.

Margo watches him silently. The tiny, squint-or-you-might-miss-it gold chain around his neck catches the light as he moves, and she remembers feeling the cold metal brush across her lips.

“The fried ones, are they–”

“Crispy at the edges?” he finishes, with a smile in his voice. “Yes ma’am!”

“You could really be a detective, can’t get nothing past you.”

“You’ve said that before.”

“See?”

The two burst into laughter, and the ink on Miles’ back does also. His poem was accurate, in a way. For the past five weeks, Margo has been no more than ten feet away from a spider.

They have a brief and quiet breakfast, wherein Margo finally asks to try the scrambled eggs and is delighted by the burst of flavor added by the Adobo. They aren’t too dry or too soggy the way they tend to be in restaurants - just fluffy, as promised. She thinks it might be time to finally start taking Miles at his word as she watches his back again while he’s washing dishes.

Once he is fully dressed and about to leave, Miles stops suddenly, as if he’s forgotten something. He reaches into the left pocket of his jacket and pulls out a neatly-folded sheet of paper, nervously running his other hand through the short dreads sitting atop his head.

“Before I leave, I, uh…I took your advice and wrote a lil’ something.”

He hands it to Margo, who takes it gingerly. 

“Well, good for you.”

“It’s been a while, so it’s kinda rough, but hopefully the sentiment is there.”

Miles plants a quick kiss on her cheek, and she smiles easily for once as opposed to the usual raised eyebrow.

“I’ll be sure to let you know if it is.”

Some time after he leaves, she finally sits down to read it while sipping on a cup of tea, because coffee wreaks havoc on her nerves. His handwriting is strange, overly graphic as if it’s the title card of a cartoon, but she reads it.

I know you don't like poetry 

but you said you liked mine,

and the way you sip your wine

has set my pen to paper,

so I hope 

you'll make another exception. 

You've already claimed

half of my sketchbook 

because I just can't get your eyes right.

I always make ‘em too soft,

or too round.

They don't pierce through me,

like they did when

you stared at me over your glass,

eyes narrowed.

When you search my face

and pick me apart,

I'd like to know what it is 

you're always searching for.

#miles morales fic #margo kess #flowerbyte #cybershock #cyberflower #atsv fic #atsv fanfiction #moralesanhour

[if-lost-please-return-to-maliksi]

kay maliksi ulit hehe || hmm modern au music rec is glue song

highschool sweet hearts sila tas nagkita ulit tas ikaw na bahala ate? (ate ka ba)

saranghe (napapagod ka na ba sakin)

((HAHAHA. Hala ka, ate ba ako? Hulaan nyo xD))

Disclaimer: I do not own Maliksi and Makisig. Full Credit goes to HC - @ask-emilz-de-philz. Please check out their blog for amazing art and the wonderful world of Planet Puto. All involved characters are adults. Self insert? Might be. Char.

Genre: FLUFF

NON- #PhilMytCrea related AU.

Maliksi softly hums a tune that's been playing on his earphones as he started watering the potted chrysanthemums in front of his shop. It's been 3 months since he inherited the family's flower shop business because his Kuya Makisig wanted to pursue his career as a pilot instead. He didn't mind as he's more than happy to work at his own pace and without someone to boss him around.

He wouldn't admit it to others, but despite him being snarky and sarcastic most of the time, he's actually a gentle guy who loved peace and quiet- the only thing the plants and flowers on his shop absolutely gives everyday.

Maliksi was almost done watering the flowers when he remembered that he had some gypsophila delivered earlier. He smiled as he unloaded the pots and placed it gently in a sunny spot near the windows.

Gypsophila-

How nostalgic.

He can still remember how he begged his Kuya Makisig to teach him how to make flower arrangements- they both practiced using the shop's prettiest flowers- except their parents made him pay out of his allowance but he's already spent half of it on the local arcade earlier that week. In the end, their parents refused to let him keep the bouquet they made.

Maliksi sulked so much that his Kuya Makisig ended up sneaking him a gypsophila bouquet to school the next day- their parents never found out since gypsophila is usually just used as fillers on floral arrangements and it's quite cheap, yet his Kuya Makisig just knew how to make it look like it's one of the more expensive types of bouquet.

He can still remember how happy you looked and how red your face was when he handed you flowers on the last Valentine's Day of your highschool journey. You were the top of your class and Maliksi always hated how he always came second. All your highschool years were you two trying to see who will one up one another be it academics or extracurricular activities.

You were his rival- until you're not.

During your third year, you both were chosen to play as the famous Romeo and Juliet. All the late after school practice, the pancit canton chilimansi fueled all-nighters, and the endless phone calls with one another to have the perfect play also ended up with you two getting closer- not that you'll have it any other way.

After graduating, your family had to move back to the province due to your father's work. Maliksi ended up losing contact with you after a few months and that's it. Such fleeting first love.

He can only softly chuckle to himself as he reminisced those good old days.

"Excuse me...What are those called?"

Maliksi's attention snapped back to reality and at the short highschool boy who is now standing inside the shop, pointing at the flowers he's currently holding.

"Uhh.. these? Gypsophila."

The boy nervously looked around the shop once again, twiddling his thumbs before speaking.

"M...my Ate has a bouquet of that kind and she's got it preserved for a very long time...but I destroyed it accidentally when I was playing with my soccer ball in her room."

That's so cute and sweet.

Maliksi smiled, "I can recreate the bouquet for you. Do you remember what other flowers is in there?"

The boy shook his head before pointing at the flowers in Maliksi's hand "Nothing else. Just that." The boy started fumbling along his pockets before finding three crumpled 100 peso bills and some change. "I saved this from my allowance. Do you think you can do it with this?"

It was clearly not enough but Maliksi didn't mind since he also used to be a highschool student who relied on weekly allowance for stuff he wanted to buy. "Of course, buddy. Let me get your sister's bouquet started."

Maliksi prepared some cotton paper and pastel pink cellophane and started to masterfully arrange the flowers- making a very pretty bouquet that anyone is bound to swoon over. It is a skill he's developed while growing up and occasionally helping hie parents at the shop during holidays. Once he's done, the boy stared at the bouquet in awe, eyes twinkling in admiration.

"It's so pretty! Prettier than the one I accidentally destroyed."

Maliksi smirked at the kid before softly chuckling. "What? I don't think I ever made an ugly bouquet my whole life."

"I...How much do I need to add if I'll have it delivered at my Ate's work? I have a soccer game in 10 minutes."

"You know what, I'll make it free delivery if you promise me you'll win your soccer game, deal?"

"Deal!"

"My ate works at the bank. She'll be out at 5:30pm. If you see some woman with curly hair, around your age and is wearing a cute dress- that's her. Thank you so much!"

The boy left right away for his soccer game, leaving Maliksi with the bouquet. He then started closing the flower shop before grabbing his black hoodie and wearing it above his plain white shirt paired with his grey sweatpants- he's not really up to dress up right now since it'll be too much work when he'll just be delivering a bouquet to some stranger.

Three minutes before 5:30 - Maliksi was already outside the said workplace, leaning on his motorcycle with the bouquet in one hand, waiting for the boy's sister.

You glance at the huge wall clock, waiting for it to struck 5:30 so you can get out of this place already. Your youngest brother has a soccer game going on right now, yet you've been ignoring him for a whole week now after he sneaked into your room and accidentally broke some stuff.

Maybe I should buy him something and him on his game? But he might get embarrassed since he's at that angsty teenager pace...

You walked out of your work, eyes on the ground as you deliberately think if you should sneak on your brother's game to watch him-

"Excuse me, I believe this is for you- Y/n?!"

You quickly looked up to where the voice came from and hurriedly ran towards him with an embrace. "Maliksi!" He made sure to catch you in his arms while you both giggle like two kids as he spins you around before setting you down.

"Ah, it's been so long! I missed you!" You softly giggled before gently ruffling his hair like you used to do to him back in highschool.

Maliksi smiled, not bothering to hide the slight blush that has been forming in his cheeks while still holding you. "I missed you too. I never thought I'll see you here again. You told me yor family will be staying at the province for good."

"We're supposed to. But my brother wants to attend an engineering program for college so, here we are. Our parents stayed at the province though."

"Wait...your brother-"

"Jake, That chubby little kid who used to crawl all over our highschool projects!"

Maliksi's eyes widen in realization that the shy and goofy kid he was talking to earlier was the kid that often bothered him and Y/n's study time back in highschool.

"He's grown! I've met him earlier. He wants me to give you this, because apparently, you were mad that he accidentally ruined the original one."

You can feel your cheeks heating up as if you were caught red-handed to be cherishing that one bouquet you received from Maliksi back in high school very dearly that you went out of your way to preserve it after all these years.

Maliksi burst out chuckling at your flustered face, finding it as adorable as ever. "You could've just tried to look for me when you got back. I would've made you a bouquet for each Valentine's Day we missed since high school."

((I'LL MAKE A PART TWOOO! I'M SO SORRY, I'VE BEEN SICK AND MY BRAIN IS SO SABAW FROM ALL THE ANTIHISTAMINES I'VE BEEN TAKING))

ALSOOO- I'll melt if someone tells those lines to me helppp. AND LOOK AT THAT FACE----- IMAGINE THAT RUNNING TO HUG YOUUUU AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Art is by: @ask-emilz-de-philz , please support them! <3

#planet puto #philmytcrea #planetputo #rp tamawo #maliksithetamawo #rp maliksi #writers on tumblr #ianewrites

[captainsophiestark]

Moment of Panic

Luke Castellan x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2022!

Fandom: Percy Jackson

Prompt: “That sounds like a you problem.”

Summary: Y/N, an Athena camper, has secretly had a crush on their best friend Luke Castellan for a long time. But when the two go head-to-head in capture the flag to defend their cabins' honors, Y/N's need for a distraction of any kind might ruin the whole "secret" part of their secret crush.

Word Count: 1,580

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I crept through the dark woods as stealthily as possible, straining to hear any little sound I could. I knew my partner Malcolm was somewhere off to my left, but I couldn't see or hear any sign of him.

I clutched my sword a little tighter and inched ahead. Tonight, my cabin (Athena) was squaring off against Hermes in capture the flag, and I had NO intention of losing. Luke, my best friend and long-time crush, and I had been exchanging trash talk every day since we'd realized we would be on different teams, and now it was time for me to back it up.

I'd figured out, from some hardcore sleuthing all week, where Hermes and their allies had decided to put their flag. My cabinmate, Malcolm, and I had decided we'd form our own small strike team to hit that location just across the boundary while everyone else served as a distraction. I was approaching from the right while he approached from the left, and hopefully, at least one of us would get an opening.

I tiptoed a few more steps forward, until at last I caught sight of the Hermes flag through the trees, right where I'd thought it would be. I wanted to rush forward and grab it, but I stopped myself. Athena was smarter than that, and I wasn't about to fall into some Hermes trap because I got careless.

I froze completely where I stood, trying to tune in to my surroundings and sense anything out of the ordinary. After a few tense moments, I felt a shift in the air next to me, and I leapt back and raised my sword just in the nick of time.

Luke appeared from behind the nearest tree, standing between me and the flag as he brought his sword down with incredible force. I half-deflected and half-dodged his blow, then quickly pulled my sword back up to defend against his next wave of attacks.

If I didn't spar almost every day with Luke as part of our normal routine, he would've knocked the sword out of my hands in seconds. He was an incredible swordsman, and it took every bit of focus I could muster just to hold my own. As the fight went on, however, I knew I wouldn't be able to hold out much longer.

Just as the thought crossed my mind, Luke grinned at me. Clearly he knew I was fighting a losing battle too, which meant I needed a new plan, and FAST.

I mustered as much of my strength as I could, then shoved back against Luke's next strike with every last possible bit of force. I stepped back a bit immediately afterwards, putting some space between us, and then I held up my hands in a gesture asking for a temporary truce. Luke raised an eyebrow, but he didn't push to attack me again just yet.

"What's the matter? Giving up already?" he asked with a crooked grin. He wasn't even a little bit out of breath, damn him.

"You wish," I scoffed, trying not to show just how out of breath I was, especially in comparison. "I just figured we could talk for a second. Maybe come up with a truce."

Luke grinned, and it made my heart skip a beat. "So... you're stalling."

"Maybe..." I said, only half paying attention as my mind raced to come up with an idea. I caught sight of Malcolm peeking out from behind the furthest trees I could see, and the urgency of coming up with a good distraction hit me all over again. "Or maybe... maybe I have something I want to tell you."

Luke raised his eyebrows again, clearly not buying a word I said. He took a few steps towards me and hefted his sword. I just needed something to say, anything, just something other than the complete blank my mind was currently drawing-

"Do you have feelings for me?"

Luke froze, an expression of panic rising to his face. My heart stopped in my chest. I couldn't believe I'd just said that. I'd been grasping for anything to serve as a distraction for Malcolm, but addressing this? What had I just done to myself?

Too late to go back now, as much as I might want to. And I had been trying to work up the courage to talk to Luke about my feelings, anyway. At this point, I might as well lean into it and do what I had to do to get a victory for Cabin 6.

"What?" Luke finally managed to choke out. I shrugged, forcing down my embarrassment and horror and focusing on how badly I wanted to win instead. Malcolm crept closer to the Hermes flag with every passing second, and it helped keep me from having a complete shutdown at the fact that Luke and I were actually having this conversation.

"Do you have feelings for me?" I asked again, standing my ground. I could do this. "Like, beyond friendship, I mean."

"I..." he cleared his throat and shifted on his feet, trying to regain some composure. "What makes you ask?"

I shrugged, feeling my face warm and hoping it was dark enough that Luke couldn't see my grimace. No matter how badly I wanted to win, talking to him about this was absolutely painful.

"Because... I like you," I said, managing to keep my voice mostly level by some miracle. "I actually have for a while now, and it just... it felt like something I should tell you, you know?"

Technically not even a lie. Although if I hadn't blurted it out in a moment of panic, I probably never would've actually gotten up the courage to address it.

Luke just stared at me for a minute, and I swear I could see the gears turning in his brain. Malcolm was almost to the flag, so one way or another, this torture would be over soon.

"Y/N... this is a terrible time to bring it up, and I'm a little suspicious of your timing, but... I feel the same way."

"Really?" I breathed, my heart coming to a dead stop in my chest. Suddenly, everything else about this moment (including Malcolm) disappeared and didn't matter anymore. My stomach started doing backflips as Luke nodded and closed the little remaining space between us.

"Really," he said. "I wanted to ask you out, but I didn't want to make you uncomfortable or mess with our friendship."

I swallowed, still not quite believing this was real.

"I waited so long to bring it up for the same reason..." I breathed. Luke gave me a small smile, then slowly reached out to take my non-sword hand with his.

"Well, at least we've figured it out now," he said. He ran his thumb over the back of my hand, then met my eyes with a confident smile. "So... what do you want to do? For a first date, I mean."

"I'd be up for anything," I replied, smiling right back at him as reality started to sink in. "Why? Did you have something in mind?"

"Well-"

"YES!"

Luke and I jumped apart and turned towards the source of the noise. We found Malcolm sprinting across the boundary line, Hermes flag in hand, and rushing into the excited embrace of everyone else on my team for capture the flag. I grinned, even as Luke turned back to me with an outraged expression.

"I didn't even see him!" he cried. "You cheated and distracted me so he could get away with that!"

I just shrugged and beamed back at him. "Sounds like a you problem."

Luke threw his hands up in the air and took a few steps away from me, shaking his head as he went. I just watched him with a smile, until a thought occurred to me.

"Does this..." I started, my smile faltering a bit. "I mean, do you still... want to go on a date? With me?"

Luke sighed a long, exasperated sigh, then met my eyes with a glare.

"Yes. Of course I do."

And just like that, my smile was back. Luke's frown only deepened, but I paid it no mind as I bounced over to him and took his hand.

"Good," I said, tugging him closer to me and placing a kiss on his cheek. His face reddened immediately, but the frown disappeared. He shook his head, then pulled me towards the rest of our friends who were still celebrating as the smallest hint of a smile rose to his face.

"Y/N, I've known you for long enough to know what you get like in competitions. I love that about you, even when you use it against me."

I laughed and leaned into him, and now his small smile had turned into a real grin.

"Maybe I secretly have Nike ancestry somewhere in my family tree," I mused. Luke chuckled.

"I wouldn't be surprised."

As soon as the rest of the camp caught sight of us, walking together and holding hands, they let up a big cheer and headed our way. I grimaced a little, knowing we were in for all kinds of teasing, but it would be worth it.

I'd defended my title in capture the flag and found out my feelings for Luke were mutual. What more could I ask for than that?

#fictober22 #percy jackson #percy jackson fanfiction #luke castellan #luke castellan fanfiction #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson oneshot #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan oneshot #camp half blood #malcolm pace #athena #athena!reader #capture the flag #hermes #hermes cabin #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #demigods

[nicolesainz]

Within The Limits (Ben Chilwell x Jenson Button x OC) Chapter 2

warnings: none so far, you are safe.

author's note: I just realised this story will be bigger than the one I wrote for Mason and Carlos. Don't know why but I have more confidence in my writing now than I had a year ago!

next chapter

"How long?"

"Eh, probably 3 weeks. Almost a month." I look at my knee and sometimes I wish I had one made out of iron.

"I'm so sorry mate. You were doing very well and this is unfortunate. The defence looks weak without you and Reece." Mason says as he takes a sip from his glass of wine.

Even though we may not be teammates anymore or England's regulars, our friendship has been stronger than ever. I sometimes travel to Manchester, or he drives to London. I do miss him as a teammate but if that was the best for his career, I wasn't going to be an intruder in his dreams.

"Says you. Mate, I miss seeing you on the pitch. I am sure though you will come back stronger. I miss playing with you." I say even though I feel like Mason regrets his move.

United are on a losing streak and have been officially knocked out of all European competitions. It's a shame because Mason has showed what he is capable of.

"I guarantee you, early March or before the call up for the Euros, we will be ready and fit and play again together. Nothing will change my mind" he says and I feel my confidence boosted. I can always count on Mason and so can he on me.

"I hope you're right. I so want to play for England again. I missed the World Cup so now it's my chance to revive myself" I empty my glass and lay my head back on the pillow.

"Hey, wanna watch a game? I think Spurs and City are on." Mase suggests but I am in no mood for football. I prefer playing not watching and especially when I am injured.

"What about some F1? Quali was on and I missed it. Plus, remember that we have been invited to the race tomorrow" We had passes for three days but training was ahead and better be safe than sorry.

“Oh yeah. I wanna be aware on who’s on pole and stuff. The grid walk is kinda stressful when they ask you questions about stuff you barely know.” I click on Sky Sports and tune into F1.

We’ve missed the session but the post Quali analysis is on so we will see the list of drivers underneath. And oh, Lando is on pole! Jolly. He’s more close with Mason but a Brit being first amongst 20 isn’t bad, especially at the British Grand Prix.

“Oi Lando! Happy for him. Gonna wish him good luck tomorrow.” Mason exclaims but my eyes remain locked with the woman’s figure on the tv.

She seems fairly young, probably around my age. And a bit familiar too. Her brown locks cover her shoulders perfectly and her expression radiates intelligence but also sweetness. Currently interviewing Lando and his former teammate, Carlos, with such maturity and afterwards congratulating the both of them.

She then faces the other two interviewers that are with her, but mostly the man next to her. She looks so happy to be there, talking about something that she probably loves, given that she works for F1.

“Earth to chilly. Hello?” Mason clicks his fingers in front of my face and I immediately realized that I was lost at admiring her beauty through a screen.

“Sorry. Got distracted” I shake my head and look underneath at the stats.

“You were looking at Chelsea” Mason says with a massive smirk on his face.

“I’m sorry, who?”

“Chelsea. The interviewer. She works for both F1 and the Premier League.” Wait, how wasn’t I aware of that?

Probably because you don’t play now idiot. And you’re more on the training ground.

“Is she new in the Prem? My eye never caught her and given how she looks, I would have noticed.” I don’t know why I said that last thing. And I don’t even know her.

“Not really. She was recruited a bit before the World Cup started. She mostly commentates on United and City’s games given that she does live in Manchester.” Mason explains and I’m still trying to spot her inside my mind. How come I’ve never seen her before but Mase has?

“And her name is Chelsea you said? What, is she a fan or something?” I ask and my glance falls back on her. Oh she looks like a true grace.

“I have no idea. Ask her tomorrow.” He blurts out so casually.

“As if I know her. She’ll think I’m a creep.” I say trying to hide my blush.

“Fine coward. We will go together. Or I’ll go by myself if you don’t want to. Good thing she lives close to me.” Mason winks evilly and I punch his shoulder lightly.

She seems so full of knowledge that I wonder why she's not commentating more premier league games.

Probably because she's travelling the world with F1.

"All jokes aside, she is a really nice girl. Always polite, smiling and never judging. I am sure you will like her once you meet her." Mason says as he types on his phone.

"I will take your word for it."

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

"Hey Chels, can I ask a favor?" Lando approaches me in a rush, followed by Carlos who is not paying attention because he is busy talking on the phone.

"Uh, sure. Tell me." Usually Lando isn't the one asking favors. It's mostly George who wants to show off to the guests or Alex who can't keep track with the sessions.

"Two lads from the England squad will be in the paddock tomorrow and one of them hasn't been to a Grand Prix before so could you show them around the paddock?" Suddenly alarms are echoing in my head as I imagine who those may be.

"No problem. May I ask, who are the two guys?"

"Mason and Ben. I'm assuming you know them and especially Mase given you work at Manchester."

Ben? As in Chilwell? Oh the shock my dad with get when I tell him that. Also, I haven't met in him person. Never had the chance to commentate on a Chelsea game. And I briefly remember him at his Leicester days.

"Yeah yeah. I will show them around. You got it."

"Thank you so much. I owe you." He hugs me tightly and a confused Carlos looks at the both of us.

"I'm not gonna steal your boyfriend Sainz. No need to death stare me." I say mocking him.

"You know, one day, some reporter will hear you and then people will start asking us about the wedding date." Carlos says rolling his eyes annoyingly.

"I will see you guys tomorrow. Take care" and I wave both of them goodbye, as I feel my heart skipping a beat when a pair of strong arms are wrapped around my waist.

Jenson is leaving small kisses up my neck as I try to remove myself from his grasp. He knows I have a weakness and he uses it against me.

"Ready to go, love?"

"Mhm" I nod and take his hand into mine.

"What were you and Lando talking about? Does he need tips on how to block Max from stealing the first place at turn 1?"

"He will be fine on that part. No, uh, he wants me to give a tour of the paddock to some of his friends that will be in the Mclaren garage and given that I know one of them very well, he thought I was fit for it."

"What friends? The ones that are with him on that e-sports team he has?" It's funny seeing Jenson so confused and not knowing what Quadrant is and being kinda uptight about me missing from his side.

"No babe. Some football players. Mason Mount and Ben Chilwell. I know Mason very well but it's Ben's first time watching a race from up close so he wants me to guide them. Won't take more than an hour."

"Don't remind me that those football boys will have eyes on my girl while I won't be able to do anything." Jenson's hand grabs my waist firmly and I can sense he is worried about my time in England.

We are not an official pair and yet he is safeguarding me like we have been dating for ages. I guess two years is quite some time to be dating or "seeing" someone, so I understand the possessiveness. Although it does seem weird that he has been acting up since last night.

He is being all touchy and loving with kisses and mind-blowing sex, aftercare and treating me as if I am more fragile than a glass. I can understand that he is worried but if he wants us to become an official couple he can say it. I don't know what's holding him back.

"You could do something about it, if you don't want those ballers gawking around me like eagles." I drop slight hints even though I know deep down that is not what he wants.

But what they say is true,

if you want something very badly, go for it, right?

#ben chilwell x reader #jenson button x reader #ben chilwell #jenson button #fanfic writing #fanfic

[yolowritter]

A Case of Ladybug Luck Chapter 4

Hello there everyone, and welcome back to Hell! Holy Nooroo it's been so long since I posted abt this AU. Mostly because I'm busy actually writing it and 300k words are apparently nowhere near enough to finish what I started a year ago! Anyway, I'm just going to do a speedrun of posting these early chapters because I want to get to the good stuff already! Believe me, it's worth! So, from now on I won't have a note at the beggining of this, just the snippet and chapter link, kay? Cool! Asks are open btw if anyone wants to chat about ACOLL! Enjoy my suffering!

Nathalie was curled up on the couch, definitely asleep. She looked pale, the same way Marinette would pale when she was worried about him. Like she’d literally been worried sick. His father was sitting in an armchair beside her, reading a book. Gabriel didn’t notice his approach. One of them had wheeled out a TV from the guest rooms down the hall, and it was tuned in on…the news? TVI, it looked like, and they were on an add break. Adrien took a deep breath to steady himself, to throw the image of his seething father almost breaking the dinner table with his fist, right out of his mind.

Gabriel glanced at the screen, stared at the advertisement, something about a new hair product, and went back to his book. It had a full black cover, Adrien noted as he approached. Gabriel heard his footsteps, used a bookmark to not lose the page he was on, and shut the book, placing it next to him on the chair. For a moment, Adrien saw the title. “The Illusion of Living.” Wow. Macabre, much?

“G-good morning father.”, Adrien tried as a greeting. This…was weird. He wasn’t used to seeing his father relax…or at all, to be honest. He looked uninterested, indifferent. Gabriel glanced at the TV, saw the news hadn’t come on yet, and turned to face his son.

“Ah, Adrien. Did you sleep well?”, he asked, seeming genuinely curious. Oddly, Adrien noticed his father wasn’t wearing his tie clip. The empty white spot where it should be drew his eye, but Adrien reigned himself in and nodded an affirmative.

“Yes. But…father, I don’t mean to disrespect you but…don’t I have a photoshoot today? Two hours ago?”, he asked, hesitant.

Gabriel’s expression shifted from his calm. Like a porcelain mask, the façade cracked, and for a single second Adrien thought he saw guilt and sadness in his father’s eyes. He looked so…forlorn. Defeated, even. Guilty.

He nodded, seeing that his father wasn’t going to say anything else. Adrien glanced at Nathalie, concerned. His father’s assistant, always a stern but constant presence…looked so frail. She looked like mom- like she desperately needed the rest. Gabriel sighed when he caught him staring.

“Nathalie is fine, son. She’s just tired. We had an…interesting morning.” A morning that nearly cost Gabriel his sanity, and some pocket change to top things off. Some 50.000 thousand euros to ensure the silence of the hospital staff and discharge him as soon as he was stable. He was fine, really. The problem wasn’t physical. Dizziness overcame him, suddenly. Emilie had said the same thing, once.

Adrien nodded again, not knowing what else to do. “I…Am I free for the day, then?”, he asked his father.

Gabriel didn’t even pretend to consider it. “Yes, free for the week. I’ve cancelled all your lessons and photoshoots. You’re…welcome to stay home, if you’d like. I’ve delegated my own duties for today, so if you require anything…please come talk to me.”, he said, sounding like the words struggled to leave his mouth.

“Adrien, remember. You are my son. I am your father. It’s my responsibility to make sure you are well. I will be there when you need me.”, Gabriel tried, testing the words. They sounded…right, this time. An odd sense of numbness washed over him again, and he turned back to the television. “You should go to your room, sleep some more. It’s been a long week for you, I’m sure.”, he added as an afterthought, his tone monotonous and dry. Almost robotic.

“…Right. I- I’ll go and lay down, then. Good morning, father.”

Gabriel blinked, as if the time was news to him. Right, the night was over. It was a new day, now. He didn’t feel like it. He barely felt like anything at all. “Of course, son. Now go.”, he insisted, eyes glued to the final, fading advertisement, before the screen switched to Nadja Chamack. Adrien obeyed and began to ascend the stairs again, and Gabriel unmuted the broadcast.

“Welcome back, Paris. As I said before, there have been no further news on the case. Poor weather conditions lasted all throughout the night, and police have had no luck finding any trace of…”

Adrien stopped in his tracks, midway up the staircase. He breathed deeply. “Father…did something happen?”, he asked hesitantly. Something had to have happened. This…couldn’t all be because of Lila, could it?

Gabriel’s eyes seemed to glance back at him, even though his head didn’t move an inch.

“We’re standing by for news on any new developments, and are hoping for the best. Please wait for more information.”

“Not to me. I’m fine.”, he said coldly, the air of indifference returning to his tone.

Adrien hoped it wouldn’t be followed by another outburst. He hung his head, and obeyed his father’s order, going back to his room. Maybe he could mess around with his piano? Last they’d met, Luka had given him some inspiration for a song. Hadn’t he said something about…masks? Adrien would have to text him, see if he remembered.

Plagg was there when Adrien opened the door, hovering over his unlocked phone. He looked…sad. Making a face of realization the same way Adrien would do when he could guess that more photoshoots would be added to his schedule. Like an inevitability had just come true. The kwami spun to face him when he came in, but Plagg’s face betrayed nothing of what Adrien had just seen.

“Hey kit! Morning! Wow, good thing your pops let us sleep in today huh? Say, I’m full of energy! How about we go for a run, huh? Get your muscles going?”, Plagg said, looking frantic and desperately pretending to be happy and excited. Adrien knew a thing or two about playing pretend.

Plagg never lied to him. Not unless something was very wrong, not after the Sandman incident. He’d promised. Plagg hadn’t lied to him since. Adrien let the worry he felt for Plagg show on his face. Words weren’t needed between them sometimes, and he didn’t think he should say what he could show. Plagg tried to keep his smile up. Adrien saw him strain himself, the widening of his eyes to look restless, the same expression he’d make when he got bored of flying around his room.

Adrien stared at him. Plagg stared back, a pleading look to please pretend he was oblivious, go along with it. After a moment, the Kwami faltered, and his mask broke.

“K-kid.”, he tried to speak, voice cracking as if his throat had been hit by a Cataclysm. “Do me a favor.”, Plagg begged him. Adrien had already opened his mouth to agree when his phone rang. “Don’t answer that. Please.”, Plagg insisted.

Adrien checked the caller ID. It was Nino. He shot Plagg a look. The cell rang again. Adrien ignored it to swipe down on the screen and check his notifications. 37 missed calls from Nino. 2096 unread messages. Half of those from Alya. What the fuck? The ringing seemed to get louder. Plagg’s whiskers dropped, his face fell.

Adrien reached out a hand to pet him, to offer comfort for whatever was wrong, but Plagg retracted. “Kit…I’m so sorry.”, he offered meekly, and flew up to his spot, curling up in a ball. Adrien thought he heard him sobbing. He picked up the phone, worried and confused. Why was his father acting like that? Why was Plagg acting like that?

Nino’s voice sounded horrible. Like he’d been crying. “A-Adrien?”, he asked, stuttering in near disbelief. “Thank fuck, are you okay? No, sorry, stupid question. How are you…holding up, dude?”

Okay, now Adrien knew something was very, very wrong. He tried to mask his fears with confusion. “Nino? What happened? I just woke up, are you okay?”, Adrien asked with genuine concern, trying not to panic. He’d kept himself together while fighting supervillains, he could get through one conversation without letting his worries eat him up.

Nino sobbed on the other end. Went silent. Adrien heard Alya’s voice, just barely, as if they’d moved the phone away from them.

“Nino…do we tell him?”, she asked, sounding frightened.

Nino failed to hold back a sob. “Babe…we have to.”

Nino moved the phone closer. “Uh…dude. You might want to check the news…”, he said awkwardly. Adrien was downright panicked now. He didn’t respond to Nino, he rushed back downstairs to his father, to the broadcast. What was happening? Why were his friends walking on eggshells around him? Had he done something? Did Lila do something?

“Please hold on, we’ve just received a statement from Officer Raincomprix. Stand by for-”

Gabriel had the book in his lap, reading calmly. Miss Chamack’s voice didn’t seem to bother him. She paused mid-sentence, and moved off screen.   

She came back into frame, looking like she was about to cry. Her professionalism was in shambles, Adrien saw the way her face twitched with silent tears, holding back the urge to sob.

“I- I regret to inform everyone that we’ve received official word from the Parisian Police Department. Marinette Dupain Cheng has been confirmed dead. It was ruled a suicide.”

#miraculous ladybug #ao3 fanfic #a case of ladybug luck #marinette dupain cheng #it's peak angst #a *lot* of angst #adrien agreste #gabriel agreste #marinette f*cking died #for real this time #i swear #once again i cringe at my old chapters #i've gotten so much better #i swear on Nooroo himself #mental unhealth #when is it not #adrien agreste needs a hug #he gets it from the local terrorist #hope you enjoy

[fandomscraziness22]

basil + locklyle where one is trying to leave the other to save them

:) xx

ooooh thank you so much!!! i will probs try to make a longer version for locklyle week next week, so stay tuned for that!!

basil (good wishes) — “i just want the best for you.”

SPOILERS FOR THE HOLLOW BOY!!! (but also show canon because i love the show)

~~~

“Lockwood, I’ve decided. I’m leaving.”

How many times can Lucy repeat herself before Lockwood finally hears her? They’ve been walking around this park for the better part of an hour, and he just won’t get it.

“Luce, come on,” Lockwood says, hand clenching the top of his rapier. “We both know this isn’t a good idea.”

Lucy shakes her head. “It is. This isn’t something I’m just doing on a whim; I’ve thought hard about it, and it’s the best way to keep everyone safe.”

Lockwood speeds up almost without noticing it, and Lucy has to jog to keep up with his stupid long legs. She knows he’s upset, of course, but he keeps talking as if he thinks he can change her mind, when she knows he won’t.

“But we keep you safe, Luce, just like you keep us safe. That’s how our agency works, how it’s always worked. Your Talent has saved my ass many a time, and you know I’ve saved your skin too. That’s why Lockwood and Co. is on its way to being one of the best agencies out there!” He keeps looking over at her, as if something in her face will give him even the slightest bit of hope.

And he’s breaking her heart. Lucy doesn’t truly want to leave the agency. She has found a family with George and Lockwood, and even Holly, after they cleared the air in Aickmere’s. But it’s precisely because of that that she can’t stay. 

From the corner of her eye, Lucy sees Lockwood raise a hand to his hair, a nervous tick that doesn’t appear very often. He’s always the picture of put-together, and it should make her happy that she gets to see him when he’s most vulnerable and open; that he’s letting her in, that Lucy is the one chosen to see Lockwood for the boy he truly is, instead of the posh man he pretends he is to everyone around them.

He looks like the ghost she saw splitting in two, blank eyes and blank face and blank insides. Lockwood is bearing himself to her, but it only serves to further her resolve. She can never let the Fetch’s prediction come true. Lockwood can’t be the hollow boy she saw in that dark, wet, horrific place. 

So she has to go.

“Lockwood and Co. will survive without me. You did before you ever met me, and you can again.”

Lockwood grabs her arm and yanks her around to face him. He’s angry, yes, but there’s a desperation she hasn’t seen in months. It reminds her of the little she had heard when they had been captured by Winkman, Lockwood begging for them to kill him if only they would spare her. It cracks her heart even more.

“Lucy, I don’t want to survive without you. George doesn't want that, and neither does Holly. Why are you so adamant about leaving the agency? Leaving us?”

Leaving me goes unspoken, but she hears it all the same.

She forces herself not to cry, because if she cries now, her resolve will truly break, and Lockwood would win in the short term, but she would lose him in the end.

“I just want the best for you, Lockwood. And what’s best is that I figure out how to better control my Talent without putting you in harms’ way. That’s all there is to it.”

Lucy wrenches her arm out of Lockwood’s grasp and walks on, her heart shattering into tiny pieces with every footfall.

send me flower prompts!

#lockwood and co #l&co #locklyle #lucy carlyle #anthony lockwood #my version of the walk! #the beginning of one anyways lol #angst

[my-mt-heart]

Hey MT! Marketing anon again. Sending you a hug through the ask box!! We still need an official confirmation, but May 11th was GOOD for Carylers. I may have cried a little when I heard she was trending on Twitter all day. I’m glad the strategy I mentioned wasn’t too off the mark (phew). It helps make the next few weeks more predictable from a marketing perspective. 

I figured I’d share a few more thoughts so we know what to expect and we're prepared. But still, quick disclaimer: this is just my perspective and speculation. Take it or leave it <3 

AMC is leaning into desires which is good. We should expect a slow trickle of Melissa-related news. Perhaps something more definitive around her birthday (I wouldn’t be surprised if Norman wishes her on IG, I’m sure he’s wanted to say something since she showed up in France lol). Let me take a moment to say I thought we’d get a glimpse of the stand-in or grey hair (can’t remember if I added that in the previous ask), and that's precisely what happened, and I was genuinely excited when I saw that haha. 

The thing to keep in mind now is any good company keeps an eye on/ tracks audience responses to lean into what's getting the most reactions and maximize the impact. Which means audience reactions should guide the flow of news/content we see in the coming week (for the most part). So being vocal about what we want to see may help show AMC what we’re tuning in (aka paying) for.

Mixed reactions is the worst sign. It means the marketing is not hitting the mark, and that's when companies start to shift strategies to get the most reactions or try to increase the audience pool (aka, it more or less explains S11). That doesn't mean you have to feign excitement about things you don't like. But it helps to refocus attention on being vocal about what you're excited to see.

I read an article about AMC losing a ton of subs lately, which may mean they’re more likely to take a route that keeps the audience with them for the long haul. And Caryl going canon would be a good strategy to bring back a huge chunk of the audience they lost in the last quarter. And keep them on for a couple of years at least (if they play their cards right).

So the best thing right now is talking about what we really want to see. Show them how much we love Caryl as a unit. How much we want to see them together. TOGETHER together.

To everyone reading: Your feelings are valid. This doesn't erase what happened last year or how we lost the original Caryl spinoff. However, it also doesn't invalidate that we're getting Caryl back. If we focus on making the most of what's ahead of us, we may see Caryl get the ending they've earned. I, for one, would at least like to try. Caryl on <3

Hey there :) Thank you so much for the pointers again. Fwiw, I think you did mention the possibility of a vague photo, so credibility earned haha

I agree that it’s probably in our best interest to keep showing enthusiasm for Melissa, Carol, and Caryl. I also want to add that I think it’s a good way to continue supporting Melissa as opposed to arguing in circles with each other and making assumptions about her professional or private life that aren’t true.

We don’t have to excuse what happened last year, and we can remind AMC of that by simply not promoting, not watching, and not subscribing for S1. That’s my plan personally. Everyone else can decide what feels right to them.

I can’t write an essay on what I want to see as much as you’re tempting me, anon, but I hope to read what other people are looking forward to and I hope S2 will fulfill Caryl fans’ wildest dreams and Melissa’s as well. She deserves to get what she wants for Carol’s story.

#caryl #caryl positivity #caryl spinoff #carol peletier #melissa mcbride #darylneedscarol

[sabo-has-my-heart]

Hi! Can I request a scenario number 6 and dialogue fluff number 10 with Sabo?

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1260

     Sitting next to Sabo on the piano bench, you watched him play the short tune, occasionally missing a key or pressing the wrong one. Pulling his hands away he smiled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck.

     “See, told you I’m terrible at the piano. I’m not completely hopeless though, am I?” he asked.

     “No, not hopeless, it shouldn’t even be too difficult. You can read the music and you seem to have at least an idea of the basics.” you said, smiling at him, “We shouldn’t even need to meet up all that often. How about once a week in the music room?” you offered, tilting your head in confusion when he shook his head.

     “I’d really like to become as good as possible as quickly as possible. Do you think we could meet up every other day? I know it’s a lot, but it’s important to me.” he said eagerly, surprising you. Few people seemed this eager to learn the piano.

     “Are you sure? You’ve gotta have better things to do than learn piano.” you asked, bewildered by the young man in front of you. It wasn’t that you weren’t happy to spend time teaching him, but you’d never met someone who wanted to learn so badly.

     “I have a reason, I just… how about I tell you my reasoning if everything turns out well?” he offered, starting to fidget.

     “Alright, but you’d better tell me. As your piano instructor, I’m holding you to it. We should still take weekends off though. You should take time to relax and let your brain absorb what you learned.” you insisted, the blond nodding in agreement.

     “Then I’ll see you Friday. Thanks again, Y/n.” he said, smiling at you for a moment before gathering his stuff and leaving. Sighing, you looked down at the piano, gently pressing a few keys before starting to play, losing yourself in the music. Honestly, you wouldn’t deny that you were thrilled to be spending time with the young man. He was smart, interesting, funny, he made you smile, he was nice, he cared. You just hoped that it wouldn’t affect your ability to teach him. 

     Sabo sat at the piano bench, fingering the keys. He’d been taking lessons from you for a few weeks now. A few, amazing, wondrous weeks sitting next to you on the bench as you ‘taught’ him. In truth, he was actually quite skilled at the piano, his parents having insisted that he learn to play, but if you knew that then he wouldn’t have an excuse to see you on a regular basis. You were smart and he couldn’t exactly play an idiot to ask for tutoring, you didn’t take part in his rallies though you always stopped to listen when you could. You weren’t particularly good friends with any of his friends. When he’d heard you playing though, he’d figured this was his one shot. Could he just come out and tell you he knew how to play? Sure, he might even be able to convince you to play with him from time to time. But it was no guarantee, there wasn’t the possibility of spending time with you like he was now. At least this way, he was spending time with you, if for no other reason than because you thought you were teaching him. Gently, he pressed a few more keys, a soft tune starting to fill the room. You wouldn’t be coming today, it was one of the off days. He hadn’t been able to help himself though, he’d come here to think about you, to think about the time spent with you. A few more notes filled the air, his hands slowly starting to dance across the keys until he was playing a full song. His mind began to wander as he played, daydreaming of playing for you. In his mind, you sat next to the grand piano, leaning on the dark wood, admiring him as he played, impressed by his skill and enraptured by the music. He imagined you laying on the top of the piano, staring at him upside down as you smiled, lost in his eyes as he paused in his playing to caress your cheek. The two of you, sitting side by side, playing together, laughing when he stopped playing to nuzzling into your neck, making you giggle.

     You stopped just outside the music room, your brow furrowing. You’d been planning on doing a little playing to calm your mind when you’d caught the light sounds of music. Almost no one was ever in the music room at this time, it’s why you preferred to play when you did. Cracking the door open, you peeked inside to see Sabo sitting in front of the piano, hands flying across the keys, playing an intricate, difficult song. His eyes were closed as he played, the song coming purely from memory as he played, caught up in the music as you quietly entered the room, unnoticed by the blond. Had he been lying to you this entire time? He had to have been, he wasn’t this good during any of your lessons! Finally, his fingers hit the last few keys, sighing as he finished the song. You sat down next to him on the bench, his soul damn near leaving his body as you sat down, surprising the hell out of him. 

     “You’ve… gotten really good since yesterday. It’s been some time since I heard Moonlight Sonata played so well, and by a ‘beginner’ no less.” you said softly, though making it clear that you had realized that he wasn’t a beginner.

     “I, uh… sorry. For lying to you.” Sabo said guiltily, staring down at the piano keys once more.

     “Will you at least tell me why you lied to me?” you asked, curious as to his reasons.

     “It’s… I just… I wanted to spend time with you.” he admitted, “At first… at first you’d just caught my attention, you’re beautiful, stunning really. You weren’t mean or a bad person. You really… really caught my eye. I wanted to take you on a date or two, but I heard about how you rejected so many people. Figured this was my best shot. You’re… so much more than I had hoped for. You’re sweet and kind, gorgeous, smart, caring, you’re… astounding and I… I think I’m falling for you.” Sabo said, looking back up at you, surprise written all over your face. He liked you? He’d fallen for you?! Biting your lip, you placed your fingers on the piano keys. Taking a deep breath, you started playing a love song. You couldn’t find the words to tell him how much you’d grown to care about him, couldn’t figure out what to say. But music didn’t have to have words, music didn’t need to say anything to show him how you felt. As soon as you’d finished, Sabo’s hand was on your cheek, making you face him. Your eyes fluttered shut as his lips met yours, taking your breath away. Once more, words failed as the two of you pulled each other in again and again. Finally you pulled away, breathing hard as you stared into his eyes. No words were needed between you two, you knew just from the looks in your eyes that you were both head over heels for each other, that you wanted to be together, that he wouldn’t need you to ‘teach’ him any longer just to see you. Because you had fallen for him like he’d fallen for you.

#one piece #one piece sabo #op sabo #sabo the revolutionary #chief of staff sabo #flame emperor sabo #sabo the revolutionary x reader #sabo x reader #chief of staff sabo x reader #flame emperor sabo x reader

[lilredghost]

babyyy!!! i was listening to songs and these two struck out as perfect for the emperor obi-wan fic <333 Saudebaazi (from aakrosh) the lyrics and the tune has me going mad- seedhe saadhe saara saudha seedha seedha hona ji (the the trade/business/deal is simple/straightforward) maine tumko paana hai ya tumne meko khona ji (either i get/acquire/gain you or you have to lose me) literally true for this disaster duo cause they began with a contract!!!! Mere sang (idk the film but katrina's in it???) this is such anakin thinking about obi wan in the later parts of the fic!! mere sang toh chal zaraa (walk with me) kyun dikhe dara dara (why do you look so afraid) chal tujhko aa chupa du apni main baahon mein (come, let me hide you in my arms) chal khwaab kuchh sajaa du teri in nigaahon mein (come, let me decorate your eyes with dreams)

i couldnt stop myself and went and binge read the whole of the fic again im now sick with pining these two are such idiots

BABY!!! Took me almost a week to get the time to sit down and listen to these songs (I kept putting them on and then getting distracted... next time I'm playing them in the shower 😂) but you are SO right omg 🙌

Saudebaazi has that classic, like, time-period-appropriate feel to it. It just matches SO well. And the lyrics 🥺 Sauda umeedon ka hai, khwaabon ka, neendon ka hai -> This deal is made of hopes, is made of dreams, is made of sleep.

Like ohhh they both had so many hopes about how things would turn out when they started and they're only just beginning to get to where they wanted to be.

The second song I'd never heard before but I like it! (Turns out it's from the movie New York, jsyk) The "why do you look so afraid" literally SLAYED me. Anakin wanting to take care of Obi-Wan always always gets me 😭

Now obviously I have to bring my own contributions to the table… Jaane Kyun Log Pyaar from Dil Chahta Hai absolutely breaks my heart but it's very much the both of them at the crux of the "enemies" part of their arcs. Even just the way it opens… Jaane kyun log pyaar karte hai. Jaane kyun voh kise pe marte hai. -> Why do people love? Why does a person die for someone / pine for someone?

Bc Anakin just straight up does not get it (ie: he's never had big dreams of love, and the concept is only causing him pain) and Obi-Wan is… obviously… having a bad time in those chapters…

Pyaar mein sar jhukaana parta hai -> In love, you have to lower your head Dard mein muskuraana parta hai -> Even in pain, you have to smile Zehr kyun zindagi mein bharte hai -> Why do people fill their lives with this poison?

My mind also went straight to Galliyan from Ek Villain (but the unplugged ver though cause there's just something so tragic about it). I truncated some parts just so this isn't insanely long but:

Yahi doobe din mere -> This is where my days end Yahi hote hai savere -> This is where my mornings happen Yahi marna aur jeena -> This is where I die and where I live Yahi mandir aur Medina -> This is my temple and Medina Teri galliyan… -> Your alleyways… Mujh ko bhaave, galliyan teri galliyan -> They soothe me, your alleyways …Yun he tarpaave, galliyan teri galliyan -> …They agonize me, your alleyways

Idk WHAT it is about people using religion to describe love (a la Tujh Mein Rab Dikta Hai, Jab Se Tere Naina, etc) but it drives me INSANE, I can't get enough

I'm sure if I thought a little harder, some less depressing songs would come to mind but like. I have one brain cell and it likes seeing obikin suffer 😅

#also to me sun zara from lucky is like the ultimate pining song so it feels very them... #out here about 3 seconds from making a playlist #but idk if I'd want songs in english songs in hindi or a mix lol #emperor obi-wan au #asks #imjusttoofunky

[wheycheese]

The only reason this song exists is bc my girlfriend said I should write a song where my deadbeat bf leaves me for Jolene (of Dolly Parton lore) but I steal Jolene back from him instead and she falls in love with me, and who am I to deny her? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

you came home tuesday night dressed in your best attire to tell me you were leaving me for another i didn't ask, i knew you never could play poker cool it was something that i loved about you

you said it wasn't you couldn't help how the feelings grew you'd understand if you met her someday

ok so i went down to the bar to ask after my scar and i learned her name was jolene she had hair like fresh autumn leaves and eyes of emerald green i knew i couldn't ever love another

i drove home in a daze i couldn't keep my mind away from the smile that she pressed to my cheek

the next week i took her out dancing she made me laugh at everything there was a cheeky sparkle in her eye she danced me into the back room and i could hardly hear the tunes when she kissed me soft against the door

jolene, jolene, jolene, jolene i'm begging of you please take my hand jolene, jolene, jolene, jolene i can show you things he never can jolene

you could have your choice of men but i could never love again you're the only one for me jolene

i have to ask, you must have a clue my happiness belongs to you so will you leave with me forever jolene

jolene, jolene, jolene, jolene i'm asking of you please take my hand jolene, jolene, jolene, jolene i could give you more than any man

and so she said o'course i will you fool i never knew i could feel this too i left him the minute you came in the room

so we walked down on tuesday night dressed in our best attire i knew i'd never love another i didn't ask, i knew it must really suck to be you guess sometimes in love you win and you lose

#jolene #oh jolene #this was such a silly one but i'm genuinely pleased by how it turned out lol #anyway enjoy my very hybrid attempt at country #dolly parton #i sure took many creative liberties #country music #ish #if you squint #wheycheese #my music

[sarcasticslothy]

in you i found my home from home

 Day 7 of Tarlos Week 2022: Free choice The fic in which TK has a bad call and Carlos is right there when he needs him. Read on AO3

And the week is done! To everyone that has liked/reblogged my fics throughout the entire week it has been so lovely getting into writing and seeing people enjoy what you write. Thankyou, thankyou!

The silence in the ambulance on the way back to the station makes TK uncomfortable, yet he knows there is nothing to say to make it better. The last call had been the kind of call he hopes to never deal with ever again, the kind of call he knows are the ones that stick with first responders for years afterwards. The upturned bus, filled with family coming from a wedding, flashes in his mind and he shakes his head to remove it, knowing he can’t even begin to process it yet.

He’ll never get used to the feeling. Knowing that no matter how well trained they are that people can die right in front of them, here in one moment, gone the next. He knows he won’t sleep, that he’ll spend the evening thinking of their families, thinking of the moment where they’ll be told what happened. That despite best efforts, their loved ones were gone. He clenches his fist against the sudden onslaught of emotion, his tongue pushing the top of his mouth in desperation to keep the tears at bay. He looks across at Nancy and sees her hands gripping the steering wheel and diverts his eyes away. The fire station comes into view, and he can see the fire crew hanging around near the truck. When they eventually pull in upon exiting the rig, they are enveloped into a group huddle, every one offering each other quiet, steady support. Without talking, they all seem to decide to move upstairs together and with a hushed conversation, they all sit together, a silent offering of support. They’re all in the same spot when his dad and Tommy come into the room. “I’m calling the shift, the next shift is coming in early and we’ll see about tomorrow…” his dad begins, a talk they are all unfortunately familiar with. “How many?” he hears Nancy ask from across the room. He sees Tommy and his dad look at each other and TK knows the news isn’t good. “7” Tommy eventually says, voice quiet and TK feels his breath catch at the knowledge. “The kid?” TK asks, and Tommy looks over at him and he doesn’t need her to say anything to know that their patient was one of the 7. He clenches his hands into his lap and tries to keep the image of the little boy out of his head. He’d been awake and talking when they’d arrived but had gone downhill so fast that they were struggling to keep him alive the entire ride to the hospital. “If anybody doesn’t feel okay, you come and tell us. Or you talk to someone else here. We are always going to be available” TK’s mind wanders as he looks around at the group of people that he would call his family without blinking and he can’t imagine the idea of losing one of them, let alone 7. How would you ever come back from that? He realises he’s tuned out and missed anything else that is said when a few people stand and start to make their way to the locker room. He catches the eye of his dad and when he motions for him to follow him, he rises from the couch and they silently make their way to his office. “Do you need me to take you to a meeting?” is the first thing his dad asks and he feels the familiar twinge of guilt mixed with anger that always seems to rise whenever he’s asked the question. He knows it’s a question that has to be asked, and his dad means nothing by it but it burns like he isn’t trusted. “Not right now” TK replies, knowing that he’ll need to go eventually when the events of the day aren’t so raw but also aware that he has other ways to deal with grief and pain now. Other people that he can surround himself with that will have his back and keep him from making a mistake he’ll regret. “Are you sure?” his dad asks “That was... that was a lot” “Dad. I just want to go home” he says and his dad studies him for a moment before nodding once, seemingly convinced in his replies. “Are you going to be okay?” TK asks “Yeah, kid. Don’t worry about me” “Dad” Tk starts and waits for Owen to look up at him “did you want to come over? Carlos won’t mind” “No, TK. I’m good. Really. I should go make sure Mateo is all right. Did you need a lift home?” TK debates arguing with him, wonders if should invite Mateo over, but can’t help wanting to be a bit selfish and go home to his boyfriend and revel in the knowledge that he could let his emotions blow over and he’d still be okay. He is about to answer his dad’s question when his phone sounds in his pocket and he slides it out to read the message. Carlos 10.45pm ‘I heard about the call. I’m coming to get you after your shift. Text me when you’re done. X’ He types a quick reply back, letting him know that he was finished and he’d be waiting outside and then looks back up to his dad as he pockets his phone again. “Carlos is coming, I better get changed” he replies and his dad smiles at him and moves over to hug him tightly against him. “You need anything, you let me know okay?” TK hugs him back and whispers an I will into his father’s neck. “Talk to you tomorrow” he promises and then makes his way to the locker room to change. He passes people that he recognises from B shift but can only nod at the sympathetic looks that are sent his way as he moves through the station. He changes quickly, swears under his breath when he realises, he’s left his hoodie at home, but writes it off as just another part of the bad day and wraps his arms around himself as he exits the locker room. The lower floor is empty as he walks out into the night and when he turns to look for the familiar sight of his boyfriend’s car, he instead finds the man himself walking towards him. “Hey you” Carlos greets him warmly and TK feels the little scrap of control he’d been holding onto disappear, suddenly he can’t hold back as he closes the gap between them and steps into the waiting arms that are quick to surround him. A sob escapes before he can hold it back and he grabs the front of his boyfriend’s shirt as he lets himself give in to the grief. “It was so horrible,” he says when he can make his voice work again and Carlos squeezes him tighter and presses a kiss to the side of his head. “I know” Carlos whispers and TK hides in his arms and closes his eyes, his face pressed into his shoulder. He thinks of the people that are going to be without the people they love tonight because of a split-second mistake, their lives forever changed and tries to push away the thought of Carlos ever not being here, with him. He pulls back slightly, allowing himself to be able to meet the eye of his boyfriend and ignores the tears that are still coming down his face. “I don’t know if I say it enough, but I really love you” TK whimpers and Carlos brings one hand up to cup his cheek “I really love you too. I always know without you saying it, okay?” Carlos says and TK nods in reply before leaning back into his embrace again. “Home?” TK asks simply and Carlos just hums in reply before stepping back and slinging one arm around his shoulders and leading TK towards his car. “Home” Carlos confirms.

#tarlos #tarlos fic #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #Tarlosweek2022 #my writing #sarcasticslothy