#you have no idea how much i just sit around wistfully thinking about making album art for stuff

[beatcroc]

actually no wait my dream job is drawing album art for the furries on bandcamp making insane edm

#you have no idea how much i just sit around wistfully thinking about making album art for stuff #i do a lot oc stuff that's album art styled already i shrimply think its fun #ehehehe. PUT me on your music it will be cool and epic #bweeeaaahh

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 121: Record

"I found some weird box full of muggle stuff," Ron called, carrying said weird box out into the open living room that Hermione and Draco were working in since they had mandatory cleaning on Saturday mornings for everyone who lived in Grimmauld. "I don't even know what these are," he added, holding up flat, black circles with holes in the middle.

"They're records," Hermione replied, glancing up from the cabinet she was working on cleaning out. "They play music," she elaborated.

Ron made a face, "They're probably junk," he replied.

"What are?" Harry asked as he emerged from the creepy closet off of the kitchen, covered in spider webs.

"These records," Ron said, kicking the box with his toe.

"Oh," Harry said, making his way over, "Were they Sirius', do you reckon?"

"It says 'Lily Evans' on the side," Draco pointed out.

"Probably junk either way," Ron said.

Draco Malfoy had spent more than half of his life in love with Harry Potter. He might not have called it love when he was young but the older he got, the more clear it became that he had been a lovesick idiot for most of his life. He'd spent a lifetime memorizing every detail of that face. So he couldn't really be blamed for noticing the split second of hurt that flashed across Harry's face before he nodded, "Yeah. You're probably right. I'll just run them out to the bin."

"Let me," he said before he'd really formed a plan. "I've got all this to take out anyway," he said, gesturing to the box of junk that he'd weeded out this morning. "And we all know that Kreacher has less of a problem with it when I do it."

Harry gave him a little smile that Draco wondered if anyone believed was genuine. "Thanks," he said.

Draco levitated his box and the box of records and headed down toward the kitchen. When he was out of ear shot he murmured, "Kreacher," and the elf appeared.

"Yes, Master Draco?"

"Hi," he said, giving him a little nod, "Could you help me with something?"

"Anything!" he replied, nodding hard enough that his ears flapped.

"Could you hold onto this box for me?" he asked, gesturing to the box with the records.

"Of course," he said, immediately taking the box and disappearing.

Draco nodded in satisfaction and started plotting how he'd learn enough about records that he could help Harry use his mother's.

(Read more below the cut)

Two weeks later, on another Saturday morning cleaning day, he still hadn't made much progress. Luna had actually been the most helpful but he hadn't any idea where to find a record player.

But as luck would have it, one turned up in the library, tucked in a cabinet behind some very dusty potion vials and a rusted old cauldron. "Kreacher," he whispered.

When he appeared he held out the record player and asked him to keep it with the records.

He felt quite pleased with himself now that he'd found the record player; he was certain that he'd be able to play records for Harry in no time.

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

It took a couple more weeks. Figuring out how to get electricity into the house was no easy feat (but it was easier once he found out that someone, Sirius he suspected, had done it before).

When Harry arrived home that evening, Draco dragged him into the living room, "Draco, what is going on?" he asked, laughing at him as he tried to get him to hurry up.

"I have something for you," he said, nudging him into the room and presenting the record player. "Ta da!"

"Err," Harry said, looking more closely at it, "What is it?"

"It's a record player," he said.

Harry's head whipped around so fast that it made Draco feel dizzy, "What?" he whispered.

"I found it," Draco said, "when I was cleaning in the library. And I thought you might," he shrugged and reached for the box of records, holding it out to Harry, "I thought you might want to listen to them."

The other man looked at him then down at the box in his hands, eyes wide as he reached out a trembling hand to brush his fingers over the spot where 'Lily Evans' was inscribed on the cardboard box. "You," he started before breaking off and covering his mouth with his hand. "I don't know what to say," he whispered.

His heart was full to bursting and he was pretty sure he'd never done anything as good as this in his life. "Would you like to listen to one?"

Harry looked up at him and nodded.

Carefully, he took out the record on the top and slipped it out of it's jacket, "Ella Fitzgerald," he said. "I've no idea who that is."

"Me either," Harry replied, coming closer to watch over Draco's shoulder as he set the record on the plate, turned the player on, and set the needle.

Music spilled forth entrancing them both, It's not the pale moon that excites me, that thrills and delights me, oh no, it's just the nearness of you.

"Wow," Harry murmured, watching the record spin. He turned to Draco, "I can't tell you what this means to me," he whispered. "Thank you."

He shrugged but couldn't quite keep the pleased smile from his face. "You're welcome."

Harry looked back at the record player before looking over at Draco again, "Do you want to sit and listen with me?"

He nodded, "I'd like that very much."

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

It became something that the two of them did together fairly regularly after that. Sometimes they'd sit together and read while they listened to records, sometimes they'd talk while they listened, or catch up on work, or just listen together but it quickly became Draco's favorite pastime.

One Friday night while Ron and Hermione were out on a date, Ginny was away for a tournament, and Luna was working late, the two of them put on a record and ate dinner in the living room, continuing to drink wine while they talked and laughed long after their pasta was gone.

As the Bob Marley album, Exodus, came to an end, Draco stood up and made his way over to the box. "Etta James," he read, "At Last." He smiled and showed it to Harry, "look, she drew little hearts next to the song titles."

Harry smiled that melancholy sort of smile that made Draco ache inside. "Let's hear it, then."

Draco put it on for them and plopped back down on the floor in front of the sofa, his side mere inches away from Harry's, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off his body.

"I like this one," Harry sighed thirty seconds in as he leaned his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. "Do you think they used to dance to this one?" he murmured wistfully.

Draco's heart clenched painfully as he was overwhelmed by the sense of loss that Harry must feel constantly. He had to take a slow deep breath before he responded. "Maybe," he whispered back.

The corner of Harry's mouth curled up in a soft smile, "I think they liked to dance," he murmured. "Hagrid gave me a picture of the two of them dancing together when I was at Hogwarts."

"Yeah?" he asked, hoping Harry would say more about that.

Harry nodded, "They looked really happy, you know?" he said. "Like they were the only two people in the world, like they weren't in the middle of a war," he sighed. "I like to imagine both of them dancing with me when I was a baby," he confessed in a whisper, "when I was crying or something. I like to imagine that the love that saved my life was tangible all the time, you know?" he murmured.

"I'm sure it was," Draco said softly.

He leaned over and rested his head on Draco's shoulder and Draco hardly dared to breathe. After a moment Harry said, "Would you dance with me?"

"Yes," he breathed immediately. "Yeah, of course I would."

"Yeah?" Harry asked, sitting up slightly to look at him.

Draco nodded and stood up, reaching for Harry's hand and tugging him up after him. He kept Harry left hand in his right and wrapped his left arm around Harry's shoulder, leaving space for Harry's right arm around his waist.

The other man hummed softly, drawing Draco in a little closer and closing his eyes as they swayed around the room. Draco couldn't stop staring; at the way Harry's eyelashes were long enough that they brushed his glasses, at the tiny nearly invisible freckles that dusted his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, at the barely visible wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, at his lovely full lips, and the way his stubble looked against his skin.

I love you he couldn't help but think, over and over like it was a personal mantra, like it was the only thing that could keep him alive; he ached with it, with the desire to hold him, to kiss him, to tell him what he really thought of him, to build a life with him, to give him everything that he deserved to have.

Harry's eyes blinked open as the song came to an end, his brows furrowing slightly as he brought his hand up to cup Draco's cheek, "Are you alright?" he asked softly, wiping a tear that had slipped out.

"Merlin, sorry," Draco said, taking a step back to wipe his eyes. "Sorry. It's just your life has been so unfair and when I think about you not really knowing your parents and having to live with your shitty relatives, and-" he choked on the tears.

"Hey," Harry murmured, pulling Draco back into his arms and rubbing his back, "Hey, it's alright."

"It's not alright," he managed.

"Well, no," Harry agreed, "I suppose it isn't. But it's all past now," he said. "Now I have my friends and I live with people who love me and whom I love," he carded his fingers through the hair at the base of Draco's neck. "Ron and Hermione, Luna and Ginny," he swallowed, "you."

"I just wish," he started before breaking off because finishing that sentence would be showing far too much of his hand.

Harry drew back slightly to look at him, "What?"

His eyes were so open, so earnest that Draco couldn't help himself. "I wish you'd let me love you the way you deserve to be loved."

The other man blinked, "What do you mean?"

"Promise me that nothing changes if you don't like what I have to say," he said, clenching his fingers in Harry's t-shirt.

"I promise. You're one of my best friends, Draco," he assured.

He took a deep breath, "I'm in love with you," he finally managed. "And I just want to love you, all the time. I want to hold your hand, and dance with you, and make you laugh, and surprise you. I want so many things for you-"

"Me too," Harry interrupted. "I'm in love with you, too, I mean."

"Really?" he whispered, hardly daring to believe it, his eyes welling up with tears again.

"Oh, love," Harry said with a little smile, wiping Draco's eyes with his thumbs, "Yes, really. Come here," he said, pulling him in closer and swaying to the music, letting Draco cling to him as they moved together.

As they continued to dance, Harry started to tell him all of the things that he dreamed about for the future together. Painting a picture of the beautiful life they could have and after a few minutes, Draco joined in, adding bits of his hopes as well.

They stayed up late into the night, talking and dreaming of the life they wanted to give each other. And every time they fought after that, one of them would get out the record player and they'd dance together and remind each other of the lives they wanted to build.

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

Day 120: Tough | Day 122: Moon

#100 drabbles in 100 days #one year of drarry drabbles #drarry #drarry ficlets #drarry drabbles #fluff #pining #like a lot of pining #boys in love #love confessions #acts of love #this one got away from me #but I sort of love it #getting together #friends to lovers

[evilregal2002]

Ajak x Human!Reader All Too Well Chapter 2

Hey guys! I am so incredibly sorry it took me so long to post this. I have had extreme writers block, and then every time I had an idea to continue writing this I was too busy to do so. I have finally been able to carve out some time while visiting some friends and family in my home state who I don't see that often. I based chapter 2 on just one verse, where unlike the first chapter I based it on multiple verses. But, I wanted to post something because I was feeling really bad that it has taken me so long to post something. It was kinda written in haste so I am sure it has many errors so let me apologize in advice for that. I'm not super thrilled with this chapter but I hope it's better than nothing. If anyone has any critiques or want to see anything specific in the upcoming chapters just send me a message!

Warnings- none, just some fluff

Word count- 1,042

Chapter 2

Photo Album on the Counter, Your cheeks Turning Red

3 years ago

Looking around her friends’ house you notice how much stuff she has. Random objects cover almost every surface, including a bookshelf lined with photo albums. Staring at the bookshelf curious you don’t even notice the minute Ajaks friend asks you a question.

“I’m so sorry, what did you say?” You ask embarrassed as both Ajak and Sersi laugh. Blushing you look down trying to hide your red face.

“I just asked if I could take your coat?” Sersi repeats in a gentle tone, probably trying to make you feel better. Looking up from the ground you notice the kind glint in her eyes as she waits for your answer.

“Yeah, yeah that would be great thank you so much.” You quickly say as you take your coat off handing it to her. “You really have a beautiful home Sersi.” You comment looking around her apartment one more time.

Laughing wistfully she thanks you before heading towards the living room motioning for you and Ajak to follow her.

“I like to collect things from my travels, and sometimes I’ll see something that I feel like I can’t live without.”

Walking over towards the bookshelf you run your finger along the spines of the books. Stopping on an old leather-bound book you quickly look over your shoulder noticing Ajak and Sersi occupied in a conversation.

“If you don’t mind me asking what’s this?” You casually ask with your pointer finger lightly resting on the spine of the book.

Seeing Sersi’s face light up like a child on Christmas she gracefully walks over to you and picks up the book from the self. Looking over at Ajak you notice a light blushing covering her face. Now the curiosity is defiantly there if you weren’t curious before.

Walking over to the kitchen table the puts down the heavy leather bound book with a thud. Sitting down she motions for you to come over to the seat next to her, looking slightly reluctant Ajak takes the seat across from Sersi.

“This,” Sersi motions to the book, “is a photo album of a bunch of our friends from college.” She opens one of the pages where a bunch of people are standing dressed in what looks like traditional Indian wedding outfits. Looking more closely you notice Ajak with a piece of cloth in her hands and red eyes.

“When was this?” You question.

“That was taken at my wedding,” Sersi responds quietly looking at the picture with what looks like longing. Looking up at Ajak she simply shakes her head as if to tell you to not say anything more.

“Do you have any embarrassing pictures of Ajak,” you ask with a smirk looking at Ajak with mischief twinkling in your eyes.

Seeing a smile return to Sersi’s face slowly you know that you were able to lighten the move somewhat, something that Ajak says she loves about you. But, looking at her right now you don’t think she loves that quality at the moment.

“Actually I do!” Flipping through the pages you get glimpses of other people including the ones in the picture. Stopping on a picture of Ajak holding what looks like a baseball bat with a grimace on her face. Wearing a baseball hat and a pair of sunglasses she is looking off in the distance somewhere behind the camera.

“Wait, I didn’t know you played baseball!” You comment excitedly.

Looking almost shy a blush that was once only covering her face is now covering her chest as well. Hearing Sersi chuckle you look between the two waiting for an explanation.

“I don’t mi vida, that was a one time thing.” Ajak quickly clarifies with the same grimace seen in the picture.

“So what happened to cause the grimace on your face in the picture?” The question automatically causes Sersi’s quiet chuckles to turn into full fledge laughter.

“I may have hit the ball a little too hard and it ended up breaking someones car window…” She confesses shyly.

“Aww baby, please tell you you guys waited for the person whose car it was to show up and explain what happened?”

“We did, let’s just say they weren’t happy. We also had to pay for his passenger side window to get replaced.”

Unable to stop the laughter from bubbling up and coming out you see Ajak trying to suppress a smile until your and Sersi’s laughter causes her to laugh also.

After looking a some more pictures and eventually eating dinner you and Ajak say your goodbyes to Sersi. Walking out in the cold windy air you shiver causing Ajak to wrap her arm around you to help warm you. Smiling you look down before glancing over at her as you both walk to the car. Feeling your gaze on her face she looks over before kissing you softly and quickly so you both and keep walking to the car.

Stopping your trek to the car you grab her hand looking into her curious eyes before kissing her once again, abet this time making it slightly longer than the first one.

“I love you, you know that right?” You ask her shyly suddenly losing any confidence you had a few seconds ago.

“I love you too Y/N, forever and always. I wouldn’t let just anyone see the most embarrassing pictures of me.” She replies easily. Looking deeply into her eyes all you can find is love and adoration. Smiling you wrap your arms around her neck before pulling her into a hug and nuzzling your cold nose into her warm neck. Feeling her wrap her arms around your waist you tighten your hold feeling her do the same. Kissing you on your temple she pulls back slightly to give you a smile and a peck on the cheek

“As much as I love this, it is freezing out here mi corazon. Do you think maybe we can continue this at home?” She asks you gently wanting to make sure you were okay before letting her go.

Smiling brightly at her you nod before unlacing you hands from behind her neck and grabbing her hand leading her to the car.

#ajak x reader #Ajak #Marvel #the eternals #wlw #damn writing is hard #eternals #all too well #marvel ladies #salma hayek

[angelz-dust]

masters of none - part 4 (jason todd x reader)

summary: after many months, we are back in action and back in reader’s head. pls enjoy these jason crumbs. if you need a refresher on the plot, the other chapters will be linked below!

word count: 3.7k

warnings: food/eating. alcohol. cursing.

part 1 /// part 2 //// part 3

gravity

ever since i ever felt ya, right there life couldn't seem better. tulip flowers in my sweater. ask me now, is this forever?

…

you rested your chin on the table before you, your arms hanging limply between your knees as you listened to your manager, dana. you were really just watching her mouth open and close while she pointed at a powerpoint. god, what you would've given for an extra hour of sleep. the all nighters in the studio were starting to take a toll. 

the feeling of the back of daisy’s soft hands brought you back to earth. the smell of cocoa butter dancing beneath your nostrils as her smooth engagement ring rolled across your cheek. you breathed in her smell, exhaling in content through your nose.

“you good?” she mouthed and you closed your eyes, giving her a little nod. the bassist rubbed her calloused fingers against your forehead, pushing strands of your hair past your hairline. you pouted when she eventually pulled away, leaving you only with the sensation of touch that once was.

you heard tyler shift in his seat and then felt some air graze against your hand. you looked under the table, noticing he was holding something out to you. you two made eye contact briefly before you scooted back in, grabbing what felt like an envelope. looking down at your lap, you saw a sticky note attached to it. jason’s money was what it said. you carefully put the envelope in your jacket pocket, sitting back in your seat now and looking at dana’s powerpoint. she was going over reports from your publicist, jerry, which you didn't particularly care about.

“now, i have to ask,” dana’s words pierced your bubble of inattention. “have you all thought about what i said about this next album?”

jordy raised his hand like a school kid. “yes?”

“y/n and i decided that we'd be okay with making our album a group project. it has been, admittedly, kinda hard and boring without everyone else. we’d honestly be doing ourselves a disservice by not doing it together,” jordy explained, dana clapping her hands together.

“wonderful,” she nodded, keeping her hands clasped. “i know you two were excited to do your own thing, but i was talking to jerry and he was really pressing me to get a group album from you guys. the people wanna see you guys as a unit of established artists, which you all are. so what's the concept? we never discussed it.”

“uh,” you verbally paused, raising your arms above your head to stretch. “disco, jazz, and funk. it's a mix of those.”

“retro is in right now,” dana nodded, pacing around the room. “how far back will this set us on a release date?”

you grimaced, leaning back in your seat, the back of the seat lightly bouncing as it absorbed your weight. you pondered the question for a moment. “if it’s gonna be a group thing, it'll have to be significantly longer. we have a decent starting off point but i'm gonna need way more songs now.”

“what about the rest of you? any tracks that we could swing?” dana asked, looking at the rest of the group. 

grabbing a pen and piece of scrap paper, you started jotting down notes as everyone spoke out to you. dex and quinton didn’t have anything, but they wouldn’t be a problem. you just needed to give them a beat to rap over and you’d be set. the twins had a finished song already that fit the concept, which was good. with tyler’s voice and aly’s excellent song writing abilities, you doubted very seriously that anything else needed to be done to it. daisy and hector had plenty of lyricless songs, too. funk and soul was their specialty, after all. misha even had a demo track she was willing to share. 

you looked over the notes you had taken, tapping your pen on the table as you hummed to yourself. “this could probably work. we’ll need to go over everything in the studio, though.”

“we should just do it now. no one is doing shit else today, right?” dex asked the group, who all shook their head. 

“i have a request,” you raised your finger, looking at dana. “i want gotham to be involved in this project.”

“gotham…” dana repeated slowly, unsure of what you meant. “care to elaborate?”

“music videos directed by student directors from gotham university, commissioning local artists for album art. dancers, actors, musicians, whatever. all of them have to be from gotham. i don't want any of the money we put into this project leaving this city,” you stated firmly, dana giving you a blank look. 

“i like that idea,” hector said, giving you a kind smile before turning to dana, shifting in his seat. the drummer was like a big brother, always backing you up in moments like these. “accessibility to the arts is really limited here and we should change that.”

“i’d rather give back to the city, too,” quinton agreed, playing with the gold cross hanging from his neck. “we’re one of the only groups in gotham known outside of gotham. we should use that as an opportunity to rep our city.”

“it sounds like you have your minds made up on this,” dana narrowed her eyes, letting out a sigh. “it would definitely be good PR.”

“because god forbid we do something out of the kindness of our hearts,” misha laughed, rolling her eyes. “we're trying to put the city on and you're worried about how it makes us look.”

“that's my job, misha. don't you want me to do my job?” dana retorted. “besides, i'm more concerned with the funding. you all don't have disposable income, believe it or not.”

“but i know someone who does,” she said with a singsong tone, giving you a look.

“i hope you're not referring to me,” you deadpanned. your income was far from disposable.

“i’m referring to our good friend, bruce wayne,” she explained, grabbing a business card out of her purse, handing it over to dana. “ever since i got invited to that charity gala, i've had a direct line to a representative with the wayne foundation. i say we ask them to help fund the project.”

“now that could work,” dana admitted, eyeing the card as she tapped her foot. “if we pitch for more youth involvement, it'll probably go over better. we all know how much bruce wayne loves saving the children.”

you frowned at how dana described bruce’s initiatives as a philanthropist. you were sure his motivations for favoring youth projects were good intentioned, considering his parents had been killed when he was just a little boy. you wanted to go into this good intentioned, too and you hoped that they'd agree. they being the wayne foundation and subsequently, bruce himself.

“ty and quinton could do something with forrester. if we’re going for the youth involvement route, i mean,” aly spoke up. 

“forrester correctional. our old stomping grounds,” quinton sighed wistfully as he patted tyler on the shoulder. “i think that would be a good idea.”

“they use the arts as an outlet for them, so it could be beneficial for everyone,” tyler nodded. “there are a lot of good kids there. just unfortunate circumstances, that’s all.”

“wasn’t one of bruce’s son’s a troublemaker before he was adopted?” aly continued, not noticing the look you and tyler shared. “i’m sure he’d probably be interested in doing something with them if his son comes from the same background.”

“it’s settled, then. you all keep working on the music. jerry and i will handle the rest. we need this album out before hector and daisy’s wedding,” dana said, grabbing her suitcase. 

…

hey, i have your money. did you still want it?

you stared down at the unsent message, your thumb floating over the send arrow. you hadn’t spoken to jason since that night after the race, as per his request. your mind kept wandering back to it, even as time still went on. what happened was scary, to say the least. fun, but scary. you wondered how the hell jason didn’t get the two of you killed. that part, you didn't want to think about too hard. everyone in gotham had their secrets and it was an unspoken rule amongst citizens to not pry. secrets were secrets for a reason. nothing good ever came from unearthing them.

speaking of secrets, you hadn't exactly told tyler and quinton what happened that night. not in detail. you conveniently left out the chase and stopping to get something to eat. omitting the first part was obvious, but the second one was for your own sanity. you didn't need them teasing you over nothing. besides, all that mattered was no one was dead or arrested. and for the way the three of you used to get down, that was a win. 

you considered texting jason earlier this week, just to check in on him, but you decided against it. he obviously wanted you to text him and you obviously had to do the opposite. his little mind game wasn’t going to work on you. you pressed send, frowning immediately as you did so.

maybe it already had.

“it’s too many people in this bitch,” dex sighed, the cold of the water bottle you had asked him for against your hand bringing you back to reality. blinking, you were suddenly very aware of the chaos surrounding you in the studio as you put your phone back in your pocket. you looked to your left, where jordy was leaning against the wall and scrolling through his phone. to your right was aly, who was scribbling in her songbook in the chair next to you. you remembered you were supposed to be working, too. “we need a new stu.”

“i’m working on it!” hector hollered from inside the booth as he and daisy were setting up equipment and instruments. you glanced up at the glass in front when you heard his voice, accidentally catching the pair share a little kiss. you quickly averted your gaze, smiling to yourself.

“new stu, new view, what it do?” quinton began to freestyle to a beat he was making on the coffee table in front of him. “off 92, posted up with southside crew.” 

“okay,” dex laughed, noddinh his head as he was vibing with the beat, making his way out of your line of sight. you heard someone, presumably tyler, join in and add some depth to the beat. it sounded like he was hitting a pencil against a shot glass.

“i got a new boo, but i’m tryna slide with misha, too,” quinton continued, dex adlibbing in the back as quinton lowered his voice to his signature melodic whisper. “on the low, nobody gotta know.”

“would you shut the fuck up?” you heard misha say, followed by a barrage of muffled smacking noises and verbal objections from quinton, who you assumed was on the receiving end of what sounded like an assault by pillow.

laughing to yourself, you leaned your head in aly’s direction, not fully facing her. “pass me the flash drive?” you held your hand out weakly. once you felt the plastic in your palm, you leaned back over and put it into the computer, pulling up the proper files. 

“we’re done back here,” daisy smiled at you, she and hector coming out from the booth. 

you clapped your hands together. “wonderful. everybody shut up, please.”

you pulled up the twin’s song and let it play, your eyes fixed on the colorful audio loops on the screen. the green ones were tyler’s vocals, the purple were aly’s. it looked like blue was reserved for instruments and red was any added sound effects or layered sounds. 

“you two sound really great,” jordy walked up behind aly’s seat, leaning against it as he swayed his head to the beat. 

“thanks. i wrote it with our mother in mind,” aly said, the words coming out of her mouth uncomfortably. you placed your hand on hers and gave it a little squeeze, which earned you a look of appreciation.

“it's missing something, though,” tyler scratched the back of his head. “i need the producer squad to give us some assistance.”

“oh, say less,” dex laughed, snapping his fingers to the beat with one hand and holding his glass of hennessy in the other. he danced his way over, taking aly’s seat as she, tyler and jordy moved to give you all some space. 

misha sauntered her way over, sitting against the table and flipping her hair over her shoulder. the smell of her sweet perfume floated in the air around you. “i think it just needs some fluffing up. some snapping might work. more vocal layering in certain spots.”

“i agree,” you nodded, dex letting out a satisfied sigh as he took a sip of his cold drink. 

“is it good?” misha asked him teasingly and he took his final swig, letting out a more dramatic and drawn out sigh. this time, though, it was on beat with the song. you were pretty sure it was unintentional on his part, since he and misha just shared a laugh before returning their attention to the screen.

after a moment of pondering, you swiveled around in your chair, looking at tyler. “okay, hear me out…”

…

two weeks of very diligent working between the nine of you had given you a lot to work with for the album. all that was left was to start putting things together. you still had a ways to go, but you had a good starting off point. as much as you hated to admit it, it was a good call on dana’s part to have you all do a group album. the fans seemed to be greatly anticipating the release and the work ethic the nine of you shared was incredible. even in that cramped little studio, you all made it work.

you all agreed to take the day off, but you were still working at some capacity. you had just traded one small space for another, working in your walk-in closet/home studio for the day. you still needed said walk-in to function as a closet, so there were still garment bags pushed up into a corner and shoe boxes haphazardly stacked, surrounding your desk that you had shoved in there. there was just enough space for you to move your chair and safely get out without twisting an ankle, a fate you often flirted with in that room.

in the spirit of your day off, you hadn't done anything too difficult. you were just trying to decide what order you wanted the completed songs to go in. it may seem like an insignificant detail, but the order was important. the transitions between songs couldn't be jarring for the listener. everything had to flow together with natural progression. at this point, it didn't matter since you weren't done with the album, but it was just giving you an idea of how to fill the gaps with future songs. 

the sound of your growling stomach indicated that it was time to stop for the day. you quickly saved all your work and headed to the kitchen. you popped some leftovers in the microwave and scrolled on twitter while you waited. the microwave beeped at you, so you set your phone back down and grabbed the bowl, mixing up the contents with your fork. the flash of light coming from your phone got your attention. a text notification.

are you home?

oh, so now he wanted to respond? cute.

despite your annoyance with the situation, you quickly responded with a yes and set the phone back down. you leaned against the counter, eating what little food you had in your reheated bowl. you mixed the contents around with your fork, grumbling. stupid jason and his stupid inability to text back. he could have at least had the decency to leave you on read. he probably didn't even have read receipts on. you weren't sure which was worse. tossing your now empty bowl into the sink, you grabbed your phone to read his next message.

i’ll be over soon. 

soon was very vague and you wished that you would've demanded an exact time, but that opportunity had passed by the time you thought about it. you busied yourself with tidying up, trying to make your place look presentable. you even lit your new candle, which you found yourself focusing your attention on while you waited for him to show up. staring at the flame was much more entrancing than you anticipated.

you heard the door buzzer go off. you weren't expecting anyone else, so it had to be him. you leaned against the wall, pressing your finger to the button.

“who goes there?” you presented the question as a joke, but your tone was a little flat.

“it’s the irs,” jason’s voice came through and you buzzed him in. 

not too long after, you heard him knock on the door. you cracked it open and the first thing you noticed was his cologne. it was a strong but pleasant scent. spicy and sweet. it was very intoxicating, actually. so much so that you almost forgot you were angry at him.

“hi.”

“hello.”

you opened the door fully and handed the envelope to him. jason eyed it suspiciously. he opened it up and began to count it out in front of you. he made an effort to do it very slow, the sound of the crisp dollars echoing in the quiet hall. his eyes stayed glued to yours as he counted out loud. you leaned against the doorframe as you watched.

“six… seven… eight,” he said, pulling out his wallet and stuffing it with the cash. “thought you would've skimmed some off the top.”

“i should have with how long you made me wait,” you said matter of factly, letting your annoyance be known now. 

“i know. i’m sorry,” he sounded honest but you couldn't see it in his face or in his eyes, which was worrisome. it was a nice alternative to listening to a sputter of excuses, though. “let me make it up to you?”

“how do you plan on doing that?”

“i’m so glad you asked,” he smiled. “as it turns out, i've recently come into some money. let me spend it on you?”

“so you like throwing money at your problems?” you asked him. well, you weren't really asking. it was more like you were telling him. 

“no,” he said, sounding a little offended. “i just thought-”

“you just thought that throwing money at me would make me forget about the fact that you ignored me for a month.”

“no, no,” he shook his head, sighing in frustration. “listen, i-”

“i really don't wanna hear it,” you said honestly, watching as his frustrated look turned into kicked puppy. you almost felt bad. “i don't like feeling stupid, jason. that's how i feel right now. i want you to make it up to me but you'll have to be a bit more creative than this.”

“you want me to make it up to you?” jason had repeated, confusion on his face. 

you poked him harshly in the chest. “you do that or you leave me alone. those are your options. goodbye.”

you shut the door in his face and let out the breath you were holding in. you weren’t sure how jason was going to react to your little ultimatum, but those were your terms. you liked him but you weren’t going to stress over someone you barely knew, especially with your assumptions about him floating around in your head. 

“i’ll be right back,” you heard him say through the door, catching you off guard. 

“what?”

“don’t go anywhere.”

you didn’t respond but you heard his footsteps getting quieter as he walked down the hall. the elevator ding indicated that he had left. you stood there, confused as to what it was he was trying to do. you were still stewing in your negative emotions, so you went and busied yourself again. you decided the dishes needed washing and got on it right away. in the middle of scrubbing the stubborn sauce stains out of your plate, you heard your door buzzer go off again. 

so he did come back after all. interesting.

you buzzed him in like you did before and waited by the door for him. he knocked and when you opened it, you were met with two gifts: a bouquet of pink tulips and a small box of something from the bakery around the corner. 

“i shouldn’t have ignored you. it was rude and stupid and i’m sorry. it won’t happen again,” he said to you, holding out the items to you. you hesitantly accepted them, taking the opportunity to look through the plastic opening of the box to see chocolate covered strawberries. 

“it better not happen again,” you pouted, looking up at him. you had to appreciate the effort he put in at such short notice. it was a sweet gesture and he actually looked sorry this time. 

“it won’t,” he assured you and you smiled.

“i forgive you. but you’re on thin fucking ice,” you reminded him and he grinned at you with a nod.

“i’m going to make it up to you. just you wait,” he said confidently. “not all of us are naturally creative like you, though. you gotta give me some time to think of something else.”

“seems like you’re getting your feet wet with the flower selection,” you noted, taking a whiff of the delicate and fresh scent. they’d look nice on your coffee table.

“lady at the shop said they would convey my sincerest apologies,” he explained, a hopeful look in his eyes. “did it work?”

“for now,” you shrugged, setting the items down on the table next to the door. 

“i can accept that.”

“you’re gonna have to because that’s all i’m giving you,” you said firmly. his charm wasn’t going to get him out of this one. not completely. “now go away. i want to eat my berries in peace.”

“i’ll text you as soon as i get the chance,” he told you as you were shutting the door. you peered at him, narrowing your eyes before shutting it again. “i’m serious!”

“goodbye, jason!” you said through the door. you heard his faint farewell as you walked away, plopping on the couch with your dessert in hand.

were you still a little mad at him? yes. but you weren’t going to pass up free stuff, even if you had made all that fuss about the money earlier. at least the gifts had some thought behind them. so long as he held up his end of the deal, you had a feeling being friends with jason wouldn’t be that bad.

hopefully, anyway.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #dc x reader #jason todd #red hood

[serenasoutherlyns]

Not a Summer Crush Part Three

a/n: this one has some very fun special guests. bonus points for past calvak (s/o @storiesofsvu) in this one, and generally very fun cute pining. any feedback is forever appreciated!!!!!

Part Three

A week after you all had drinks, Rita Calhoun flew into Casey's office with a truly impressive amount of speed, banging the door against the wall, causing Casey to jump in her seat.

"Christ, Rita!" she said, catching her breath. Rita stared at Casey, like she was waiting for her to admit something. Casey had no clue what. "Can I help you with something?"

"Casey Marie Cabot Novak," Rita began. Oh God, not the whole full name, she thought.

"What did I do?" Casey asked, running her current cases over in her head, trying to come up with a place where she could've messed up. It was after the last jury of the day, and she was going over her usual end-of-the-day routine.

Rita closed her eyes and breathed. "Casey. Please tell me that you aren't having an affair with Caroline Haley."

That was not what Casey was expecting.

"What!?" Casey tried to say more things, but her brain was buzzing far too loudly. Where on earth had Rita gotten that idea?

"Don't play dumb with me Casey, just tell me, yes or no, are you sleeping with her."

"Literally, no? Absolutely not, obviously no, in no way am I having an affair with my junior colleague; and I resent your implication that I would, and I resent how you just barged in here and yelled at me."

Rita looked satisfied. Either she'd convinced her that she was telling the truth, or whatever authority she'd received this intel from was unreliable.

Casey continued in a more subdued tone of voice. "Who said I was sleeping with Caroline."

Rita took a deep breath. "Nobody did. I just guessed, and when all the pieces fell into place, I freaked out a bit." Casey looked at her. "I think the lady protests too much, though."

Usually, Casey would come back at her with an equally witty comment, correct Rita’s misquote, or, if she was feeling particularly flustered or tired, throw something. Instead, she sunk into her chair and hid her face in her hands, clearly distraught.

"Casey? What's wrong?" Rita asked, trying to pull her best approximation of sweetness out for her friend.

"You're right."

"I'm right you two are..."

"NO!" Casey almost yelled. "No," she reiterated quietly.

"What am I right about then?" Rita asked, somehow more confused than she was when she thought there was something illicit going on.

"I have feelings for her? I guess?"

"Oh, Casey. Did you tell Alex? I mean, it's pretty normal to be attracted to people other than your spouse..." Rita had taken a seat on her couch, obviously a bit uncomfortable with all this sharing of emotions.

Casey had progressed from the startled rage to a quiet sniffle, the kind one gets when they try to keep themself from crying.

"No," a sniff, "she told me."

"Alex noticed?"

"Alex brought it up. About a month ago."

"So, Alex is the one having an affair?" Casey dotted at her face with a tissue, collecting her composure.

"No, she isn't. Um, there's no good way to say it, but... We both wish we were, all having an affair, I guess? but we aren't?"

Rita whistled, a low bell noise. "That's... a situation for sure."

"It is."

"How did that conversation go? 'Hey babe, I like that new junior ADA, we should try to get her to be our third?'"

Casey scoffed. "No? We're not going to ask her out."

"Why not?" Casey just gave her a look, between incredulity and intrigue."I mean, you two are hot, she's gay, and literally nobody could turn you down."

"That's it though, isn't it? She's ten years younger than me, and we're kind of in charge of her at work. The power imbalance is less than ideal." Casey said, wistfully.

"You were sleeping with Mary Clark when you were 27," Rita said with a shrug.

Casey looked her in the eye. "How did you know that?"

---

Alex knocked very gently on Serena's office door. It was the end of the workday and Serena would be nearly done for the evening. A quiet "come in" came from inside, and Alex did.

Serena noticed something was wrong immediately. Alex always wondered how her friend was so perceptive.

"What's going on, Alex?" Serena asked, knowing that Alex didn't show up without texting unless something happened, in fact, she hardly ever made the trek uptown to her office space unannounced. She noticed a faraway look in Alex's eyes, saw her bite her lip, telltale signs that something was bothering her.

Alex closed the door behind her, leant against one of the comfy chairs in Serena's office. Alex always thought that if Serena wasn't such a good lawyer and passionate advocate, she should've been a therapist. Any space she was in was calm (really, she fit her name).

“Casey and I are, having a problem, I guess.”

Serena rose from behind her desk and met Alex, hugging her tightly. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry.” She let go, sat down, and motioned for Alex to do the same. “What kind of problem, Lex?”

Alex laced her fingers together and then tugged them apart. “It’s Caroline,” she began. “Haley,” she added, like Serena wouldn’t know who she was talking about.

Serena looked at her expecting her to go on. When she didn’t, she asked, “Is she ok?” Alex nodded. “What happened?” Alex’s expression turned more worried, she looked away from Serena. Not a good sign. Serena ventured a guess, hoping she wasn’t right. “Casey isn’t…” Alex shook her head. “Good.”

Serena paused, even more unwilling to imply what she was about to, “Are you?”

“God no,” Alex said, whispering. Serena wondered why Alex even came to her, knowing how self-reliant she was. So... If nobody is having an affair? Serena gave Alex one of her classic looks, that always made Alex feel like her mind was being read. Serena knows that it isn’t that, but it never fails to get her to talk. If nothing else, Alex hates silence.

Alex breathed deeply and tried to calm her hands. She flips the conversation over. “What do you think of her, Ser?” Serena waited a moment to answer, hoping that Alex would open up before she said anything, but seeing that would not be happening, Serena thought about her question.

“I think she’s a wonderful attorney,” she began, knowing full well that your legal prowess was not what was stressing Alex out. “She’s obviously really smart, um, she seems to care a lot about her friends... she’s really pretty, um, I like her, I guess? I don’t know her that well, Lex.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Serena looked at Alex again, as if to tell her that she was done talking for now. “Um, she’s,” Alex swallowed, took a sip from the travel mug she always carried, “unreasonably beautiful.”

Serena was taken aback at her friend’s choice of words, how she felt about the young attorney, yet, there was no affair happening, apparently. “Strong words. But, if neither of you are sleeping with her, what’s bothering you so much?”

Alex turned her gaze up towards the ceiling. “That neither of us is sleeping with her?”

Serena turned her eyebrows up, then narrowed her eyes, pushed her lips out, considering all the things that Alex could be implying as well as all the ways she could react. She opted for some humor, hoping to shock her friend out of her state. “All this over a threesome you haven’t had?”

It worked, and Alex gave her a thin laugh. “I guess so, yeah. Um, I don’t think either of us just want to have sex, though. I think it’s gone a little beyond that.”

Seeing Alex cheer up, Serena allowed herself to react more spontaneously. “Oh my god. You have a crush, and Casey has a crush.” Serena had an open mouthed expression on her face, the kind that would usually bother Alex when it’s at her expense.

Alex bit her lip into a sweet smile. “Casey’s pretty cute about it, too.”

“You should talk to her, Lex.” Serena said.

---

Ramin was sitting at the counter reading texts while you washed that night’s dinner dishes, drinking a glass of the basil lemonade you’d made (mixed with gin for the adults). Ramin could tell something had been bothering you all week, so he’d made your favorite for dinner, khoresh bademjan and rice (every time Ramin cooked, you thanked Ashley for having the sense to marry an Iranian man instead of the string of other French people he’d dated before him). You two had let Ashley go to bed early-- his company had a big premiere in a week that he was consumed by. The girls were long asleep. You danced around to the Googoosh album that Ramin had over the stereo, making him laugh with your dramatic interpretations of the violin lines. You got contemplative as you scrubbed a plate.

“Hey, Ram?” You asked as you stilled your feet and hands.

“Yeah, babes?” He replied, still looking at his phone.

“When you met Ashley, how did you know what you wanted, or that you wanted something with him?” You put the plate down, played with the sponge, turned around. Ramin bit his lip and looked at you. He turned down the music.

“I never like, made a conscious effort to decipher any of that. It was always very natural with him.”

“You never felt like, I don’t know, like, confused?”

Ramin shook his head. “No, no I didn’t. But Ash is so, uh, forthcoming,”

“Demanding,” you interrupted,

“I never had to guess with him,” he finished.

You nodded, picked up a pot to wash.

"Like, we were both single dads, so Léa wasn't an issue. And he never resented Lowell."

"People really did that?"

"You'd be surprised at how many people are jealous of a dead man," Ramin said, looking at the photo on the wall of his late husband with a newborn Léa. "Ash never was. And I just kinda, knew, you know?"

"I don’t, actually," you replied quietly. Ramin hummed.

"Why do you ask? You got a crush?"

You thought about outright denying it, going forward with your old strategy: deny your feelings until they disappear. But Ramin would know you were lying; and you were growing tired of pretending. Every wall that you'd built over the past few months knowing Casey and Alex started to crack. They wouldn't fall just yet. You shrugged noncommittally.

“Have you ever thought about what would happen if you met someone else?”

“God, I try not to.”

“No, like, someone you both want to, I don’t know, pursue.”

Ramin raised his eyebrows, took a sip of his drink. Smiled at you.

“Did someone ask you to have a threesome?”

Your cheeks burned and you held the pan up above your face. “No, but, ah, I think I want them to?”

Ramin’s jaw dropped, half natural reaction half exaggerated fascination. “Juicy,” he said.

“Pfft,” you replied to his teasing.

“Anyways, no I haven’t thought about that. I imagine it would be a lot of conversations and figuring out what everyone wanted. But also, like, I’m too old for that. And we have the girls and very busy jobs, I don’t think either of us has the mental or physical energy for that kind of thing,” said Ramin.

“You’re not that old.”

“I’m 35,” he said, lifting his shoulders and finishing his lemonade, motioning for you to get the pitcher back out of the fridge. He filled his glass again.

“You’re going to finish that before any of us get a second glass.” Ramin did not acknowledge your admonishment.

“I’m 35 and a widower with three kids. I think I get to call myself old.”

“Only because Ashley’s younger than you.”

“And you are a veritable infant.” Ramin retorted, eliciting a wounded look from you, then resolved to return to you. “So, who’re the lucky ladies?”

You groaned as you put away the sponge, the brush, the soap, and the dish towels. The kettle you had put on whistled. “Casey and Alex,” you replied with some effort not to explode at being genuine and sharing your feelings with a friend.

Ramin gave you a repeat of his earlier performance, except this time his jaw dropped in actual shock. “Lina!” He whisper-shouted, in the way one does when they’re trying not to wake up their daughters and grumpy husband. He whistled. “Did they ask you out?”

You bit your lip. “No. But, I wish they would?”

“You won’t get very far with wishing,” Ramin said, already having moved on to strategy, ever the analytical presence. “Also, you have to introduce me first.”

“I don’t have to do anything for you,” you said, teasingly, pouring the now-slightly cooled water from the kettle over a bag of mint tea and moving to the couch, Ramin following your lead.

“How hasn’t Ashley already told me all of this?” Ramin asked, citing Ashley’s famous inability to keep a secret.

“He doesn’t know,” you said.

Ramin nodded as he sipped his drink, then placed it on a coaster. “Probably smart.” He paused, got a mischievous look in his eyes. “I thought you didn’t do pining?”

You muffled a frustrated yell with a throw pillow.

---

"Mary told me," Rita said, "when you and I were involved," Casey gave a pained smile, remembering her first few years as an ADA in white collar, "she congratulated me, actually." Casey's eyes went blank. "I could've sworn I told you that then. What, Case, people talk about people. And she was right."

Casey let it be silent in her office for a moment. "OK, you knowing the details of my sexual past aside," she said, "what made you think I was having an affair?" She didn't want there to be any gossip around the office that could hurt you.

Rita took a second, looking very much the same as she did when she was preparing an argument in court. "Three things. You've been all jumpy and nervous, Alex has been spacey, and I mentioned you to Caroline and she got this enamored grin," Rita noticed Casey seemed surprised by her last point. "I realized as I was walking over to give you this, actually," she said, reaching into her messenger bag and producing a folded blue paper. "Sorry."

Casey sighed, reading the motion. Back to earth. "OK, Calhoun. See you later," she said, as good as shooing the lawyer from her office. They shared a quick hug before Rita left.

"Hey, Casey, if it matters, I think you should talk to her," Rita said as she left.

"I'll keep that in mind."

---

" I will," Alex said, "I have, kind of. Mostly to point out all the reasons it wouldn't work."

Serena considered. "What about all the reasons it would? I mean, you all get along well, your friends like her, it seems like it could be perfect, if you and Casey are on the same page?"

"The stakes are too high," said Alex, "what if she's not into us? What if it gets us in trouble at work, what would happen if we broke up with her? Or what if it breaks me and Casey up?" The last question she raised genuinely shook her up, Serena could tell.

"Those things are all bad, for sure," Serena replied. "I guess the question would be, is it scarier to find out or to never know?"

"I'm not sure. Hell, she probably wouldn't be into either of us, I mean, I'm 15 years older than her and we both have all kinds of baggage, it's kind of part of why we work; and she certainly must get lots of attention, I mean, she's beautiful," Alex stopped talking abruptly as she saw Serena's laughter. "What's funny?"

"Nothing," said Serena, "it's just that I haven't seen you this nervous about anybody besides Casey.

---

"What are you going to do about it?" Ramin asked you once the dramatics had passed.

"I mean," you said, "nothing? What is there to do about it? I can't pursue them, not without losing my job, so I'm going to have to just get over it."

"Or you could seduce them. Make use of your feminine wiles."

You rolled your eyes.

"Flirt," Ramin said, clarifying.

"Can one use their feminine wiles if all parties are women? I mean, aren't they just wiles?" You asked him.

"I don't know, you should find out," he said. Before you could get angry, he continued, "seriously. You should flirt with them, so they either know you're interested and they go for it, or they get too overwhelmed by how amazing you are and go for it in spite of themselves."

You looked at him. "Damn, Ram. For a guy who's only had three partners you really have some ideas about strategy."

He shrugged. "The worst that can happen is they don't respond to you, and then you know. Obviously, keep it appropriate and flirt with them both so it doesn't seem like you're trying to be a homewrecker."

"Maybe," you said, thinking.

---

#casey novak #alex cabot #calex #calex x reader #alex cabot x reader #casey novak x reader #svu fanfiction #svu fanfic #svu #fluff!! rita calhoun! #rita calhoun #serena southerlyn

[lifeofkaze]

When Stars Ignite - Chapter 5

HPHM Rockstar AU

A/N:

General Warning: This whole fic has a general warning of being NSFW / 18+. We will give specific warnings for every chapter in itself, but several adult themes will be more or less present in every chapter, may it be explicitly or in mention. These include sexual topics, drug abuse, (ab)use of alcohol, smoking and a whole lot of cursing.

Specific Warning: Language, reference to smoking (cigarettes), allusions to NSFW topics

~~~

Find the masterpost here, the previous chapter here and the next one here. The songs featured before every chapter can be found on this pretty badass playlist here.

~~~

This work is a collaboration with @the-al-chemist

Taglist: @slytherindisaster @carewyncromwell @night-rhea

Gettin' sold, second hand

That's how it goes, playin' in a band

It's a long way to the top if you wanna rock 'n' roll

~ AC/DC - It’s A Long Way to the Top ~

Halfway through their first week back on tour, their time in London was slowly drawing to an end. Lizzie couldn’t quite believe how fast the days seemed to fly by, each one a blur of tiredness, boredom and the addictive rush of adrenaline when they were on stage. Every day and night was like the one before and totally different all at once.

It felt like only yesterday that she had stepped from the plane back from America; at the same time, being surrounded by all the familiar faces and living in long established routines, her break from the hustle and bustle already seemed like an eternity away. Lizzie could still feel the last traces of jetlag wearing her down sometimes, but at least her shifted rhythm helped her stay energised during the shows; not that she was getting much sleep afterwards either.

Wrecked from her chronic lack of sleep, Lizzie had missed her alarm this morning. When she arrived at the largest dressing room of the O2 Arena, she found the rest of the band already assembled.

Merula and Everett were sitting at the huge table in the middle of the room, Everett scrolling through his social media accounts while Merula was painting her nails in a dark violet colour. Skye was slumped onto one of the sofas at the back of the room, a magazine spread across her lap. She looked up from the colourful pages as she saw Lizzie enter.

“About time you’re showing Jameson; thought you’d gotten lost somewhere. Where’ve you been?”

Lizzie sat down on the arm of the sofa Orion was sitting on; he lifted his head briefly and smiled before bending over his notebook again. Lizzie tried catching a glimpse of the lyrics he was scribbling down but he covered them with his hand. With a shrug, Lizzie turned her attention to Skye.

“I overslept and then ran into Charlie. Murphy and KC are gone somewhere, ‘having a meeting’ apparently.”

“That’s what they’re calling it these days,” Merula muttered under her breath, making Skye snort with laughter.

“Anyway,” Lizzie chuckled, “they’re not here to show the new pyro girl around. They left the job to Charlie, but apparently she’s late and no one knows how to reach her. He’s a little grumpy about it.” She furrowed her brow in concern. “I hope that doesn’t make for a bad start. Charlie had better behave, from what KC told me the newbie is promising.”

“A female pyro tech, just when I thought I’d seen it all,” Everett scoffed. “I mean, how good can she even be?”

Merula arched an eyebrow at him, her eyes sparkling dangerously. “You have a problem with a woman on the job, or what?”

Everett blatantly ignored her, however. “Hopefully we’ll have something to look at this time, right Orion?”

Orion was trying not to roll his eyes. “What we portray on the outside pales in comparison to what we carry in our hearts; as long as she’s a good person who is sure of what she’s doing, nothing can go wrong.”

“Getting along with Charlie would help, too,” Lizzie added.

A grin tugged at Orion’s lips. “It would indeed.”

Everett looked at him sceptically and shook his head. “Listen to you, as if you didn’t care about looks as well.”

Now Orion finally looked up from his notebook for good and frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Stop acting all innocent, everyone knows you’re getting your fair share of groupies as well,” Everett laughed, obviously finding the thought of someone preferring Orion to him hilarious. “Hotel room walls aren’t the thickest, you know.”

Lizzie almost choked on the bottle of water she had helped herself to. She was trying her hardest not to blush as her eyes flickered to Orion. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments before she busied herself with the lid of her bottle, hopefully looking more innocent than she felt. She could tell by the way Orion was trying to keep a straight face that Everett’s remark came just as surprising to him as it did to her.

Clearing his throat, Orion replied levelly “I have no idea what you’re talking about. It’s a wonder you’re able to hear anything over the racket you’re making most nights.”

Everett shrugged. “At least I’m open about it.”

“As much as I hate to say it, but Ev has a point,” Skye chimed in all of a sudden. She was waving her magazine through the air. “According to the Daily Mail, you’ve had at least six affairs ever since we’ve been to Spain. They mark you down as quite the casanova.” Same as Everett before, the thought seemed to amuse her to no end.

Merula rolled her eyes at Skye. “Why are you even reading that shit?”

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,” Skye shrugged. “And it’s fucking hilarious.”

Meanwhile, Lizzie had regained her composure. “Well, don’t keep us on the rack. What’s the latest news?”

Skye cleared her throat before scanning the pages. “After things got frosty between us in Poland, Lizzie and I have apparently decided on an open relationship. Good for us,” she looked up and blew her friend a kiss, which made Lizzie giggle. “They’re still taking bets when Merula is going to come out of the closet -”

“What is this bullshit with me being gay all the time,” Merula snarled.

“You just give that vibe, I know what I’m talking about,” Skye shrugged indifferently before carrying on. “We already had Orion being a ladies’ man and Ev… “

Skye trailed off as she read the paragraph again and looked up after she had finished. “There are pictures of you with Rita Skeeter in here, what’s that about?”

“None of your business,” Everett answered brusquely.

Lizzie saw Skye’s face darken at his tone and quickly snatched the magazine out of Skye’s hands. Just as anticipated, Skye’s attention immediately went to her as she tried to get it back.

The potential fight being dissolved before it had begun, the mood was gradually calming down again. It was an almost relaxed atmosphere in the dressing room, when the door opened and Ethan walked in. He looked very tense and as the door fell shut behind him with a bang, the muscles around his mouth were tight. He exhaled slowly, his hands running over his lessening brown hair.

Skye was disconcerted to see her father looking so unusually stressed. “Dad, what’s wrong?”

He held up a hand to silence her before producing a crumpled package of cigarettes from his pocket. Flicking his silver lighter open, he held the flame to one of them. “I’ll explain in a minute.”

“You do realise that there’s smoke detectors in here?” Lizzie pointed out apprehensively. “I don’t know about you but I don’t care much about getting soaked.”

Ethan took the glowing cigarette out of his mouth again and put it out against the nearest table. “Fucking rules,” he muttered. “Nobody gave a shit back in my days.”

Orion looked up from his notebook, his dark eyes unreadable as they took in Ethan’s nervous demeanour. “It’s clear to see that you’re agitated, but a pain is shared is a pain halved. What’s the matter?”

Ethan sighed, wistfully closing the packet of cigarettes before stowing it away in his pocket. “I had a few calls back and forth with the label over the last few days.”

“So?” Skye urged him on.

“They’re not particularly impressed with what the press is writing about you at the moment. They’re considering cutting the budget for the next album by half.”

His words went down like a lead balloon in the silence spreading throughout the room; no one could believe what they were hearing.

“Why the fuck would they do that?” Skye finally managed to croak out. “The next album was going to be our biggest production so far.”

“Why are they even thinking about it?” Lizzie agreed. “We’re playing to a full house every night. We’re doing a great job, if I may say so, and the reviews have all been really positive so far. The press has been good.”

But Ethan shook his head. “No, Lizzie, the press hasn’t been good at all. People don’t care about professional reviews in respectable magazines anymore. Everything the public sees is what’s written in those goddamn tabloids.” He was eyeing Skye’s copy of the Daily Mail with a grim face. “And they’re having a field day with you; have been for a while now.”

His look darkened further as his gaze swept the round of musicians assembled in front of him, resting particularly long on Everett, who didn’t budge in the slightest.

“Some of you are taking this whole ‘rockstar’ lifestyle too seriously. What was fun and games in my time doesn’t work today anymore. I’ve been told that the label had to fork out a good amount of money to get some positive stories about you out, counter the negative attention you’ve been getting.”

His words were met with icy silence, none of them feeling personally addressed by Ehtan’s barely hidden accusation.

“Listen,” he continued more placatory, “I know sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll are all fun to do, I’ve been there myself. But these days, people aren’t as easy about diva behaviour and trashed hotel rooms.”

Again, he was giving Everett a hard stare. “Cleaning up behind you costs the label hard cash. Cash they’re now cutting from the production budget.”

“That is very unfortunate to hear,” Orion spoke into the ensuing silence. “Is there anything we can do to make them reconsider their actions?”

Ethan’s face lit up with enthusiasm. “Good that you’re asking! I already designed a battle plan for us, we won’t have them compromise our work that easily.”

He placed both of his hands on the table where Merula and Everett were sitting, tapping the smooth surface with his fingers. “I’m thinking about going all out on the charm offensive. We’re going to be doing more interviews, more meet ‘n’ greets, fan events, charity bullshit, more of everything. You name it, we’re going to do it. We have to show the public you’re not some off-hook dickheads but still the old friends with a fucking heart of gold like you were when Equinox started.”

Merula snorted derisively. “Nice thought, but I doubt that will impress the guys from the label. You said it yourself, they’re all about the money, they don’t care about this sentimental bullshit.”

“You’re right,” Ethan said, “that’s why I struck a deal with them.”

The way he was avoiding Orion’s eyes was boding ill on Lizzie. And sure enough, Orion’s shoulders were tense as he spoke, his voice noticeably cooler than before. “What kind of deal?”

“They want to know if your new material is worth the huge investment. We need to prove that we’re still the best horse in their stable and they should place their bets on us instead of the new blood they recently signed, like that Winger guy.”

He ran his hand over his dark goatee as he met Orion’s eyes. “Some representatives are going to come to one of the shows in Manchester, see whether what you’re doing is still good enough for their full support.”

He raised his chin in a commanding gesture as he continued. “And they want to see how the crowd reacts to the new songs.”

Lizzie involuntarily held her breath. Orion was particular about his music; Ethan could have just as well asked him to set down his guitar and never touch it again.

And sure enough, his answer to Ethan’s proposition was simple. “No.”

But Ethan wasn’t about to acknowledge defeat so easily. “Yes. If we give the crowd and accordingly the label a taste of what’s to come, they’re going to see that we only deserve the best of the best once we’re ready to hit the studio again.”

Orion, however, remained unimpressed. “No.”

Ethan blinked, clearly irritated at the refusal to cooperate. “Why not?”

“None of the songs are ready to be shared. You don’t serve your guests a half-cooked meal and neither do you hang a picture missing its colours on the wall.”

His eyes narrowed as he looked Ethan straight in the face, the look in his eyes unwavering. “I won’t have my unfinished work being sold for profit; that’s not what this is about.”

Ethan glared at Orion, but instead of a sharp remark from his side, Everett spoke up. “We could play my stuff.”

Clearly surprised at the unexpected offer, Ethan turned his attention to the singer of the band. “You got songs of your own?”

Everett shrugged nonchalantly. “Sure I do. Just promise me they’ll be featured on the album and they’re all yours.”

Hesitant about giving Everett the confirmation he was asking for, Ethan focused on Orion again. “‘No’ is your last word?”

Lizzie had heard some of Everett’s songs before. They weren’t bad by all means, but they were lacking the finesse Orion’s music brought with it. She knew Ethan would take whatever he was offered, but that wouldn’t be in the band’s best interests.

“I know you're protective of your work,” she told Orion quietly, giving him an encouraging smile, “but you showed me what you’ve written so far, and some of the songs are almost there. They’re the best you’ve ever done, believe me. Everyone’s going to love them.”

Orion held her gaze for a moment, searching for the affirmation he needed to agree to a deal he didn’t want to make, but knew he had to in the end.

When he finally tore his eyes away from hers, he looked at Ethan and sighed. “Fine, have my songs. Under one condition,” he added, nipping Ethan’s victorious grin in the bud. “Until I’m completely satisfied with them, I’m going to sing them.”

“Excuse me?” Everett bristled up, “Am I the singer of this band or you? Get out of my fucking spotlight.”

Orion shook his head. “You misunderstand; I’m not trying to fight you for your place in the sun, my friend. But I wouldn’t know how to explain to you what I want the songs to sound like until they’re really finished.”

Ethan snorted. “Stop being a diva, Orion.”

But Orion was adamant in his resolve. “I’m not. All I want is for the people caring about our music to get what they deserve; and they don’t deserve some unfinished songs that aren’t even played the way they’re supposed to be.”

Both Ethan and Orion were staring at each other for a moment longer, before Ethan threw his hands up in exasperation. “Fine, have it your way then.”

Not believing what he was hearing, Everett stood up from his seat. His aggressive energy seemed to fill the room, making it feel a lot smaller than it actually was.

“Are you for real?” he snarled at Ethan. “I’m the frontman of this band, not him! It’s bad enough that his songs are the only ones that get played when mine are easily as good.”

He turned to Orion, eyes sparkling with anger. Lizzie, who was still sitting next to him, tried not to shrink back before him, but Orion met his gaze as calmly as ever. However, this seemed to anger Everett even further.

“You always said you didn’t want to sing, you were perfectly happy with doing background vocals if you had to. Why now all of a sudden? Tell you why, you’re not happy there’s someone else who knows how to write a decent song in this band. Do you consider me a threat to you or what?”

Everett’s voice had risen considerably. Skye and Lizzie were sharing a worried glance as the two male members of their band were glaring at each other, Merula just looking to and fro between them with a bored expression.

Not wanting things to go south even more than they already were, Ethan stepped between Orion and Everett to break their eye contact. “Ev, calm down. There’s no need -”

He was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. Taken by surprise, it took Ethan several attempts to make the strain disappear from his voice. He cleared his throat one more time before calling to whoever was waiting on the other side of the door.

“Come in.”

#hphm #harry potter hogwarts mystery #hphm au #rockstar au #orion amari #skye parkin #merula snye #lizzie jameson #when stars ignite #besties collaborate

[beetlegoose01]

Frostbite Chapter 4- Broken Promises

AN: Happy Friday everyone! I hope you all enjoy Chapter 4. :D

Previous Chapter: https://pepperimps01.tumblr.com/post/646112113682710528/frostbite-recovery-chapter-3

Summary: Casey and Donnie struggle with their feelings. Leo reunites with the new mutant, and finds more info about them.

~~~

Casey grunted and grumbled as he wandered downstairs, still in his pajamas. Predictably dad wasn't in the kitchen, so he fixed himself and Riley a bowl of cornflakes. Dad was rarely ever at home, usually cruising through different bars to stay occupied, so Casey had to step up.  He wasn't really a cook, not that he would have time to make a meal.

"Riley, breakfast!" He hollered, running his hand through his messy curls.

The chipper girl skipped down the steps two at a time. She plopped down, inhaling her cornflakes like she hadn't eaten in days. She was already dressed in a blouse and skirt, the uniform required at her middle school.

Casey joined her, eating his cereal a bit slower as he fixed his hair. Not that he cared too much about his appearance.

"You know a comb would be more effective." Riley teased, mouthful of milk and cereal. "Something really weird happened last night. I almost thought it was a dream but it couldn't be."

Casey raised an eyebrow.

"I ordered food from Murakami's. I was so hungry, you know."  She continued. "And I walked home with my noodles and these assholes started attacking me."

Casey dropped his spoon so loudly it made a clanging noise. "What? Did they hurt you?"

She scoffed. "No, that's the best part. Sure, I was holding my own, but this guy with his sick karate moves saved me! And Sparky too! My pet racoon."

He wanted to tell her that a raccoon didn't qualify as a pet, and heck, he didn't even see the little rodent, but he was too concerned about his sister's wellbeing. "You're lying. You just did your homework last night."

"Except you know I never do my homework." Riley said snarkily. "No...he was really nice. Actually he was a bit strange. Donatello was his name." She perked up. "You wouldn't believe what he-"

"Shut up Ri, stop talking nonsense." Casey rolled his eyes. "Get ready for school. April's walkin' with us today."

"But he-"

"Riley!"

Riley frowned, slumping over, but complying as she grabbed her backpack moodily.

He chewed at his lip. He knew he was being a total jerk, but he also wanted his sister to just be lying. She was known to tell tales but he hated being so dismissive. He'd have to ask later.

After getting dressed and actually combing through his hair, he heard a knock at the door.

"I'll get it!" Riley shouted, clumsily leaping over a bookbag, nearly crashing into the wall as she ran towards the front door. "Hi April!"

"Hiya Riley," The redhead said. "You guys ready to go?"

"I am. Yo Casey, are you?"

"Yep." He grabbed his bag.

"Let's go then."

The trio headed out the door, Riley chattering mindlessly about something.

"I'm gonna stay late today." She said. "Baseball practice."

"Baseball?" April looked at her quizzically. "I thought you played hockey."

"I play both. Duh." Riley rolled her eyes, avoiding a crack in the sidewalk. "I'm the best player on the team, even though I'm the only girl. Hockey..." She cringed. "I prefer to watch, I think." She stopped, crouching down to watch a raccoon scurry through some trash.

"Come on Riley, we're gonna be late." Casey said.

"But he's so cute." Riley cooed. "I missed you Sparky!"

"How do you even know that's the same possum?"

"Racoon. And I just know." She scratched his furry head. The creature's big black eyes widened, accepting the pets happily.

"Ugh, no, he could have diseases or rabies or something-" Casey grabbed her by the backpack straps and pulled her away. Ignoring his sister's struggles, he looked at April: "Did you do Ms. Thompson's homework?"

"Yes, last night." She hummed, glancing back at him. "No, you can't copy it."

"Damn. Can you help me with it?"

April chuckled. "Sure thing."

"You're the best, Red."

She smiled, taking his hand in hers. "I've missed you, Casey."

"I've missed you too."

"Guys!" Riley interrupted. "Stop ogling and take me to school already!"

They blushed, April easily slipping her hand back in her pocket as if nothing had happened between them.

Thankfully, her school was just around the corner, giving him and April plenty of time to talk on their way to the high school.

"So...Red," Casey said, fixing his hair self consciously. "There's a new Beetlewoman movie comin' out on Friday."

April nodded. "There is."

"I heard it's even better than the last one."

She hummed. "I heard that too."

"Do you wanna go with me?"

"Are you asking me on a date?" She asked bluntly.

"That depends, are you gonna say yes?"

April stared at him for a moment, contemplating her answer carefully.

"It's a no, isn't it?" He sighed, defeated. "I could have sworn this would be the day."

"Jones," She said firmly. "Casey, you know I like you a lot."

"I have an annoying feeling that there's gonna be a 'but' somewhere..."

"But, I need to focus on myself right now. Dating is just another thing to worry about. My life is crazy enough." She laughed weakly. "You do know I like you and Donnie, right?"

Casey made a face. "What does this have to do with Donnie?"

"Everything." She looked away wistfully. "You'll figure it out eventually."

"Whatever you say, Red. Come on, the bell's about to ring."

~•~

Peace and quiet was all Donatello craved. The brief moments of silence he received when working on a project were always savored. Even as a curious little tot, he loved blissful quiet. Which was difficult when living in the same sewers as three other rambunctious turtles- but he made do.

Hunched over his desk, he carefully followed the instructions written down. Deja vu was a common occurrence now, and it certainly didn't help with the gelatinous blob form of Timothy watching him work.

"Don't worry Tim," He said through a yawn. "I won't rest until you're cured, buddy."

The floating eyeballs blinked back at him. Looking at him too long was sure to make anyone squeamish, but Donnie could only feel guilt and pity.

"Nothing will stop me from-"

"Yo D!"

Donnie massaged his temples, recognizing the voice immediately. For once, he wished it was Mikey who had interrupted his work.

"Don't you have school?"

"What are you, my mom?" Casey scoffed. "Nah, school's out." He flopped onto the lab table, sitting directly on Donnie's notes.

"What do you want now, Jones?"  He still couldn't forget his brother's teasing, and he wasn't looking forward to dealing with his own feelings. If they caught him talking with Jones, there was no doubt they would make fun of him.

"Oh, nothing." Casey took a seat on the table. "Check it." He slid a disc towards Donnie, who examined it. He couldn't believe what he was looking at- and that it was real.

"No. Way." He breathed. "The Electric Skullz's Dynamite album?"  He had to bite his tongue in order to prevent himself from squealing.

Casey grinned. "You know it." He placed his hands in his lap, thinking. "I figured we could...listen to it sometime. Together! Since we both like it." He paused, scrunching his face. "Stupid idea, probably."

Donnie's features softened. This kid...he did something nice for him. He didn't have to, but he did. And Donnie was touched. But also midly infuriated. How dare Jones make it so difficult to hate him?

"It's not stupid.. That's what friends do, don't they? Listen to music together?"

Friends...it sounded weird out loud. Not that either teen disliked it.

Casey raised an eyebrow. "Wait...we're friends?"

Donnie shrugged. "I don't know. But arguing is exhausting. And you had a point. We both love this band, so why not?"

"Sounds good to me."

Donnie eagerly popped the disc into his homemade music player, turning the volume up. Timothy pitifully stared through the glass container, as if he wanted to jam too.

"Listen Don, I meant to, well," He rubbed the back of his neck. "Talk to you as well."

Donnie stopped the music abruptly. He glanced at Casey, who looked uncomfortable. "Yeah?"

"Oh- er- uh." This was proving to be more difficult as he stared at the tall turtle's mahogany brown eyes. "I don't hate you."

"Thank...you?"

"No, wait. I feel like we got off on the wrong foot. Ever since we've met. But I don't want to fight anymore. I like talking to you about music. You're kinda cool."

Donnie didn't say anything.

"Red doesn't want us to fight. And if you do care about her like I know you do, then you'd respect what she wants. Right?"

"Yes, I agree. The trouble is..." Donnie looked down guiltily. "I don't know what I feel. About us." He gestured at himself, then at Casey.

"You don't have any answers?"

"No. For once, I don't."

Casey exhaled. "I don't either."

Donnie hummed, waiting for anything to ease the awkwardness. Before he had a chance to return to his work, Casey spoke up again. 

"My sister said something weird." He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably.

"Oh?"

"She said some guy named Donatello saved her from some creeps. Is that true? Or was she just makin' stuff up?"

Donnie paused, a small smile revealing. He looked as if he was debating if he should tell Casey or not. "She wasn't. I did, though I didn't know she was your sister at the time." Donnie replied honestly. "Riley, right?"

"She didn't mention you were a turtle though." He joked.

"She didn't seem to mind."

"Guess those things don't really matter, huh? It's all about...what's in there." He patted Donnie's scratched up plasteron. Brown eyes met darker brown, and he backed up slowly, unsure if he should move closer. "Sorry. But thanks for helping her. She means everything to me. I'm sure you know how that feels."

Donnie's breath was caught in his throat. He gulped.  "I...of course."

"Oh shoot." Casey checked his phone as if nothing had happened. "Sorry dude, I promised Raph I'd ride bikes with him. Catch ya later?"

"Yeah!" His voice cracked. "I'd love that."

As Casey left with a cheeky grin and wave, Donnie felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.

He glanced at the jar of guts that once resembled another teenaged boy. "Tim, I think I'm in trouble."

~•~

That sinking feeling in his stomach didn't leave even hours later. Donnie had tried to push it off, move forward and continue like normal. It wasn't even a big deal. He saved Casey's sister, and that was that. He would have saved any other human just the same. Then why did he feel so weird? He wouldn't lie, he wondered how Casey would react if he knew. Would he be proud of him? Maybe their friendship could expand and their infamous rivalry could finally end.

They had more in common than either boy had realized. They enjoyed the same music and food at least, and according to 'bro code' that's all one needed in a friendship. They did have fun bonding over the Electric Skullz...

But then there was April. She clearly didn't seem enthusiastic in dating either of them. Donnie's pursuit of the beautiful redhead seemed to lose interest as time went on. Each look she gave him was not one of admiration, but of pity. He still liked her a lot though.

'I don't have a chance with her.'

Did Casey? Casey had the added benefit of being human. But he was also charming, handsome, had curious chocolate brown eyes and...and...

A really cute smile with little dimples on each cheek. And confidence to boot, something Donnie had always secretly admired.

Donnie rolled over in back, staring at the wall. What was he even saying? Casey wasn't...he didn't.

'Don't think that. You're not gay. You like April. You like April. You like April.'

He heard Raphael's voice in his mind. 'Who are you even trying to convince? Me, or yourself?'

Who was he trying to convince?

He slid out of bed as quietly as possible. He wasn't going to get any sleep at this rate.  Might as well work on the retromutagen and get his mind off Casey for once.  And it would be less of a time waster than staring at the ceiling and tossing and turning.

'Casey's still human, you know.' The little voice reminded him as he stepped out of his room, blinking blearily. 'You've got the same chance of impressing him as you do April.'

"I know." He muttered under his breath, this time aloud. "I don't like him like that. He's just a friend. I think?"

If he was human, he wouldn't have this problem. Maybe he could have dated them both. Though even for humans that was considered taboo.

He shook his head, glancing at the lab clock. 3:32am. No point in going back to sleep. His laptop had been left open too from a few hours ago. He sighed, typing into his old friend Google what exactly his feelings were.

Article after article, the only sound being the ticking clock, he found his answer. But not in the way he expected.

What is...bisexuality?

Hamato Donatello knew a lot of things. But one thing he was always going to struggle with- was romance. The best course of action was to simply avoid these emotions and put them off until he couldn't take it anymore.. Little did he know, he wasn't the only turtle struggling. His hand stopped moving the mouse, hearing shuffling noises from outside. He came to recognize each individual footsteps his brothers and father made. Mikey usually had a bounce in his step, Raph dragged his feet or stomped about. Splinter's paws were very quiet and had his tail dragging behind him. But these steps were nearly silent, as if he was standing on his tip toes, eager to not wake the remaining members of his family.

"Leo?" He uttered, careful to keep his voice low. He didn't need to turn around, he knew exactly who it was.

But when he saw the distraught, bloodshot eyes of his oldest brother, he moved closer. Leo flinched.

"Leo?" He repeated. "Why are you awake?"

"I couldn't sleep." His voice sounded hoarse. "And you?"

"Same as you, I guess." Donnie quickly slammed his laptop shut. "You look exhausted."

"I can't stop thinking about her." Leo murmured, nearly inaudible.

"Her?" Donnie stared blankly, wondering if Leo was sleepwalking and somehow stumbled inside the lab. "Karai?"

He shook his head. "Sorry, I'm talking nonsense aren't I?"

"A little bit, yeah."

Leo chuckled softly, then turned somber. "I was thinking about the mutant. I'm worried. I mean, she could cause some serious destruction."

Donnie's eyes widened in realization. "You were going to try to find it...her, weren't you? That's why you're wandering around at 4am."

Leo didn't answer. He didn't have to. His eyes told Donnie everything.

"You're dead on your feet. You definitely shouldn't go searching for a deranged mutant when you can barely stand. And alone, of all the crazy things. Come on, Leo, let's go back to sleep."

Surprisingly, Leonardo agreed, as if Donnie was the older sibling and not the other way around. "You're right. I don't know what I was thinking. But you should sleep too."

Donnie relaxed, grateful that there wasn't an argument involved. "I think I will."

"I'll walk with you to your room."

"And you promise you'll go to bed?"

"I promise." Leo vowed, leading the way back to their individual rooms.

Donnie slipped inside his room, practically melting into his bed, exhausted. His eyes fluttered close.

"Oyasumi." His brother whispered.

"Hai, oyasumi." He mumbled under the blankets, instantly comforted.

"See you in the morning, brother." Leo tucked him in gently. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

And for the first time in his life, Leo had broken a promise to his brother.

~•~

The moonlight glowed over the cityscape. Leo tumbled to the ground of the rooftops, checking the area, knowingly being followed. He wasn't afraid, but he knew he had to keep alert. This enemy was unknown, and if he made one false error, he couldn't rely on his brothers for help. Each sense perked up anxiously, waiting for any sign of attack.

Another movement came from behind. He stopped abruptly, skidding to a halt.

"Show yourself." He commanded, one katana raised high, its brother still in its holder.

"Oh, but that would make things less fun..."

Leonardo turned around fiercely. "Every moment you hide in the shadows you only prove your cowardice."

"Cowardice? We'll see about that. You're the one who's afraid."

"I'm not afraid." He said defiantly.

"You soon will be..."

And then it crawled forward. Slowly, claws stepped towards him, revealing the hidden mutant reptile that resembled a crocodile. Her voice, though menacing, still had a feminine tone that made his heart race. Her body was a beautiful emerald green, with piercing gold eyes and cream undertones. She flicked her long, thick tail back, fangs curling into a sinister smirk. Though she was bigger than he was, he wasn't about to show any sign of fear. She then circled him like a predator with her prey. Though he had dealt with much deadlier villains, he still felt uneasy. 

"Miss me?" She snarled. "It's been a while."

Leo narrowed his eyes. He recognized her of course, though they had never spoken. Their last fight had ended less than pleasant. Both he and Mikey had to make a hasty retreat. Leo had regretted it ever since.

"I don't think I ever caught your name." He growled. "If you have one."

"I didn't throw it." She said, then relented. "Nova."

"What are you?"

She licked her lips. "The last thing you see before you die. The banter was cute, sugar, but I'm hungry. That's all I need."

Beyond her wild eyes was a look of fear, and true hunger. She wasn't lying, she looked as though she hadn't eaten in days.

"Nova please. I'm- I'm Leonardo."

She pounced forward, pinning the turtle to the ground. "So long, Leonardo."

"I don't want to hurt you." He wheezed.

"What a shame, because I so want to hurt you. Your pathetic attempt at kindness only shows how weak you truly are."

"Nova..."

With his free leg, Leo kicked his shin upwards to hit her underbelly. She yelped, falling backwards. Her malnourishment was proof she needed help. But clearly she didn't want any.

"So much for not hurting me." She spat, acid leaving her lips and barely avoiding Leo's toes as he lept away. When she moved closer towards him, he softened slightly. He avoided staring at her shark like teeth.

He held out a hand. "I meant what I said. I can help you. Food, shelter, a chance to be with other mutants. I don't want to fight you."

For a brief moment, she looked as if she was going to comply, even eagerly with his convincing tone. Her muzzle grazed his cheek, vulnerability clear in her gold eyes. Then she turned away viciously, reconsidering.

"I don't want anything to do with you, Leonardo. Any hope of happiness is finished., My humanity is gone. I'm a freak, like you." She spat. "I had everything. Fame, fortune, my beauty..." Her claws extended. "All of it is gone."

He shook his head. "No it isn't. There is still hope. I promise, I'll help you."

She rolled her eye slits. "How very noble of you." Her tongue slid out, resembling two separated spiky parts.

"It's not just about being noble. It's about doing what's right." Leo held out his hand once more, echoing the wisdom of Captain Ryan. "Are you willing, Nova?"

"I..."

Snapping her jaws back, she raised a claw to swipe at him. He flinched, waiting for a swift but agonizing feeling. But nothing happened. She had moved away. He didn't even need to draw his swords.

"That's your answer. See you soon...sugar." She hissed, disappearing into the shadows once more.

"Wait!" He cried. But she was gone.

#tmnt 2012 #teenage muant ninja turtles #jonatello #fanfics #ot3 #capril #apriltello #casey jones #donatello #april o neil

[helenared]

My firts history

This is my first fic from this couple Goku and Chichi and I hope you like it, it was inspired by a beautiful fanart of the wonderful Gokuist or Fungushi

And that story would not be published if it weren't for a great sonchichisquad friend! Thank you beautiful❤

Farewell

That’s why he didn't like saying goodbye. If there was ever a time when Son Goku didn't say goodbye to his loved ones, he had his reasons:

Firstly, he simply hated being the cause of the overflowing emotion in his family and friends’ eyes, and even in his own. That would mean admitting his weaknesses and his pride would never allow it. And secondly, If he didn't say goodbye to his family and friends, it was simply because somehow he felt he’d come back and see them again. 

There wasn’t really a particular moment of Goku saying goodbye to the people he loved -not emotionally, at least that we know of.

One example is when he left on Nimbus when he was a child -he left, just like that, to seek new adventures. A few years later, he left again -this time with Chi-Chi by his side to start their lives together. He also fled the hospital after his brutal battle against Vegeta to get to Namek and help Gohan and the rest. He didn’t say a proper goodbye to anyone, not even his own wife - it was more like a "See you soon!" Or "See you around!”, but never a final greeting. The same happened when he stayed in Yardrat, when he decided to stay in the afterlife after the battle against Cell and even when he left to train Uub.

It had always been like that. However, even if he had never been really attached to anyone, now, after having reached a certain level of maturity, Goku was trying to assimilate the fact that he had bid everyone his final farewell. 

It was harsh. He wasn’t allowed to speak to his children and friends. All he could do was watch them from above as they went on with their happy lives. But maybe it was for the best.

Gohan looked very focused as he wrote who knows what in a notebook. The last rays of sunlight were streaming through his large window as he sat peacefully inside his home office. The curtains swung as if the wind was blowing through them, but it was actually Goku. He was watching his son with a twinkle in his eye. Gohan was so smart and kind. He had always been proud of him.

Goku then saw Videl and Pan entering the room and interacting with his son. 

"Hey honey, why don't you take a break? You’ve been on that report for two hours" Videl said from behind her husband, placing her hands affectionately on his shoulders. 

"Yeah Dad, let's go have a picnic in the garden, it’s such a beautiful day outside!" Pan added excitedly, leaning over the desk, closer to her father.

Goku smiled as he watched them. The family he had built was close and loving, no matter how many obstacles they had to overcome. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Goodbye son"

Gohan would always be in good hands. And then, he disappeared.

"You’re right, it's time to relax with my two favorite people in the world and-" Gohan silenced himself as the feeling of something familiar rushed through him. He couldn’t explain what it was. It was like a warm comforting breeze that he only felt when "When my father was around ..." he completed his own thought out loud. 

His wife and daughter had no idea what he was talking about. He simply shook his head and followed the two of them so that they could spend time together as a family, unaware that he would never feel his father's energy again.

***

Goku laughed in amusement when he saw Goten and Trunks, such two great boys, training together in the garden of Capsule Corporation. Vegeta was watching them from a distance and next to him was Bulma sitting by a table with Bra.

For some reason unbeknownst to her, Bulma was holding the dragon's radar today, thinking back to the day when she met one of her best friends. She smiled wistfully. If it weren't for Goku, she probably wouldn't be where she was today.

"What the-" Vegeta whispered, suddenly uncrossing his arms, and at that very moment Goten received a mighty punch from Trunks. Goku's youngest son froze in his tracks, sitting down on the floor as if he hadn’t felt the punch at all. 

"I’ll always be thinking of you guys, especially you... my son" Goku smiled as he looked at them. Everyone there had touched his life in a monumental way.  If it weren't for Bulma, he wouldn't even know what a girl is, and she was the one who opened the initial gate into a world of discoveries.

Goten certainly made him a happier man than he already was. Becoming a father the second time was incredible, and felt just as amazing as the first time. His youngest was the living depiction of a sun rising after a storm, and he now knew that his children represented a more perfect version of him, a human version that embraced his sayajin side with tenderness.

The only thing that Vegeta had taught him was to discover and accept who he was. An alien, or to be more specific, a saiyan. It took Goku a long time to accept his roots, but seeing how much Vegeta had changed since he arrived on Earth, he could now recall the exact moment when he accepted "Kakarotto" into his life.

And with that last thought in his mind, he disappeared. And the grass started to sway from side to side, a light breeze making it dance. The people in the garden of Capsule Corporation's were left very surprised as a warm and soft sensation swam through them. 

After he recovered, Goten got up and stood into his fighting stance with a very familiar and challenging smile. "It won't be that easy to beat me, Trunks! Now hurry up! Come at me!"

Trunks smiled at his best friend. "Oh, that's what you think!" 

And both continued with their training.

Vegeta watched the boys with an arrogant smile on his lips, folding his arms across his chest again. Bulma was stunned and looked thoughtful, and her daughter didn’t understand what was going on.

***

Goku watched from the glass window into Krillin’s house. The bald man was going through a photo album with his daughter. She had grown up so much.

Eighteen was drinking a cup of coffee, sitting in the armchair next to her daughter and husband, watching them lovingly. 

"Yeah, Goku was different from any other person or being that I had ever come across in the universe. If Master Roshi were alive, he’d probably agree with me. He had a way of bringing us closer together. We went from enemies to friends and we are what we are today thanks to him. Together for life"

Goku felt really touched by this, smiling at them affectionately. Krillin had always been a very important person in his life. His first and closest friend. The most faithful of all.

"Krillin..."

And then he left.

Krillin had no idea what that emotion inside him was. Happiness? Nostalgia? Maybe. All he knew was that it wasn’t something he felt all the time. It was nice and warm. "Goku, you are my best friend"

***

Son Goku flew across the Earth, passing through all the places that were part of his journey.

Kami-Sama Dende, sharper than ever, felt his fleeting presence like a shooting star, along with Mr Popo, who placed a hand on his shoulder. 

"Son Goku will always be remembered for his incredible life on Earth and his great deeds, isn't that right, Mr. Popo?" And his guardian and master simply nodded. When facts are spoken, there are no valid arguments.

Uub, who was meditating, felt Goku too, and he thanked his master mentally for everything he had taught him. 

Yamcha and Tenshinhan, who were on the fighters' planet, sensed Goku's presence and nodded to each other, and so did Chiaotzu and Puar.

Piccolo just looked up with his arms crossed and smiled. "Goku..."

The Sayajin warrior flew across the Earth, enjoying every field, every ocean, every light breeze caressing his face. He enjoyed this last lap to the fullest.

There was only one person missing, who was no longer on Earth… 

Yes, after all, he wasn’t able to find Chi-Chi. She was already gone. He felt terrible. His wife was part of him and he really wanted to see her just one more time. He didn’t know how to find her soul among many others in Paradise. It was just a light in its true form. It was too late. 

***

After reflecting on his thoughts and making one last memory on Earth, Goku felt a touch on his shoulder. He turned around. "Son Goku, are you ready?"

He sighed. He wasn't sure yet. He felt as if something was missing. He couldn’t leave permanently like any being in this universe yet. 

After completing his last training and duties in the dragon realm, which was creating the dragon balls again, he would have to leave. His time was up, it was running out and this time it was for good. Son Goku would rest in peace.

They were on Planet Kaioshin. The wind picked up and made the petals and flowers of the trees fall, as if it were autumn time.

"I don't know, Mr. Kaioshin..." Goku replied, lowering his eyes to nothing in particular on the planet's greenish floor.

"Now boy, you’ve already said goodbye to everyone before returning to the dragon kingdom that time, and this is the agreement: The dragon balls will return to Earth and you will leave. It is the law of the universe, child. You made that choice and now you will have to deal with the consequences” Old Kaioshin continued, along with Kibito and young Shin.

Goku frowned at that. Yes, he was perfectly aware of that. He felt it was time, and the Earth deserved the wonderful reign of the dragon balls again.

But he had to find her first, find some way to talk to her and say goodbye. Because this time he would leave forever. Chi-Chi deserved at least a goodbye, she really did this time, and he had something stuck in his throat, something he really needed to say to her.

Goku looked him in the eye. "But I didn't say goodbye to everyone. I missed someone, and you’ll have to help me with this" he said firmly, his hair waving in the wind caused by the beings with him.

"That someone has already died, I know. The dragon balls no longer have resuscitation powers, but there has to be another way... I can't leave without talking to her" there was despair in the saiyan’s eyes.

There was a maddening silence -as if everyone there was thinking of a solution for the warrior. After all, Goku deserved one last request, it was the least they could do after everything he’d done.

"I think I know hos..." Kaioshin replied. "Shenlong may no longer have the power to resurrect but he does have the power of time"

Shin and Kibito were confused by the old man's statement, but didn’t doubt his words. After all, he was still their most experienced and wisest deity.

"Power of time...?". Goku wondered for a few seconds.

Until realization dawned on him and his eyes widened, sparkling with joy.

"That's it! So I just need to go over there and-"

"But bear this in mind, Goku" Kaioshin interrupted him by raising a hand in front of him. "As soon as you’re done, your body will disappear and your soul will finally be at peace"

Goku nodded calmly. "Okay, well, I think it's goodbye this time, isn't it?"

The kaios in front of him bowed in gratitude, looking at him with admiration. "Goodbye Son Goku." said the youngest of them.

And then Goku teleported to Earth, after so long. At an impressive speed he brought the seven dragon balls together again. It was incredible that his life would end with them. He didn't need a radar to find them, he just knew where they were.

The dragon balls began to shine together.

"Show yourself, Shenlong, and grant my wish!"

The sky darkened, the golden light coming from of the spheres causing the Dragon to be reborn again. Goku couldn't help the nostalgic memories that were going through his mind while his eyes reflected Shenlong's light.

"State your wish and I will fulfill it according to my possibilities!"

"I wish to go back to Chi-Chi’s happiest time in her life... my wife."

The dragon stood still for a minute, making Goku tense up, his fists clenching.

"Your wish will be granted. You will have five minutes! Goodbye!" And so Shenlong's eyes shone red and a golden light surrounded Goku and took him from his current time.

After a trip through nothing but white and gold lights, he opened his eyes and sighed in surprise.

Goku was in an incredibly large garden, so beautiful that it looked like Paradise itself. He looked around and noticed several people in the place. They were laughing, talking, drinking and eating. He heard birds singing from several directions. It was a party, apparently.

Goku turned around and was faced with a lake and a nearby apple tree. He put his hand on the tree... this place looked familiar. He approached the water, which was shining like crystals, and the ground was covered by many flowers. Rose petals were falling as the breeze claimed them. Their smell was also familiar when he took one in his hand.

When he looked at his hand, he noticed that his outfit was actually different from the one he was wearing before. He kept looking at himself until an epiphany hit him: he was wearing a white tuxedo, with that itchy bow tie.

"So the happiest time in her life is-"

"Goku!"

Goku heard that young and smooth voice calling out to him, his eyes instantly looking in her direction. It was Chi-Chi, his wife. Of course, the happiest time in her life was their wedding. He smiled at that. He would’ve sworen it was when Gohan had graduated from college or anything related to his children.

How wrong he had been.

She was beautiful. Today, he had a better grasp at these things of course, but back then… ah, if only he had known. He would’ve been able to appreciate her beauty for much longer.

Her face, her flushed cheeks, her long lashes, her black and shiny eyes, her delicate pink lips and her ivory-white skin. Her strands of hair swayed gently in the wind.

"Goku?...". She softly called him again as she approached him. "What are you doing out here alone? I’ve been looking for you."

Goku blinked a few times, coming out of his daze. "Chi-Chi… H-hi.". The moment he saw her in front of him, he felt nervous, like a hesitant teenager.

Chi-Chi smiled at him humorously and gave a light laugh. It was one of the most beautiful sounds he’d ever heard.

"Okay, come with me, there’s a table full of sweets especially set up for my husband. I’m sure you don’t wanna miss it" Chi-Chi wrapped her arms around him, starting to lead him, but Goku stopped.

"No, wait a minute" he stopped her, taking her hand and coming closer to her. "I need to tell you something. It 's important."

Goku stared at her with such depth in his eyes, she couldn’t decipher it. "Goku ... are you okay?". She asked worriedly when she noticed that he looked a little serious and tense, placing a hand on his cheek lovingly.

He stood still, enjoying the warm touch of her hand under the glove of her wedding dress. He closed his eyes and smiled softly, caressing her hand on his face. Oh, how he’d missed this -he hadn’t known just how much until now. It’d been so long for him.

Surrounding her with his arms, Goku took a deep breath and swept away any hesitation, bringing back his confidence when he smiled at her and looked into her eyes lovingly, "Come here". And he brought her close to him. Of course that would startle her a little. After all, at the time a simple touch was enough to make him panic, but he was running out of time. "Chi-Chi, I just wanted to let you know that today was... I mean-". He corrected himself. "It is a very important day for me... and no matter what happens from now on, I’ll always be thinking about you"

He felt her still in his arms. That was not the reaction he was aiming for, but he hated this kind of goodbyes the most in the entire universe. However, it was too late and he had to continue.

The orange flower petals from Chi-Chi's bouquet whirled in the breeze behind Goku's neck, enveloping them both, as if nature wanted to keep that moment only for them. 

Chi-Chi wasn’t following Goku at all.Of course they’d been harboring a very strong admiration for each other during the months before the wedding, and she hoped that could develop into something stronger after the wedding when they’d have to live together.

But this… it was beyond her wildest dreams, it felt like an illusion. He was looking at her and talking to her as if he’d known her for an entire lifetime. 

There had to be something wrong with him, it could only be that. There was no other explanation. 

What did that mean? Is he leaving? Is he going to die? Is he going to give up on her?

Those thoughts were running through her mind now, haunting her.

"Goku... I don't understand. Why are you talking like that? You're scaring me..."

Her eyes began to waver as she looked into his, her voice was low and soft, as if she were about to cry. She was afraid, not of him, but of what his actions and words could mean.

It was a mystery how she would manage to read him so well since that day, since the beginning of their lives together.

Goku rested his forehead on hers with his eyes closed, and brushed his nose against hers, as if wanting to capture the aroma of flowers flowing from his wife.

"Don’t worry” he whispered when he opened his eyes to look at her. "It's okay, trust me."

Chi-Chi looked stunned and frightened at the same time, if that was even possible, and started to doubt him again. "No, it's not okay and if there's something wrong I can-"

The touch of his lips on hers silenced her instantly. She relaxed, closed her eyes and enjoyed that moment. Her body went limp against him completely. Even if he’d been desperate to do that, it was also the only way he could think of to show her that everything was fine.

The kiss was delicate, soft and warm. No lust or despair there, just the purest possible and most loving of feelings.

When Goku leaned back a little, he gave his wife in his arms a small smile. They could feel each other's warm breaths fanning their faces.

"I just wanted to say... that I love you. I will always love you, forever, no matter what. You have changed my life in a way that I can’t even fathom right now. Just believe me" He whispered.

Chi-Chi was red-faced, surprised, stunned, scared, in love ...

All at once, and she couldn’t take it.

Soon, tears were streaming from her eyes, but she smiled at him when she felt her feet back on the floor as he released her, his arms still around her and hers still around his neck.

She really loved those words, so sweet and unusual, certainly unusual, but they flew out of Goku’s mouth so abruptly that it was astonishing to her. He seemed different from her usual Goku, and that worried her. 

But why destroy this exciting mood with questions? That statement could be a good thing, so why doubt your husband? She will never doubt the words coming from someone she loves so much, and even more now.

She laughed weakly at her husband, "Son Goku, what happened to you...", she swallowed, teary eyes looking at him when he gave a weak laugh. "I love you too, silly, and I will never give up on how I feel about you."

Goku knew this very well, and she never gave up on their relationship, no matter the flaws they had and the obstacles they had to endure. Somehow, their love for each other was always stronger than anything that could arise.

And he wanted her to know that he loved her and still loves her in a way that he could’ve never imagined and that... man, and what a spectacular life they built together. Their children, their granddaughter and their friends. All of it, he wanted her to know all of it, he wanted her to know how grateful he is grateful for all that love.

And that he will love her for eternity.

Now Son Goku can rest in peace.

Chi-Chi hugged him tightly with her arms around his neck. She understood. She simply did.

He buried his head in the back of her neck and hugged her tightly too, absorbing every bit of he could from her essence.

Chi-Chi moved back and they stared into each other’s eyes. 

"Hey Chi-Chi! Look at the amazing shoes I got you as your wedding gift!" a family friend called out, interrupting the connection the couple had established with their eyes. 

“Are you coming?” Chi-Chi asked, looking at him while wiping her tears. 

Goku smiled and nodded. "Go ahead, I'll be right there."

And so his wife shook her head and slowly moved away from him. When there was enough distance, he felt his body crumble, becoming transparent until nothing was left.

He noticed that a little over five minutes had passed... 

"Thank you dragon balls". And those were the last words of one of the greatest warriors the world has ever known. Turning into nothing more and nothing less than bright points of light spreading like fireflies between the petals of flowers in the air, dancing in the autumn breeze.

Rest in peace, Son Goku!

The bravest and kindest fighter who ever lived. 

The End

#Goku e Chichi #Gochi #Dragon Ball #Farewell

[athingthatwantsvirginia]

Of Princess Bride Past

PART THIRTY-TWO OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 5.1K

Summary: Ella plays piano for the first time in a long while.

Rushing up the stairs to the apartment, Ella almost tripped more than once. The main floor of Truncheon was empty, books shut and the sign on the front door turned to Closed. Rain showered down hard, and all manner of umbrella patterns could be seen on the sidewalk outside. Her own umbrella, collapsed and dripping, sat next to the front door. She’d practically thrown it down in her hurry. Biting down on her cheek, she was nearly out of breath by the time she made it through the apartment door. Everyone was mingling in the living room, nursing beers and waiting for the last member of the group to arrive. They looked up at the sound of her huffy entrance and offered greetings.

She barely gave anyone a glance as she hung up her raincoat and began undoing her french braid on her walk to the bedroom. “Sorry, sorry. Just give me five minutes and I won’t look like a bank teller anymore.”

Seven o’clock had come and gone, and she had still been stuck in the lecture hall, while her advisor gave her notes on the presentation in art history. All in all, her advisor had been impressed. But she was not one for brevity, and Ella had taken several anxious peeks at her watch during the review. It was the last day of class before spring break, and Ella was eager for the week off. She’d been so busy with midterms, she hadn’t been able to make it to any of Leo’s recent gigs. But he was due on stage at Keeley’s between eight and eight-thirty. And there was no way she was going to the show dressed in her blazer and pencil skirt, gray and stiff. She’d worn it only because one of the oldest men on the entire faculty had been sitting in on her presentation, and Ella had heard about his penchant for professionalism.

Ella thought she heard Chris yell some crack at her outfit after her, but she had already slammed the bedroom door. She stripped out of her clothes, throwing them in the hamper with disdain. She hoped it would be some time before she would have to wear anything of the sort again. Opening up a dresser drawer, she ran her eyes over prospective outfits for the night.

Breathing a frustrated sigh, she pulled a grayish-purple babydoll dress over her head and went to sit down on the bed to tug on her fishnets. After having appraised herself in the mirror above the dresser, she decided her makeup was decent enough and touch-ups would be unnecessary. She was wearing far less than normal, anyway. She had a feeling the ancient history professor who sat in wouldn’t exactly smile upon thick eyeliner or dark lipstick. The need to change her look simply to please the man made her skin crawl, but she could see no other way out. He had once ordered a graduate student out from behind the podium because his shirt had a stain.

The next time she was in class, though, she would be back in her grungy attire. Just putting on the fishnets made her feel more comfortable than she had been all day. She reached under the bed, grabbed her Doc Martens, and laced them up faster than she previously thought was humanly possible.

She was about to go back out into the living room, prepared to return to the flooded streets at a moment’s notice. But then she passed the mirror again and, on second thought, decided she simply couldn’t stand not doing something interesting with her face. She swiped on some dark wine-colored lipstick and gave herself a tiny cateye with a trained, precise hand. Having done winged liner on and off since high school, she found practice had made her skilled enough to get it right on the first try about half the time. It was perhaps her greatest accomplishment in life.

Grabbing her secondhand leather jacket, she trudged back out into the living room. She ran her fingers through her hair a few more times, untangling the remnants of her braid and smoothing down the dark blonde waves.

“We wouldn’t have been late even if we left thirty minutes from now,” Matthew said, standing up with Mabel by his side.

“Well, on time is late, and early is on time,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

Chris rolled his eyes as he also rose, from his armchair, and made his way to the coat rack. “Were you the hall monitor or something in high school?”

Jess snorted a laugh, his nose still buried in a Hunter Thompson book where he sat on the couch. “Far from it.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean, Mariano?” she asked, furrowing her brows.

Smirking, Jess shut his book and tossed it on the coffee table. He went to grab his black jacket, while everyone mingled by the door, ready to brave the weather on the short walk to Keeley’s. “You threatened to stab me the first time you met me.”

“With a butterknife,” Ella countered defensively.

The rest of the group snickered, exiting the apartment and filing down the stairs.

“Ah, young love,” Chris teased. His pale cheeks were rosy, his blue eyes wide with excitement. Despite how much of a pain in the ass he could be, Ella felt her heart warmed to see how proud he was of his boyfriend.

“I thought he was trying to rob the diner,” Ella continued, grabbing her umbrella again before they went out onto the grimy, damp streets.

The rain had lessened slightly, to a chilly drizzle, but was still wet against her face. Jess took the umbrella from her, then interlaced their fingers with his free hand. She glanced up at him in thanks, and he winked in response. She could feel the scar from where the knife had sliced him the night they planned for their first date.

“Quite the menace, was he?” Matthew asked over his shoulder. Mabel had her arm linked with his, following along with the conversation. They had known her for a few weeks, but Ella suspected she hadn’t quite become comfortable. She was more timid than Ella expected for an actress, but she was truly sweet. Wore her heart on her sleeve, a quality Ella also recognized in Matthew.

“Oh yeah. Dennis was his middle name,” Ella smiled nostalgically. “Think if Sid Vicious and Elvis had a baby. Whose big moves are stealing gnomes and doing close-up magic.”

Chris laughed out loud, nudging Jess in the ribs. Jess blushed, glaring at Ella.

“Aw, were you a little Criss Angel wannabe?” Chris crooned, mocking.

Jess rolled his eyes. “I was not. It seemed to charm Eleanor just fine, anyhow.”

“I was young and misguided,” she said wistfully.

“And you were tripping over your own feet at least once a week,” Jess chimed in. “Though, not much has changed on that front.”

Ella scoffed. “You worked at Walmart.”

“You bought a Train album!”

“That was one time!”

“Once is plenty!”

Staring at him for a long moment, she finally uttered a defeated sigh. “You’re right. Train sucks.”

“Sure does,” Chris chimed in with an amused grin, then shook his head at them fondly and linked up ahead with Mabel and Matthew.

“You’ve won the battle, Mariano,” she warned, pointing a finger at him. “Not the war.”

“Believe me, I know,” he replied, squeezing her hand affectionately, a smirk on his face. “How’d your presentation go today?”

Ella’s face lost a bit of its mirth and she shrugged, dejected. “Okay, I think. My advisor said I was talking too fast, but otherwise I did well. We’ll see.”

“I bet they didn’t know what hit ‘em, honey. I mean, we practiced like fifty times. You had it word-for-word last night,” he said, growing more earnest. “I’m sure you were amazing.”

She averted her eyes from him. “Maybe. I felt like I was getting suffocated up there wearing those clothes, though.”

“I don’t know. It wasn’t the worst outfit,” Jess said. “It had a certain American Psycho thing going for it.”

“And that’s good?” she asked with a doubtful chuckle.

“Not good, per say, but definitely interesting,” he replied, nonchalant. “I can’t believe you can do things like that. Just get up there and speak. I would pass out on the spot.”

“Well, then I’m glad you’ve got a job where you can be all Phantom of the Opera and hide out in that tiny office all day,” she said with a grin.

Over the past few weeks, the guys had finally turned the back rooms of Truncheon, previously just storage space, into offices. Each one could barely hold a desk, but they were enough. Jess had already collected an impressive pile of books in one corner. The Hudson River sketch sat in a small frame next to his bulky, aged computer.

“Yep. Counting my blessings,” he quipped flatly as they approached the bar.

.   .   .

For once, the St. Patrick’s Day decorations hung year-round at Keeley’s were semi-appropriate, with the holiday having been only a week past. They shone, green and tacky, in the yellow light of the main room. Leo sat on a stool on the small stage, doing his final number. An array of instruments were set out around him: guitars, tambourines, a keyboard, a bass. His closing song was played on a ruan, a Chinese lute he’d bought as a teen on a trip to visit his grandparents, when he was just beginning to write his own music. Ella thought it was perhaps his versatility that made Leo such an incredible musician. As only a half-decent piano player, she couldn’t imagine learning something with strings or sticks. She had no idea how he had picked up so many different skills.

Chris, Matthew and Mabel were all floating in the middle distance somewhere between buzzed and fully drunk, nursing local beers and watching Leo with thoughtful, glazed eyes. Both Jess and Ella sipped on club soda, sat in the booth across the table from their friends. No matter how much Ella insisted she didn’t care if Jess drank, he never really did. He thought it was a pretty good idea, considering his own mother’s history with addiction. And what was the point of being drunk if Ella wasn’t going to be drunk with him? It would be no fun if he couldn’t go on the ride with her, anyway.

The crowd had been lively when they first arrived, tables packed and customers chatty. But as the evening wore on, parties left, congestion dissipated. A few lonely individuals sat solemnly at the main bar. Leo had a moderately receptive audience, though the band performing before him had a bit more notoriety and a larger fan-base. By the final number, only the five of them remained at their half-table, half-booth, looking on with pride and intrigue. Ella thought she had never seen Chris smile so big as he did at Leo’s gigs. The starry gaze was a bit saccharine, but most of the time it was tolerable, and even cute.

“He’s really good,” Mabel said softly as Leo reached the instrumental.

“Isn’t he?” Ella whispered back across the table emphatically.

Mabel nodded, her bright brown eyes sparkling. “His voice kinda reminds me of The Smiths”

Ella’s smile widened. “I love them!”

“Oh, they were basically all I listened to in high school,” Mabel said, nodding in agreement.

“Not you too,” Jess chagrined from beside Ella, his arm around her shoulders.

“What?” Mabel asked, raising one of her thick eyebrows. Ella wished she could have Mabel’s eyebrows. They seemed to be shaped perfectly, and didn’t even need to be filled in.  

“Jess thinks he’s too good for indie,” Ella said.

“No, I just never find myself in the mood to listen to some guy whine into the microphone,” Jess said, scoffing slightly.

Ella shook her head in disappointment. “It’s poetry!”

“Even worse,” Jess retorted.

She rolled her eyes at him, but didn’t respond as Leo began singing again. Jess’s fingers ghosted over her shoulder up and down, making pleasant goosebumps rise on her freckled skin. As Leo’s voice rolled gently over the last few words of the song, Ella closed her eyes and felt the notes vibrate in her chest. Jess looked over and found her looking calm, far away inside her mind as she listened. He pressed a kiss to her hair and a tiny smile passed over her lips, though she didn’t open her eyes until the final chord finished its reverberation through the room. The five of them erupted in cheers and applause, which sounded scant in the nearly empty place. Leo smirked at them from the stage and gave a mocking bow.

“They say the underground following is the most devoted,” he muttered into the mic, stripping off his ruan. Then, he looked up at the large clock across the room. “But since we’ve still got ten minutes left, why don’t we get secret musical prodigy Ella Stevens up here?”

Ella’s brow crinkled with confusion, and her smile faltered. “What?”

“You never told me about the piano thing! C’mon, take advantage of this keyboard,” Leo called over the mic.

She glared over at Chris, who pretended not to feel her eyes on him. “What did you tell him?”

After a moment, Chris slowly craned his neck in her direction. “Who? Me?”

“Asshole,” she hissed under her breath, narrowing her eyes.

“Hey, I was simply relaying what little interesting information exists about you,” he said, raising his hands in surrender.

Ella ran her finger horizontal across her neck, a teasing threat.

“We don’t have all night, Ella,” Leo continued into the mic.

“Yeah, let’s hear it, Ella. I’m sure you’re great,” Mabel said genuinely, leaning over the table, conspiratory and cheerful. The positivity would have been annoying if Mabel were not so down-to-earth.

“Agreed,” Matthew chimed in.

Ella laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “No one wants to subject their ears to that, I promise.”

“I don’t know, Stevens. I was pretty starstruck the one time I heard you play in all six years I’ve known you,” Jess smirked, eyebrows raised.

“Judas,” she spat at him, removing his arm from her shoulder.

“If you can get up in front of two hundred people to talk about the effect of the lost generation on modern art, you can do this, Daria,” he continued, unphased by her grouchiness.

Heaving an ambivalent sigh, she listened to their persistent encouragement. Then, with one final huff of obstinacy, she stood from the table and marched up to the stage. She flipped them off behind her head as they gave hoots of satisfaction and Leo set the keyboard up at the front of the stage, with the stool and microphone.

“I’ll never forgive you for this,” she whispered to Leo.

He gave a nod, humoring her. “Yes, I fear you.”

“Well,” she said sardonically, sitting down and watching as he descended the stairs. “In a minute, you’ll pity me. I did not inherit my mother’s talent!”

She felt her heart expand when she saw Chris give Leo a congratulatory kiss before they settled into their seats next to each other. Then, she rolled her eyes at herself for not sticking to her ill will, and dropped her eyes to the keys. They were shiny white and black, newer but less charming than the piano at Miss Patty’s. Her fingers were poised over the keys, and she swallowed dryly, remembering. She’d couldn’t quite place when the last time she’d played had been.

Glancing up nervously, biting the inside of her cheek, she caught Jess’s eye. He threw her another wink and she let out a scoff at him. The longer she sat up there, the more her heart slowed. She straightened her back, felt herself regaining the old position. Resisting the urge to tug anxiously at her earring, she flipped for a moment through her mental catalogue. Then, she cleared her throat and let a small, wicked grin cross her lips.

“Fine. But this is your funeral, everyone,” she quipped. “This song is dedicated to Chris, who is fucking wrong about Joni Mitchell.”

A final, slight shake of her head and she launched into “Blue.” Her fingers were rusty and creaky, but the song flowed out of her as though she had just learned it. She couldn’t sing nearly as high as was necessary for an exact recreation, but she was getting at more of a tuned down interpretation. Her voice was raspy, and Jess was never surprised how much she identified with Stevie Nicks. Though recently, there had been more Amy Winehouse spinning on the turntable. And Ella knew she could never sound remotely like Amy Winehouse.

The stage light was whitish and soft, and Jess could feel his heart do a skip at the sight of her. She wasn’t the greatest musical talent, but it wasn’t pure talent which made her breathtaking to him. It was the way her eyes shut and her voice lilted with emotion. How she lit up so wholly when she played. And how fearless she had always been, putting herself out there with not a care in the world for what others thought of her. No stage fright, only perfectionism holding her back. She was only ever completely herself, perhaps what he admired most about her. His intrepid artist, with dimples and green flecks in her eyes and messy hair and a fashion sense not quite like anyone else. Warmth filled his heart and his body and his mind, and he could only watch her with a tiny smirk on his face. And he had never felt so sure of anything before.

.   .   .

The cap of the red pen was clamped between her teeth, her back against the wall, Nietzche staring overhead. Suppressing a yawn, she placed brackets around a paragraph she liked particularly well. Her first read-through of the new book had taken almost no time at all, as she devoured Jess’s prose fervently. She’d suggested some revisions, added some comments, without being asked. Jess insisted she didn’t have to do that work for him, especially not for free, but she told him she simply enjoyed it. It reminded her of the days when they wrote notes to each other in borrowed texts, those which ended up sitting in a shared pile, all mixed together, in their bedroom. And he had only smiled in response. Once again, it had shocked him how invested she could be in art. Not that he would ever call his writing ‘art,’ especially how much he despised his first novel upon rereading. But Ella asked for the second draft once he had revised, offering her critical eye, if he wanted it. He did, of course. And she was nearly done. There were noticeable improvements, and several new sections. It was coming together before her eyes, and sometimes she wanted to tear up out of pride.

Breeze seeped in through the draughty window, and she tugged the blanket up over herself a little more. Her impromptu performance at the bar, which ended with her flustered in the wake of everyone’s compliments even though she was aware she was nothing compared to Leo, had left her jittery and awake. Even after the presentation at school. Not exactly anxious, but charged with pseudo energy. She was only riding it until the crash. Jess wasn’t snoring yet, and she knew he wasn’t asleep, but dozing. Midnight had already passed into the early morning, and the rain was picking up again, pounding on the roof above them. Every so often, Ella looked precariously up at the water spot near the bedroom door.

Sighing faintly, she turned the page, more semi-stream-of-consciousness insights after a perspective shift. She had to commend him on his recent experimentation. She hadn’t expected it. Her face softened as she read the next paragraph, a new addition to the draft. It was through the eyes of the main character as he watched a woman paint a mural on a nondescript city street.

Racing, racing, racing of his heart, beating against his ribs like footsteps at the sight of the woman. Eyes from bottom to top, from battered shoes to patterned skirt and button-up shirt, protected by a dirty, threadbare apron. Strangers, he thought, strangers everywhere with separate stories to tell, unaware of his thoughts or his feelings or his words or his face. She looked like she belonged, despite her complete uniquity. He couldn’t imagine looking so established in any place, so uniform in unconformity. He wondered who she was painting it for, the ghostly figure surrounded by dead flowers and trash, a vision of the post-industrial American wasteland. Not many people were likely to see it under the bridge, which looked like where teenagers would come to smash light bulbs and kiss each other with teeth clashing together and sweat out their last bit of rebellion. He wondered who had assigned her the location, if she had chosen it herself, if she was painting only for herself.

The intensity in her eyes told him she could have been, green pools of vigor and concentration as he approached, boots rhythmic on the cracked sidewalk. A tragedy, he thought suddenly, staring at her near-finished creation, she was painting a tragedy and she knew it. She could feel it. He saw it not so much in her form as in the eyes of the ghost in the painting, hollow and desolate, with a single jewel of color in the middle. The rest of the piece was only in shades of gray, a hopelessness exacerbated by more small, foolish hope. He almost laughed under his breath, instead allowing his eyes to fall back on her as he passed around her, leaving considerable space between them. He didn’t want to interfere, break her focus, not that she looked as though she could ever be shaken by anything. Their eyes locked for only a moment, as she stepped back to regard her work. She didn’t smile, she didn’t frown, she only saw. She saw, and then she was out of sight again. And another story was behind him.

Smirking slightly as she read, she capped the pen again once she had finished. And she placed the manuscript on the bedside table neatly next to her. She switched off the last lamp and settled down into the sheets. Jess breathed deeply, stirring at her movements. She turned over on one side to face him, their noses only inches apart.

“Jess?” she asked.

“Hm?” he hummed, eyes cracking open.

“Can’t sleep?”

“I’m getting there,” he shrugged, though they both knew it wasn’t exactly the truth.

Ella nodded. “Well, I got to the part where he sees the woman painting the mural. And I have to say, I think I recognize the influences.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine. Maybe James Joyce wasn’t completely incoherent. It wasn’t serious, though. It was meant to be making fun of his adolescent emotionality, like Stephen in Portrait.”

“Ah, I think I’ve officially converted you,” she said, her smile growing wider.

“I think you’re speaking too soon,” he replied.

“Agree to disagree.” Her tone was light and sincere as she continued, though her smile shrank. “Did you really love me when you first saw me?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s it, Chatty Kathy?” she asked, eyebrows raised in annoyance.

Jess sighed. “Well, what do you wanna know?”

“I don’t know. I’m trying to understand it,” she said, studying his face with narrowed eyes. If he knew the section she had just read, he shouldn’t have been surprised by the question. Besides, she had been wondering for a while. How someone who had been bitten by the world so many times could still believe something so romantic. In a way, she was envious, and in another way, she was scared for him. “Why did you tell me it was that day in the gazebo?”

He paused for a long moment, running his hand over his mouth. She could see his grandfather’s necklace peeking out from the collar of his t-shirt and glinting in the moonlight, which streamed through the window. He barely ever took it off.

“Well, first of all, I knew there was no chance you’d run away with me if you thought I was crazy enough to believe in love at first sight,” he explained slowly, trying to ignore the embarrassed squirming in his stomach. “I was trying not to scare you off. Shocking, I know, considering what a Romeo and Juliet stunt I was pulling.”

“He could’ve just waited to drink the poison,” she agreed, earning her a chuckle.

“And, at the time,” he continued, growing a bit more confident in his articulation, “I wasn’t even sure. For a long time, I couldn’t figure out when I fell in love with you. Eventually, I realized the reason was because I had been in love with you the entire time.”

She hummed, her brows furrowing inquisitively. “I just can’t imagine it.”

“Which is why the amount of poetry you read will never make sense,” he said. Then, after a moment more of gathering his thoughts: “And it’s not the same kind of love. It’s still love, but it’s not the same as what I felt after I got to know you.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

Breathing out a long breath, Jess searched again for the right phrases.

“I don’t know, Stevens,” he admitted, biting down on his lip for a moment. “Maybe it’s more like I knew I would love you. I saw you, and I knew I loved you before I knew why I loved you. Now, I know why.”

She nodded earnestly against her pillow, damp hair smelling of lavender. “Curiouser and curiouser, Mariano.”

“Not to the Hemingway fans among us,” he said.

“Well, Hemingway fans are the biggest romantics. It’s a universal law,” she replied, voice growing heavier with fatigue. Finally, it seemed, the rush of the night was wearing off, replaced by a tranquil ease she hadn’t expected. Spring break was long overdue.

“So I’ve heard,” he replied fondly. “I told you the first time we met, y’know.”

“What?”

“That I loved you.”

She furrowed her brows suspiciously, a smirk tugging at one corner of her lips. “I think I would’ve remembered that.”

“Well, I didn’t say it in so many words.” Jess’s eyes twinkled with teasing, and she scoffed.

“You did not.”

“Yes, I certainly did.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious, Daria.”

Her face lost its brevity as she saw he was, in fact, serious, despite how cocky he sounded. Playing the memory over in her mind, she was hit was nostalgia and confusion. Humming Stevie Nicks, spilling salt, empty threats, cleaning tables with Jess following behind her, never losing his wiseass remarks or his sarcastic grin. Then, after a moment, it hit her. As you wish. She had hardly noticed it at the time. Only a reference, leading to their first argument over movies versus books. The words Wesley had spoken to Buttercup in The Princess Bride as a way of saying 'I love you.' She never even considered its meaning.

She let out a breathy, surprised chuckle. Meeting his eyes again, she shoved his shoulder playfully and flipped onto her back. She stared up at the ceiling, noticing the water spot again. The raindrops pattered a steady beat. “Fuck off.”

“What?” he asked, propping himself up on one elbow and tilting his head at her in amused askance.

“Jesus. That is so...sweet and wonderful. And fucking cheesy. Makes me sick,” she said, though she grinned through her words. She sighed and shook her head slightly, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose as she giggled again. “I don’t know whether to murder you or marry you.”

His breath caught in his throat for a second, but he regained his composure before she opened her eyes again and smiled up at him. “Well, maybe meet me in the middle and let’s get our own apartment?”

“Really?” she asked. So much information was flying at her, she didn’t know which thread to latch onto. And, unbeknownst to Jess, she was fighting the lump in her throat. She may have been a realist, but she wasn’t heartless. And she wondered how long she would be able to hold off the tears that threatened to spill over. A deep, aching love spread throughout her. It almost made her dizzy with joy. As you wish, he had said. It played over in her head suddenly, as though she had just heard it.

“Yeah,” he said, averting his gaze hesitantly. “It doesn’t have to be right away. There’ll probably be more leases in the summer once all the students go home. But I thought...maybe we’d have room for a keyboard or something. An easel, too. And we could stop hearing Chris and Matthew argue over which place has the best burritos at three in the morning. What do you think?”

“We could get an actual shelf for all your books,” she said, holding her smile.

“Yeah. You could organize them whatever way, if you want.” Jess tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as he spoke, then leaving his hand to rest on her cheek. “Or, I could do it. There is a method to my madness, y’know.”

“Okay, I’ll definitely need a couple months to decide whether to do color coordination or alphabetical order, then,” she said.

Jess chuckled. “Yeah, we’ll take some time. But...you want to?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do, James Dean,” she whispered softly. She placed a gentle hand on the back of his neck, and brought him in to place a sweet kiss on his lips. He smiled against her, nerves calming and body relaxing with her touch.

As they broke apart, he laid back down on his side, drawing her closer to him with an arm over her waist.

“I love you, Mariano,” she said, eyes fluttering shut.

“Love you back, Stevens,” he replied, thinking he may not be able to handle the pleasant butterflies erupting in his middle.

She breathed in contentedly. “And your new book is the next Great American Novel.”

“I doubt the New York Times will think so.”

“Well, I do,” she said simply. “You’re the fucking best.”

“It’s been said,” he quipped, finally shutting his own eyes. Their words had turned to murmurs, cozy and soft beneath the sound of the rain.

“But, I especially love how humble you are,” she added, yawning against the back of her hand.

“Right back at ya,” he deadpanned.

Snorting a laugh, Ella shifted so she was flush against him, warm in the cold room. And, by the time the sun rose through the breaking clouds, the rain had stopped completely.

#jess mariano fanfiction #jess mariano x oc fanfiction #jess mariano x original character fanfiction #oc #jess x original character #jess x oc #jess #mariano #gilmore girls #gilmore #gilmore girls fanfiction #gilmore girls au #jess mariano au #gilmore girls imagines #jess mariano imagines #gilmore girls xoc fanfiction #original character #original character fanfiction

[nickysurfer28]

Summary: Chris wants an official date with you. Will you say yes? And what happens during your newest dream with him?

Word count:over 1k

Warning ⚠️: 18+only smut,sex,group action,etc.

Characters: Dr.Nicky Ransom x Chris Evans , Denise Ames (cousin),Tim,Judith.

Chapter 10:

You wake in an unfamiliar room, and it takes you a moment to get your bearings.

Right. I fell asleep at Chris’s house. He must have put me to bed. It’s no surprise a house this size has a guest room.

You cast your eyes around the elegantly furnished room.

This is.. gorgeous. My interior design skills place in comparison!

Images from last nights dream flood your mind , and a fresh pang of arousal makes you gasp. You stare up at the ceiling, your body throbbing with frustrated desire.

I’m in Chris’s house. In Chris’s bed.

You slide a hand down your body, your skin tingling deliciously in its wake.

It wouldn’t be so wrong to give myself a little relief, would it? I should... pick up where my dream left off.

You slip your fingers between your legs, finding yourself slick and swollen.

That was a hell of a dream...

You close your eyes, remembering the feel of Chris’s mouth on you.

“Mmm...” Nicky moaned.

You circle your fingers faster, plucking at a nipple with your other hand.

So close...so close..

You piston two fingers inside yourself, then a third, imagining Chris’s hard cockiness their place.

“Oh!” Nicky squealed.

Climax surges through your body like an electrical current. Fully spent, you lay back against the pillows, panting.

And I’ll totally be thinking about that next time I see Chris. Great idea, self.

You slip out bed with a sigh. Your legs warble as you stand, your head swimming dizzily.

Ugh. Guess that’s what I get for staying up late. I’d do it all over again, though.

You look down at yourself and laugh.

And it’s no wonder my brain conjured a ball as I slept!

You straighten yourself up as a best you can, and you see a pair of shorts, and a man’s shirt laid out for you.

Chris is really thoughtful, huh.

After you change ,you head out into the hallway.

All right. Let’s see...

Doors lead off on either side of the hall. You try each in turn, revealing a series of rooms that look to have been rarely if ever used. You head back into the study.

We had a drink, we danced, I fell asleep, and he put me to bed. Nothing else happened between us last night. Certainly nothing sexual.

Your ears pick up the faint strains of music, and you follow it into an elegant parlor. Chris sits at a grand piano, his fingers moving gracefully over the keys. He looks up as you enter.

“Good morning.” Chris answered warmly.

“Good morning to you,too.” Nicky answered.

You watch him play for a moment.

“Wow, you’re .. very talented.” Nicky answered.

“Thank you.” Chris answered.

He chuckles, his fingers effortlessly gliding over the keys even as he speaks to you.

The song he’s playing sounds familiar.

“Apologies. I know classical music isn’t always everyone’s favorite.” Chris answered.

“No, it’s beautiful. You play so well.” Nicky answered.

“You’re too kind. Many don’t particularly appreciate this music nowadays.” Chris answered.

Chris smiles sadly as he plays.

Wait, the song is on the tip of my tongue.

“Well, Mozart is pretty palatable for anyone.” Nicky answered.

Chris smiles, his eyes alight with surprise and happiness.

“You know the piece?” Chris answered.

“Yeah. That’s his Sonata in B-flat major, right?” Nicky answered.

“It is.” Chris answered.

His lifting, hypnotic voice lets out a quiet chuckle.

“Very impressive.” Chris answered with a smile.

You feel your cheeks heat up at the compliment, but you smile back.

“Not as impressive as your playing.” Nicky answered.

“I take it you like classical music?” Chris answers.

“Doesn’t everyone?” Nicky answered. “So... who’s your favorite classical composer?”.

“Chopin. Definitely.” Chris answered.

Chris smiles, his eyes sparkling in the dim light. It’s the same smile Chris of you dream wore as he pushed your skirt up around your hips. Your pulse races.

“Ah. You slept well, I hope?” Chris answered.

“Um.”Nicky answered. Focus, Nicky! I have to...keep my cool.

You take a calming breath.

“I slept great. The bed was crazy comfortable.” Nicky answered. “Your guest room is beautiful, by the way.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you had a restful sleep.” Chris answered.

You have no idea.

“I did.” Nicky answered.

Chris nods.

“I’m glad. I’m afraid that room doesn’t see much use. And I’m sorry about your costume.” Chris answered. “I can’t imagine it was comfortable to sleep in, but I thought it best to- ah- leave it on you. I hope that was the right decision.”

An unwelcome tingle of arousal makes you shiver.

“Definitely the right decision.” Nicky answered.

Is the man trying to kill me?

You clear you throat , shaking the sexy thoughts from your mind.

“Sorry I just kind of ... fell asleep on you last night.” Nicky answered.

Chris laughs.

“You clearly have no head for drink.” Chris answered.

“It’s more a factor of usually being in bed well before midnight!” Nicky answered.

“Ah. I fear I can’t relate. I’ve always been a bit of an insomniac myself.” Chris answered.

“Have you spoken to your primary physician about that?” Nicky answered.

Chris arches an elegant brow.

“Right. None of my doctory beeswax.” Nicky answered.

“No. But I’m touched that you care.” Chris answered.

“I’m....glad you think so. Because I know it can be kind of annoying.”Nicky answered.

“It’s not.” Chris answered. “It’s nice having you here. I don’t usually have company in the mornings.”

Your eyes flick over to the heavy drapes blocking out the morning sun.

Poor Chris . I hate that I have to rush out on him.

“Thank you for having me, but...I should get going. It’s a workday for me. I need to get home and get ready for my appointments.” Nicky answered.

Chris raises from the piano.

“Won’t you stay just a bit longer?” Chris answered.

“Chris...”Nicky answered.

“Just a cup of coffee. What do you say?” Chris answered.

You go over your morning schedule in your head.

Coffee wouldn’t take long. I could spend a little more time with Chris and still get ready in time for work.

“I have time for coffee.” Nicky answered.

You let out a laugh of surprise as Chris pulls you into abrupt hug and then follow him into the kitchen.

The room is just as dim grey as it was before, but it seems less gloomy with Chris inside. He bypasses the coffee pot and pulls a French press out of an otherwise empty cabinet.

“You would be that bougie!” Nicky answered with a smile.

“A man needs to have standards.” Chris answered.

You drink your coffee slowly, talking about nothing in particular and enjoying each other’s company.

Is this what dating Chris would be like? Spending every morning with a sweet, gorgeous man who makes me fancy coffee? That doesn’t sound bad at all.

The time passes quickly, and soon you really do have to go.

You summon a ride, and Chris escorts you to the front door as the driver approaches.

“Thank you for spending the morning with me, Nicky.” Chris answered.

“We should do it again sometime.” Nicky answers.

You press a soft kiss to Chris’s cheek.

“Goodbye, Chris . I’ll see you around.” Nicky answers.

He takes your hand before you can open the door.

“Can we do it again?” Chris answered. “After spending last night chasing donations, I feel like I owe you a real date. Only if you’d be interested, of course. I wouldn’t want to presume-“.

“Chris... I’d love to go on a real date with you.” Nicky answered. “Later this week?”.

He smiles , and you feel a rush of lightheadedness that has nothing to do with your lack of sleep.

“That would be perfect.” Chris answered with a smile.

You reach for the door again,

“Wait!” Chris answered.

“Chris, I really have to-“ Nicky answered. The words are muffled as Chris presses his lips to yours. His kiss is chaste, but desire courses through your veins all the same. You wind you arms around his neck, kissing him fervently. His tongue plays at the seam of your lips, and you part them eagerly for him, greeting his tongue with your own.

“Mmm..”Nicky moaned.

He holds you close, his body flush against yours as he kisses you hungrily. You moan, content for the moment to stretch on forever... and jump as a horn blast communicates your ride’s impatience. You step out of Chris’s arms, your cheeks burning.

“You make it hard to leave, I’ll give you that.” Nicky answered.

“Then don’t leave.” Chris answered.

“I have to. See you soon?”Nicky answered.

Chris nods resignedly, and you give him one last kiss before slipping out the door.

After your final appointment that afternoon, a sudden burst of motivation carries you to your storage room.

This is where I’ve kept all of Clare’s things since she died. It hurts too much to look at them.

Now you unpack box after box, examining the priceless treasures within.

Clare’s sketchbooks. Her paintings . Her high school yearbooks....

You open a photo album to a shot of you, Clare, and Denise looking happy and carefree, and you smile wistfully.

If only .... I’d been old enough to help Clare. I didn’t understand at the time just how vulnerable she was. If I had , maybe I could have saved her from Adrian.

And you think of the man who ruined at all. Clare’s boyfriend . The love of her life, supposedly.

Adrian. His name was Adrian.

For a man you never met, Adrian has cast a long shadow over your life.

He took Clare from us, and he became my symbol for everything to avoid in life: dependency, need, lack of control... it’s why all my relationships have been so superficial. But now, with Chris...

Your cheeks warm as you remember the kiss this morning.

He’s not like anyone else I’ve ever met. Clare’s art should never have been gathering dust in here. It should be displayed all through the house to honor her memory.

You select a dozen canvases, and set them aside to take to a framer. Your phone vibrates with a text from Denise .

*text messages*

“Huge portrait exhibit at the museum this weekend! Wanna come with me and Tim?” Denise text.

“That sounds...fun.” Nicky text.

“I haven’t been to the museum in ages. Count me in.” Nicky text.

“YAAAAYY! Denise text.

“You should invite Chris, too. Art museums can be romantic..;). “ Denise text.

It sounds like Denise been spending too much time with Judith.

“You know what? That sounds like a great idea.” Nicky text.

*end of text messages*

You agree on a time and shoot a message to Chris.

It’s time to focus on the future.

A future that might just include a relationship with Chris Evans.

When you’re done with work on Friday, you feel utterly exhausted.

I’m excited to go to a museum with everyone..especially Chris.

That thought clings to you as drift off to sleep.

*dream sequence **

You’re in a museum, full of statues depicting knights in shining armor in battle.

I’m lucid dreaming again.

You walk up to one of the suits of armor.

“Hello there.” Nicky answered.

The knight tilts his head at you in acknowledgment.

“Oh, wow.” Nicky answered in shock.

Then, you notice all the knights shift to look at you.

“This is strange... but I’m not frightened.” Nicky answered.

“Is that wise.” Chris answered.

With a gasp, you whirl around to face the voice.

“Chris! What are you doing here? Our date isn’t until tomorrow.” Nicky answered in shock.

He steps closer to you and reaches out, stroking your cheek.

Then, everything shifts.

“A battlefield?”Nicky answered.

You turn around and see Chris dressed in knight’s clothing. Shadows of the knights close in on you, and Chris draws a sword.

“Give us the girl.” Knight answered.

“Never.” Chris answers.

Chris swings his sword and fights them off, moving smoothly and gracefully, almost like a dance.

“Chris! Watch out!” Nicky yelled.

He heads your warning, easily dodging around the knights. The battle stills, and Chris turns back to you.

“Are you frightened, Nicky?” Chris answered.

You barely need to think about the question.

“No.” Nicky answered. “I’m not afraid of you.”

He drops his sword and strides over to you. The defeated knights circle in, keeping their distance as they watch you both.

“You should be.” Chris answered.

Chris strokes your face with his hand, smearing mud across your cheek.

“Too bad for you.” Nicky answered.

He growls, wrapping an arm around your waist and hugging you close to his body. The force of it sends a thrill through you. Then, he claims your mouth in a heated, possessive kiss. You surrender to him easily, melting into his touch.

“Nicky...” Chris answered.

You feel the muddied ground on your feet, but you don’t care. You tug him closer, and he begins to lower you to the ground. Dirt and mud surround you as he claims your mouth with an animalistic want.

“The knights are still watching us.” Nicky answered.

“Does that bother you, Nicky?” Chris answered. “Does it bother you that I want to take you here, for all of them to see?”

“...yes.” Nicky answered blushing. “It... it does. It’s embarrassing.

Chris smiles fondly.

“Adorable.” Chris answered.

He pushes you further into the mud and you feel it cushion you, wet and filthy.

“I want you, Nicky.” Chris answered. “I want them all to see us.”

Desire courses through you, filling every inch of your body.

“What do you want, Nicky?” Chris answered.

You swallow, feeling the mud in hair, dirtying your clothes. The knights look on.

“Chris...I want you to fuck me here for all to see.” Nicky answered.

Chris growls, crashing his mouth to yours. You moan into him, and he takes advantage of your open mouth to plunge his tongue inside you. He explores your mouth like a man starved.

“Too many clothes..” Nicky answered.

He grunts and tears your clothes off as if they were made of paper. You gasp, your nipples hardening as they meet the cold air.

“C-Chris....” Nicky whispers.

“Are they watching, Nicky?” Chris answered.

You look to the side and see the knights are even closer than before, watching every move.

“Y-yes.” Nicky answered.

“Good.” Chris answered.

Chris takes his cock out and rubs it over your exposed, wet entrance.

“Oh, God.” Nicky squealed.

“So wet, Nicky.” Chris answered.

Then, without ceremony, he plunges into you. Groaning, he takes you roughly, his thrusts fast and hard as he pumps his cock in and out of you. Frantically, you move your hips to meet his hard thrusts, desperate for more friction.

“God, Nicky.” Chris answered

You moan, looking around to see the knights around you, their cocks hard in their trousers.

“They’re watching, Chris.” Nicky answered.

“I want them to see more of you.” Chris answered.

He pulls out of you and you whimper.

“I want you on your hands and knees, Nicky. I want them to see your face as I take you.” Chris answered.

“Chris...take me from behind.” Nicky answers.

Chris flips you over easily, exposing your ass to him. Mud is everywhere, wet and squelching. You look up, seeing the knights stroking their cocks as they watch.

“Look how beautiful you are, Nicky. They can’t help themselves.” Chris answered.

He pushes you into the mud so your ass is up in air, his thrusts just as merciless as before. Then he plunges into you again, and you scream in pleasure. The knights watch as they stroke themselves, faster and faster.

“Are you going to come, Nicky?”Chris answered.

“Y-yes. Oh, God, yes.” Nicky answered.

“Come, then.” Chris answered.

He thrusts harder, faster , until all you can do is scream his name.

“Chris...Chris!” Nicky answered.

And just like that, you come undone.

“Nicky....” Chris answered.

The knights around you all finished just as Chris comes inside you, spilling his hot seed everywhere. You collapse on the ground, and he lays himself on top of you. You’re both panting,exhausted and sated. You both lay there in the mud, filthy and sated.

“You did beautifully, Nicky.” Chris answered.

Chris kisses your neck gently, and you moan.

“You deserve to be treated like a princess after that.” Chris answered.”which is exactly what we’ll do.”

“What do you mean?” Nicky answered.

And just like that, the mud and dirty battleground disappear. You find yourself pristine,dressed like royalty.

“What?” Nicky answered in shock.

And then Chris appears, dressed like a gentleman.

“Hello, your highness.” Chris answered.

He gives you a bow, and then you see them. A second Chris, identically gorgeous.

“Are you ready to be treated like a princess?” Chris answered.

*end of dream sequence *

@denisemarieangelina @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @daliaevans @waywardodysseys @pine-fresh-kirk @jtargaryen18 @et-lesailes @patzammit @katiew1973 @thatgirly81 @mizcaptainphoenix @deidrashouseofpain @ohmy-captain @what-is-your-plan-today @star-spangled-beard-burn @worksby-d @wintrcaptn @captain-rogers-beard @comebackandhauntme21 @jms358 @captainchrisstan @captainchrisfics @branflakes82 @nbarnes @amazonx @americasass91 @thatsxamericasxass @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @enigma2112 @bellaireland1981 @brilliantkey @trishevans @littlefiercequeen @princess-evans-addict @shellbilee @nomadevans82 @artemisrogersbarnes @artisticrogers1972 @kellyn1604 @kelbabyblue @kailyndavillier @bit-of-a-timelord @southerngracela @denissjmaddox @whiskey-cokenfanfic @kayteewritessteve @imanuglywombat @mery-be @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @shadowcatsworld

#reblog #chris evans #princeofdreams chrisevansfanfic

[waltzofthewifi]

Alter Ego (Marinette March #10)

Monday

Tikki glanced over Marinette’s shoulder, so Marinette adjusted her position to let Tikki see the webpage. 

“Every year, our entire school votes for winners of certain categories,” Marinette explained. “This year we have ‘Most Likely To Become Famous’, ‘Most Likely To Accidentally Stumble Upon A Million Dollars’ - I’m putting Lila down for that, she’s way too lucky, ‘Most Likely To Successfully Run A Criminal Empire’, ‘Most Likely To Be Ladybug’-”

“That’s not good!” Tikki said.

Marinette gave her kwami a reassuring pat on the head. “Don’t worry, they’re not being serious about it. Besides, it’s not like I’m going to be chosen for that. I know Adrien likes to talk about how I’m an everyday Ladybug, but I don’t think anyone actually believes it.”

Tikki hummed doubtfully.

The Previous Monday

Marinette, as always, arrived to class in just the nick of time. 

But even if the bell had yet to ring, she still felt she was late. After all, clearly something had happened to have Alix and Ivan at each others throats. 

“What’s going on?” Marinette asked. 

“Alix crashed into Mylene earlier and broke her arm,” Ivan replied, voice low with anger. 

“It’s not my fault!” Alix yelled back. “She wasn’t looking where she was going either!” “You were on skates,” Ivan replied. “It was your responsibility to look where you were going, but you didn’t.” 

Marinette studied the two. They both looked mad, but in her experience, anger sometimes was just a symptom of another emotion. 

And she knew her friends well enough to guess. 

“Ivan, I know you’re concerned about Mylene, but yelling at Alix isn’t going to fix what already happened,” Marinette interceded. “I can’t say whose fault it was, but Alix cares for Mylene too. If she is at fault here, she probably already knows it. And Alix, I know you probably feel guilty, but if you messed up there’s nothing you can do now but apologize and try to do better next time.”

Ivan deflated first. “You’re right. I think I need to take a walk.”

“A wonderful idea, Ivan,” Bustier commented. 

Ivan still moved with a bit of anger as he went to grab his backpack. The door shut behind him with a bang, but no one commented. 

Alix remained tense. Marinette thought she detected the beginning of tears. 

“Alix, it’s okay if it’s your fault,” Marinette said, putting her hand on Alix’s shoulder. “You made a mistake - everyone does. The important thing is that you learn from it.” Alix didn’t budge, so Marinette added. “No one is judging you for this.” 

That deflated her. “I just - I was so worried I’d hurt her! I mean, badly! I know people who had really bad concussions from that type of collision and I thought I -” 

Alix sniffled, and Marinette opened her arms to her. The two hugged for a few seconds before Alix pulled away. 

“You're right. I need to learn from this - and I will!” 

.

Tuesday

“Okay, so Alya can get Lila’s drink, Alix can get Mylene’s drink, Ivan can get Mylene’s tray, and then Nino and Juleka can split Lila’s tray between the two of them,” Rose deduced as they walked towards the cafeteria. 

“I can get something,” Mylene argued. “Only one of my arms are broken.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with that!” Rose replied. 

Alya’s phone beeped, and she peaked at the screen. “Guys, wait up - Marinette said to meet her back in Bustier’s room. She has a treat for us!” 

“Oh, I hope she brought something from her bakery,” Nino said.

“Me too,” Mylene said wistfully. 

It was a short walk back to the classroom, and the class was greeted by a delicious smell. 

“Forget pastry treats, she brought a whole lunch!” Alix said. 

Marinette greeted them. “Hey everyone! So I thought everyone could use a little cheering up after yesterday, and since I was stuck at home during that akuma attack and all, I thought it might be nice to arrange a lunch for us.”

“Marinette, you’re so nice!” Rose commented. 

“Yeah, and now we don’t have to worry about getting Lila’s and Mylene’s food,” Alix commented. 

“Thanks girl,” Alya said. “You really know how to cheer us up. 

.

Marinette was about halfway down the steps when she heard the sniffly. 

Marc.

She poked her head under the stairs, and, sure enough, Marc was sitting, looking near tears. 

“What’s wrong?” Marinette asked. 

“Nothing!” Marc replied. “I just-” he sniffled again. “I got some nasty comments online about my writing, and it-”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Marinette said when he trailed off. She sat down next to her. 

“They said what I was writing was wrong, because I had one of the characters go through a fight with his parents or... or something like that, I don’t know, but it was based off of real life, and I-” Marc sniffled. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m projecting onto my characters too much.”

“Well, first of all, I read that chapter and it was amazing,” Marinette replied. “I’ve never had a fight with my parents like that, and yet I could still feel what it must have felt like. I get that such a topic is probably triggering to a lot of people, but you put a content warning and everything!

“And second of all, there is nothing wrong with projecting. I do it all the time in my designing! It’s a lot harder to tell, obviously, but when I’m looking over old designs, I can almost always tell which ones I drew when having a bad day, or when I’m angry. I found one with a lot of spikes and sharp lines and went, ‘yep, I remember what Chloe said to me that day that made me draw this.’”

“So you’re saying it’s natural?”

“Of course. Our emotions and our experiences inform who we are, and what we create. We have to use some control, of course, but I think how you use it is great! Some of my favorite stories have so-called ‘self-inserts’. Besides, you’re not the one going around insulting people online, so you are definitely not in the wrong for this situation.” 

Marc nodded. “Thanks. I feel a little better now.”

.

Wednesday

Mylene smiled at her cast. “Wow, you two are so talented!”

Nathaniel blushed, and Marinette smiled. 

“I feel a lot better about it now,” Mylene said. “You really know how to brighten someone’s day, Marinette!”

.

“It’s so ugly!” Alya complained, spinning in a circle to show off her bridesmaid’s dress to Marinette and Nino, who were sitting on the couch in her living room.

Marinette had been summoned about half an hour ago by Alya’s mom, saying Alya was “near hysterics” and needed someone to calm her down. Preferably, someone’s who fashion sense “she actually trusted”, and couldn’t use the “your my mom you’re supposed to say I look good card” on. She had originally called Nino, but then Alya had played the “your my boyfriend you’re supposed to say I look good” card immediately. 

It made Marinette think being honest was the best way to go. 

“Of course it is!” Marinette replied. “It doesn’t fit. It’s way too big in the chest.”

“But I couldn’t take anything smaller in the hips,” Alya complained. 

“That’s okay,” Marinette said, standing up. “After all, what’s the point in having a designer for a best friend if she can’t fix a dress for you.”

“You’ll fix it for me?” Alya asked. 

“Of course,” Marinette replied. “If you pull it a little tighter hear, maybe pull the neckline up a little-”

“Yes please,” Marlene cut in. 

“And then loosen it around the hips, it will look fabulous on you,” Marinette finished. “I’d have to find a fabric really similar to this, but it shouldn’t be hard.” 

“I’ll pay you back!” Alya said, almost desperately. 

“No you won’t,” Marinette decided. “When is this needed by?” 

“The wedding’s in a month,” Marlene supplied. 

“I should have time to do it by then,” Marinette confirmed. 

Alya spun and enveloped Marinette in a bear hug. “Oh, thank you girl!” 

.

Thursday

Marinette spent lunch break at the Liberty, holed up in the practice room working on sketches for the album cover she had been asked to design. 

After about half an hour, Juleka and Rose peaked in to see how she was doing. Marinette happily showed them what she was working on. 

“This is my favorite,” Marinette said. “Penny sent me the photo from the last performance. The lighting isn’t good, and if we decided to go with it, we’ll probably retake it, but it’s great for inspiration. I think we can work out the colors of the outfits a little better too - Juleka, I have this brilliant purple jacket I think you will love-”

“Thank you Marinette for doing all of this!” Rose said. 

“It’s no big deal,” Marinette replied. “Especially since Penny arranged for me to be officially commissioned and paid like I was when I did Jagged’s album.”

“You’re amazing,” Rose continued. 

“No, you’re amazing,” Marinette countered. “I’m just here to support you guys.” 

“Shut up and take the compliment, Marinette,” Juleka said, just loud enough to be heard. 

“You are wonderful,” Rose said. “And you better believe it, too.”

.

Marinette spotted the girl crying in the locker rooms when she left the bathroom after detransforming. 

“Are you okay?” Marinette asked, sitting down next to the girl. 

The girl nodded. “Yeah, I just - yeah, I’m fine.” 

“You don’t look it,” Marinette replied. “What happened?”

“It’s nothing,” the girl answered. “It’s just - my boyfriend broke up with me, and he did it over text and I - I just -”

“Over text! How rude,” Marinette sympathized. 

The girl chuckled. “Yeah, definitely. I guess I wasn’t worth his time.”

“Sounds like he’s not worth your time,” Marinette replied. 

The girl shook her head. “You don’t know me. Trust me, I was lucky he even paid attention to me in the first place.”

“Well, maybe I want to know you,” Marinette said. “I’m Marinette.”

“Liz.”

“Nice to meet you Liz,” Marinette said. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Don’t you have to be in class?” Liz questioned.

“Eh, my attendance record is already bad,” Marinette said. “Nothing I can do to make it worse.”

Liz chuckled. “Alright then. Well, it started last year when-”

.

Friday

“Your dad can’t be serious,” Nino complained. 

“He is,” Adrien replied. “I’m sorry for having to bail - I was really looking forward to tonight.”

“It’s not your fault,” Marinette argued. 

“Yeah, your dad needs to calm down,” Alya added. 

Adrien said goodbye and headed down to his limo. Marinette felt something in the back of her brain, nudging her to do something, but she couldn’t figure out what. 

Adrien was about halfway down to the car when inspiration hit. 

“Wait!” Marinette raced down the stairs and to the car, where Nathalie was waiting for him. “Hi, I’m Marinette.”

“We’ve met,” Nathalie replied.  “Well, as you know, we really wanted Adrien to study with us tonight,” Marinette said. “But the truth is, I was actually wanting his help with something else - you see, I was invited to help design a suit for this big gala happening at the hotel in June-”

“You were invited to design for the Summer Gala?” Nathalie questioned, just as Adrien walked up next to Marinette. 

“Yes,” Marinette confirmed. “And I was hoping Adrien could help me, since he’s been to something similar-”

“Well, tonight he is definitely unavailable,” Nathalie said. She checked her tablet. “But next Tuesday he should be available. I can schedule for him to join your study group for you, and this time we should have more luck keeping his schedule clear.”

“Really?” Adrien asked. “Thanks Nathalie!”

“Of course,” Nathalie replied.

.

Saturday

“Thank you for coming into school on a Saturday,” Bustier said to Marinette and Alya as they arrived. 

“No problem,” Alya replied. “After all, this is a big deal! The school needs a much better kept ramp for students who can’t use the steps, and if this is our chance to make that happen, then I’m all aboard.”

“Me too,” Marinette said. “Alya has my full support.”

“Lately it feels like you’ve been supporting me,” Alya replied. 

“This was your idea,” Marinette said. “And you were the one to get permission to do a fundraiser.”

“Yes, but only because you were willing to organize the bake sale for us!” Alya said. “Not to mention the posters you designed! And the extra help you recruited. With so many students, this is sure to be a success. Especially now that we’ll have reporters coming. The school will be forced to uphold their end of the deal.”

“Both of you have put so much work into this project!” Bustier said. “I”m so proud of you both!”

.

Sunday

“Thanks for coming over on such short notice,” Mylene’s dad said, letting Marinette in. “I don’t know what set her off, but I think it’s a girl thing.”

Marinette nodded. “Don’t worry. I’ll do my best to calm her down.”

She had visited the Haprele’s apartment enough times to know which room was Mylene’s, and she knocked lightly on the door. 

“Mylene? Can I come in?” 

Mylene muttered something that sounded like a yes, and Marinette slowly entered her room. 

The room was a mess. Mylene was curled up on her bed, sniffled into her knees. She looked up with teary eyes as Marinette entered the room. 

“What’s wrong?” Marinette asked, sitting down on the foot of the bed.

“I misplaced the pin Ivan gave me,” Mylene sniffled.

It seemed so minor, Marinette knew something else was up. When Mylene hesitated for a moment, grimacing with pain, Marinette knew the what. 

“Cramps again?” Marinette questioned. “How about I get you some midol?” 

Mylene shook her head. “Just took some.” 

“Okay then,” Marinette said. She thought for a moment. “I’m going to call my mom and have her bring over some macaroons for us.” 

“Oh, please!” Mylene said. “I’ve been craving chocolate for decades.” 

“I’ll make sure she brings lots of chocolate,” Marinette confirmed. “And then I’ll help you clean up your room.” 

“And help me find the pin?”

“I’ll help you find the pin,” Marinette said. “I”m sure it’s around here somewhere.” 

Monday

“I’m going to put Alya down for Ladybug,” Marinette decided. “I bet she’ll be chosen.” 

“Maybe,” Tikki agreed. 

But probably not. 

#marinette dupain-cheng #marinette march #fanfiction #ml fanfiction #miraculous ladybug #my writing #my fanfiction #unedited #period #mentions of periods #mentions of broken bones

[lailaliquorice]

a dream is a soft place to land

this is a very very long awaited prompt from the lovely @bottom-of-the-bin who asked for aralyn with the prompt ‘It was you the whole time’. took me a little while to think of something but I’m soft today so here is some soft for you cass!!

I need to write more aralyn in general, and when I saw the show last sunday Jaye’J and Vicki were aralyn rights so I’ve been needed to write them this week in particular. little bit of historical aralyn alluded to too, and some nice commentary on anne’s relationship with relationships. I get a big people-pleaser vibe from her, and I think with catherine she has just found that person who is her home and she can sink into. it’s good and I love them <3

Skipping out on 500-odd years of human development meant that there had been plenty for the queens to adjust to when they were first reincarnated. Some things had been an exciting curve; most technology, for instance. Their appreciation for cameras and the ability to save moments forever was obvious in the photo frames dotted all over the house as well as Anna’s scrapbook, Jane’s photo album, and Anne’s string of polaroids. The internet had been a wonder for Cathy’s research , while Catherine was probably most grateful for the documentaries she could watch on a quiet evening when she didn’t want to be alone in her own head.

But there were some things that had been much harder. Remembering that falling ill wasn’t a death sentence anymore, for instance. The first time Kat had come down with a cough she’d burst into Jane’s room in hysterics, sobbing between painful breaths that she didn’t want to die again, and Catherine had seen too clearly the fear in Jane’s gaze as she hushed Kat with reassurances none of them quite believed in. They knew things were safer now, could remember that logically, but when times were stressful it was hard to trust in something so different from what they’d known.

A particularly nasty bout of colds had struck the entire cast and crew, meaning more than one show had to be cancelled as the fight to get six actresses and four band members onto stage became too hard. It was nothing serious, they were all repeatedly assured, just enough to make them all a little miserable and the idea of doing the job they loved so much seem like an impossible feat.

Catherine made sure to close the door quietly as she came home from a show with Anna and Kat. They’d managed to push through to what they were hoping was the tail end of the little epidemic, with all the Ladies in Waiting except Maggie back in commission and half of the queens just about able to pull off a good show.

Cathy’s insistence on pushing through when she was sick had caused her illness to drag on for much longer than anyone else’s, much to her frustration that Anna doing the same had had the opposite outcome, while Jane’s anxiety around illness meant she felt a little too mentally fragile to go on stage even though she was probably physically able to. Anne, on the other hand, had managed not to get sick for long enough that she got cocky thinking she’d escaped, right before she fell ill at the last minute and was still going through the worst of it.

After bringing Jane a mug of peppermint tea and checking that Cathy was still resting properly, Catherine padded quietly up the stairs to Anne’s attic room. Upon peering round the door she saw her curled up on top of the duvet asleep, though she stirred with a quiet hum as the door hinges squeaked slightly.

“Hello love,” Catherine said, crossing the room to sit on the edge of the bed as Anne blinked sleepily up at her. “How are you feeling?”

Anne hummed again as she decided on her answer. “Tired and achy,” she said, which explained why she hadn’t really moved from her lifeless position on the bed.

Giving her a sympathetic smile, Catherine felt her forehead before answering and wasn’t surprised at the head radiating from her skin. “You poor soul,” she murmured as she stroked Anne’s hair away from her face.

“I don’t like it,” Anne muttered, though seemed to relax a little under Catherine’s gentle touch. After several seconds of quiet, she met Catherine’s gaze almost hesitantly before asking “Can… can you just hold me for a little bit? Please?”

Catherine’s heart melted a little at the shyness in her voice, swinging her legs onto the bed to lie down and open her arms. Anne didn’t wait for her to say “Of course,” before she was crawling into her embrace, one arm around her back as she laid her head down just below Catherine’s chin.

They were quiet for a little while, Catherine just enjoying having her girlfriend in her arms and Anne taking obvious comfort from having someone holding her close. She was just wondering if Anne had fallen back to sleep when she shifted a little and asked “Do you remember that time we went riding back then and got lost in the woods together?”

The old memory was an unexpected but pleasant one, and Catherine found herself smiling into Anne’s hair as she replied. “Of course. We began that day at each other’s throats but ended it friends at long last, not that we could let the King know that. Whatever made you think of that now?”

“I dunno. Was just thinking about us, I guess.”

Catherine couldn’t help the frown that made its way onto her face at that, struggling to keep the stiff tension she could feel from building in her shoulders to the point where Anne would notice. “How so?” she asked, trying to keep her voice casual.

Anne shrugged, but when she moved her head up to look at Catherine there was only a soft smile on her face. “How its different with us than anything I’ve felt before.”

The curious quiet from Catherine clearly registered as a cue for her to continue, as Anne coughed into the crook of her elbow to clear her raspy throat before she spoke again. “Normally when I fell for people it’d be all at once. I wanted them, they wanted me, we’d both just want the people we showed to each other and when we really saw each other it never lasted. When they really saw me.” She trailed off for a moment then, a faraway look appearing on her face as she finished “I was always too much.”

“Never for me,” Catherine interrupted quietly, kissing Anne’s forehead lightly.

“That’s what I mean,” Anne fought on, finding Catherine’s hand and lacing their fingers together. “There was never any big moment with you, y’know? It never hit me like a bus that I was crushing on you which was what I always looked for. But it was that day in the woods that I actually saw you for the first time and you saw me, and for the first time ever that made things better.”

She broke off to sniffle loudly, and it was only when she looked back up into Catherine’s adoring expression that she realised that the usually so hard-headed Anne Boleyn was actually almost crying.

“And it took far too long but eventually I just knew. It was you the whole time. It was always going to be you.”

Catherine let out a choked up breathe as Anne finished, pulling her closer and holding her tightly. “I love you,” she said, not a single shred of hesitance in her voice. She’d struggled to utter those three words for so long, but now they fell off her tongue with practised ease from just how much she meant them.

Anne hummed happily from somewhere around Catherine’s collar, willingly accepting the kiss that Catherine placed on her lips before she gave a reluctant frown. “You’ll get sick if you do that,” she whined, sounding very unwilling to be the voice of reason for once.

“I’ve already had this illness, I’m immune to it now,” Catherine pointed out somewhat confidently, though pulled an unsure expression as she added “Well, I think that’s how it works.”

Laughter from Anne brought the smile back to her face, soothing her girlfriend’s worries by kissing her on the nose instead which just made her giggle harder. But she grew a little more serious when she spoke again, thinking of what Anne had said as she voiced her thoughts aloud. “You know what I think of love at first sight, but there was something on that day you’re right. Familiarity. Like my soul had found it’s home on Earth and it was with you,” she said wistfully.

“I love it when you get poetic,” Anne said, her voice somewhere between adoring and teasing.

Catherine gave a quiet huff, but her pretend annoyance lasted a second before the soft expression returned to her face. “You know what I mean though,” she said, and Anne hummed in agreement before she continued. “You’re the one person who I can be truly honest with. I never doubt my words with you or second-guess myself. I don’t have to be Catherine of Aragon when it’s just us within these walls. I can just be Catalina.” She loved it when Anne called her by her Spanish name; loved the distinction it gave her between her usual self and the person she knew inside, loved how the clumsy syllables rolled off her non-native tongue.

Nodding, Anne held Catherine’s gaze with a loving smile. “To me you are just Catalina,” she said, as if it was the most simple thing in the world. As if loving her was the most simple thing in the world.

“And I love you for it.”

Anne smiled. “Love you too.”

Catherine rolled onto her back as Anne clung to her tighter, curling up in the crook of Catherine’s arm with her head on her chest and legs tangled with hers. The last words before she drifted off to sleep were barely audible, but Catherine could pick out enough consonants from the sleepy mumble to get an idea of what she was saying.

“I always feel safe when I’m here with you.”

Pressing a kiss to Anne’s forehead, Catherine lay still with only her hand moving to card gentle fingers through Anne’s hair while she slept. She knew better than most the trust issues that Anne kept so quiet, so the true enormity of Anne’s statement wasn’t lost on her. So she held her close while she got the rest she so desperately needed, wondering what she had ever done to deserve to have someone like Anne walk into her life and look at her like she had hung the stars.

Catherine was ok with not knowing the answer to that. But what she did know what that she had no intention of ever letting her go.

#six the musical #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #catherine of aragon #anne boleyn #aralyn #laila's writing

[ferrethyun]

He’s my soulmate, unfortunately | Chapter 2

{Requests are open!}

Summary | Previous | You are here | Next

“So you mean to tell me that you found your soulmate and didn’t decide to let me know until now?”

“I know it sounds bad but it was the middle of the night manager-nim” Y/n sighed out, rubbing his eyes, “You would have been asleep. I wanted to tell you in person”

The older male that stood opposite the idol let out a deep sigh of frustration, pulling his phone out of his pocket “I can’t believe this has happened so close to the comeback” He gritted out, eyebrows furrowed, “I’ll talk to who I need to talk to, you go back to practice and I’ll come to get you all when we need to go to the radio interview today…”

Y/n looked down, eyes glassy and nodded before walking off down the barren hallways towards the practice studio he was just in. When he entered the room, the rest of his group could see the underlying frustration and sadness in his eyes but none of them wanted to bring it up. They had seen this look before when, in the past, their leader had thought he found his soulmark but it turns out it wasn’t; they had all heard the quiet sobs down the hall from when he was crying because he felt like the world wasn’t in his favour. They had all heard it yet Y/n still put up a front of him not caring. If you ever asked him about it, the leader would say that it’s for the sake of the fans, none of them wanted to see the idol they loved so much be sad over a simple thing he couldn’t control.

The idol snapped out of his jumbled thoughts after feeling the pounding bass of their title track for their upcoming album flow through his feet; the beginning few notes of the song allowed Y/n enough time to get into position, his body moving on its own as the lyrics began to fill the room. The group went on to practice other songs for another half hour before their manager came through the heavy wooden door.

“Alright, you lot!” His booming voice filled the studio, “Go and get ready because we need to head off to the radio interview soon! You have 20 minutes max!” The mention of a time limit had the two youngest, Shinwa and Lee, running off to go and get ready while the older three took their time.

With a quick wardrobe change, some makeup and a car drive later, the group known as Canvas were at the radio station. All members sat around a large, circle-shaped desk with headphones on and a microphone in front of them, two radio hosts with them. Per request, the group started off the interview by introducing themselves after the announcement that they were in the studio;

“1! 2!” The group chanted, “Paint the sky! We are Canvas!”

“If you don’t know who these guys are then where have you been?!” The female host questioned with a laugh.

“That’s right!” The male host affirmed, “Today we have every single member with us!: Y/n, Ren, Taewoo, Lee and Shinwa!”

Eventually, the studio calmed down and after a few basic questions of how they were doing and how life had been for them, the hosts moved on to some questions that were prepared specifically for the interview; “So! I’ll get the biggest question out of the way first…” one of the hosts began, leaning closer to the mic, “Can the fans expect a comeback soon?”

The question sent a buzz of excitement through the group, the fact that they had to keep it a secret bringing a grin to their faces as they looked between each other “Well…” The eldest member spoke up, “Unfortunately, we can’t say a single thing but please wait a little bit longer for us!” Murmurs began to fill the room in anticipation, Rens words clearly hinting at a bigger production that was going on behind the scenes. More questions were fired around the studio, ranging from “Who takes the longest to get up?” and “Who has improved the most?”; this went on for a while before the hosts announced that it was time for fan questions. The members adjusted their sitting positions, headphones and mics, getting a bit more excited for these questions as the fans tended to ask questions that were a lot more interesting.

“So the first question is about instruments!” The female host began, “This fan asks, ‘Do any of the members play an instrument. If yes, what instrument do you play?’”

The members of the group looked in between each other, trying to confirm if one of them did; Y/n sat in silence, the mention of instruments bringing back thoughts of his dream.

“I don’t think so?” Lee spoke, resting his head on his chin, confusion in his tone.

“Ah! No!” the youngest exclaimed, drawing all attention to himself, “Y/n-Hyung does! You play the violin don’t you?”

Y/n blinked in surprise before letting out a chuckle slip from his lips as he rubbed at his neck, “I do play the violin actually, I just don’t find the time nowadays…” He trailed off, “I really should get back into playing…” Everyone in the room nodded, slightly uncomfortable at the male's vague tone. They then moved on to the next question, What hobbies do you have? The group couldn’t help but laugh, Taewoos standing out the most. The second oldest went on to mention that sleep and eating were at the top of everyone's list due to lack of time to do things. Each member mentioned something simple afterwards to add some substance to the question; then came the second to last question.

“So this fan is wondering what soulmarks each member has?” The male host's eyebrows shooting up in surprise, “Brave question to ask, listener, let's get some answers then…”

“Well, my soulmark is quite obvious isn’t it?” Shinwa grinned, “You can’t miss it. Not every day that you see someone with a whole vine of roses stretching wrist to wrist is it?”

“Ren-hyung and I have the timer soulmark” Taewoo followed up, earning a hum from the eldest, “The only difference is that they’re in different spots. Mines is on my wrist while his is on his neck I believe”

Next was Lee “My soulmark is where whatever your soulmate draws on themselves shows up on you” He wistfully sighed out, “Pretty common and not that special.”

“Ah! I hear that you’ve met your soulmate? Are the rumours true?” One of the hosts probed, their ears turning red at the personal question.

The second youngest let out an airy chuckle at the question “We’ve never actually met in person but she does write to me every day and before every performance. However, we normally text as it’s easier” Lee couldn’t help but grin, making everyone else smile. He had been the first to meet their soulmate when he was much younger due to the very obvious direct connection to each other; he was so whipped but he didn’t care.

“Right, moving on!” The female host called out to break the overwhelmingly stuffy atmosphere, “Y/n! You’re getting older and is there still no sign of your soulmate?”

The leader couldn’t help but wince at the direct jab at his age and situation but decided to be professional and move past it; this didn’t stop his brain from recounting the moment he met his soulmate over and over again “I… still don’t know my soulmark…” He lied through gritted teeth, “I do hope to meet them soon and discuss what might have taken us so long to meet…” The tension in the room was suffocating everyone, the question a very touchy one to approach.

To break the tension as soon as possible, the hosts moved on to the next question “So the last question is quite simple” The male host coughed out as he awkwardly adjusted his headphones and mic, “Are there any particular groups you enjoy listening to?”

A few different groups were thrown around as well as some solo artists just for fun, all from the other members of Canvas; as to not be left out, Y/n jumped in with his thoughts “I quite like NCT and Bts” He spoke as he rubbed at his chin, “They have quite the variety of genres and its nice to listen to.” Gasps filled the room, making Y/n blink in confusion.

“Y/n-ssi...” The female host spoke, hand over her mouth, “You like Bts? Even with the comparisons made of you and Suga-ssi? How?”

The male couldn’t help but grit his teeth as he brought the microphone closer to his lips “I don’t know where this idea of us being rivals came from?” He began, eyes fiery, “I don’t understand the notion of rivalry in the idol industry as it likely does more harm than good. I’d like to meet with Suga-sunbae one day but I think it’d be awkward due to the supposed ‘relationship’ of rivalry we have as portrayed by the media…” Y/n stopped to take a deep breath, rubbing at his temples in an attempt to calm down.

The silence in the room was deadly, one breath in and you might just die from suffocation. Both hosts let out awkward and forced coughs to break the silence before deciding that now was the time to end the interview; the members said their goodbyes and made their way to to the van that would take them home. In the van, their manager looked Y/n in the eyes and shook his head in disappointment. He let the male know that it was his turn to do a V-live and to not have an outburst or say anything stupid tonight as he did back in the radio station. Y/n simply nodded and sat there in silence for the rest of the journey.

Once home, the group sat at the table to have some food, silence aching and pulling on their minds. It wasn’t till the end of the meal that one of the members decided to speak up about what just happened “So…” Ren began quietly, his tone pointed and on edge, “What was that about Y/n?”

Y/n winced at the tone of his hyungs voice, the words digging into him like knives “It was nothing, it doesn’t matter” he fired back

“Didn’t seem like nothing to me…”

“Well, it was! So just-” the volume of his voice spiked before coming back down, “- leave it will you?” The other members at the table glanced between each other, they knew the topic would be touchy after the interview and they were all curious about what had happened; it was just that none of them wanted to ask about it. As Ren kept probing into the issue, The youngest looked as if he was about to cry while Lee and Taewoo tried to look for a moment to diffuse the situation. Suddenly, Y/n stood up, his chair scraping against the floor, and slammed his hands on the table;

“Look! If you want to know so bad, fine!” He seethed, “I can’t cope with this! It’s all so new to me while everyone here has had time to come to terms with it. I don’t wanna hear anything anymore so I’m going upstairs to do the live. Goodnight!”  And then he left, not bothering to clean his plate up or take it to the kitchen.

In his room, Y/n took a moment to calm down and then began to set up his camera for the v-live; he sat at his desk with all his art supplies and then hit the broadcast button. He let the view count go up for a while and greeted a few people as they greeted him. The male then took a proper look at the comments, noting the ones that asked where the other members were and the ones in English, picking one out to answer “M/n-ie you were on the radio today right?” he read out in a higher-pitched voice, “You’re right! I was indeed. I hope you all enjoyed it?”

The comments set off like crazy, ignoring all the questions that asked about his soulmate, instead choosing to show them the drawing he had worked on a few days ago. He lifted his sketchbook to show the camera and began to talk about it, not noticing the page beginning to move and show the drawing he made last night. The comments went crazy and it took a moment for Y/n to notice. His eyes scanned the comments closely before flitting up to his sketchbook, panic taking over his tired eyes.

He didn’t know what to do, everyone had seen it so what should he do? He couldn’t just play it off as if he didn’t see it or that it wasn’t there; he was so lucky that he didn’t draw facial features otherwise he would have been done for. Y/n could feel the cogs turning in his head. “I… uhhhh…” Y/n drawled out, mind trying to come up with words, “I d-drew this last night? Yeah! I drew this last night because it came to me in my dreams” His eyes scanned the gentle features of the drawing, silently critiquing the drawing at the same time.

“It was weird, I was there and someone else was too…” The comments began showing up like crazy, so many asking if his soulmark might be the soulmate dream room type and that he had only just found out. Y/n shook his head, his eyes suddenly absent of any emotion “It couldn’t be my soulmark type, there's no way that someone who's like a rival to me would be my soulmate. It was just a stupid dream…”

His words barely noted in his mind, but he did pick up on them; Y/n decided that then would be a good time to end the live before he did anything else that might be controversial or stupid. He said his goodbyes, shut down the live and went to bed, choosing to turn his phone on silent in an attempt to stop the constant notifications that appeared on his phones dull screen.

#Admin Tea #bts x reader #bts x male reader #poly bts x reader #poly bts x male reader #bts #bangtan #bangtan soneyondan #kim taehyung #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #park jimin #min yoongi #jeon jungkook #jung hoseok #(He's my soulmate unfortunately) #yoongi x reader #yoongi x male reader #bts social media au #bts soulmate au #soulmate au

[malereader-inserts]

Need You Now

Fandom: Avengers Pairing: Tony Stark & Son!Reader Summary: Tony is a lonely man, despite being in a crowd, he’s missing a void in him. Word Count: 1,334 Request: “Hi could I request a songfic of (I need you now by Lady Antebellum) for Dad Tony?” A/n: this is a BANGER of a song, I grew up with my mum blasting it in the car. I was going to do it Infinity War compliant or at least Endgame but I thought maybe not.

You and your dad had a great relationship

The last time you had seen him was after the Ultron fiasco, you had gotten in an argument with him, as much you hated what he had done you completely understood. You were only trying to protect your dad, you were only trying to make him stop taking all the blame. You had defended him, Bruce was also responsible, Wanda was the insinuator, but he got angry.

“I don’t want you to get hurt any more by them,” You softly spoke to him as he tinkered away in the lab, “They’re using you dad, for your money, for your repairs, for the shelter.”

“Kid,” He spoke with a deadpan expression, “I get it that you’re trying to protect me, but I don’t need protection.”

“Dad-”

“Leave it.”

There was silence between the two as you abruptly stood up, scraping the stool as you made.

“You protect everyone, who’s going to protect you?” He looks up from his repairs to see you at the doorway, watching him intently, “Love you dad.”

“Love you too,” Tony pauses before there was a slight tup upwards to his lips, “son.”

He didn’t need anymore mess and he had promised to try and be civil with the new recruits who haven’t been treating him nicely. You tried to help him, but he pushed you away and one day you just left him a note.

A note saying you needed a break, you don’t know how long but you couldn’t take it anymore, watching your dad break and refusing your help. So, you decided to be selfish, you couldn’t, you wouldn’t be trapped in New York anymore.

It had been two years since he’s seen you, but that was enough for him at least defend himself when the Accords had happened. He hoped that you had heard the civil war between the Avengers, he was the man who defended the people, the one who had tried to stop Steve.

So, here he sits, trying to enjoy his life as best as he could. He had everything, a loving and powerful fiancée, his two loyal idiotic best friends, another son figure in his life, Pepper told him to stop taking in children because now Peter’s join the family, he’s got Harley, Vision and Friday as children and it’s stressful, but he can’t help how his mind wanders back to you.

The day had been grand, his birthday was today and he spent it with his family. Though, he seems empty as you weren’t celebrating it with him for the second time in a row. He sits in his lab, whilst everyone else is asleep, he’s still awake in the lab.

He’s sitting on the floor, with pictures scatted on the floor, picture books, albums of pictures of you and him. Of you growing up, every birthday documented, every bad haircut and Halloween costumes all pictured memories. He smiles wistfully at the photos that had you holding some kind award or any inventions you created when you were growing up.

He’s got magnitudes of pictures of your sports game, pictures of him and you, pictures of pictures and seems so lonely. Nothing was filling up that void that was open for you to fill again. 

He sighs as he looks at his phone, grabbing it slowly and unlocking it. The lock screen was him and Pepper but swiping it to the home screen there was a picture of you. Just you, sitting across him in one of the little diners you and he go to for Sunday bonding. 

Pancakes on your plates, you smiling at the camera like an idiot under neon pink lights. He was blessed to have you as a son. Taking a moment to process your picture - he wonders if you remember him if he ever crosses your mind because you’re always in his mind.

He clicks on the phone button, your number being the most dialled number. It rings three times before voicemail plays. He sighs and hangs up, after the first few days without you he had been flooding your voicemails now he’s given up. 

“Sir,” FRIDAY’s voice had rung softly, “There’s something-”

“Not now, Fri,” Tony grumbles as he gets himself off the floor and sits on the metal stool in his lab, “Not now.”

He reaches over for the whiskey bottle, he pours himself a glass. Holding it in his hand as he leans back on the seat, he stares at the door he had last saw you. The last time he ever saw you, you were only trying to talk sense into him.

He wishes you just opened that glass door with a grin on your face, before talking so quickly that he could barely process the new idea of a project you have just suggested. He missed how you sweep into his lab before he teasingly reminds you that you have your own space so you didn’t need to infiltrate his space.

It’s quarter to one, he’s a little drunk but he needs you now. And he said to himself he couldn’t call again but he picked up his phone again. His left hand supporting his dizzy head as his right hand was fidgeting with his phone, his phone vibrating as your name was on his phone.

“Hey, this is (Y/n) Stark, leave a voice mail!”

And again he hangs up.

He wishes he could just leave it in the past, trying to forget that you felt, trying not to hope that you would return. And he rather hurt than become numb to it all. Who protects you? He protects you, that’s all he’s ever known since you were born, to love, to cherish you. To protect you from everything, the media, the threats. Who protects him?

You, he’d like to think it’s you. You are his son, his blood and before Pepper, it was only you and him. Before the Avengers, it was just you and him. You, who supported his superhero alter and helped him adapt his suits. You, who defended him when Steve and he got in a nasty argument. You, who had openly welcome Bruce with opening arms and helped him around the workshop but had gently reminded him about your dad.

He was about to pour himself another glass of whiskey until he had heard a voice.

“You know, if Rogers doesn’t kill you, alcohol will most like will,” Tony looked up from his glass to see you at the doorway, “I’m a few hours late to your birthday but hey, I’m still here right?”

“(Y/n)...” He breathes out.

“Hey dad,” You smiles as you watch him take big strides to engulf you into a hug, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, son,” Tony had gripped you tight, almost unbelieved that you were standing in front of him, “You and I have a lot to catch up.”

“Dad-” You pulled away, looking nervous almost scared, and Tony knew what was up.

“No, we’re not having that discussion now, maybe tomorrow where I’m not currently drunk and tired,” Tony soothes out, but takes a large exhale, “But, there is so much we need to catch up like Pep and I are getting married.”

“I know,” You smile, “I saw the press conference, how did she react after the press? You know after she cried on live tv?”

“She wasn’t happy but she could forgive me just this once.”

“So, Spider-man?” You questioned with a raised eyebrow and an easy going smile.

Tony pats you on the shoulder with a beaming smile. Whilst there are so many things to talk about, that could be dealt with in the morning, but for now, he’s just content is talking your ear off like you used to do with him. He pulls you to the stools of his lab, maybe Pepper could excuse their sleeping behaviour just this one time.

“You’re going to love the kid, (Y/n), he’s a big fan of you...”

#tony stark #tony stark imagine #tony stark x male!reader #x male reader #platonic #Avengers #avenger imagines #avengers imagine

[youngbloodseavey]

stay golden // corbyn besson

this is my “thank you for 2k followers” post. i’d like to say thank you, because i never thought this would ever be happening when i started this blog. thank you guys for supporting me and this blog, even when i don’t post or i don’t follow through with my projects. thank you. thank you for 2k. it means the absolute world and more to me. i love each and every one of you with my entire heart and more.

request: Requests are open! Yay! I have some requests that I've been storing up  just waiting for this moment. So let's say that Corbyn had this childhood friend who was also his neighbour and one day when they're like 14/15 she moves to the other side of the country and they get disconnected. She always had a crush on him and so when she finds out he's on tour like 4/5 yrs later she gets limelight tickets bc wow she doesn't think he remembers her and then they reconnect and like probably fluff who knows         

i have no fuckin idea how limelight works so like bare with me kids, and also corbyn is SINGLE in this story. S I N G L E. christina is not corbyn’s girlfriend in this story so keep that in mind tHANKS

pairing: corbyn x fem!reader

triggers: none

“why do you have to leave me?” corbyn pouted at his best friend y/n, as they laid together in the grass fields by their houses. 

the fifteen year-olds had been best friends since diapers, and had found out recently that y/n had to move all the way across the country from their home in virginia to california.

“corbs, i don’t want to move. i wanna stay here with you, and graduate, and live my life here in virginia. but my dad got this new fancy-ass job, and i can’t get out of moving,” y/n rolled over onto her stomach, now facing her blue-eyed best friend.

“trust me, the last thing i want to do right now is to leave,” she whispered, feeling the familiar sting of tears rush through her, and her eyes became watery.

“no, please don’t cry y/n,” corbyn rushed out, immediately sitting up and taking the girl into his arms. “if you cry then i’m gonna start crying.”

 the two teenagers held each other in an embrace for what felt like an eternity, not even bothering to speak to each other. all they did was enjoy each other’s presence, because soon they wouldn’t be seeing each other for a long time.

“i love you so much corb,” the girl whispered, burying her face into corbyn’s shoulder. she took in a deep breath, inhaling the intoxicating scent that was her best friend. 

“i love you too y/n.” corbyn was near tears, but was determined to not show his weakness to his best friend. he gently pressed his lips to her temple, lingering for a few seconds before he pulled away.

“y/n! let’s go!” the pair jumped apart at the sound of y/n’s parents, who were loading the car with their luggage. the rest of their stuff would come later in a u-haul. 

“one second mom!” y/n yelled at her parents, who were beginning to look impatient. “hey, before i leave, i wanted to tell you something that i’ve been keeping a secret for a long time,” y/n began to start, taking corbyn’s hands in hers.

the boy’s heart began to race, as he stared into the eyes of his longtime best friend (and admittedly, his longtime crush).

“i really li-” she began, but was cut off by the honk of the car’s horn, beckoning her to go to her parents.

“i’m really gonna miss you.” a sad, tearful smile painted itself on her face. “stay golden besson, because i have no doubt that one day i’m going to see you on some big fancy billboard because you have a number one album. i know i will.” she leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, squeezing his hand in hers before running off to her parents and hopping into the car. “never stop chasing your dreams. because they’ll become a reality. don’t forget me okay?”

and with a sad smile y/n y/l/n was gone, leaving a tearful corbyn besson alone in a grassy field.

||

it had been four whole years since y/n had seen corbyn. after y/n left and corbyn began to seriously pursue music, it was a bumpy ride for their friendship.

and soon enough, their friendship simply didn’t exist.

it wasn’t a malicious falling out, there was no foul words or cruel gestures. there was simply just silence. and the two of them had to deal with an empty line, a static crackle of nothingness on the other side. 

of course the thought of the other was always in the back of their minds, but both y/n and corbyn were far too scared to try and reconnect. what if what they had wasn’t the same as before?

so when y/n saw that a band called “why don’t we” was going on tour, she was immediately intrigued. and when she saw her blue-eyed ex-best friend on the front cover of the poster, only one question plagued her mind.

does corbyn remember me?

so in an attempt to answer that question and rid her head of the incessant nagging that had been continuous for the past four years, y/n took out her debit card and bought a limelight ticket to their los angeles show. 

so that’s what brought y/n here. standing near the front of the line at the venue. it was only 3:00 and there was already a line wrapped around the block, which warmed y/n’s heart to no end.

you made it corbyn, i knew you could do it.

her stomach began to tie itself in knots as time went on, each second seeming to pass on like a minute.

y/n pulled her phone out of her back pocket, her foot tapping on the pavement as she checked the time for what seemed like the thousandth occasion. 5:00. they should be letting people in for limelight soon.

she began to scroll through her phone, managing to somehow scroll deep into her camera roll. she stopped across a photo of her and corbyn from the 9th grade, smiling wistfully at their goofy grins and wide eyes. 

it was crazy to see how much had changed in four years. corbyn was now touring the world, and y/n was finishing up her first year of college. 

“oh my god, you’ve met corbyn?!” y/n was shook out of her daze by an excited voice squealing from behind her, and she turned around to see a girl no older than 16. the girl was wide-eyed and excited as ever, another girl whom y/n assumed to be her friend looking equally as hyped. y/n was irked that the two girls were looking at her phone screen without her permission, but decided to mask her irritation with a smile.

“yeah,” she began, trying to think of an excuse as to how she knew corbyn. she didn’t want people to know she was corbyn’s childhood best friend, it might cause unnecessary drama. “i met him a few years back. i’ve been a fan of him since the beginning, and i’m so insanely proud of him and i want to support him in any way possible.” well, at least she wasn’t lying. the two girls nodded.

“well what’s it like to meet him? is he nice?” one of the girls asked, and y/n began to smile. childhood memories of her and corbyn began to flood her mind, causing a warm feeling to ball up in her stomach.

“he’s the sweetest person you’ll ever meet. i miss him to absolute death, and i can’t wait to see him again.” y/n almost became choked up as she spoke, memories of her and corbyn overwhelming her mind. 

the girls opened their mouths to speak, but were interrupted by a man with a megaphone beginning to yell over the crowd.  

“people with a limelight ticket, please come to the front of the crowd! stand in front of the entrance doors, we will be letting you in very shortly.” y/n’s pulse began to race, and she said a quick goodbye to the girls she was talking to before making her way to the big, double-door entrance.  

her nerves were as high as they could be as she was let in through the doors, taking out her id for security to check and having her ticket scanned. 

soon enough, y/n found herself waiting on a couch in a large room, fifty or so fans milling about the room. her stomach was in a million knots, and she began to play with her fingers as a nervous habit.

she took out her phone and began to scroll aimlessly, checking her social media in an attempt to sway the nerves from her stomach. she couldn’t even focus on the posts and tweets she was looking at, instead her head was swarming with nervousness and thoughts.

what if he doesn’t remember me? what if we don’t click like we used to? what if he hates me?

the last thought absolutely terrified y/n. she knew that they fell out, but she didn’t hold any ill feelings towards corbyn for it. hopefully he feels the same way.

“oh my god they’re here!” y/n heard the high pitched squeal of a teenage girl, followed by a flurry of screams. they’re here. this is it.

“hey guys!” she heard a deep male voice, and she traced the voice back to a tall, brown haired boy. she recognized him as jonah, who was the oldest in the band.

y/n had decided to do some studying up on the rest of the band and their music before coming, just so she didn’t look like a complete idiot. and she had to admit, they made some damn good music.

the screams soon died down, morphing into loud conversation. the band members began to mill around, speaking to fans and taking photos. the couch y/n was sitting on was in the corner farthest from the boys, which she was grateful for.

she began to formulate four years of regret and apologies into a single sentence, which proved as hard as it sounds. 

y/n saw that the band began to come closer, talking to the fans and taking pictures. she was a few feet away from daniel, and she decided to push her nerves to the side and walked up to the blue-eyed boy, who was clad in a floral button down and black pants. 

daniel caught y/n’s eye, and finished up his conversation with the girls he was with to approach the nervous girl.

“hey there love!” daniel’s tooth-gap was on full display, his joyful aura almost immediately soothing some of y/n’s nerves. he enveloped her into a tight hug, resting his chin on top of her head. 

y/n hugged back, feeling oddly comfortable in daniel’s arms. she pulled away after a few seconds, taking in a deep breath.

“so what’s your name?” daniel asked, plopping down on the couch that y/n was previously sitting on. y/n took seat next to him sinking down into the fabric. 

“y/n,” she responded, moving herself into a comfortable position.

“well that’s a gorgeous name,” daniel responded, turning his body to face y/n. “where are you from?”

“i live in los angeles now, but i used to live in fairfax, virginia.” y/n explained her heart warming at the thought of her hometown.

“fairfax? that’s where corbyn’s from!” his bright eyes widened at the realization, and y/n nodded. “did you used to know him?” y/n nodded.

“we used to be best friends actually,” y/n mumbled, feeling a sudden amount of wistfulness wash over her.

“woah wait, really? no way,” daniel looked shell shocked. y/n nodded yet again, taking out her phone and pulling up a picture of her and corbyn from their 8th grade formal. she showed the photo to daniel, whose jaw seemed to drop even more.

“i’ve known him since we were in diapers, and we were best friends until i moved to california when we were 15,” y/n explained, pulling up another picture of her and corbyn for emphasis. “after that we kinda just, lost touch i guess.” y/n shrugged, and daniel nodded.

“so is that why you’re here? to see corbyn again?” daniel asked, and y/n moved her head up and down in a nod.

“i’m terrified though, like what if we don’t connect like we used to? i don’t know, maybe i’m overthinking things but it has been four years,” y/n trailed off, her eye catching a tuft of bright blonde hair from across the room. her heart skipped a beat at even the tiniest sight of him.

daniel was silent for a few moments, and y/n could see that the boy was deep in concentration.

“let’s go say hi to him.” daniel stood up, reaching a hand out to y/n to help her stand up from the couch. 

“w-what?” y/n stammered, her heart beginning to race.

“let’s go see him right now. you need to rip off the band-aid, and he needs a boost of confidence and energy. tour is taking a lot out of him, and maybe you’ll be the thing to give him that boost.” he replied, gesturing once more to signal for y/n to take his hand.

“fine.” she took his hand, standing up. “but if he doesn’t remember me, you have to get me out of there immediately okay?”

“deal.” daniel smiled, and began to walk with y/n over to where corbyn stood with a crowd of girls around him.

“i’ll distract the fans, you go talk to corbyn.” he gave her a bright, reassuring  smile before sauntering over to the group of fans, sending the group into a frenzy. he walked a couple steps to the right and the girls followed him and began to talk animatedly, leaving corbyn standing alone.

y/n attempted to shake the butterflies from her stomach, but to no avail.

deep breaths, deep breaths.

she walked over to corbyn, who turned to talk to another fan. she took in another breath, before raising her hand and tapping him on the shoulder.

“hey there besson.” she breathed out, staring into the same clear blue eyes that she adored so much. the same blue eyes that were filled with tears the last time she saw him four years prior.

“y/n?” his eyes scanned your face, not believing for a second what he was seeing. was this really her? was it his best friend? the girl he was so deeply in love with for practically his entire life?

he couldn’t help himself, and scooped her into a bear hug. she wrapped her legs around his waist, burying her head into the crook of his neck. he smelled of cologne, mixed with the familiar scent of him that she remembered from oh-so long ago. he smelled like corbyn.

“i missed you so much,” she mumbled feeling tears make their way to her eyes. she clung onto him like a koala bear, savoring every millisecond of the hug as if it made up for the four years of not talking to each other, and she could tell corbyn was doing the same.

“i missed you more.” his voice shook with emotion, and he too was near tears. y/n pulled away from the hug, her legs still wrapped around his waist.

“impossible.” she smiled, locking eyes with corbyn. the bright blue orbs blazed with emotion, and she could see the tears that brimmed on his lower lash line.

she looked over corbyn’s shoulder for a second, seeing that daniel was looking at the pair with a wide smile plastered on his face. he shot her a thumbs up and she laughed, burying her face in corbyn’s shoulder once more.

after a minute or so of just enjoying each other’s presence, corbyn gently set y/n down onto the ground, his hands still placed on her waist. the smallest reminder that he was still there, he was real, he wasn’t going anywhere.

“i’m so sorry for everything,” she mumbled, the tears that pooled in her eyes beginning to fall down her face in delicate strokes. “i should’ve tried harder to make our friendship work, but i gave up.”

“it’s not your fault. half of the blame is on me too. it’s both our faults, but nothing is gonna change our mistakes from the past. what’s important is that we focus on the future. our future.” he gently cupped her face in his hands, wiping away the tears with a simple stroke of his thumb.

she smiled, placing her smaller hands over his.

oh god, i really want to kiss him.

the thought ran through her head, and she almost immediately pushed it aside.

it’s been four years since you’ve seen him y/n, don’t just go kissing your old best friend and crush in front of a bunch of his fans with cellphones in their hands.

he looked into her glittering eyes, feeling the pull that he felt towards her four years prior. it was as if nothing had changed in his heart and soul.

i’ve never wanted to kiss someone more. his heart longed for her lips on his.

he slowly began to lean in, and y/n sucked in a breath and began to weigh the options in her head.

fuck it.

she leaned in, melting into his gentle touch. y/n’s eyes fluttered shut, corbyn’s doing the same. their lips were four inches apart.

three inches.

two inches.

one inch.

“okay guys!” y/n and corbyn jumped apart, both blushing a bright crimson. they had failed to notice the crowd that had formed a circle around the pair. “sadly it’s time for us to go, but we want you all to know that we love you guys so much, and we hope you enjoy the show tonight!” jonah’s voice boomed, sending a smirk in corbyn’s direction.

“i-i guess i have to get going now,” corbyn mumbled, his hand going to rub the back of his neck.

“yeah, you probably should,” y/n began to fiddle around with her fingers, rocking back and forth gently on her heels.

“i hope you enjoy the show, i’ll see you after? i can send someone out to come find you, so you can come backstage if you want?” he proposed, and y/n’s heart set alight.

“i’d love that,” she smiled shyly at the blonde boy. “break a leg besson.”

“see you later y/l/n.” he paused for a beat. “i hope i make you proud.” he bent down and pressed a soft kiss on her cheek, the spot where his lips touched tingling after he pulled away.

he shot her another heart-melting smiled before walking away, a bounce in his step.

i have no doubt that you’ll make me the proudest i’ve ever been when i see you up there corbyn. i always knew you’d make it.

#why don't we #Why Don’t We #whydon'twe #whydontwe #why don't we x reader #why don't we imagines #why don't we imagine #whydontweimagine #whydontweimagines #wdw #wdw imagine #wdw imagines #wdwimagines #wdw boys #corbyn besson #corbynbesson #corbyn besson x reader #corbyn besson fluff #corbyn #besson #corbyn besson imagine #corbynbessonimagine

[queenofthemindynasty]

Even If You Say ‘No’ - pt 6

Pairing: Hoseok x Fem!Reader

Summary: {Y/n}, a brilliant, young producer at BigHit Entertainment, tends to be overly self-critical of her work and scarcely gives herself credit when it’s due. Hoseok, A.K.A. J-Hope of BTS, puts so much effort into keeping up the spirits of the other members, he hardly has time to worry about his own well being. What will happen when the two cross paths?

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Idol Universe

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1929

A few days after Hoseok and {Y/n} had decided to start a secret relationship, they both realised they hadn’t thought a lot through. They both wanted to go on dates, but how were they going to do that? He was an idol. He couldn’t be seen in public with a girl unless he wanted the media chasing after him even more than they already were. It was a shame. If he weren’t stuck in this position, he could have taken her on all kinds of dates. He could have taken her out to eat, to visit the beach, or even to an amusement park just to name a few. But on the day he’d agreed to become a trainee for BigHit, he’d made a decision. Besides, their choices for dates weren’t nonexistent. They still had some options available. 

A little over a week later, luck had come over to their side. And as luck would have it, the members and staff were being given three days off to do whatever they wanted. This was the norm for prior to every comeback: they were given some time off before the new album would drop. It was like the calm before the storm. Tear would be released in four days time, so now everyone got to enjoy a short break before the chaos of promotions began. This provided the perfect opportunity for the two of them to spend some time together. They’d agreed for him to come by her place for an afternoon to do a bit of movie watching. It wasn’t the most exciting plan, but it was what they could manage. And in fact, it was more than enough just being able to see each other outside of work. 

Hoseok navigated the hallways of the apartment complex that {Y/n} had directed him to. As it turned out, it wasn’t as far from the members’ dorms as he’d expected, only a fifteen-minute drive away. This would make coming over in the future much easier. 

Reaching the door bearing the number she’d written down for him, he gave it a few knocks. Three or four seconds passed, and {Y/n} was opening the door with a bright smile and flustered mannerism. “Hey, Hobi!” she greeted, stepping away from the door in an invitation to come in. 

He removed his sunglasses and pulled down the mask that were hiding his face. “Hey!” He took his shoes off at the entrance before following her. 

“Do you want something to drink?” She started walking towards the kitchen. “Tea? I just made some.”

“Sure!”

He sat down in one of the chairs in the dining area beside the kitchen. The apartment had a quiet atmosphere about it. The living room, kitchen, and dining area were all connected with no walls separating them. The white walls and furniture were unimposing and welcoming. In the living area, a modern, blue-striped rug was laid out. The cream-coloured sofa had a fleece blanket strewn across the back of it. Next to the television was a wooden bookcase filled with novels and other knick-knacks, and DVDs took up the bottom row. 

“So how’s your day off been going so far? What’ve you been up to?”

“Oh, um, nothing much,” she answered. “Just relaxing mostly. I got to—err…there’s this book that I started reading months ago, but hardly ever had the chance to read since I’ve been so busy. So that’s…something I’ve been doing today.” She ended the sentence with an exaggeratedly bubbly rising pitch. She was nervous. She probably wasn’t used to this kind of thing. 

He nodded. “That does sound nice. What kinds of books do you read?”

“Mostly the classics. Right now, I’m reading Through the Looking-Glass by Lewis Carroll. His works are so unlike anything else. The way his mind worked…” She sighed wistfully. “It’s just otherworldly. I think it’s fascinating.” To his relief, she seemed to relax while talking about literature. She now had two steaming cups, one in each hand, which she placed on the coffee table in the living room, Hoseok following. “What movie do you want to watch?”

He swirled his tea around in the cup and shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m up for anything. Why don’t you pick?” Really he was here just to spend time with her anyway. 

“Okay…” She scanned the row of DVDs. “How about this?” She turned around, showing him the case. It was a horror film. “I’ve been meaning to watch this one. I hear it’s really good” There were stars twinkling in her eyes as she spoke. 

He froze. Everyone talked about this film. It was supposed to be one of the scariest Korean horror films of the decade. {Y/n} really liked watching this kind of thing? “Uhm…” 

“Oh, wait. You don’t really like horror, do you?” The stars in her eyes started to burn out. “Sorry. We could watch something else. I don’t know why I even thought about watching that one…” She started to put it back on the shelf. 

“No, wait!” 

She turned back around to face him. 

“I mean, we can watch that one if you want. I don’t mind.”

She looked at the case in her hands, then back at him. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. It’s just a movie, right?” He gave a rather unconvincingly lighthearted chuckle. He thought back to all the times he’d made a coward of himself on camera. She’d no doubt seen every one of those. She needed to see that he was someone capable of protecting her. He wasn’t as much of a coward as everyone thought. 

“Well,” she shrugged, “okay then.” After putting the disc into the player, she sat on the couch next to him, sipping her tea. This couldn’t be that bad, right?

It was bad. So bad, it had Hoseok jumping out of his seat screaming at every jump scare. Once it was so severe that he’d nearly knocked over the sofa. He tried to keep his eyes open the whole time, but it was impossible when there were literally people being eaten alive. Even more embarrassing was that {Y/n} had started holding onto him protectively, trying to help him be less afraid. The zombies just looked so realistic even though he knew they didn’t really exist and couldn’t bring himself or her any harm. His heart was pounding probably three quarters of the time. So many of the characters had been fated to die horribly. It should have been impossible for anyone to actually enjoy this. Why on earth were people so obsessed with zombies anyway? By the end, he was trying to remember why he’d agreed to watch this. 

Finally, the credits started rolling, and his tense muscles relaxed. “That was…fine. Not nearly as bad as I expected,” he faked. 

{Y/n} laughed at the way he was still clinging onto her. When had he started doing that? “It wasn’t, huh?” He frowned at her, pushing himself off of her arm. She eventually stopped her giggling, turning to look at him. “Sorry I made you sit through that. Why don’t you pick the next one?”

He smiled at her in relief. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” she grinned, a hint of a giggle still left in her words, which he frowned at. 

After taking a look at her selection, he decided on a Studio Ghibli film that he hadn’t had the chance to see. Anyone could enjoy those. But after a while of it playing, even though she was trying not to make it obvious, he could tell this wasn’t a movie she was particularly interested in. Not but halfway in, she was leaning her head on his shoulder, staring at her empty cup on the table, absent from the rest of the world. Some time after that, she closed her eyes, and now she was completely still against him. He felt his heart flutter at just seeing her there beside him. She was so vulnerable. It was so surreal seeing her with her guard completely lowered like this for once; it was like she’d turned into a completely different person. She’d never been this at ease around him before. 

Twenty or so minutes later, the credits once again appeared on the screen. Hoseok was just considering whether or not to wake her up when he heard her speak. 

“Hobi?”

He jumped slightly. “Oh, my gosh. I thought you were asleep.”

“I almost was,” she answered drowsily, slowly blinking her eyes open. “Do you—Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

She shifted against his shoulder. “Do you…honestly think I’m talented?”

His lips made a straight line at hearing this. There was no question that he did. She was extremely talented. There was so much that she’d brought to their music since she’d started working for their company. But she had no idea. Knowing her, the fact that she was even asking him meant her value and belief in her creations were on the verge of collapsing entirely and relied solely on his answer. “Of course I do. You’re one of the most talented people I know.”

“Besides you,” she added inwardly. Her eyes never left her cup sitting on the table. 

“Well…” He thought for a moment, picking his words carefully. “You and I just have different talents. But that doesn’t mean I’m any more talented than you are.” She nodded, her head still on his shoulder, though he had a feeling she still wasn’t fully convinced. “That also means you shouldn’t compare yourself to me. I don’t want you looking down on yourself just because you look up to me. There are so many things you’re better at doing than I am.”

“Like what?”

He let out something between a scoff and a laugh. “Well, writing songs, for one thing. My mixtape wouldn’t even have been half as good if you hadn’t contributed so much to it.” 

She fell silent. Her blank expression was making it difficult to tell what she was thinking or whether or not his words had even reached her. She was still staring off into space. 

“You know, you could make your own mixtape if you wanted,” he mused, mimicking her gaze. “You have everything you need. You used to rap and sing before you became a producer, didn’t you? You could make the whole thing from start to finish then. It might take a while, but you could do it. And you know you’d have my and the other members’ support. There’s nothing stopping you, really. The sky’s the limit.” P.D. Bang likely wouldn’t have a problem with it if it were just a one-time thing. “Probably doesn’t matter that you’re just a producer.” Hoseok couldn’t help but imagine the possibilities. Sea Beats, solo artist, one-hit wonder. “What do you think?”

A few seconds, and he was answered by silence. 

“{Y/n}?”

Her eyes were closed now, and her breathing had leveled off. She was definitely asleep this time. It was still early afternoon. And yet it wasn’t difficult to imagine that she kept herself up for hours at night, every day of the week. 

Hoseok took the blanket from the back of the sofa and laid it over her tranquil form. It wouldn’t be a crime to let her nap on him for a little while. 

 A week or so later, Hoseok received an email from {Y/n} titled ‘Might go into a mixtape one day?’ There was a .wav file attached. The message above it read, “It’s just a sketch, but what do you think?”

#my writing #fanfic #bts #bts fanfic #bts x reader #jhope x reader #hoseok x reader #angst #fluff #idol universe