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trashyswitch · 3 years

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Dark Interrogations (With a Light Spin)

Roman gets interrogated for the robbery of a hoodie, a hat and a deodorant. Remus, Janus and Virgil work together to make Roman confess to his crimes and admit as to their location...

This has the 'tickle interrogation' trope going for it so if you're uncomfortable with that, I am very sorry. There are also some swear words, so you have been warned.

This fanfic goes out to @smileheart110 on Tumblr. Link

This fanfic also goes out to @kennabelee because I wanna. XD

So Smileheart and Kenna, I hope you both (and others) enjoy!

A pair of high heels could be heard echoing through the room...a paper was shuffled with...and a pencil was heard being used despite the pitch black darkness.

“Roman ‘Princey’ Sanders…” Someone said.

The name called, hummed in confusion as he registered who the voice belonged to.

“...What in royalty are you doing, Library boy?” Roman asked.

“Oh...Right I forgot he could recognize our voice.” The person admitted.

“We have the same voice.” Someone else said.

“I’m gonna turn on the liiiight~” someone else said before switching on a lamp. Roman squinted at how surprisingly bright the lamp was. He expected one of those modern lights with the slow build up to brightness. You know, the eco-friendly ones? But nope. Not here. The voices of the ‘strangers’ didn’t always have a green thumb.

Roman looked up at the faces that were staring him down. One of them was holding a clipboard and a pencil. Another one was holding pieces of paper. And the last one was giving him the death glare with a small box in his hand.

“Welcome to the interrogation room. You can refer to me as Deceit...Or Janus, if you want to.” Janus started.

“You can refer to me as Virgil...I prefer it that way. No ‘emo’, no ‘panic at the everywhere’, and no ‘kitty cat’ either. I’ve heard you and your list.” Virgil warned.

“And I’m starving.” Remus admitted.

Virgil sighed. “Remus we know.” Virgil growled.

“Can we hurry this up?” Remus asked. “I haven’t had my hourly deodorant because SOMEONE STOLE IT!” Remus smacked his hand onto the desk to scare him.

But hilariously enough, Roman didn’t even flinch. “Awww, boo hoo.”

Remus looked at Janus. “Can I slap him with your heel?” Remus asked.

“NO.” Janus and Virgil both shot back.

“Dammit…” Remus muttered.

“Heel?!” Roman looked down and sure enough, Janus was wearing heels. “...Huh…”

“Eyes up here asshole.” Virgil ordered. “Where are our things?” Virgil asked.

“What things?” Roman asked, pretending to be naive.

Virgil slammed a paper onto the table, revealing the hoodie...But the picture used to represent it, looked really poor quality.

Roman smirked. “Did you get that from clipart or something?” Roman asked.

Janus sighed. “It was the best we could do. Please stay focused.” Janus told him.

“Where is it?!” Virgil asked.

“Chill out man! I didn’t mess with your hoodies!” Roman reacted.

“It’s ONE hoodie, and it’s MISSING. And you’re the only one dumb enough to take it.” Virgil spat.

“Emo.” Roman spat back with a smirk.

“Prick in my ass.” Virgil shot back.

“Oooooh! Okay, boogeyman~” Remus teased.

“Ew!” Virgil turned to Remus. “Don’t you dare use your serial killer references on me!” Virgil ordered.

“Sorry, sorry…I’m just hangry…” Remus admitted.

“Really? What a surprise…” Janus muttered.

Roman chuckled. “Someone should make a tv show based on all of you.” Roman reacted.

“Brooklyn 99 is the equivalent of that already.” Virgil reminded him.

Virgil placed another paper down. “What about this? Where is it?” Virgil asked.

Roman sighed and looked down. This time, it was a picture of deodorant...but it had a leaf on the label with the word ‘Peppermint’ on the front. Roman guffawed. “No, I haven’t seen Remus’s ‘peppermint’ deodorant!” Roman laughed.

Janus blinked and checked the label. “Oh...Oops.” Janus admitted. “Anyway-” Janus placed the paper down. “You know what we really mean in this situation. Where is it?” Janus asked.

“I don’t know. I thought you hid it with your magic?” Roman replied, looking at Remus.

Janus sighed. “And as you can tell, this:” Janus showed a colored picture of Roman holding his hat, with the bowler hat circled with a red marker. “Where is my hat?”

Roman giggled and changed his voice. “Look! I’m Woody! Howdy Howdy Howdy!” He imitated.

Janus snapped his fingers and pointed at him. “AHA! So you DID steal it!” Janus declared. “And that means you stole everything else TOO!” Janus yelled.

“Whaaaat...if I was simply making a reference?” Roman asked.

“You weren’t.” All three interrogators said at the exact same time.

Roman’s smirk dropped. They really could read through his tricks…

“Where’s. Our. Stuff. Roman?” Janus asked, leaning forward to glare at Roman closely.

“Up. Your. Scaled. Tushy.” Roman spat back.

“Alright get the tools.

“Tools?! Seriously?!” Roman reacted.

“Yes, of course! We need to scare our thief into confessing to their most evil crimes known to man!” Remus told him. “Stealing. Our. Precious. Props.” Remus told him.

Virgil pulled out a toothbrush and clicked a button to turn it on. The electric tooth brush started humming and vibrating, leaving Roman confused. “You’re...gonna brush my teeth to death?” Roman guessed.

Virgil giggled evilly. “Think again, Ro.” While Janus held Roman’s hands behind his back, Virgil walked closer to Roman, pulled up a stool and brought the humming toothbrush closer to Roman’s belly button.

The toothbrush had only lowered a couple inches from his belly, when Roman started whining and biting his lip. “Ohohoho noho, you’re worse than yzma.” Roman muttered with a slight wobbly smile growing onto his lips.

“So...Where...is our stuff Ro?” Virgil asked.

“I-I don’t know!” Roman replied.

It was then that Roman SCREAMED and wiggled around as the toothbrush landed right into his belly button.

“I hope you like tickles, Princey~” Virgil teased. “Cause this is gonna last a while if you don’t confess.” Virgil added.

“WAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NAHAHAT THEHEHEHERE! NOT THEHEHEREHEHEHE!” Roman begged already.

“Woooow! Begging already?” Remus reacted. “I’m surprised! You can defeat a giant dragon witch, but you can’t handle a little tickwing to the bewwy button?” Remus teased.

Roman tugged on his arms to try and get out as his belly button was tormented with only a single little circular toothbrush. Man, being ticklish sucked right now!

Virgil stopped the electric toothbrush, but kept the toothbrush in his belly button. While this was happening, Janus leaned into Roman’s ear and clicked his tongue. “You gonna tell me where the stuff is?” Janus asked softly.

Roman felt tingles down his spine from both the hot air against his ear, and the super soft voice Janus was using.

Roman looked towards the ear Janus was whispering into. “Jeez, you could do an ASMR video or an ASMR channel if you wanted to! Holy crap!” Roman reacted.

“Answer the question.” Janus ordered with a more stern voice.

Roman looked at Virgil and Remus. “Guys...I seriously don’t know.” Roman told them.

“He’s lying. Vir-”

“Way ahead of ya, Jan.” Virgil pulled out a huge fan brush, turned on the electric tooth brush and used both items on Roman’s belly button region.

“NOOOOOHOHOHOHOHAHAHAHAHAHA! VIHIHIRGIHIHIHIL STAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Roman pleaded.

Janus smirked as he leaned in, and blew cold air onto his neck. Roman squealed and curled his neck, throwing his head back in the process. “JAHAHAHAN!” Roman begged.

Then, Janus grabbed a feather and started tickling up and down Roman’s spine. “EEEEEK! WAHAHAHAIT NOHOHOHOHO! NAHAHAHAT THEHEHEHERE!”

“Hey Remus...Do you wanna have some fun?” Virgil asked before turning off the toothbrush. Janus stopped the feather and looked at Remus with curious eyes.

Roman took the time to breath in and out as much as he could before the tickling started up again.

“Sure! And I know just the spot~” Remus grabbed a foot rest, placed it between Roman’s lower legs, and tied Roman’s legs to the bars on the sides of the foot rest.

Roman shrieked and tried to lift the foot rest, but a 50 pound dumbbell had been tied to the bottom of the foot rest as well! “NO! YOU’D BETTER NOT PULL THAT ANKLE-BREAKING MOVE FROM MISERY!” Roman shouted at him.

Virgil and Janus widened their eyes at each other while Remus wheezed. “Look around the room, you dumbass! There’s no sledgehammers anywhere here!” Remus reacted through his laughter.

“Except for in the closet…” Virgil muttered.

Remus hummed. “Wait what?”

“There actually is one in the closet…” Virgil muttered again.

Roman let out an ear-piercing SCREAM in horror. “OH FUCK! OH SHIT NO! REMUS YOU DO THAT, AND I’M DIVORCING YOU AS A FUCKING BROTHER-”

“Hey Janus, do you have an extra hand to cover up his mouth?” Remus asked casually...too casually.

Janus nodded and covered up his mouth. With Roman’s screams covered up enough to focus, Remus got up to do his thing. He walked to the closet, grabbed out the sledge hammer and made a large portal. Roman was still breathing heavily and freaking out. But Remus gave the sledgehammer a heave, and threw it into the portal. A loud “OW!” could be heard from within the portal before it was closed up.

“There! No more sledgehammer, and no more scared Roman.” Remus told him.

Roman’s scared face lessened dramatically as he registered the lack of a sledgehammer.

“You can uncover his mouth now.” Remus told Janus. Janus nodded and uncovered his mouth as Remus walked back over. “Now what I was ACTUALLY gonna do...” Remus sat down onto the foot rest, and scooted a bit closer. “Was this:”

Remus reached his hand out and started tickling the inside of Roman’s thigh. Roman widened his eyes, gasped in surprise, and leaned his head to the side as the craving to laugh filled his lungs. Roman tried to hold them back as best he could...But the moment the fingers reached the lower thigh, it was all over.

“EEEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEK! NOHOHOHOHO! NONONO! NOTTHETHIGHS! HAHAHAHANDS AWAHAHAHAY!” Roman begged.

“Only if you confess to taking our stuff…” Remus reminded him as he moved his fingers to the other thigh.

“BAHAHAHAHAHA! NAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OKAYOKAHAHAHAHAY! FIHIHIHINE!” Roman finally yelled.

Virgil smiled eagerly as Remus stopped his fingers. “Well?”

“Fihihihine...Yohohou wihihihin…*huff* I… *huff* I took ‘em…. *huff* *huff* Took ‘em all.” Roman finally admitted.

Remus smiled proudly and cheered. “YAAAAAY! I did it!” Remus declared.

“Totally didn’t see that coming…” Janus lied with a smirk.

“But wait:” Virgil looked at Roman. “Where did you put them?” Virgil asked.

Remus stopped cheering and looked at him. That was a good question! Where DID he put them?

Roman shook his head. “You said you’d let me go if I confessed. I confessed, so you need to let me go.” Roman told them.

“That’s why we have a tape record-” Virgil looked over at the tape recorder and noticed there was no tape in the tape recorder…

Virgil growled in pure frustration and anger the moment he heard crunching plastic on the other side of the table. Remus had moved himself to the other side of the table and…

..was eating the cassette tape.

“Whath? I goth hungryyy!” Remus reacted. “I’ff been hungry’fr hourth!” Remus added.

“And you couldn’t ASK FOR A BREAK?!” Virgil shouted.

Remus swallowed. “Mm mm. Go on. Keep going.” Remus told them, waving his hand to move them along.

Virgil sighed and looked at Roman. “Are there times you don’t associate with him?” Virgil asked.

Roman nodded. “All the time.” He replied. Rokman yelped as the circular spinning piece from the cassette tape smacked against his forehead. “OW!” Roman yelled.

“Thorry!” Remus reacted.

Virgil grabbed out another item from the tool box. “How about some oil?” Virgil asked.

OH HELL NAW!

Roman squeaked and wiggled around. “Uh uh! No way! Absolutely not! Get that stuff away from me!” Roman threatened.

Virgil giggled and poured some oil into his belly button.

“NOOOOOO!” Roman begged. Virgil grabbed a silicone oil brush from the tool kit, and started brushing and spreading the oil across his whole belly. Roman giggled and snorted as the brush moved everywhere across the regular skin, AND the shiny oiled skin. Whenever the brush would go across the oiled skin, Roman’s laughter would increase 10 fold, or even 20 fold! The oil made so much of a difference on Roman’s belly.

“And now for my new favorite part:” Virgil grabbed out two- TWO separate back scratchers. The metal back scratchers had paws on them rather than the usual fingers, which gave the back scratches metal claws rather than dull nails. Virgil handed one of them to Remus, and got ready to attack.

“NO...NOO PLEASE NO…” Roman pleaded.

“Where are they~” Virgil asked as he and Remus both brought the bear scratchers closer and closer to the belly.

“VIRGIL! REMUS! PLEASE! I DON’T KNOW! I! DON’T! KNOW! AAAAAAAAH!” Roman screamed and fell into loud cackles as the bear claws started scritching and scratching all over his poor, oiled belly.

“Where is it, oh ticklish prince of-”

“IHIHIHIN MYHYHY NIHIHIGHTSTAHAHAHAND! NIHIHIGHTSTAHAHAND!” Roman shouted.

Virgil widened his eyes. “Nightstand?!” Virgil reacted.

Remus got up, placed the bear claw scratcher down and sprinted to Roman’s bedroom. Roman took this moment to breath like his life depended on it. “Yohohou’re...lucky...I’m a side...otherwise...I will have...p-perished…” Roman said slowly.

Virgil laughed. “You wouldn’t have died, you drama queen.” Virgil fluffed his hair.

Janus smiled as he let go of Roman’s hands and wrote down the thief with the location of the items. “A criminal has pleaded guilty today. I say a job well done.” Janus told him. “And I mean it.” Janus clarified, telling him that he wasn’t lying.

Remus sprinted into the room with their stuff, and a mouth full of deodorant. “Hoodie!” Remus threw the hoodie to Virgil. “Hat!” Remus threw the hat frisbee style to Janus. “And MMMMMmmmmm!” Remus dug right into his deodorant like a mad man.

Virgil and Roman both bursted out laughing at Remus’s face, while Janus fixed his hat and hair. “There…” Then, Janus whipped off the high heels. “Finally! My feet can rest happy without these stupid heels!” Janus declared.

“FREE HEELS!” Remus declared, picking up the heels and sprinting out of the room.

Virgil shrieked and sprinted after him. “REMUS GIVE ME THOSE HEELS NOW, YOU ARE NOT HITTING PEOPLE WITH THEM!”

Roman bursted out laughing at their silliness and looked at Janus. “So...You gonna start that ASMR channel?” Roman asked.

Janus leaned into his ear with a smile. “Maybe~” He whispered.

Roman giggled nervously and covered his mouth. The teaser was already a huge indication that he was gonna DIE listening to Janus’s voice!

...A loud “OW! VIRGIL!” could be heard from all the way down the hall…

Those silly dark sides...

Also YES, 2 FANFICS TODAY! AREN'T YOU PROUD OF ME??? :D

#interrogation #roman and remus are twins #roman the thief #funny #humor #ticklefic #ler!virgil #ler!remus #ler!janus #lee!roman #teases #organized crime #not really though

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suchalonelysunflower · 4 years

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“She’s got You Mesmerized” (C.H)

Pairing: Calum Hod X Reader

Requested: Yes!

Summary: Based on the song “Heather” by Conan Gray. You notice how Calum seems to fall for the new intern at the studio, even when he doesn’t realize it.

Warnings: The reader uses she/her pronouns, I’m sorry if I make anyone uncomfortable by that, it was not my intention at all. Angst with a happy ending. Language. Jealousy. Mentions of Cheating. Maybe some grammar mistakes (English is not my first language, sorry)

Word Count: 2K

Author’s Note: Requested by the lovely @rime-warrior I hope I could do it justice 💕 There are some lyrics hiding in the story. Feedback, Comments and Reblogs are always welcome! I love to hear from you guys ❤️ You can read my other works HERE. Happy reading 🦋

@rime-warrior: Hi! Can you please write an imagine with Calum based on the song “heather” by Conan gray :) (yes I am in my feelings at the moment)

Relationships are hard. You knew that. They can’t survive only on love, that would be foolish. No, you need to take compromise, to communicate, to have some sort of connection beyond the physical attraction and be respectful towards each other. But, most importantly, you need trust.

And you trusted Calum, you really did, with all your heart. He had done nothing but make you happy every single day for the past two years. Of course, dating a rockstar is not an easy thing to do, but despite the paparazzi, the fans and the constant going away on tour, you made it work.

You still remember the night that he made it official, when on a cold December night he posted that picture of you in his favorite and iconic hoodie “It looks better on her anyway” he captioned it.

It was not like him to brag about his personal life on social media, and the fact that he did that just made your relationship stronger from then on, knowing that you were in this together till the end of the line.

You were happy and in love. It seemed like nothing could penetrate the little bubble that you created for yourselves. Well, that was until her.

Calum texted you inviting you to the studio that day, saying that the two of you could grab dinner afterwards. It’s been a while since you spend some quality time with him since he came back from yet another very successful tour, so you accepted immediately. You got yourself ready, grabbed the keys to your car and drove, your heart already excited.

When you got there, however, all that emotion died down a little, your smile quivering a bit when you saw Calum sitting alone in a room with another girl. He was laughing at something she said, shaking his head amusingly as she placed her hand on his knee. You had a bad feeling about this. You didn’t know who this mystery girl was, but you knew Calum, and he would never cheat on you, would he?

Almost like he could sense your presence, your boyfriend lifted his gaze and smiled as he met yours through the big window of the booth. He quickly got up and ran towards the door, wrapping his arms around your waist and softly pecking your lips, making your thoughts fade away in his embrace.

“Hello, gorgeous” he hummed, resting his chin at the top of your head.

“Hey, handsome” You said with a smile, pulling away from him just enough so you could look him in the eyes “Ready to go?”

“Yeap. But first, I want you to meet someone”

Calum went inside the booth one more time and grabbed the girl by her hand, making her stand up and follow his way to you.

“This is Heather. Heather, Y/N”

Oh shit, she was pretty. A true sight for sore eyes . Her blue eyes contrasted perfectly with her raven black hair, she had curves in all the right places and her complexion seemed angelic. You weren’t completely sure if she was real or just a vision until she extended her hand towards you.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” Heather said shaking your hand. Smiling like a kid.

“She’s been helping us with the album” Calum said looking at her “She’s an amazing songwriter. Honestly, she puts all of us to shame!”

“Oh, please stop! Cal here is just being too nice”

“No, I’m not! I swear Y/N, she’s a genius”

They started laughing and you awkwardly joined in, not really understanding if there was joke.

“Well, I’m sure if Calum says it, then it must be true” You gently, grabbed your boyfriend’s hand and intertwined your fingers with his “It was so nice to meet you, Heather”

She smiled and said a little “likewise” before heading back to the booth. You and Calum made your way to the parking lot, and as you left the building you couldn’t help but comment “She seems nice”

“Oh, she is”

“And pretty”

“Is she?” Calum raised an eyebrow at you, making it seem like she just thought about it “Huh, guess I never noticed. Maybe it’s because I have the prettiest girl as my girlfriend” He smiled as he brought you closer to him, placing a kiss on your forehead, making your heart flutter.

Maybe he didn’t notice. But you definitely did.

Over the last couple of months, you noticed how Heather was always around. On the studio, on the casual hangouts, on the nights out and on every party.. everywhere you go there she was. Always looking like an angel and always hanging around close to Calum. Maybe even too close for your liking.

Calum was always very touchy with the people he liked. Always hugging and kissing his friends on the cheek, never afraid to show affection. And that is something you absolutely love about him, but seeing him being that affectionate with her made you feel uneasy.

You couldn’t help but feel a hint of jealousy every time he put his arm around her shoulders, or how she would playfully hold his hand to compare sizes. You didn’t know if you were mad at Heather for leaning her head on his shoulder or at Calum for letting her get that close. You knew you could trust him, but you didn’t know if you could trust her.

She was nice. Sometimes too nice, actually. Making you feel bad about having those insecure feelings running around your head. But sometimes you just couldn’t help but wish she’d leave for good. Still not trusting her at all.

As the days went by, you sit and watched your suspicions came true as her flirting became more aggressive towards your, seemingly unaware, boyfriend. Not even trying to hide it or pretend to have an ounce of respect towards you as she laid her legs across his lap, play ‘pretend fighting’, laugh way to hard at all his jokes, leaving lingering touches here and there or took a lot of selfies kissing his cheeks. Even the fans thought you guys were broken up at some point, but nobody else seemed to notice, especially Calum. Maybe you were exaggerating.

You were getting ready to go out tonight, the band had just released a new single that went straight to number one and they needed to celebrate it. You were putting on some makeup when Calum came out of the bathroom, already dressed to impress.

“Hey, Y/N. Could you take a picture of my outfit? Luke asked for it so he could figure out what to wear since he can’t decide”

You laughed and nodded at his request. Grabbing his phone from the nightstand, you quickly started taking picture after picture, giggling at your boyfriend’s absurd poses. It was in the middle of all that scene that he got a text. It wasn’t your intention to open it, but your finger clicked on it by accident.

Heather 🙃💕: Thnks for the hoodie 💕💕🥰 can’t wait to see you 2nite ❤️❤️

Attached to it there was a very provocative mirror selfie of her, wearing nothing more than his empathy hoodie. The one he gave to you or that you stole from him every time you miss him and wanted to feel close to him. Your favorite. His favorite. And, apparently, hers as well.

Calum noticed how your expression changed drastically in a matter of seconds. One minute ago you were laughing with him and now it seems like you were about to burst into tears.

“Love, is everything okay?” He asked, making you lift your head, breaking your trance from the screen. You were livid.

“I don’t know” you spat “You tell me”

Turning the screen to his face, Calum’s eyes widened as he saw the picture, grabbing the phone out of your hands.

“Why is she sending you pictures like this?”

“I- I-“

He stuttered, making your face fall in disappointment “Calum, be honest” You said defeatedly “Are you cheating on me?”

Calum snapped his head at you.

“What?! Of course not!”

“And you expect me to believe you?” You said, gesturing at the phone in his hand.

“How can you say that? Y/N this means nothing!”

“You gave her your sweater!”

“It’s a fucking piece of fabric! It’s just polyester! It’s nothing”

“It wasn’t nothing to me!” You cry, not being able to hold it in anymore “I just- I just don’t know why would you ever kiss me when she’s standing right there! Practically begging you to do it. I’m not even half as pretty or talented or anything to call your attention anymore”

“What?”

“Please, Calum. I know you like her better. I see your eyes as she walks by. I see how you look at her while I die inside, you never seem to notice me but you always notice her, and I know because some time ago you used to look at me the same way. You’re spending all your time with her, laughing at her jokes and letting her flirt with you shamelessly. She’s got you mesmerized and you don’t even realize it. I wish I were Heather, maybe that way you could love me back” You whisper that last part, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

“Y/N, that it’s not true. That is not the same way I look at you at all. I love you. Heather and I are just friends” Calum said, rubbing his hand down his face.

“Does she know that?”

“Y/N..”

“I don’t feel like going out anymore” You mutter, standing up, walking straight to the bathroom and locking the door.

As soon as you closed it, Calum was banging the door on the other side “Y/N”

“Just go, Calum”

“Fucking hell, Y/N. Don’t do this!” He was getting impatient “You’re being childish! C’mon, we’ll be late!”

“Then go! I’m not leaving”

You heard him mutter a “For fucks sake” before silence came over you two, only for it to be broken fifteen minutes later by the sound of the car driving off the street. Only then you allowed yourself to cry again.

You didn’t know how much time you spend like this, sitting on the floor with your back pressed to the hard wooden door, crying until you felt like you couldn’t cry anymore. So, slowly you got up, took all your makeup and your clothes, put on some pajamas and went to bed, not sure if Calum will be back for the night. Not sure if he will be back at all.

Tears started to burn your eyes once again and you allowed them to roll down your cheeks and stain your pillowcase. Your sobs rocking you until you drifted away in dreams.

Moments later, maybe a few hours or minutes, you were woken up by a large figure laying next to you on the bed. He was back.

Calum scooted closer to you, bringing his arms around your frame and pulling you into his embrace. He hid his head on the crook of your neck, leaving a trail of small kisses down its way.

“Cal..” You whispered. Your voice hoarse from all the crying “What are you doing?”

“You were right”

His voice sounded small, broken. Not like him at all.

You turned around in his arms, facing him in the darkness “What?”

Calum let out a sigh “You were right about Heather. She was flirting with me and I didn’t notice, but tonight she tried to make a move and kiss me…” You held your breath, not sure if you wanted to hear what he had to say next “She didn’t get to do it though, I pushed her away immediately and told her to never do that again. Next thing I know I was on my way here. On my way to you”

“Calum..”

“I’m sorry, baby. I was an idiot. I shouldn’t have invalidated your feelings the way I did, I should’ve listen. You’re the only one for me, love. I only got eyes for you, always you. You’re the only one who got me mesmerized, my everything. I’m sorry I haven’t shown it a lot lately, I’ll make it up to you”

You hummed and lifted your head so you could press your lips against him. He welcomed the kiss by placing his hand on your cheek and caressing it lightly.

“I’ll get that sweater back for you, I promise” He said, kissing your forehead.

“Oh, she can have it or you could burn it. I don’t care. I have the the only thing that matters right here, right now in my arms” He chucked at your response, bringing you closer to him.

“I love you”

“I love you, more” You hummed against his chest, breaking the comfortable silence once again after a while “Does this mean that I can say ‘I told you so’?”

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Things That Were (Branjie) - pureCAMP

A/N - … Hi.

I won’t get into it, I don’t think I need to. But here’s a return no one expected, at least.

I wrote this based on some Feelings I have and also Jinkx’s song The Auld Lang Syne Song from… Christmas Queens 3? It has this beautiful sad, wistful, nostalgic kind of feel and it made me nostalgic for love and that strange time between Christmas and New Years. Largely sad, mostly bittersweet. Dedicated to my love Ortega, and in part for the nostalgia fic challenge.

I appreciate any and all support I’ve been given over these past months.

You have a new memory from (1) years ago!

Brooke swipes across absent-mindedly. She doesn’t think much about it, they pop up all the time in the holiday season. There’s a little loading screen, decorated with animated tinsel, that flashes in her face before every ounce of breath is knocked out of her body.

This is what dying feels like. Brooke wonders if there’s a loading screen before entrance into the afterlife. She supposes it would allow the dead some time to adjust, at least.

It’s a perfect, filtered picture. The Christmas tree looks beautiful, even as the pine dies, all decked in shades of red and gold, glittering twists and lights that twinkle gently enough to lull you to sleep. It stands tall in the background of the photo, illuminating everything with a cosy glow. At the forefront of the image, Brooke is that kind of happy, sleepy, warm drunk. Full of Baileys, probably, and little mini mince pies and leftover chocolate from boxes opened and half-finished. There’s a glass of red wine behind her, slightly visible on the table. She’s cradling Henry to her chest, kissing the top of his head.

Vanessa is next to her. The remnants of plum lipstick still on her lips, grinning, Apollo in her arms. She’s beautiful. She looks and feels like how Christmas is supposed to - welcoming, kind, gentle, sweet. And Brooke knows that she’s drunk too, and right after this she burst into laughter and her foghorn voice shattered the cosiness and it was so right and so them. And she knows how her stomach had twisted horribly after they took it.

It’s perfect. She won’t share this one. It will stay in her archives. It’s really been a year, huh.

The cats look at her accusingly, as if they know. They probably do know. They know everything about Brooke. Every flaw, every fault. If they could speak, she knows they’d ask for Vanessa instead of her. Well, tough. Vanessa’s gone, Brooke thinks, almost aggressively as if she’s trying to telepathically tell them so. Vanessa’s been gone for a year.

Or has she? Vanessa isn’t the one who left. Vanessa isn’t the one who walked out without warning, who pretended the bliss was as blissful as it looked and then ran from it all. No, no, that was Brooke.

She shuts off her phone, clicks the button to make the picture fade to black. The switch from warm and bright to black is jarring. It’s probably how Vanessa felt, waking up to an empty bed.

“Brookieeeeee,” Vanessa sings. She’s grinning, cheesing so hard that her eyes have disappeared, nothing but the flicker of a fake eyelash visible from them. “Brooklyn Briiiiiidge…”

Brooke turns, laughing, and waves away the whistles and teasing mumbles from their friends. “Vanjie?”

She pushes her lips together and makes kissy noises, wordlessly begging. Brooke gently holds her chin, lifts her head, kisses. She tastes like cinnamon and nutmeg and chocolate, a festive concoction of things that Brooke usually hates but loves on her. Vanessa looks amazing in gold and she’s an Oscar from head to toe, sparkling, beautiful.

Akeria makes pointed eye contact with Brooke, then mimes gagging herself with two fingers.

Vanessa rolls her eyes, the fondness on her face so evident that it could light up the entire bar. “I love you.”

And Brooke kisses her. The kiss says what it needs to.

Christmas a whole year ago. Brooke made a series of decisions. Stupid ones, maybe. Definitely. She doesn’t know who she’s kidding.

Funny how she finds it so hard to kid herself. Apparently, she had no issue kidding Vanessa.

A little while after Silky comments that Brooke really shouldn’t still be living in the shithole apartment she rented at 20, she realises that as rude and bluntly honest it had seemed at the time, she’s right. She resolves not to mention this to Silky, in case her ego inflates too far and she flies away like Aunt Marge (she thinks this with love), and starts looking online. And it’s impossible.

So out comes the phone, because there’s only one person to go to for this. For anything. Because she’s always there and she’s always willing and she only ever wants some quality time as payment.

B: Vanjie [8.22pm]

B: Vanjerella….. [8.22pm]

B: Vanessaaaaaa [8.23pm]

V: brooke lynn hytes [8.24pm]

B: Not the full name… am I in trouble? [8.24pm]

V: do u wanna be? ;) [8.24pm]

B: Hmm… I’ll think about it… [8.24pm]

B: Anyway I need your heeeeeelp [8.24pm]

V: i gotchu boo [8.25pm]

V: what u need baby [8.25pm]

B: Cutie [8.25pm]

B: I’m going apartment hunting, help me look? Idk what to even look for [8.25pm]

V: exciting!!!!!! [8.26pm]

V: babyyyyy this is so exciting for u omg!!! I love moving [8.26pm]

V: i hope i can help!! im usually terrible at this but i think we’ll have fun!! [8.26pm]

V: although i gotta wonder what made u ask me instead of somebody smart like nina [8.27pm]

B: Ah shit, great point nvm I’ll ask her [8.28pm]

B: Jk. Asked u because ur always here visiting, may as well find something u like as well <3 [8.28pm]

V: u bout to make a bitch cry [8.29pm]

Vanessa was over in maybe ten minutes tops, Brooke remembers. It was like she could read Brooke’s mind, and she’d brought coffee for them both to keep them going and even a little bag of kitty treats from the place she’d stopped at (“a guy was sellin’ them outside and I felt a little sorry for him in the cold so I bought ‘em. They’re good, the ones you usually get!”). They were up for hours scrolling, and then searching in person just so that she could act as a second opinion.

Brooke stands up from the couch and walks slowly, heavily, towards the window. Her Christmas tree is silver this year, silver and purple, and as pretty and icy as it had seemed when she decorated it, it feels cold and desolate now. It reflects on the glass and for a moment it’s hard to focus on the world outside when the world inside is so disturbed, but she manages. Dark as it is, the lights of the city are never gone, and she has a beautiful view of a metropolitan paradise laid out beneath her.

Vanessa loved the view. She picked it, in a way. Brooke was unsure about the viewing, and Vanessa wheedled, tugging her arm and telling her she’d love it.

She did love the view. But it was Vanessa’s view, that she saw first, that she loved first. Now it just makes Brooke feel sick. Sick at herself. Like it’s not hers to look at, and she shouldn’t.

She looks away.

A change of scenery helps to calm the mind, Brooke thinks. Nina told her that once, she vaguely recalls, as she sobbed helplessly into the arms of the only one who would listen. The only one who didn’t think of her as a raging evil bitch, and more of a hopeless coward instead. It’s not much better, but it’s a small comfort given how much she hates herself for it. She’s more inclined to go with what the rest of them all thought after it happened.

It’s late, anyway. Maybe it really is time to read a book and push down the thoughts and try to sleep away the regret.

“Oh god, oh god. Vane- fuck,” She breathes.

Waves of pleasure shoot through her, beginning deep in her belly and sending shockwaves all up Brooke’s back. Her hands grasp at the sheets around her head, desperate, clinging, her mind and body totally incognizant of each other. Her body is on fire, and her mind isn’t even functioning correctly.

Vanessa’s mouth is hot and fast and her tongue is skilled, and every time she grazes over her clit with the swift, feather-light touches Brooke thinks she’s going to pass out. Her fists grab tighter and her toes curl and a gasp floats from her lips, accidental, unstoppable. She manages to tear one hand away and threads it into Vanessa’s dark hair, urging her to keep going.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, fuck…” She manages.

The goddess between her legs doesn’t stop, not until long after the inaudible mumblings have stopped falling from Brooke’s lips and her breaths are finally starting to slow, and she wonders how Heaven is meant to be above them when she feels herself sinking into it right now. Brooke thinks absent that maybe Heaven is here and everything else is Hell because nothing feels like being with Vanessa feels, and when they’re naked and intertwined and breathless and warm maybe they’re closer to God than they’ll ever be.

She catches herself before three words make their way out.

“God, this fucking mattress…” Is what she ends up producing. It’s digging into her back, lumpy and old. She’s only just noticed, in truth.

Vanessa’s head lifts, her makeup smudged in a way that feels beyond sinful to look at. She licks her lips coyly, sucks off her finger, and offers a lazy, heady sort of smile.

“The mattress? That’s all you got, boo?”

She’s laughing, happy, delirious. Brooke laughs too. “I don’t have to say anything about you. Isn’t the state of me enough?”

It is. On her back, chest peppered with bruises not yet formed, chest rising and falling beyond her control, legs still twitching slightly. Brooke’s completely spent, blissed out, exhausted. Vanessa’s still worn out from hers and yet her tongue is musical and the melodies were handcrafted by all the muses of the ancient world.

Still smiling, Vanessa shifts so she’s hovering on top of Brooke and then leans down to kiss her, their bodies colliding, Brooke tasting herself on the lips of her lover. It’s nights like these that make her feel like the world is a good place to be. That everything is fixable, everything is brilliant.

“We should get you a new mattress, baby,” Vanessa tells her when they break apart. “And I’ll probably never leave.”

Brooke forces a laugh, but the idea isn’t laughable. Vanessa and Forever go hand in hand, somehow.

And they do go shopping for a mattress for Brooke’s place. They wander through stores and discuss mattress firmness and size and height and flop down until they feel as though they’re ready to drop, and then Vanessa lands on one and yells “BROOKIE!” so loud that her voice - that goddamn voice - almost shatters the glass. She’s laying down with a beam on her face like nothing Brooke’s ever seen, pure sunshine, and she clearly has the best taste in mattresses because when she buys it, Brooke’s never slept so good in her life.

The bed is cold. Brooke deserves a cold bed. She left Vanessa in one, so it’s the least she can deal with it.

They weren’t always at Brooke’s - sometimes it was Vanessa’s too, for the sake of variety. Looking back on those memories makes Brooke feel like the biggest idiot in the world. Which she is, of course, and she knows it. But even here, the mini Christmas tree is cold and isolated, and Vanessa gave it to her as an early gift last Christmas, and Vanessa chose the mattress, and Vanessa picked the view. Brooke stares at everything that Vanessa has touched in her life and wonders why in the world she let herself ruin something so good. It’s selfish and stupid and self-sabotaging and that angel of a woman deserves so much more.

She thinks about sharing the picture. She could caption it with that song, ‘Now I’m in the house you chose and the bed you bought to face your perfect view’, and that could be her apology. Because she knows all too well she’s too much of a blind coward to say it properly. And Vanessa won’t see it even if she does share, because they’re not friends anymore. Someone will get it to her - probably Silky - but that’s not worth it.

Brooke opens her phone again, and swipes away from the picture before she does something stupid. Then she opens her texts.

B: Are you busy? [10.11pm]

B: Oh shit sorry, just saw Yvie’s insta, u guys are out tonight. Ignore this x [10.13pm]

N: No no! They’re out, I’m home because I was working all day and I was too tired :( [10.19pm]

N: What do you need hun? <3 [10.20pm]

B: If ur tired it’s okay, I’ll talk to u another time x [10.20pm]

N: Shut up. I’m here [10.21pm]

N: I think I know what’s going on. Right time of year [10.21pm]

B: I’m just an idiot, idk [10.22pm]

N: Nope. Stay where you are, I’m coming over. [10.22pm]

N: Did she text you? [10.24pm]

B: She’s not that stupid lmao why would she [10.24pm]

Nina is the only one who bothered to ask what the hell was going on when it happened. It’s not like Brooke can blame the others, and she doesn’t either. If someone did that to her best friends, she would be the same. And she is the same - she hates herself passionately for it. But Nina has this untraceable kindness to her, this unfathomable tenderness that seems to have no beginnings, no ends, no limits. It flows so freely from her, like a gift.

She has no idea how much time passes by crying and looking blankly at her phone, or even any idea when she started crying, but the doorbell rings and Brooke answers it already in tears and Nina sweeps her into a hug like it’s the easiest thing in the world, and maybe it is. To love your friends is easy and natural, like taking a breath in clean air.

To love someone special is like inhaling in water, drowning, getting lost. And you have to be content with the helplessness in order to survive it, or at least strong enough to swim and keep it going. You can’t just sink. Brooke couldn’t handle drowning.

“I’m a fucking idiot,” She weeps into Nina’s arms, once her choking sobs settle into streaming tears. It’s not better, just different. “I wanted to be with her forever and that was so fucking scary.”

Nina rubs her back. “Breathe, breathe. It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay.”

“Is- is she okay?”

Stupid question. Brooke isn’t sure she even wants to know.

The hug finishes; they’re on the couch again. Nina pulls out her phone, frowning, and pauses like she’s thinking. She looks guilty, which is unusual.

“I would never normally show a friend’s text, y’know? It’s private, I don’t do all that betraying trust stuff. But I know she’ll delete these tomorrow morning and I think you should see them before she does.”

V: so its been a ear then hasnr it [10.56pm]

V: a year of fwithout brook [10.56pm]

V: honestly fuck her yknw what i man [10.56pm]

V: she fuckin broke mt heart man why did she do that [10.56pm]

V: i miss her an the stupid vats so muhc [10.57pm]

V: tha sonf auld lang syne plaed earlier in the bar bef4 eht club [10.57pm]

V: very apropaotye hahahahksjkdh [10.57pm]

V: may rhe acwanriance be forgot forever and fuckung ever [10.57pm]

V: is okay i can lobe w the bitternness [10.57pm]

V: i just kisd girls unt il it dont hurt [10.57pm]

Brooke sobs. Again, loud, shaking, broken. Because Vanessa is hurting so much even a year after it happened and everything feels so raw and it’s entirely her own fault for crushing the dream they were building.

“I miss her so fucking much, I don’t know why- I don’t know why I walked out,” She babbles, helpless and hopeless and hurt. “I’m fucking lying, Nina, I know why, I know why I did it. Why did I fucking-”

She knows all too well. Because Vanessa helped her pick an apartment and Vanessa picked her bed and Vanessa loved her cats. Because Brooke could imagine them getting married and growing old and it had barely been four months by the time Christmas and New Years were rolling around and everything seemed so serious and so intense, and that didn’t mean it wasn’t fun but it was scary in the same breath because speed was terrifying.

Brooke is bitter, but only at herself.

New Years Day. January 1st, a brand new year, a bright new start. The frost glistens freshly on the undisturbed morning, and all across the city, singles and couples sleep through the dawn, hungover or still passed out drunk, party hats akimbo, party blowers still suspended in smudged lipsticky mouths.

It’s early, enough that the daylight is blinding but pale and faded. Vanessa’s bedroom has the huge window that she never covers, and she sleeps through it like the dead. Brooke wakes up and looks around.

She looks at everything but Vanessa, but eventually her gentle snuffling is too much to ignore and she looks down at her beautiful sleeping form. She’s a disaster, hair everywhere and glitter still all over her face, and she’s the most breathtaking woman in the entire wide world. Something heavy and all encompassing sweeps into Brooke’s chest, and she can identify it by name. It’s only four letters, but it strikes a fear in her like an old god from a lost world. She needs to vomit. She needs to run. She needs an escape.

Before she even knows who she is again, any of the things that ended up staying half their time at Vanessa’s are stuffed into a couple of carrier bags and she’s in her dress from the party and out of the door into the cold winter air, panicked, unable to breathe.

It’s a heart attack, she thinks. Or a panic attack. It’s an attack that feels like it’s going to kill her, and she runs away, and she runs all the way home and barricades the door shut, dropping her belongings on the floor, numb and confused and cold. It’s the start of the new year and she begins it alone, hyperventilating.

Within a couple of days the worried texts subside and the angry vengeful ones start flooding in, and just like that Brooke’s lost the best thing that ever happened to her and all of her friends along with it. Because she got up on new year’s day and abandoned Vanessa fast asleep and that was the end.

It’s ugly and chilling, how much she cries into Nina’s gentleness. The only thing that stops her is, ironically, the thing that makes her feel worse, the characteristic ‘ping!’ of Nina’s phone, undoubtedly more drunk texts.

V: i hoper he fucjibg bubble bursts this tie of year [11.23pm]

V: every jhanduary first for the rest of hersitnkin life [11.23pm]

“I deserve it,” Brooke whispers hoarsely, “But she doesn’t. She never did.”

“Neither of you do,” Nina tells her sadly. “They don’t all hate you, they hate what you did the way friends always do when breakups happen. You both deserve to be happy. And both of you have been dreading New Year’s for this exact reason.”

It hurts to hear, and Brooke wishes she doesn’t have to listen, but her friend is so goddamn wise it feels stupid not to.

“Two days until it’s officially New Year.” Nina kisses her hand. “Can you keep living like this, Brooke?”

It’s not like she even has to say it for Brooke to understand. “She hates me.”

Nina shakes her head. “No she doesn’t. She loves you.”

“That’s worse.”

“You love her.”

“I know.”

“You got scared.”

“I still am.”

“Face your fears.” Nina holds her at arm’s length, forcing her to look right into her face. “This hurts more than what blundering through it would, surely? Fire doesn’t always mean you get burned, sweetie. Sometimes it just warms you.”

She makes no fucking sense.

“I can’t play with Vanessa like that again.” Brooke swears. “I can’t.

The transitional period between Christmas and New Year doesn’t feel like real time. It’s just liminal space, a waiting room of chronology, a suspension in space. If she’s honest, trying now causes no harm, because it’s like it didn’t even happen. Maybe she should, maybe she will.

Eventually Nina leaves, pressing a kiss to her forehead and promising that somehow everything is going to be okay. She’s like a fairy godmother, Brooke thinks to herself. Always knowing, always positive, and total magic to behold.

She’s awake all night long just staring at the time on the top of her phone, lying in bed sideways and wondering if she’ll do it. It has to be right. It can’t be when she’ll still be awake and drunk and angry. But it can’t be on the anniversary of her biggest fuck up, because that just feels like some kind of sick joke and that’s not what she wants.

The entire night passes. At six am, her finger hovers over the send button for a full three minutes. She counts the seconds.

B: I fucked up. If u’ll have me, I’ll never mess u around again. I didn’t know I could love someone so much and then u came along and everything sped up and I wasn’t fast enough. I shouldn’t have thrown away what we had when it was as close to perfect as anything can get. This message is all me me me I I I but if ur okay with it, I think new year should begin right this time. I’ll hold u and I won’t let go, and u don’t even have to hold me as long as ur here. Everything is up to u. I’ll learn to live with what I did if u say no. Because I totally get why u should hate me. I hate me too, kinda. U did nothing wrong. U were and will always be perfect. [6.03am]

B: Full disclosure is I was scared of how much and how quick I loved u. But it didn’t go away even when I hurt u. I was stupid to do that, and I don’t wanna do another year in the shadow of that massive mistake. [6.05am]

B: I won’t say it here, because thats cheap for u. But I’ll say it when I see u again. I promise, and I want to [6.13am]

She falls asleep with her phone in her hand after being awake all night long.

She wakes up four hours later.

V: ur dumb [9.51am]

V: theres a party at yvies for new years yknow [9.52am]

V: im not saying ill kiss u at midnight but [9.52am]

V: fuck around and find out [9.52am]

(tags: purecamp, branjie, brooke lynn hytes, vanessa vanjie mateo, lesbian au, things that were, fic challenge, nostalgia challenge, nina west)

#rpdr fanfiction #purecamp #branjie #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #lesbian au #things that were #fic challenge #nostalgia challenge #nina west #s11 #(you will always have a place here! -v)

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darlabubbles · 4 years

Photo

Thank you @lord-diavolo-is-watching for creating these oc character sheets. It came in handy!

Here my Obey Me mc Shanna Keegan. The avi was by @otomeman and Shanna’s sprites were commissioned by soladraws. Please click on picture for better quality.

Fun facts about Shanna are under the cut

Shanna is a lefty.

Shanna is currently dating both Mammon and Beel. She hasn’t told Simeon that she loves him yet, however he suspects that she does.

Shanna has always wanted to open her own salon since she was 8 years old.

She dropped out of college after her second semester because her parents were upset with her for failing to get straight As. They’re hella strict.

Math was always an easy subject for her even and she got the worst grades in it.

If she’s having a really bad day you can catch her creating and solving math problems.

Asmo was the first brother she befriended. For some reason they clicked and she didn’t fight it.

Mammon was the first to connect to her emotionally but it was Shanna that approached him to date.

Beel volunteered to hold her whenever she had nightmares. It was happening so often in the beginning that eventually she moved into his room. She’s still there.

One the one month anniversary of living in Devildom, Shanna snuck into Lucifer’s office and swiped a bottle of Red Demonus. She felt guilty about it and bought a replacement bottle and gave it to him as a “present” for putting up with her antics. Lucifer knew she did it and wanted to see if she’d confess.

Two of her classmates Azoth and Megthun agreed to let her cut their hair. She only had to say that “I am a weak human. Lowest of the Low. Plague of the Demon Realm, Demon of all Demons” every time she saw them for a month first.

Cooking was not something that she was very good at, but she begged Barbatos to help her so that she could impress Beel. Once she admitted that she maybe liked him a little after all.

If you’d like to know more fun facts about Shanna feel free to send me an ask.

#obey me #obey me! shall we date?#obey me!#obey me! swd #obey me! one master to rule them all #obey me seven #obey me mc #obey me oc #obey me original character #my original characters #my oc #shanna keegan #obey me shanna #obey me fanart #obey me character sheet #character sheet #oc character sheet

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mirkwoodshewolf · 4 years

Text

Guardian of creatures; AU! Queen x oc female x reader Chap. 3

*Author’s note*

Wow just two days of writing and here we go with the next chapter. Now here you as the reader finally learn the truth about the owners of the BEWITCHED nightclub, as well as it’s star employees. More of a background will happen in later chapters but for now I hope this will do for you all enjoying this series.

Warnings: Objects coming alive, some swearing, graphic mythology.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@simonedk

@kinole009x

@queen-paladin

@queensdivas

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@dancingcoolcat

@queendeakyy

@klausidiot

@geek-and-proud

____________________________________________________________

Chapter 3

Monsters are real!?

Hissing, deep roars, flashing lights, and something scaly. That was what was flashing through your mind like a film. You also remember hearing faint voices of Serafina and John talking to someone, but the last thing you could recall seeing was two eyes staring down at you.

The hypnotic, enticing yet warm yellow eyes staring down at you. You also remember feeling something smooth and scaly wrap around you before everything went black.

Finally you find the strength to open your eyes and you let out a loud, breathless gasp. The kind of gasp you make when you’ve been underwater for too long, the kind where you’re so desperate for air it didn’t matter whether a fly flew into your mouth or not.

The first thing you feel is a cool rag at the top of your head and you take in your surroundings. You’re in a large bedroom. The walls were a mix of purple and grey pattern wallpaper. One strip of the wall was a beautiful dark shade of purple, and the other was a grey with a floral design, then another strip of purple, and the pattern continued around the entire room.

The bed you were lying in was the softest thing you had ever felt. It was like sleeping on a cloud and the blankets were the softest of silk. Or was it Satin? Whatever it was, it was soft. Much better than any bedsheets you’ve ever slept on. After removing the damp cloth from your forehead you turn to see a beautifully hand-carved dresser.

Through the blackwood, you could see that engraved onto it were what appeared to be wolves. Wolves running alongside the entire dresser. You continued to look around to also see a large wooden wardrobe to your right and a small purple loveseat just at the foot of the bed.

Two Elegant candelabra lights were also on both sides of the room as well as one more right above you. Slowly you get out of the bed to feel the soft yet fuzzy texture of the carpet beneath your feet. The fuzzy points of it tickled your bare feet but one thing was screaming in your mind.

Where the hell were you?

Sneaking towards the door, you open it up to reveal a grand hallway. The wooden walls and low lighting gave it almost a haunting quality to it (and it didn’t help that it was still dark out).

Quietly as you could, you sneak down the hallway hoping to find a way out. As you walk, you can’t help but notice some of the pictures that hung along the walls.

In normal homes you’d see pictures of family members, paintings by famous artists or paintings of family members themselves. But this house—well one picture was of what appeared to be an evolution of some kind of human-serpent like creature.

Another picture was of the ocean but under the waters of the picture were terrifying creatures with sharp teeth, claws, webbed-like hands and tails like a fish. After what felt like forever of walking down this dimly lit hallway, you finally arrive at a grand staircase. A split staircase with one set of stairs (that you were in front of) and another set of stairs across from you joined together on a grand landing and then continuing downward to the main floor of the mansion.

The carpets were blood red and floral designed as well as some other intricate designed patterns that you had never seen before. You hold onto the railing as you quietly sneak down but of course the floor creaks beneath your foot.

You quickly take back your foot and quickly look around, your heart racing with anxiety. You then try your luck at a different part of the staircase and you thank God above that you didn’t hear a creak beneath your foot this time around. Cautiously you walk down the steps when you hear the strangest sound you had ever heard.

It sounded like a mixture of animals, it had the light cooing sound of a dove, but it had the deep resonance of an owl. You thought you also heard the purr of a cat mixed in there too. Slowly you turn your head around and you were frozen in fear to see the wooden shape of some sort of snake.

Half it’s body had lifted from the column that stood by the top of the staircase. It’s head tilted curiously at you as it’s wooden forked tongue occasionally came out. You and this wooden snake didn’t break eye contact with each other for even a split second, it’s unblinking eyes staring straight at you. You feared if you had blinked once, you’d be dead in an instant.

Suddenly all along it’s neck began to spike up into some sort of frizzled up wooden mane as it let out a demonic hiss/roar like sound. You yelp as you suddenly felt yourself falling backwards along the staircase.

The loud roar like hiss soon began to call up an alarm as the lights began to flicker on and off, the sound of an organ began playing but you saw no one was pounding on the keys and a few suits of armor started to come to life.

You let out a terrified scream as you scramble yourself up and tried to flee out the backway but you hear the sound of the locks clicking, telling you that it had locked itself up. Keeping you trapped inside. The suits of armor continue to come towards you so you now run to our left and you soon arrive at a very large den-like room.

Thinking fast, you shut the door and pull a chair towards it and lean it against the doorknob so that nothing could enter inside. As an extra measure, you ran towards a giant desk and hid underneath it trying to control your breathing.

“Oh my god, oh my god oh god oh god!” you whimper fearfully. Slowly you peek over the desk just to see if anything is trying to break down the door.

Unaware of a dark green tail that was slowly slithering towards you. Slowly feeling around your ankle you feel something cold wrap around your ankle. You look down and see a dark green snake tail wrapped around your leg. It then begins to tug at you hardly but you quickly grab onto the desk and try to hold on.

It’s a tug of war as you scream and beg for the tail to let you go. You kick at it with your free foot but it does little to deter the snake tail. Soon coming through a second door that you had no idea existed, John and Serafina are there.

Serafina grabs you while John shoots out a purple light from his hand down onto the snake tail which reals back and vanishes from sight. You scream up at Serafina as you try to escape from her grasp.

“(Y/n), sweetie it’s okay. It’s just us.” She tried to assure you. But you let out another terrified scream.

“Well that’s one way of saying thanks.” John said in a sarcastic tone.

“John behave!” she snapped at her husband. Wait, you then noticed that her low, southern accent wasn’t there. She sounded British. Was she faking the accent when you first met her? She turns back to you and says softly, “I know you’ve been through something traumatic but……”

“Traumatic!? TRAUMATIC!? You call that traumatic!?” you yell at her.

“It’s a lot to take in but please just let us……”

“What were those people!? Who are you!? Are you both gonna kill me?!”

“What no. No we’re not gonna kill you.”

“You guys are gonna kill me. You’re gonna chop me up into little pieces and serve me up in a pie!” you panicked.

“Sweetie no one’s gonna chop you up and bake you into a pie.” Serafina assured you.

“Then why did the house attack me!? Why am I here? Why—” suddenly your voice goes quiet. You can still feel yourself speaking but no voice is coming out of you. You panic once more and mime out a scream as you rake your hands through your hair.

“John Richard Deacon!” Serafina snarled. You stop screaming for a second to see John lower his hand as he said.

“Well how else were we gonna get them to stop overtalking you?”

“Uhh not with magic. And like civilized people with compassion and reassurance.” Magic? Did she really just say magic?

“Yeah like that was going so well just now.” John sassed as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“John I’m serious. Give them back their voice, and try to be empathetic about the situation. You were the exact same way when we were told of this.”

“That was a different story.”

“Not really.”

“Yes it was!”

“No it wasn’t.”

“Yes it was!” I tapped Serafina’s shoulder and she turned to me and sighed softly.

“Sorry love. We didn’t mean for things to go out the way they did but—we had to make sure the curse on you was fully gone. That’s why we brought you here. To our manor in Cold Spring.” Cold Spring?! You were in Cold Spring New York?!

You then feel a warmness coming back in your throat and that’s when John said to you.

“Try not to go screaming at the top of your lungs again. Otherwise your voice will be gone for a week.”

“John!” Serafina warned.

“Who are you guys?” you finally ask. The two young owners of the Jazz club looked at each other when John said.

“That’s—a long story.”

“At this point I don’t care. I want the truth!” you tell them.

“Come with us.” John said as he walked out of the room. Serafina held out her hand for you. Her red eyes giving you a sense of calmness and maternity. You give her your hand and she helps you stand up and walks you out of the study room.

You now stand before a grand library filled to the brim with books. Shelves so high you swear they touched the ceiling, you also notice that there is a giant globe at the center of the room, a few display tables with some pretty interesting and freaky stuff. Like one was a mummified hand or a golden statue of a cat.

As you walk through the library with curiosity that’s when Serafina asks you.

“What’s your knowledge of witches and wizards (Y/n)?”

“Not much. I mean I know about the Salem witch trials that happened a long time ago. But other than that……pointy black hats, broomsticks, and are said to be green skinned, old and ugly.” You say as you look at some of the books and items in the display cases.

“Well, I think they’re a little bit more than hats and broomsticks.” Serafina said as she sat down on one of the red velvet chairs.

“And they’re not ugly. That’s just a stereotypical characteristic.” John said as he came up and stood over Serafina’s chair.

“Well I don’t know. I’d classify your mother as one of the ugly bitches if I could.” Serafina teased.

“Can’t argue with that.” John chuckled.

“Wait.” You say as you turn to them. “Are you saying—you guys are witches?”

“The technical name for a male witch is a wizard. Or Warlock but that’s only reserved for the most powerful of wizards. But—yes. We are.” John replied.

“Does that frighten you?” Serafina asked.

“That depends. Are you both good or are you bad?”

“Well, it all depends on what you mean by ‘bad’. I’m nice but not that good.”

“You always degrade yourself love. You’re the best potions brewer I’ve ever met. You can name every single ingredient of every potion known to any wizard and witch. And you don’t even need a spell book. Not to mention your knowledge of magical creatures.” John said as he lowered his head towards Serafina’s and pressed against it lovingly.

“You’re one to talk Mr. Honor’s degree. You were the top wizard of our class in everything.” Serafina said as she gently poked John’s shoulder.

“A school? You mean to tell me there’s a school for wizard’s and witches?” you ask.

“Yes.” Serafina say breaking her eye contact with John to turn back to you. “There is only one school where wizards and witches go to become the best they can be—”

“But it was a long time ago when we went. I can barely recall it’s name.” John said as he turned his head away from Serafina.

There was a look in his eyes that read out—anger? Regret? You didn’t know but it you did know that it seemed John didn’t want to talk about it anymore. You see Serafina take John’s hand and stroke the back of it.

“Look, it’s been a long night for all of us. I think it’s best if we all go back to sleep, we’ll continue this discussion in the morning with the others.”

“You mean…….” Serafina placed her finger over her lips in a shushing motion.

“Come now dear, I’ll take you back to your room. John, you can go downstairs and apologize to you know who for the shock you gave.” She sat up from the chair and placed an arm around your shoulder to guide you out of the library.

“If I end up a ghost after talking to him, I’ll be coming for you first.” John told her.

“Please I know what you would do to me as a ghost.” Serafina called out back to him.

The two of you walk back up towards the room you were just at, every now and then you watched as Serafina ordered the suits of armor to go back into position, silence the piano, and shoo the wooden snake back against the column pillar.

“Do you and John always fight like that?”

“What married couple doesn’t? John and I can go at each other like dragons but through all our fights, we’ve never loved each other any less. Trust me when you’ve been with someone for over 1000 years you learn to compromise through your fights.”

“1000 years!?” you exclaim. “You’ve been married to John for a 1000 years?!”

“Technically we got married in 1465 so it’s only been 500 when we legally became husband and wife. However we were childhood sweethearts back in 1020. So we’ve just counted our relationship from when we first met.”

“So do witches and wizards age slower? Or are you guys immortal? Sorry if it sounds to personal. It’s just that you don’t look a day over 24.” She chuckled softly.

“Thank you dear. Well it goes both ways. You can form a spell to keep your immortal looks, but typically wizards and witches do age slower than muggles.”

“Muggles?”

“Oh that’s what we call humans back in England. Muggles, people who can’t do magic.” You nod.

Finally you arrive back to the bedroom and Serafina guides you back to the bed. As soon as you get into it, she tucks you in gently and adjusts your pillow.

“There we go. Comfy?” you nod. “As I said, we’ll explain everything in the morning. But for now rest is the most important thing you need right now. Goodnight (Y/n).”

“G’night.” You tell her. She then leaves the bedroom and with a snap of her fingers the lights go off and the door softly closes behind her.

Okay. So witches and wizards are real. The owners of the jazz club your boss wanted you to look into and expose are a witch and wizard. Just when you thought they only belong in storybooks, you find out witches exist and are real.

You could only imagine what else could exist in this world.

Morning came and you awoke to the smell of pancakes. You open your eyes and saw the sun’s rays coming through the windows in an elegant way, kinda like a hanging halo of light.

You get out of the bedroom and follow your nose till you stand before a grand kitchen. Inside you see the Blonde Siren sitting with Brian at a booth table. The blonde siren had basically every kind of breakfast meat there was on his plate. Bacon, sausages, ham, etc.

While Brian had some toast, two pancakes, and a tall glass of what looked like red wine. What really caught your attention though was the way the both of them were eating. Even a sip of the wine, Brian handled his breakfast with a high degree of grace and decorum (like those high aristocratic people), while the Blonde Siren was eating away at his food like a starving animal and—were those fangs in his mouth.

“Honestly Rog, must you eat like an animal?” asked Brian.

“Must you eat like you’ve got a pole shoved up your arse?” retorted Rog. Was that his real name? It sounded more like a nickname or something but what was it short for?

“Honestly I can’t see how you can devour animals like that. It’s quite sickening to watch at times.”

“You know what else is sickening? Listening to you complain while I’m trying to eat. Seriously Brian, you elves go on hunting parties, and yet you can’t stand the sight of me eating other animals? That’s very hypocritical of you.”

“I never once participated in a hunting party and you know it!” Brian exclaimed.

“I swear do you two ever stop arguing with each other. It’s like watching two children fight over a toy.” John said as he came through the back door entrance of the kitchen and headed back to the stove. He then turns his attention to you and says, “Ahh I see that my wife’s cooking has woken you up.”

When Brian and Rog look up, their eyes widened in shock as they look around trying to pretend their conversation didn’t happen.

“I was just…..I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“Nonsense, come sit. Eat. Regain your strength, you need it. Also I would like to apologize for my behavior last night. I get a little testy when I’m woken up after a battle.”

“It’s okay John.”

“Now we have a selection for breakfast, do you prefer vegetarian or the regular breakfast selection?” you tell him what you prefer and he shows you the selection they have for your preferred breakfast.

After getting your breakfast made, you go towards the table where Brian and Rog sat and take a seat across from the two men. As you take the first bite of food Rog speaks up.

“How—much of that did you hear?” before you could answer that’s when John speaks up as he snapped his fingers and soon the plates began to clean themselves up.

“We told them Rog. Well the partial truth about what Serafina and I really are. So they know to an extent of what creatures really exist.”

“I see.” Brian said.

“Serafina said she wanted to talk about it with you guys as well. Are you guys wizards like John?”

“Thank Poseidon no. I don’t know what I’d do if I were one of those stuck up, pompous, egotistical……”

“Watch it stallion! You forget Serafina is a witch so insulting me means you’re insulting her.” John warned.

“Oh I would never put Serafina with the likes of you. She is something extra special.” Is he sure he’s not in love with Serafina. Cause the way he praises her is. You feel Brian touch your arm as he explains.

“Roger here comes from a Scandinavian race known as the Nokks.”

“Neck, Nokken, Nixy, Nix, there’s a shit ton of ways to spell our name.” Roger waved his hand nonchalantly. “Just depends on where you come from is where the pronunciations differ.”

“Anyways. His kind are nothing more than horny hound dogs that seduce women and lure children away with songs or beautiful music.” John sneered as he took a bite of a piece of toast that had cheese on it.

“I NEVER ONCE LURED A CHILD TO THEIR DEATH!! I could never stomach something like that.” Roger first snapped angrily before softly speaking with solemness.

“But you don’t deny the way you are with women.” Brian said more as a statement than a question.

“Is there anything wrong with that?” Roger asked as he turned to the curly haired man who held his wine glass in his hand with purpose (was that even possible?).

“You have always loved your beautiful women.”

“Beauty should always be praised and treasured, wouldn’t you agree Elf Lord?”

“Elf lord?” you ask. At that point Brian sighed heavily and set his glass down and said to Roger.

“Thank you for that.” Roger merely grinned cheekily at him. Brian then turns to you and pulls back some of his hair to reveal the pointed ears of an elf.

“Back during the middle ages, long before people started over populating the land with their cities and towns. Brian here was known as the High Elven lord of the West. Skilled fighter, wise ruler, protector of the forest, and Seer of the stars.”

“I…..I thought elves like you know—worked up at the North Pole and were……and don’t take this the wrong way Brian but uhh…..I honestly thought you’d be shorter.” At this point Roger began to laugh hysterically as Brian pinched the bridge of his nose groaning.

“I don’t know where humans got that idea that elves were supposed to be as short as dwarves and worked far up North were hardly anyone can survive.”

“Oh man! That is probably the funniest thing I have ever heard! How come you never told us that’s what humans perceive you as?” Roger said through his laughter.

“Because I knew you would react this way!” Brian shouted.

“Oh Trident’s spear. You are never gonna live this down mate.” Brian groaned as he dropped his head to the table.

“Now, now Roger don’t tease him like that.” Serafina’s voice soon spoke up. You look up and coming from the back entrance was Serafina.

She walks up to John and the two of them share a kiss with each other and you see as John wraps his arms around her. You also couldn’t help but notice that in Serafina’s eyes she seemed—sad.

“How you’re awake, how did you sleep (Y/n) dear?” she asks you.

“Better. And the breakfast is delicious.”

“Thank you. John always prepares the best meals.” She said as she looked up at her husband who looked down at her and gave her a kiss to the crown of her head.

“Flattery will get you anywhere my love.” She rested her head against his collarbone when Roger spoke up.

“As lovey dovey as this is, it still makes me sick to my stomach seeing you to act like that in front of me.”

“Which is why we do it.” John sassed at him with a glare.

“Darling, behave yourself.” As they continue to argue, your mind then transitioned back to last night when you met Jarod. When you saw all those creatures with fangs, and then that one man.

The man with the long, crazed black hair, the yellow piercing of his eyes, and the scales all over his body.

“(Y/n)?” Brian’s soft voice calls out to you. You snap out of his and he asks you, “What’s on your mind dear one?”

“I—I was just thinking about…….what happened last night. With Jarod.”

“It’s my fault. I should’ve fought back! He never would’ve touched you had I just not been afraid to reveal my powers.” Serafina snapped at herself.

“My love you were in the right mindset. We all agreed to never show our true selves before the eyes of humanity.” John said as he held her closer to him. Roger whose eyes showed pure sympathy at Serafina now turned to you and you saw them shift into anger as he explained to you.

“Last night you had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting one of the fae Princes, Jarod. Son of Queen Titania of the Faeries.”

“Fairies?”

“No not fairies, faeries. There’s a HUGE difference.”

“What is the difference? Aren’t they all the same?”

“Not in the slightest.” Brian now took over saying. “See, you humans think of fairies as tiny, miniature versions of yourselves. That fly about with pixie dust trailing behind them, and in some cases mending and taking care of the earth?” you nod. “Well there’s not like they are in your books.”

“They are dark, evil creatures. In touch with all things beyond morale and humane.” John then spoke up.

“Faes can take the form of humans, far past the human standards of beauty, and lure humans to be their pets of sorts. Draining your life force or forcing you to bare their children till you’re nothing but a withering whisp of your former self.” Serafina stated grimly.

“And all you have to do in order to form that contract with a fae, is tell them your name.” Roger finished.

Oh shit! That means…….you had told Jarod your name. Does that mean he’ll be coming back for you? Or send in more faes to kidnap you?

“It’s alright though (Y/n). They won’t be coming back for you though.” Brian assured you.

“How do you know that? I told Jarod my name, how could I be so stupid!? I’ve put you all in danger! I could get you all killed!”

“No, no, no, no, no darling no. You are not a danger to us because you’ve been freed of the contract.” Serafina said to you as she came up and cupped your face in her hands.

“What? But he said that I had to tell them my name. And I did…..”

“You did do that yes, but the way to free a human from a faes control is if the fae that knows your name dies, the contract is no longer valid. Jarod is dead sweetie, and Titania isn’t stupid to try and come back for you.” she strokes you cheek assuringly.

“Was it……was it that man with the long black hair that killed him?”

“You saw him?” asked Brian.

“It was fuzzy. But—I remember seeing a flash of scales, and—hypnotic eyes staring straight down at me. And his voice—it was…..soft and warm. Like honey. Yet……”

“Struck the earth like an earthquake.” They all said together. Okay that was creepy that they all said it together in a chorus-like monotone.

“Yeah. Who was he?” they all went quiet. Serafina walks away from you and stands before a window looking outside.

“He is an ancient creature that has been around since the beginning of time itself.” She started off.

“A great race of creature, the like of which no one had ever seen before. A creature that can see the past, and the future.” John spoke ominously.

“His race is said to have been Gods themselves. No other creature would dare challenge the likes of his kind. Except one.” Brian said. You notice his eyes briefly flicker towards John before turning back to you. “Now he is the last of his kind.”

“The last of a supreme race of mythical creatures. All fear yet respect him. For he is law of the world, seer of all, and shaman of life.” Said Roger as he fingered the table, tracing an infinity symbol.

“Freddie Mercury, the last of the Nagas.” They all finally chorused out once again.

You feel a sudden cold chill in the air as that name was said. A shiver ran up your spine and your heart almost stopped. Just hearing that name made something in you feel—afraid, but at the same time comforted.

“What’s a—a Naga?” it sounded so foreign to you and even through all your love of fantasy genres of books, not one book ever spoke of a Naga before.

“They are a hybrid like creature. The first ever to roam the earth. Their upper bodies are human, whether man or woman, but their lower half is full on snake. The biggest Naga ever said to exist was over 60ft long from his human head to her snake tail.”

“They are gifted with all things magic, and cannot be effected by other magical creatures. Which is why the faes let us go when Freddie came to save our arses.” Roger said as he took a bite out of his food.

“But make no mistake. Nagas are neither good nor bad. They stand on a neutral ground, only observing the world around them. But it’s always wise to never, ever anger a Naga. Less you end up their next meal.” Serafina said.

“God knows we’ve all nearly been on Fred’s menu at least once since meeting him.” John said.

“I haven’t.” Brian said.

“Don’t go bragging Elfling.” Roger snapped.

“I’m over 4000 years old Roger!”

“Yes and I have been around since the oceans and seas formed. Which makes me older than you!”

“Enough! Both of you!” John snapped. You sit there in silence for a moment before John asks you. “You alright poppet?”

“Yeah I just…….”

“It is a lot to take in over breakfast.” Brian said. “We don’t expect you to accept it all right away.”

“Will I ever see Freddie?” you ask them.

“He’ll see you when he wants to see you. But now isn’t the right time.” Serafina tells you as she picks up the empty plates from the table and uses her magic to clean them up.

“When I do see him, he won’t……eat me. Will he?” you choke out.

“So long as you don’t give a reason to.” Roger said as he stood up and headed out of the kitchen.

“And how am I supposed to do that?”

“We’ll tell you when the time comes. For now let’s just get you properly dressed. Brian, why don’t you take (Y/n) to your room and have a change of clothes ready for them.” Serafina said.

“Of course Serafina.” He stands up from the booth and comes over to you extending his hand. “Come with me dear one.” You look up at the Elf Lord and take his hand. He helps you out of the booth and escorts you up towards his room.

*3rd Person POV*

“I really hope we’re doing the right thing.” Serafina said softly as soon as the Elf Lord and human were out of range.

“It’s what has to be done my love.”

‘He’s right. I thought you of all people expected this Serafina?’ Freddie’s voice soon entered into their heads.

“That was before the faes came into play. Freddie must it be them?”

‘Yesssss. I have seen it with my own eyes. This is the human that will lead us to salvation. To our bright future.’

“It’s just……”

‘That’s why the next part of our plan will come to place; you and John will teach them everything you both know. Turn them into a magic wielder.’

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tricktster · 4 years

Note

I was scrolling down your page when I first found you yesterday, and saw something that has been haunting me since then. What’s this about a URL and a Russian fetishbot???????

okay, see? look at me, addressing several month old asks! I’m doing great!

so back in time immemorial, when I started this blog, it was because I had a longstanding main tumblr with numerous followers that I knew in real life, and I didn’t want them to know about my try not to starve get rich quick scheme to write erotic Undertale fanfiction as a vehicle to politely beg for donations from my readers. I’d decided at that time that my Erotic Undertale Blogsona would be 100% undertale, while I would store all the remainder of my, ahem, “quality” “content” on my main, so I picked the url totalskeletontrash for the undertale blog on account of... you know, it was available and seemed to match the early undertale fandom energy I was hoping to capture.

Anyway, as a recap of the evolution of this tumblr that literally nobody but me finds charming or interesting: I almost immediately got tired of pandering to what I thought people wanted to read, started writing what I actually wanted to write (your classic “found family, time travel, eldritch abomination, incredibly convoluted twists that I set up 90 chapters ago, 38-year-old pansexual male corporate asshole self-insert OC” shit), and my stupid fucking scheme actually worked to keep me afloat until I followed my destiny and became a 30ish (uh, straight female) corporate asshole myself.

Because I was writing what I wanted to write, I put actual effort into it, and I’m a pretty okay writer, so a ton of people ended up reading it, and then following the link to my tumblr to talk about it with their ol’ buddy totalskeletontrash, aka your pal TST. The end result was that I suddenly had a main blog that never got used with a few hundred followers and a side blog with several orders of magnitude more people reading it, even once I finished the damn fic and everyone who was still following had either embraced my particular brand of “quality” “blogging” “content” or had forgotten to click unfollow during my gradual shift from a undertale fandom self-promotion blog to a fucking nonsense blog about the various japes and shenanigans I get up to on a regular basis.

totalskeletontrash was no longer the vibe, but everyone on here still knows me as TST, so I mixed that with my penchant for Causing Problems on Purpose, and tested out a new URL that would better suit my Personal Brand, and yes I am sounding like an asshole here on purpose.

anyway, I went to reserve totalskeletontrash exactly 24 hours after the URL change... you know, as one does, but I had neglected to account for one significant factor, and that was Tumblr. Tumblr, as you know, is taking the threat of nudity very seriously. Tumblr’s algorithms are incredible at preventing unsuspecting people, for example, from seeing photos of my axolotl who unfortunately happens to look a lot like a dong. I can’t upload a single picture of my baby boy before its flagged as inappropriate content and shoveled into the pile o’ jpgs of other vaguely dong shaped things. They are doing an incredible, incredible job of protecting us.

What I’m saying is that my old URL got immediately sniped by a Russian porn bot and I had to spend roughly a year apologizing to everyone who popped in to let me know that they had tried to visit me and instead been exposed to rogue buttholes (and ads imploring them to click on a virus in order to see even more buttholes), which Tumblr almost immediately flagged and took downahahahaha I’m kidding, buttholes don’t trigger Tumblr’s Axolotl Prevention System.

They finally noticed it a few months ago, so now totalskeletontrash.tumblr.com is nothing and there’s No Way For Me to Get It Back, So Don’t Even Ask.

Tumblr: It’s a website!

#ellannra

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eyes0ny0u · 4 years

Text

Pastel Mafia

@quagmireisadora finished Chapter 2 - FINALLY! TT ^ TT

CHAPTER 1: A ROUGH DAY

CHAPTER 2: WHEN THE GOING GETS ROUGH

Kibum sighed as he entered his apartment. Leaning against the door as he took off his shoes. He glanced at the microwave clock he could see from where he stood: 2:18 am. He's got maybe three hours before he has to get up for his part-time job at Albert's, a fancy bakery in the upper east side, at the opposite end of town. He would love nothing better than to sleep in tomorrow, but Albert's paid the best out of all his part-time jobs, and he got tips.

Right now, he needed all the tips and extra hours he can get. His last roommate had bailed on him, leaving him with an entire two-bedroom apartment to pay. He had begged his landlord to let him pay for his half of the apartment and will get him the rest later.

Kibum remembered the call from St. John's collection department, he still owed them a portion of last month's installment. His fist clenched at the embarrassment of admitting to a total stranger he didn't even have five dollars to his name. His last one disappeared when he lost his wallet.

Kibum trudged to the tiny kitchen and pulled out the leftover Chinese from his bag, thankful that the shift manager had let him take home whatever portions were left. He popped the take out carton into the microwave and looked around his apartment, with its peeling paint and cold air - he had barely turned on the heater since winter began. He was sleeping with thick clothes on, the thermostat just above '5' at the dial.

Kibum's eyes landed on the syllabus stuck to the fridge. The tears exhaustion couldn't squeeze from him poured at the thought that he will have to stop school.

God, he was tired.

So tired - but life didn't care.

Kibum wiped his cheeks. Squaring his shoulders as he pulled the warmed up Chinese and dug in. No use in indulging his tears. He didn't have enough food to drown his feelings.

- O -

"Carlos Amarillo at 57, was confirmed to have passed away by his son, Gian Amarillo today. No details were given to what caused the business tycoon's sudden death. Amarillo, who was the head of the Amarillo Group conglomerate, was a noted businessman and humanitarian in the area -," Jinki tuned out the late night news, lips tightening at the praises.

"What a bunch of hypocrites," Taemin sneered at the TV. "Not a month ago, they wanted Amarillo's head for Hawthorne Bridge!"

"Had they pushed a little further, they would've found proof of involvement," Minho interjected.

"They would have gotten paid off or threatened," Jinki said, reviewing the report on the shipment of electronics that arrived yesterday. "Or found their contact dead."

"True," Minho agreed, swirling the scotch he had been nursing since the news started. "What do you think Junior will do?"

Jinki leaned back, loosening his tie. He'd never worked with Gian before. All he knew about the new head of the Amarillo was that he was in the business, and he was ambitious.

"I heard Gian was banished from the main family for running that side deal with Salazar," Jinki said, referring to a semi-prominent Mexican cartel. "So, I'm not sure if he's going to declare war or be open for business."

"My money is on declaring war," Taemin said, slurping an oyster. "If he wants to gain the respect of his father's men, he'll be doing just that. I mean, you did when you took over the business."

"Yeah, but Gian has a hater with his father's numero uno," Minho said, leaning over Taemin's oyster bucket to reach for the charcuterie board. "Rumor has it Vincenzo Benotti might be the old Amarillo's love child."

"Really?" Jinki asked Minho. "I've never heard of this."

"I'm not surprised," Minho shrugged before popping a cracker piled with pate and cheese into his mouth. "It's parlour game rumours; some drunken Amarillo lackey may have blabbed over drinks or said out of spite. You know how it is."

Jinki turned to his computer and pulled up the file on Carlos Amarillo. Under the 'Known Associates' directory, was a picture of Vincenzo. The man had black hair and brown eyes. Just like Amarillo Sr. Being Italian that didn't mean anything. But something about the slant of the man's jaw reminded Jinki of Carlos.

"Minho, investigate Vincenzo," Jinki ordered. "I want to know everything. What town his ancestors were from to the brand of their favourite red wine."

Jinki wasn't sure if he was seeing things, but it was worth investigating. Lovechild or not, Vincenzo might be vying for the top seat. Gian Amarillo could need some help with ensuring his position in the organization. His deal with Carlos Amarillo may not be as dead as he thought it was. On life support, but it looked like it could be revived.

He just needed to convince either Vincenzo or Gian that he would make a good ally despite the little fiasco last week. What're a few bullets between business partners? In their world, it was practically considered a nicety.

"By the way," Jinki suddenly remembered his pet project. "What do we have on the guy who saved my ass last week?"

- O -

Albert's was, as usual, teeming with yuppies, grabbing their trendy breakfast before heading off to work. Kibum rang up orders as fast as he could, but his mind still on the unpaid bills he needed to take care of. Kibum glanced down the line, trying to determine how much longer the rush was going to last. With detachment, he noted the quality of apparel Albert's clientele sported and envied the financial security, all of them exuded.

"A croissant and a large of your medium roast, please," a woman with flawless makeup and Gucci bag said, barely looking him in the face as she pulled out a Valentino wallet. Kibum punched the order in; $15.08 for Anna. A breakfast for Anna was Kibum's meal budget for 3-days, courtesy of his employee rate at the Dong Fan Chinese restaurant.

"An espresso please and the fruit and protein box," man in gleaming Rolex and Balenciaga briefcase ordered. His suit was probably Italian, ranging around $5,000.00 to $8,000.00, depending on the make—the leather briefcase around $2,000.00. The Rolex was at least $3,000.00. The guy's entire ensemble would have more than paid off his grandmother's hospital bill.

Sir, would you mind pawning me your Rolex so that I can get the hospital off my back? Kibum silently asked the yuppie who didn't bother leaving a tip.

"The yogurt parfait and medium-light roast, please," a red-head regular asked. The diamond engagement ring on her finger was so big; it was at least 2 carats with a platinum band encrusted with tiny diamonds. Kibum's entire year of schooling was sitting on that woman's ring finger.

Would you mind lending me your ring so I can enroll? Kibum asked the woman in his head as he flashed his practiced smile when she dropped a toonie in the tip jar. I would like to make more of my life than bussing tables and waiting on people. Please.

The next customer was dressed in a simple navy blue pinstripe suit. One could say the man didn't belong in the "fashionable" line. Working at Albert's for the past three years had taught Kibum how to size people at a glance. Gauging where they belong in the socio-economic ladder had become his weird expertise. Though the outfit was simple, borderline plain, the perfect fit of the shoulders and elegant drop of the knife-edge crease of the pants said tailored. The understated silver - most likely platinum - watch and leather loafers screamed old money.

"The blueberry muffin and a tall medium roast, please," the man said, handing Kibum a fifty dollar bill.

Kibum barely stopped an eye-roll. C'mon, dude, it's barely 8 am. Have a little sense, and don't drop a bill so large so early in the morning. "Sir, do you have a smaller bill?"

"No change?" the man asked an eyebrow raised.

"Unfortunately," Kibum said with a fake apologetic smile.

"Keep the change then."

"Sir, your total is $12.30," Kibum exclaimed.

"I don't have a smaller bill," the man said as he placed the bill on the counter and walked away.

"Sir -," Kibum called out, but the next customer stepped in front of him.

Kibum punched the payment on auto-pilot and dropped the change in the tip jar, almost feeling nauseous. That was hella over the top, and somehow assholish in its extravagance. But he was thankful for the extra cash he was going to get.

After his shift at Albert's, Kibum rushed to the bus stop for his afternoon shift at Dong Fan. The bus was pulling away from the curb when he arrived. Kibum gritted his teeth against the frustration surging through him. He was going to be late for his shift and that meant income loss.

Kibum took a deep breath to stifle the string of curses rising from his chest. He took out his phone to call the restaurant but noticed he had an email from St. John's. He was tempted to ignore it but tapped on the icon anyways.

Kibum blinked at the message. He scrolled up again to check the sender. Yeah, there it was, St. Johns Hospital. But something was wrong because the email contained a receipt for the amount he owed the hospital.

Confused, Kibum clicked on the phone number in the signature, brow furrowing as the call went through. After being transferred to accounting he asked about the status of his account.

"Your account is up to date."

"Excuse me?"

"Your balance was paid for in full yesterday."

"By whom?" Kibum asked still in disbelief, afraid to believe. "I didn't make the payment," Kibum said. "No one else would make the payment."

"Payment came in electronically from Jjinggu LLC," the agent answered. "It could be one of those angel-sponsors."

"What's an angel-sponsor?"

"They're anonymous individuals or organizations who will settle random accounts as part of their charity work."

"And you don't know their names at all?"

"No, I'm sorry. Payors are not required to identify themselves."

"Ok... but you're sure, they made the payment against my account?"

"Yes, sir," Kibum heard the operator's smile. "I'm one hundred percent sure, Mr. Kim."

"OK," Kibum whispered. "Thanks."

"Was there anything else I can help you with?"

"No, that's it."

Kibum disconnected the call, reeling from the relief. Tears pricked his eyes as the weight of the debt lifted off of his chest. Kibum cupped his hands over his phone, holding it against his forehead.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you," Kibum chanted in whispers, collapsing on the bus stop bench, trying to contain the tremors running through his body. Glad for a very long time he was alone.

#i did a thing #man what a struggle #why can't I finish chaptered works?!#how do y'all do it?#SHINee #jinki #onew #key #minho #taemin #fanfic #pastel mafia

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kirishibi · 4 years

Note

Hi so my birthday is kind of soon and because of quarantine we kind of have to “skip” it for the time being, so could I request Shinso, Kaminari, Bakugou, and Kirishima fluff? Sorry if it’s a lot please skip this if you don’t was to do it, love your writing m ♥️♥️♥️

Pairings: Shinsou Hitoshi x Reader, Kaminari Denki x Reader, Kirishima Ejirou x Reader, Bakugou Katsuki x Reader, Todoroki Shoto x Reader

a/n: okay first of all I just wanna say i'm so sorry this took a while to get out. having to ‘skip’ your birthday is unfortunate to say the least, but i hope your day is/was everything you could have asked for and more! here’s some of the boys celebrating with you while in quarantine - happy birthday lovely!

Shinsou Hitoshi

Even without a pandemic, Shinsou wouldn’t be the type to throw a large celebration

Instead, he prefers to make your day special in another way

The day goes by relatively normally, and for a moment you wonder if your characteristically stoic partner has anything planned

Around sunset, though, he asks if you would mind waiting in your bedroom for a little while while he sets up your present

“You didn’t think I had nothing planned, did you? Have I set expectations that low?” He questions with a chuckle

You do as he asks, busying yourself in your room until your surprise is ready

After 20 minutes or so he knocks on the door, signaling for you to come out

What you find, stepping into your common room, brings tears to your eyes

Framed photos of your dates, holidays, and some lazy nights in together decorate every surface of your shared apartment

Carefully placed, lit candles dot the areas surrounding your pictures, illuminating the room with a soft glow

He was very careful not to light too many and set off your fire alarm

“These are all of my favorite memories.” He begins, “To me, it never matters what we’re doing or where we’re going. As long as you’re by my side, I’m the happiest man in the world.”

He presents you with a carefully wrapped box

Inside sits a ring

You realize it matches the one already on his finger

“Now, I’m not asking you to marry me just yet, but want us to have something that ties us together after all of this is over. That way no matter how far my work takes me, we’re always close in some way. I love you, (Y/n), happy birthday.”

Kaminari Denki

Kaminari is… overwhelmed to say the least

He’s never been great at planning, and especially not planning birthday celebrations for the person he loves most in the world

Due to this, he decides to enlist a little help to make the day perfect

He orders in your favorite restaurant for dinner, along with your favorite flowers

He takes extra care to transfer your meal over onto a fancy plate to make it look extra special

He sets the flowers in an ornate vase the same color as your eyes

“I know it’s not much,” He nervously chuckles, rubbing the back on his neck with one hand “But I’ve got one more surprise. Promise!”

After you both finish eating, he ushers you over to your computer

With a few clicks, you’re connected to a video call

Slowly, all of your closest friends begin to pour into the call, joyous exclamations of “Happy birthday, (Y/n)!” echoing throughout the room

Everyone from Class A is there, along with a few friendly faces from B

Kaminari slips away for a moment, reentering the room with a handful of confetti poppers

Everyone on the call readies one of their own

Yes, he shipped confetti poppers to all of your friends in preparation for today

Everyone begins to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to you, though due to lag, the words don’t sync up perfectly and the song is a bit off-tune

At the end of the song, confetti showers the webcams of all of your closest friends, and Kaminari pops the final container, covering you with multicolored streamers

With a shy kiss on your cheek, he whispers in your ear through the sounds of your peers laughing and chatting amongst themselves, “Sorry it’s not much, but happy birthday. Love ya, cutie”

Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou sees your birthday as more of a challenge than anything else

This is going to be the best goddamn birthday you’ve ever had. No ifs, ands, or buts about it

No way is he going to order in food from some lame ass restaurant, either

They can’t make your favorite dish half as well as he can, how dare you even entertain that thought

You awake to a large tray of extra fluffy pancakes, eggs, and sauteed vegetables, accompanied by a side of tea and small cup of warm syrup for your pancakes if desired

When you thank him, he waves a dismissive hand

“Shaddup. What, did you think I wouldn’t treat my girl to some breakfast in bed? What kinda man do ya think I am, huh?”

Lunch goes much the same, with him cooking a high quality, but lighter meal for you in preparation for dinner

You spend the day watching your favorite shows together and chatting

For dinner, he pulls out all the stops

Sets up a table on your apartment’s balcony with white table cloth, red roses, and tea candles lining the railing

The only food he allows to be delivered is your birthday cake at the end of the night

He claims he couldn’t be bothered to cook yet another thing for you

Truthfully, he had never baked a cake before and just didn’t want to screw it up

Refuses to sing for you at first

If you say please enough times, though, he will sing a very off-tune ‘Happy Birthday’

Don't you dare giggle, because he will throw the entire cake off the balcony

As you blow out your candles, he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you into a kiss

“I fucking love ya, (Y/n). Happy birthday or whatever.”

Kirishima Ejirou

Like Bakugou, he decides to make you breakfast in bed

Lacking his best friend’s culinary skills, however, crispy waffles with a side of fresh fruit is the best he can do

When you thank him, he has to stop from crying happy tears

Kirishima feels the worst out of all of them that you have to spend your birthday in quarantine

So, any signs of appreciation for his efforts from you will hit him 10x harder

“You’re my baby, of course I want to give you the birthday of your dreams! I’d give the moon if I could!”

All he wants is to make your day special

He orders your favorite restaurant for dinner, fully aware that if he tried to cook by himself he’d burn the kitchen down along with your meal

After dinner, he pulls two boxes of cake mix from their hiding spot under your kitchen sink

“I wanted us to make your cake together. You know, to make it extra special”

He presents you with matching red aprons

You will definitely want to wear yours because this boy is a messy baker

When your cake is finished baking and fully iced, he makes you pose in front of it for a picture

He posts it to every social media profile he has because “The cake looks almost as you do - of course I gotta brag to our friends!”

After enjoying a slice of your cake, which turned out surprisingly well, he ruffles your hair with a gentle hand.

“Happy birthday, babe! Don’t worry, I’ll take care of the dishes”

Todoroki Shoto

Endeavor’s credit card comes in very handy in planning your birthday

Sure, Shoto could have used his own card, but spiting his father is just too much fun

You enter your living room to a large pile of presents

The pile is about half your height, stretching nearly high enough to reach your chest

Shoto is aware you aren’t a shallow person, nor are you one to put so much weight on material possessions, but he didn’t know what else to do

The pure baby doesn’t quite understand yet how to express his love for you without the help of gifts and expensive gestures

It takes nearly two hours to unwrap all of them, and by the end you’re both fairly exhausted

For dinner, Shoto cooks you the meal his mom always used to make for him on his birthday

“Birthdays were…” He pauses, choosing his next words carefully “hard. Mom’s cooking always made them better. I know today isn’t everything you hoped it would be, so I thought maybe a good meal would help” he says with an unsure smile

You help him cook, though he protests, instead urging you to relax and enjoy your day

He doesn't quite understand that enjoying your day means spending it by his side

Your meal is delicious, the thought behind it only serving to make the food taste better

After all of the dishes are washed and set out to dry, he ushers you to the sofa, wrapping you both up in your favorite fluffy blanket.

For the grand finale, he allows you to put on any movie you’d like

He says you can even play that cheesy romcom you’d been begging for him to watch with you

“We can do or watch whatever you want. I just want to make you happy. You make everything in my life better, (Y/n), I just want to do the same for you.”

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hazelandglasz · 4 years

Text

OMG They Were Zoommates

Based on this post

I really couldn’t resist, and like @tchrgleek said, “Everything is a Klaine prompt”!

On AO3

All things considered, yes, this quarantine is a huge hassle.

Kurt doesn’t particularly like to be forced into confinement, and while he can put on a professional face like pretty much any thirty year-old, he doesn’t like being forced into social interactions through video conferences.

He may be an introvert, but even he needs more than this second-best choice to get in touch with his colleagues and partners.

Speaking of which.

“Mrooow?”

“Oh, stop being judgmental, Wildcat Jackson,” Kurt tells his cat, who is sitting on his bed and looking at him with what is, truly, a judging look. “At least I put on pants.”

The cat looks down at his legs before rolling herself into a ball, away from him.

“They’re pants,” Kurt mumbles. Yoga pants, sure, but they are still pants.

And Kurt put on his pristine pink shirt and his brooch.

From the camera’s point of view, he’s every bit the professional he needs to project for this meeting with their new partners.

The Zoom meeting is not planned before 2pm, but it’s 1:50pm when Kurt logs in, because that’s just the kind of person he is. And yet, he’s not the first one in the Zoom.

“Um, hello? I just logged in.”

The person was away from his computer, and Kurt had just enough time to see a bookshelf filled to the brim with books, manuals and several Funko Pops.

Nothing unusual from a company specialized in developing educational apps for teenagers and young adults.

But then the man slides back in place, and wow, that is not how Kurt pictures Dalton's CEO.

“Hi. I’m Blaine Anderson.”

The man looks like a lot of things—a model from the 1950s, a romantic male lead, a wet dream in the flesh, your pick—but not like the man who sent several emails regarding the intellectual property of both parties and who was a stickler for proper language.

Kurt waves. “I’m Kurt, Pavarro’s founder and CFO.”

Mr. Anderson smiles, waving back at Kurt. “Looks like we’re the early birds.”

“I always prefer to be early. Fashionably late is too 1990s.”

Blaine nods, waving his hand toward Kurt. “Though you seem to know a thing or two about fashion.”

Kurt looks down at his (visible) outfit and cocks one eyebrow at Blaine. “So do you,” he replies appreciatively, swallowing whatever flirtatious sentence was about to follow when other participants join in the conference room.

Blaine straightens up, his hand smoothing down his tie, before smiling to the camera.

Kurt can’t help but notice it is a very different, tighter smile than the one he had before.

“Now, I want to begin this unusual meeting by thanking all of you for agreeing to the accommodations we all had to make…”

---

They are at the very beginning of the negotiations to include Pavarro’s music sheets and vocal coaching videos to Dalton’s latest app, designed for high school students wanting to focus on the Arts.

After a dozen or so Zoom meetings involving different members, it quickly comes down to only Kurt and Blaine meeting through Zoom, either to explain the technicalities ...

“No, Kurt, I’m not saying this coaching lesson is wrong, all I’m saying is that maybe the coach shouldn’t look …”

“What.”

“Constipated.”

... or to compare their business models and projected numbers.

“Blaine, if I may …”

“Of course, Kurt.”

“You seem overly enthusiastic about the potential breakthrough we would have in the Midwest.”

Through the meetings, both Kurt and Blaine have relaxed, both in outfits and composure.

Kurt is this close to say that they’re friends (for want of anything closer).

Blaine sighs and leans back in his chair, his yellow polo slightly stretched over his chest causing a hitch in Kurt’s heartbeat. “It’s where I’m from, Kurt. I need to be optimistic about my home state. I need for it to grow to become a place of origins for artists.”

“Midwest, uh?”

“Ohio.”

Kurt sits up, leaning toward the screen. “Ohi--no way! Me too!”

Blaine looks startled. “Really?”

“Lima!”

“Westerville!”

They both start laughing, before Blaine returns his attention to his notes. Kurt takes advantage of the moment to admire Blaine’s face so close, his eyelashes casting a shadow over his cheeks in the soft glow of his screen.

“We may have been just a teensy weensy bit enthusiastic, though,” Blaine finally says, looking up and surprising Kurt who can feel his face heating up immediately. “I’ll get over it with Wes and we’ll have to meet again in a couple of days.”

“Ah, the hardship.”

“Ha, ha.”

Blaine has mastered the art of talking with his eyebrows, and his cocked one clearly says “I see through your bullshit, Hummel”.

“I’ll let you set up the next meeting, then,” Kurt rushes to conclude the meeting before he lets himself blurt something totally unprofessional and embarrassing. “In the meantime, Tina will send David the singing coaching videos we developed while in confinement, so please disregard the poor quality and focus on the subject, ‘kay?”

“Will do. Take care, Kurt.”

“You too. Good evening, Blaine.”

As soon as the conference window is shut, Kurt picks up Wildcat and screams into her soft belly.

This crush has to stop.

…

It won’t stop, will it?

---

Kurt knows that he’s in the right conference Zoom, because he clicked on the link Blaine sent.

That’s the only element he has to know that he didn’t get “lost”.

Because right now, filling his screen, is not Blaine’s gorgeous mug.

An adorable mug it is, sure, but not the one he was expecting.

“Blaine?”

“Oh shit, ‘Gana, move!”

Blaine rushes into the screen, picking up the smiling corgi and unceremoniously pushing her away. His shirt is opened and Kurt wants to thank whichever deity is having fun right now for the sight, both of Blaine’s chest and of his blushing cheeks.

“I am so, so sorry for that, Kurt,” he whines softly. “I don’t even know how my dog came up here.”

“That’s a cute corgi you got here.”

Blaine runs his fingers through his hair and smiles, obviously relaxing. “She is very cute. And very stubborn.”

“What’s her name?”

Blaine’s blush is back at full force. “Um …”

“Come on, I promise I will level the field.”

Blaine cocks his head to the side and shrugs. “Fine.” He moves away before returning with his dog in his lap. “Kurt, meet General Pupgana Anderson, leader of the Resistance.”

On the Corgi’s collar, Kurt does notice a couple of buttons that give clues about Blaine’s political leaning.

Particularly, a rainbow one.

Interesting.

“Your turn.”

Luckily, Kurt’s cat was just out of frame, lying on his desk to catch the afternoon Sun. He picks Wildcat and presents her like an offering. “Here is Wildcat Jackson Hummel,” he says, and Blaine frowns, resting his chin on top on his dog’s head before snapping his fingers.

“Hey look me over, lend me an ear

Fresh out of clover, mortgage up to here

Don't pass the plate folks, don't pass the cup …,” he sings, not even off-key.

Wildcat opens one eye and bats the camera, interrupting Blaine’s singing in favor of laughter.

Kurt really doesn’t know which sound he prefers. All he knows is that he should have recorded it.

“I didn’t know you were a singer too,” he comments, letting Wildcat walk away in a huff.

“Oh, yeah,” Blaine says, absentmindedly fluffing up his dog’s already fluffy ears. “I was the leader of my school’s choir, back then.”

“Choir?”

“Ok, Glee club. Happy?”

Kurt beams at the camera. “Would be if you had proof.”

“No.”

“So you tell me if I search Blaine Anderson choir on YouTube, nothing will come up?”

Blaine mumbles something.

“Beg your pardon?”

“It. Better.”

Kurt bursts out laughing. “Okay, fine. I won’t look it up.”

Blaine cocks one eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe I will look it up, but I won’t bring it up.”

“Hm-hm.”

“I won’t make it a big deal.”

“Right.”

“Pinky swear.”

Blaine smiles crookedly at the camera, a look of disbelief on his face, before he does hold up his pinky in front of him.

Kurt mirrors him, all while quietly and internally losing his shit over how cute Blaine is.

That level of cuteness and geekiness and just gorgeousness should be illegal.

“Now, back on the matter at hand. Let me show you the new numbers we cranked up for our Midwest penetration …”

Oh Lord, Kurt thinks while putting his glasses on, do not let me focus on the idea of penetration for the next hour.

…

Try again.

---

“I’m sorry, Kurt, but the files have been compromised in the transfer.”

Tina looks like on the verge of tears, and Kurt himself is this close to cry.

“How did it happen?” he simply asks.

“Artie is looking into the tech of it, but in the meantime, we, um …”

“What?”

Tina glares at him. “Don’t bite my head off, Hummel, I can smack you down via video and we both know it.”

Kurt takes a deep breath. “What?” he repeats, softer this time and with a smile plastered to his face.

“We need to re-record the songs we planned to send to Dalton.”

“You know what we could do, instead?”

“Fling ourselves through the window because nothing matters?”

Kurt blinks. “Err, no. No. We’re not going to do that. What we are going to do, is mirror what the musicians from the National French Orchestra did.”

“Play Ravel’s Bolero?”

Kurt shakes his head. “No, but we can have a Zoom conference with Blaine and David--”

“Blaine, uh?”

“Yes, Blaine.” Tina’s smile could rival the Cheshire’s. “What?”

“Nothing. I’m glad you and Blaine managed to build such a good relationship while apart.”

It’s Kurt’s turn to glare. “I see what you’re trying to imply, Cohen-Chang, and it’s not--it’s not that.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I may wish it was that, but it’s not, so can you please drop it and brainstorm something with me for a good …”

“Audition?”

“Kind of, yeah.”

Tina’s smile is softer as she ends the call, promising to come up with a list of songs they wanted to add to their catalogue anyway.

As the call ends, Kurt swirls around in his chair, worrying his lower lip.

Has he been so obvious?

Does every participant into their Zoom meetings see how he feels about Blaine?

Does Blaine know?!

Blaine must know, oh shit.

“Goddammit,” he mutters, pushing himself off his chair to get a well deserved homemade pumpkin spice coffee because he needs it and he’ll be a cliché in his own damn home if he so chooses it.

“Blaine?”

For once, Blaine seems very unfocused today on their meeting. He frowns into space, asks Kurt to repeat what he just said and just seems … upset.

“Yes, sorry. I’m here.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Kurt asks, pulling Wildcat into the frame.

Somehow, along the weeks, adding their respective pets to the discussion has become a signal that the meeting is about to take a turn for the more personal.

Blaine hesitates, before leaning down and picking up Pupgana, who seems delighted to see Kurt.

“So, what’s going on in that cute head of yours?” Kurt continues, throwing caution to the wind, mostly because Blaine doesn’t react one way or another to his little flirting.

Which is both a blessing and a curse for Kurt’s mental well being.

“I had tickets for a play for tonight,” Blaine says softly. “And I understand the lockdown, I understand the quarantine, I understand the necessity and the safety of it …”

“But.”

“But,” he repeats, smiling sadly at Kurt. “There is no way to be sure that the play will be reprogrammed for a later date. I have been reimbursed and everything, but still.” He sighs. “I was looking forward to it, and it may make me sound like an entitled white man, but …”

“But,” Kurt echoes. “I had tickets for an opening last week, too. One of my best friends plays in it, so I had first row tickets too.”

“Oh? Which show?”

“Six.”

Blaine straightens up immediately. “No. Way.”

Kurt can feel his jaw clicking open. “No.”

“Yes!”

“You--”

“And you!”

Kurt leans back in his chair, a startled, breathless laugh escaping him. “Wow.”

“Took the word out of my mouth.” Blaine chuckles. “Which part was your friend supposed to play?”

“Ah, Mercedes was supposed to be Queen Catherine of Aragon herself.”

“Mer--your best friend is Mercedes Jones?!”

Kurt preens a little. “Yep. Since high school.”

“Wow. You keep getting more and more interesting, Kurt.”

His face heats up enough to make him worried about getting a fever, but Kurt knows it shouldn’t have anything to do with the pandemic. “...Oh.”

Blaine’s cheeks do pink up too, but he doesn’t lose his composure. “I mean it, Kurt. You’re probably--no, without a doubt, the most interesting man I have ever met.”

“And we haven’t even met yet.”

Blaine leans his head against his closed fist and stares into Kurt’s soul--that is, into his camera. “Do you really feel that way?”

Blaine’s voice is soft and low. Intimate, in a way Kurt cannot comprehend or translate or interpret in his emotional state.

“I …” he starts, ready to deny whatever Blaine is imply, but he can’t.

Kurt can’t lie to those golden green eyes.

“No, I don’t. Feels like we have known each other forever.”

“It does.”

Kurt sighs, and Blaine follows.

When Pupgana imitates them, they chuckle and look away, focusing once again on arranging Pavarro’s demonstration for Blaine’s board.

---

It goes pretty well, if Kurt may say so himself.

Adding the Beatles has always been a goal of his, if only because his dad loved the British band so much, and performing “Blackbird” to the camera, while Tina provides backup and Artie plays the guitar, along with their teaching methods, was a stroke of genius.

Everybody agrees that the demo is a success. Wes, David and Trent leave the Zoom chat first, having another appointment with investors, and Artie spends some time talking to Blaine about how their codes could be more compatible--a conversation that flies over Kurt’s head--but after a while, it’s just the two of them, alone again in their Zoom meeting.

Blaine seems thoughtful as he looks at Kurt every two seconds, his eyes and fingers otherwise busy typing away.

“I could get used to this,” Kurt says to break the heavy silence.

“Hm?”

“You, me, working together. It feels right.”

Blaine bites his lip as he nods before pushing his keyboard away. “Kurt, I have to tell you …”

This is it, Kurt thinks. He’s going to tell me that I have been inappropriate, that we’re barely friends, that we need to stop talking to each other every day…

“... I didn’t expect to feel so emotional about your performance.”

Ah.

Ah?

“I mean, I heard recordings of you singing before, but that was … You moved me, Kurt.”

“Oh, really?”

“I had to restrain myself from clapping when you were finished.”

“Blaine …” Kurt takes a deep breath. “You know that a lot of the subjects we talked about during our meetings were not my forte.” Blaine cocks his head to the side with a frown. “Why did you decide to have them with me anyway?”

“Oh.”

“Not that I mind, but it just feels …,” Kurt hesitates and lets his silence fill in for him.

It just feels … odd.

Abnormal.

Surprising.

Like it’s leading to something else, please tell me if there is something else, because I am feeling that “else” too.

“You know, Kurt, since we’ve been in lock down, I didn’t think I would--,” Blaine pauses, looking away and muttering something Kurt doesn’t catch. And then, Blaine looks back up, jaw squared as if getting ready to enter battle. “Kurt.”

Kurt has never been more focused on the sound coming from his speakers.

“There are some people you meet along your Life’s journey, and it doesn’t feel like a meeting but like a reunion with someone you already know. When we first met, I thought “oh, there you are”, like I had been looking for you forever, like all my decisions ever since Ohio were meant to bring us back together.”

Ho. Ly. Shit.

“And I know it may sound like a rehearsed speech, and yeah, I did, a little,” Blaine continues, running his fingers through his curls and chuckling self-deprecatingly, “but I didn’t have to look for the words. I had to rehearse to be able to say it all without stuttering over my own heart. Because he’s in charge here, and he told me to do anything necessary to spend more time with you.”

Kurt is about to faint, and he doesn’t even care.

“I know we met in an unconventional way, but I can tell you that all I want right now is to kiss you, if you’d let me.”

“I would.”

“Oh,” Blaine blushes, looking surprised (and, really? Surprised? So he didn’t know?), relieved and, well, ecstatic, really. “I guess we both know what we’ll do the first time we meet without cameras between us.”

“Oh, I do. Describe it.”

Kurt knows he’s pushing his luck, but a cute, intelligent guy just made him the most romantic love declaration, he is high on feels.

Blaine cocks one eyebrow, his smile turns into a slightly cocky one and he leans closer, describing in excruciating details all the micro-actions that would lead to their kiss.

Truth be told, Kurt is no longer a blushing virgin, but it still leaves him blushing fiercely and hot all over.

And that was just a virtual first kiss.

They don’t know how long this confinement is going to last, but Kurt knows one thing.

It won’t be boring with his new boyfriend.

Wildcat Jackson Hummel

General Pupgana Anderson : https://www.reddit.com/r/corgi/comments/b11ngx/pancake_would_like_to_facetime/

#sometimes i write #klaine au #covid-19 au #colleagues to friends to lovers #mutual unrequited pining #fluff #adorable pets

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shaydeoffical · 4 years

Text

Bright as a Diamond. Shinso Hitoshi x Fem Reader: Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Chapter Summary: (Y/N) wakes up in the hospital after our last chapter. Maybe Shinso isn’t an asshole all the time. Maybe he’s got a redeemable quality after all.

Series Summary:

When (Y/N)’s co-worker decided to send a picture of her making a diamond to the paper, her life was over. Gemstone based quirks weren’t all that rare, but being able to make a diamond put a target on her back. After years of hiding in the city, it’s time to hide in the countryside with her Uncle Shota Aizawa and his more than ‘roommate’ Hizashi Yamada. With the promise of training her to be self-sufficient, she’s ready to learn.

Author Note: I cut this chapter in two as it got to big, and the next chapter will be a lot to handle. So I tried to add some softer moments in this chapter. Enjoy

Warning: Mentions of being drugged, mentions stalker, mentions of urination on self.

Last chapter: Chapter Six

Next Chapter:: Chapter Eight

The Barrage

"You didn't tell mom?" I sat up with a start, chest racing. Three men were sitting around my bed, my hospital bed. "Wait, what's happening?" I gripped my head and looked away from the window. A dense fog had settled in over my mind, and situations blurred.

"What do you remember?" Shota leaned forward, gritting his teeth.

Shinso shut the blinds, and I could see just how upset Hizashi looked. His puffy cheeks and red eyes, whatever had happened, must have scared him… scared.

My stuffed animal burning. Hips blistered. More incentives just kept me frozen.

Hands around my throat. Warm bubbly blood. Begging. There was always begging.

"It's okay," Shinso had his fingers pressed to my forehead, and I centered my focus. The fog cleared, and the scent of coffee brought back what happened.

"My work friend. He found me at the cafe, we were going to meet up later so I could see his apartment. He bought me a coffee. Said he added sugar because I was so sweet, but I hate coffee, and I declined. Then he dragged me to a comic shop." Rubbing the sides of my head, I chewed my lip trying to remember.

Shinso's face flashed through my memory, and I focused on other details. Like the gravels in my knees, and the midnight plush. "He was trying to buy me an Eraserhead poster, but I have them all. But I didn't tell him that. Instead, I picked up Shinso's debut buttons, and Kira tore them from me. Then- I got mad, but I don't- it was a Midnight plushie. He said Midnight and I were both curvy, and I corrected him. He had both drinks in his hand with the plush under his arm. Next, a shop attendant came to ask me for something, and Kira went off about how cool my quirk was, and I didn't work for free. "I gripped my sheets, falling back into the bed wincing. "I'm an idiot."

"It's that all you remember?" Shota ignored my self-degradation, pushing my hair behind my ear.

"Shinso." The boy perked up and turned from the blind he'd been fiddling with. The bags under his eyes were notable than before.

"I remember Shinso saving me." The lint ball wasn't totally insufferable, he had proved that today. It might have been his job, but I was grateful. "Thanks, I owe you a couple."

"Don't mention it." I figured he'd gloat, but instead, he picked up his coat and slunk to the door. "I'm running to the convince store, any requests?"

"Anything with caffeine," Shota sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"I'm good, (Y/n)?" Hizashi glanced me.

There was no way I'd ask Shinso for a damn thing before today, but maybe. "Chocolate, anything that will wash the taste of coffee out of my mouth, really."

"Got it." He closed the door on the way out. I pulled my blanket up higher, feeling exposed.

"So, what happened after I went down?" There was a lemon-lime soda on my bedside, and I gently sipped it, feeling the rawness of my throat.

"You were taken to the hospital and had your stomach bumped for retinol." That explained the pain. Shota continued, "Kira got away, unfortunately. We'll have to be careful till he's caught. Did you tell him where we live?"

"No, I said I was in the city. He believed me because I was biking to work every day. Oh snap, work is going to be super awkward. Like will he show up, or will I be promoted to his position." The possibilities were endless, I could even be fired for causing this. I've brought enough trouble to the company as is.

"It wasn't a real jewelry shop." A man with a dog's face entered the room, totting a notebook. "I'm police chief, Kenji Tsuragamae, and I've been aware of a new jewelry shop in town. It was only open for a few hours each day, and we suspected it was a cover-up store. You were let go from Kale's Jewelry last month, and you were made to believe you had a position here. This is a very extreme case of predatory stalking."

"Oh." I nodded, things clicking together. "Oh. I see… so I really am a dunce, huh?" Hizashi took my hand and pushed my hair from my face.

"You're so bright and trusting, it's not a reflection of you." Hizashi coddled me, pressing his forehead to mine, rubbing my shoulder. The closeness was the only thing preventing me from crying.

"We're going to make you sharper", Shota promised me, clasping both my hands. "For now, you need to heal and answer some questions."

Mr. Tsuragamae's questions went by quickly. Things like how long I had known Kira, did he have any friends, what was his daily routine at work. Once he was done, my head was spinning again, and I was ready for a nap. The more I answered, the more apparent how much I overlooked earlier in our association.

Shinso returned soon after, bearing an energy drink for Shota, and a caramel-filled chocolate bar for me. The caramel did the trick, and soon all I could taste was the silky-smooth texture of liquid chocolate and caramel. While eating, Shinso went back to looking out the window, his back tense. He was such an ass, but even he knew when to tone it back.

"Can we go home?" I broke the silence, fidgeting with the hem of my gown. There was no reason for me to sit in an uncomfy bed and be miserable.

"I'll go ask the doctor." Shota took the initiative and left to chase my doctor down.

The nurses had brought me more pain meds earlier and checked me over. But overall, I had been left to my own devices. I could be miserable in my own bed at the least. From what I gathered, Shinso got me to the hospital fast enough that the pills hadn't fully entered my bloodstream.

Hizashi and Shinso had their own little conversation about Shinso's current mission, and I settled for finding my phone. The battery was dead and would stay that way till I got home. It had done enough by getting me help. Still, I wanted to look busy, so I used my sheet to wipe the screen off and shine the case.

"You can go home," an older nurse had followed Shota into the room." The last round of blood work came back clean. I must say you're a very lucky girl. If that boy hadn't got you in here so fast, you'd be comatose. There was enough retinol in your system to kill three men."

"He's not half bad," I agreed, noting the odd smile from Hizashi to Shota. "I've been worse for wear before, but this was something new. Guess I can cross this off my 'never have I ever list'. Now to get home and beseech Hisoka for affection. Plus, get some real rest."

"We'll be back in a few minutes with your papers." The nurse scribbled something on my chart before shutting the door behind her.

"I assume you want to wear the gown home?" Hizashi pushed my shoes onto my feet and tied my laces.

"Can't I wear the outfit I had on?" I asked, getting to my feet, wavering before Hizashi had his arm around me. The three men than froze, looking for the other to say something. "What is it?"

"You pissed yourself." My face went blood red as Shinso broke it to me, holding a plastic bag, that I assumed had my outfit in it.

"No." I crooked my head, scrunching my face together.

"That's just the cherry on the cake." Hizashi grinned, trying to make it easier.

"We all have accidents. under extreme circumstances." Shota took the bag from Shinso and tucked it under his coat.

"Can, can you just toss it. I don't want you to have to deal with that." I laid my head on Hizashi's shoulder and thought of Shinso carrying me earlier...I wanted to vanish. It didn't help that Lint Ball was giving me a pitiful look.

"Washing them is no problem, pro heroes wet themselves all the time. Right Sho?" Hizashi lead me to the door as a nurse brought a wheelchair.

"Not all the time." Shota held tight to the bag and paled.

"Can we just change the topic?" Sitting in the chair, I slumped my shoulders and made sure to keep my gown over my knees.

"The weather's nice." Shinso offered, handing me a peppermint from his pocket.

"It was nice this morning, for sure." Humming, I wiggled my toes in my shoes, forcing a smile.

"Tomorrow will be even better." Shinso insisted, holding open the door to the outside.

"I think so too." Hizashi chimed in, going to get the car to pick us up. The notion that tomorrow would put this behind me was comforting. I'd have to deal with the fall out Akira caused, but he couldn't run forever.

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autumnwoodsdreamer · 4 years

Text

Photographs (August 2168)

.....

Characters: Balthazar Cavendish, Vinnie Dakota, Savannah (mentioned)

Rating: G

Words: 2302

Genre: Friendship

Summary: On their first day (officially) working together, Cavendish starts to realize there’s more to Dakota than meets the eye...

.....

Balthazar Cavendish had only met Vinnie Dakota twice so far: first when he rudely barged into his student time vehicle and then the next day when fate twisted again and assigned them as partners.

It had been a week since that whole incident and today they were to receive their first (official) assignment. Vinnie suggested they carpool and drive over to the Bureau together; still nursing the bruises from the last time he was relegated to the passenger seat, Balthazar insisted he would drive.

Vinnie lived clear on the other side of the city—a 20 minute drive from Balthazar’s apartment near the east hills (well, 20 minutes by airway, but closer to 30 if traffic forced him to travel by road, as it did today). Although the prospect of a lengthy commute annoyed him, he supposed the distance could be a good thing as it lessened the likelihood of them running into each other outside of work.

As he drove, he found his spirits caught in a strange mix of both burning optimism and ice-cold dread. While he couldn’t deny that saving the day and working with a partner had been extremely exciting, that element of unpredictability still bothered him.

He didn’t like things he couldn’t control; he never had. The high regard he held for order and precision had enabled him to play piano with astounding technical accuracy and to learn and practise law with a keen certainty. When he had first shifted his attention to studying time travel, he was sure his eye for detail and reverence for rules would make him a fine agent; now, in light of recent events, he couldn’t help but wonder if it would be enough...

He reached the address Vinnie had described over the phone and decided it would be best to pack his niggling doubts away in a proverbial box and leave it on a very high shelf for the time being.

He parked on the street, got out the car, straightened his attire, and paused for a moment to take in the scene. This part of town was built well over a century ago and the majority of its inhabitants occupied that odd but plentiful bracket of the lower end of middle class. Vinnie’s apartment building stood in a row of similar, blockish structures, all of which boasted bare bricks and wrought iron fire escapes and stood somewhere between eight and twelve storeys high. Altogether, it seemed a pleasant neighbourhood but Balthazar thought it better suited to struggling artists or the blue-collar crowd rather than a Time Agent.

He found and rang the bell for the apartment listed under Vinnie Dakota. Enough time passed that he considered ringing again when the intercom crackled on and a tired voice greeted him.

“What’s up, chicken butt?”

“I beg your pardon?!”

“Oh, hey!” Vinnie exclaimed. “Mr Banana! How ya doin’?”

“It’s Cavendish,” Balthazar corrected, icily.

“Oh, right. Cavendish, banana—eh, that’s just how my mind works. Sorry. Hang on, I’ll buzz you in.”

“I can just wait out h—” he began but the intercom clicked off and the door unlocked before he could finish. With a resigned sigh, he entered the building.

He took the elevator to the seventh floor, then it was “just down the hall, take the first left, and it’s the third door to your right. Ya can’t miss it.” Well, Vinnie had been right about that: it was the only door covered in stickers.

“My friend went to Hawaii and all he got me was this lousy sticker,” lamented a disproportionate pineapple wearing sunglasses and surfing a wave. Another portrayed the Eiffel Tower with a moustache and a beret bidding “Bon voyage!” A variety of stickers brought greetings from Italy, Tokyo, Cape Town, Sydney, and other capital cities around the world (most with their old names no one used anymore, Balthazar noted). Dotted about the place were depictions of random objects like a ukulele and some kind of car, some were types of food like pizza and kebabs, but he couldn’t miss the fact that most were cartoonish caricatures of extinct creatures he had only seen pictures of in textbooks.

Distracted by the odd collage, Balthazar jumped back when the door opened without warning.

“C’mon in, Stretch,” Vinnie beckoned, bringing his hand up to just barely cover a loud yawn as he stepped aside to allow his guest in. “Make yourself at home; I’ll be with you as soon as I find my jacket.”

Balthazar glanced over his new partner’s attire and pointedly cleared his throat.

Vinnie closed the door behind them and turned around, frowning in confusion when he caught sight of the other man’s disapproving expression. He looked down and only then seemed to register that he was only wearing a faded T-shirt and boxers. “Oh. And my pants. Probably need those, too.”

Balthazar crossed his arms. “You should be dressed by now. This is highly unprofessional.”

“Hey! I am dressed!” Vinnie protested. “Just not for work. And, in the future, if you’re gonna get all high and mighty, the least you could do is warn a guy when you’re gonna be a whole hour early!”

“I am not—!” Balthazar began but cut himself off when he caught sight of an analog clock on a bookshelf. In preparing to travel to the past, he had had to learn to read those: both hands pointing down meant 6:30.

He consulted his own watch and his face went red. “Oh, blast it!” he muttered, hotly, as he started fiddling with the settings. “I forgot I had this infernal contraption set an hour ahead!”

“What? You on daylight savings time or something?”

“Pardon?”

“Daylight sa—never mind. It was a thing over a century ago.”

“I set it an hour ahead last week because of my driving test,” Balthazar explained, trying not to sound too sheepish.

Vinnie raised an eyebrow, his expression suddenly turning as serious as it had been when he saw those kids in danger. “Are you that bad at keeping time?”

He quickly shook his head. “Hardly ever; I just really didn’t want to chance being even the slightest bit late for my final exam.”

“You know there’s such a thing as too early, right?”

“I don’t believe so; no.”

There was a moment wherein he thought Vinnie was going to argue the point, but he just shrugged and waved a dismissive hand. “Like I said: make yourself at home, I’ll just be a few minutes,” he said and peeled away.

Balthazar intended to remain in the one spot; he had finished resetting his watch but still felt like a complete idiot and didn’t want to risk any further gaffes. But his curiosity got the better of him and he soon found himself wandering (well, he did have permission...)

He had to admit he held a few preconceived ideas of what the home of Vinnie Dakota might look like. He’d only met the man briefly, but he seemed rather committed to his reckless, blasé attitude and he could only imagine such a person living in a slovenly, malodorous nest.

That was not the case.

The apartment was small and cramped and cluttered, but it wasn’t dirty. There was a strong, unusual smell hanging in the air; although Balthazar couldn’t identify it, it wasn’t all that unpleasant—actually, it reminded him of those old-fashioned restaurants he used to play piano in.

The bookshelf he noticed earlier caught his eye again; this time, he took note of the colourful array of books stacked and lined on the shelves as well as the diverse collection of trinkets, souvenirs, and gadgets. The objects were displayed with little rhyme or reason regarding their order: snow-globes of all kinds and shapes mingled amongst Chinese fans and Russian nesting dolls and defunct devices such as a camcorder, a dial telephone, and a zoetrope. Balthazar didn’t fail to notice that, although most of those things would be considered antiques, they were all in fairly new condition.

After a few minutes, he took a step back and his attention quickly shifted from the bookshelf to the hundreds of photographs in mismatched frames covering the walls, so much so that one could barely glimpse the bright yellow wallpaper beneath. The quality of the photographs varied from grainy, black and white to slightly washed-out, sepia tone to clear and vibrantly coloured.

Balthazar knew his new partner had been a Time Agent for a while already; it was the Bureau’s policy to pair new recruits with full-fledged agents. But knowing this man had already been on missions throughout time and actually seeing snapshots of that career were two very different things.

Quite a few of the photographs showcased places and buildings in different time periods, positioned side by side to highlight the changes through the years; a number featured archaic machines and devices, and more of those extinct creatures (except this time they were real, not just cartoonish representations); but, most notably, the majority of the photographs were candid shots of people.

After casually examining the photos for a few minutes, Balthazar began to register a few recurrent faces. The most notable subject was a young man with olive skin, dark hair, and a short but lean frame; always wearing tinted shades of some sort, always caught in the middle of a laugh or striking a silly pose—without the wild shock of curls, it took him quite a while to identify him as a younger Vinnie. Often pictured alongside him either mirroring the silly pose or with his hand on his shoulder was a much taller, older man with dark blue hair and weathered skin; if it weren’t for the fact they lacked any physical similarity, Balthazar would’ve assumed the man was Vinnie’s father. Wherever the older man was absent, a young woman with a dark, flawless complexion and glossy, violet hair took his place—there were hardly any instances of her smiling and she didn’t seem to care for Vinnie’s antics at all but she must not have completely disliked him as there was one photo of her curled up and asleep in the backseat of a Time Vehicle with her head resting on his shoulder.

There was only one photograph with all three of them. It seemed to be after a mission of some sort. They all looked dog-tired, covered in bruises and dirt, but they still managed smiles for the camera, holding their heads up even as they leaned on each other for support. The muted colouring of the photograph suggested it had been taken somewhere around the mid-1900’s but Balthazar hadn’t honed his skills enough to pinpoint precisely when. Most of interest was a small note accompanying the photograph in the frame; it was just a scrap of paper, presumably torn from a cheap notebook and not at all remarkable save for the short message scrawled on it:

To Vinnie and Silvia,

Count every moment and make every moment count,

Emit Relevart

The Hot War Mission (1964 / 2164)

“‘Hot War’?” Balthazar read aloud, his face crumpling in confusion. “What the deuce is—?”

“It’s everything the Cold War wasn’t.”

Balthazar gasped and jumped backwards, a hand flying up to clutch his chest. “Kidney pie and chips!” he exclaimed. “Don’t do that!”

A now more appropriately dressed Vinnie gave him a sideways glance. “Well, that’s one way to keep it PG,” he remarked with an utterly infuriating bemused smirk. He let out a soft huff of a laugh and gave a small shake of his head as he returned his gaze to the photograph.

Balthazar opened his mouth, ready to say quite a few things—such as “What does ‘PG’ mean?” and “Don’t sneak up on people!”—but the words stopped in his throat.

Something flashed across Vinnie’s expression, something even the bulky sunglasses with their vibrant tint couldn’t hide; it was only there for the briefest of moments but Balthazar didn’t miss it. He’d seen it before, on the faces of complete strangers who gathered whenever he played an old, slow melody on the piano in the middle of the city square.

He turned his attention back to the picture one last time. He couldn’t quite determine if it was the people or the referenced occasion, but he got the sense this was an important piece of Vinnie. He made it a point to commit the little message to memory—what it would accomplish, well, he wasn’t so sure in that regard, but it felt too significant to miss.

Vinnie cleared his throat; the sound was abrupt but Balthazar was aware of his surroundings enough this time around not to jump again. “So,” he said, his smile and easy demeanour returning in a flash, “seeing as we have a whole hour to kill, how’s about we get some breakfast?”

Balthazar crossed his arms and put on a glare that was only half-strength. “I hope you’re not planning to kidnap me and drag me to the early 2000’s just for omelettes.”

He seemed to consider that for a second before shaking his head. “I can’t think of any good places for omelettes... not in the 2000’s, anyway. Nah, I was just gonna make something.” He whirled around and headed for the kitchen. “You like pancakes?”

“You actually know how to cook?”

Vinnie shrugged. “Eh, I picked up a few things here and there. It comes in handy when you travel to time periods that don’t have auto-preppers.”

“And yet you still felt it necessary to hijack my Time Vehicle and travel back over a century just to get lunch?” Balthazar raised an eyebrow.

Vinnie shot his new partner a lopsided smirk. “You’re not gonna let that one go, are you, Stretch?”

#balthazar cavendish #vinnie dakota #cavendish & dakota #savannah #milo murphy’s law #mml #disney #fic #oneshot #one shot #friendship #brotp #my writing

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purplebenjy · 3 years

Text

Jolene || British AU-2018

“Does she know about me?”

Benjy’s voice is quiet, so quiet he’s not sure Forest has heard him. His boyfriend sighs contentedly as he settles back onto the bed-putting his phone face down on the night stand beside them. Benjy knows Forest had been talking to his wife, Christina, by the way his voice had sounded from the other room; there’s a quality Forest adds whenever he’s talking to her, Benjy can’t quite figure out what it is. Does he just lower his voice, make himself a little more masculine? Or is that just what Forest really sounds like when he’s talking to someone he loves?

“Who?” Forest says, his voice playful but Benjy knows better. His mood can flip in a second, especially when it comes to Christina. Normally, Benjy would drop it, but he feels like he can push his luck today. Forest had beat the shit out of him yesterday-something about how he’d seemed to enjoy getting fucked by basic strangers too much when Forest was watching the tapes back. Benjy had taken the bait that was dangled out in front of him, and when he yelled back, Forest made sure he shut up. Benjy’s jaw is still sore-he passively wonders if maybe part of it is fractured-and his bruising is so nasty on his face and neck that he knows he’s got a few days before Forest throws someone else at him-and a few days even after that of Forest trying to make it better, promising it won’t happen again, treating him with sweetness that Benjy has now learned is about as sustainable as cotton candy.

Benjy presses because Forest has never hit him two days in a row. If that’s going to change, Benjy might as well make it change on a risk.

“Forest.” He says, his voice still quiet. His eyes, one still red with the popped blood vessels, meet Forest’s and Benjy latches on.

“Does Christina know about me?”

Forest sighs, contentment gone, and pulls his gaze away as he answers.

“Honestly? I don’t know. She’s suspicious, because she always is. She’s a fucking cunt shrew-I can’t fucking breathe when I’m at that house with her.”

Benjy’s hand is sympathetic as he covers Forest’s, wracked with guilt for even asking but not saying anything.

“That’s why I’m glad I have you, Benjy.”

Benjy smiles at that, studying Forest’s profile and waiting for proof of that sentiment to appear in his expression. It doesn’t.

Later, Benjy will wonder if Forest meant he’s glad he has Benjy because he can breathe around him-truly be himself, even the ugly parts, without judgement. Or, if perhaps Forest meant he’s glad he has Benjy so he can at least have someone to control who has no room to push back.

Maybe it’s a bit of both.

“I wouldn’t worry about her.” Forest says, smiling even though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He gently gathers Benjy in his arms and gives him a kiss that Benjy wants to believe.

“She doesn’t mean anything to me.”

Benjy is on the roof, smoking under a clear umbrella as the rain pours around him. He loves the rain-he always has, he loves how it brings the city to life in a way that only exists on a timer. He’s up to a pack of cigarettes a day-usually smoked when he was waiting for Forest to get home but sometimes first thing in the morning. It helps clear his head and usually makes the pain throughout his body duller. If he wakes up still affected by the pills or booze Forest or one of his guests fed him the night before, the cigarettes make him sober enough to function. If Benjy is doing something stupid like feeling sorry for himself or wishing he was Forest’s only and vice versa, the cigarettes remind him of who he is-and help him get over himself right quick. So does watching the city beneath him, and half the time Benjy smokes just as excuse to people watch-to have something to do other than clean and make videos for Forest.

Benjy’s watching the street, fleetingly thinking about how he could be living on them, when a black town car pulls up and parks. A driver gets out and opens the door closest to the sidewalk, holding an umbrella and handing it off to the man who gets out. Benjy’s heart flutters happily when he recognizes Forest from above-he was early, really early-they’d get most of the day together now. Benjy ashes his cigarette, knowing Forest will like surprising him, he decides to finish this last one, pretending like he doesn’t know any better. He smiles to himself, loving seeing Forest when he’s unaware instead of the other way around, but the smile fades as he hears a woman’s voice call out indistinctly. A woman, blonde and completely un-shrew like exits and runs in her heels around the car, seemingly not caring about the rain. Even from high up, Benjy can hear Forest laugh in response to her, and when he takes her in his arms, Benjy has to force himself to not look away.

Benjy wonders if, or rather when, Forest will tell Christina that Benjy means nothing too.

Benjy hasn’t been feeling the best-a little under the weather, probably a cold. He doesn’t dare tell Forest, who undoubtedly would see it as an excuse for Benjy to try to get out of having guests or participating in the party Forest has scheduled for Friday. He uses the upcoming party as a reason for him taking it easy, and Forest didn’t seem to mind when he texted him that his plans for the day included laying around in bed and waiting for him. He’s naked on top of the covers; partially for the benefit of the camera and partially because he’s pretty sure he has a slight fever, when he hears the elevator ding open. Benjy closes the silly game on his phone and stretches, preparing for any of Forest’s moods, when he hears something that makes his blood run cold.

The sound of heels on the tile in the kitchen.

Benjy has just enough time to get under the blanket before she walks in.

What strikes him first is she’s younger looking than Benjy had been picturing. He knew they had gone to school together, had basically been promised to each other since they were twelve, but thirty seven had always seemed older when it was applied to Christina.

But here she was, blonde and posed and staring at him from the doorway, her dark brown eyes clouded with confusion and a danger that Benjy had seen far too often in her husband.

“And who the hell are you?”

“I-” Benjy feels his throat start to close from nerves, the familiar pull of fear and pain in his stomach as he remembers the hundreds of times the Blacks had chastised him, all the times Barty shook him down, every blow that Forest had landed, they all hit him again, at once, as he stares back at Christina, begging his brain to kick in.

“I-I’m Reggie’s boyfriend.”

It comes out before he even realizes what he’s saying, and he sees Christina’s face cloud over even more.

“Reggie?”

“I-yeah. I’m-he told me to wait for him here? He said this was his friend’s apartment and he would let us borrow it to uh...”

Benjy blushes, praying to gods he doesn’t believe in that she’s buying it.

“Am I in the wrong place? He said his friend was named uh...shit what was it, River or something?”

“Forest?” Christina says, her voice cracking slightly. Benjy nods empathically.

“Yes! Oh my god this is so embarrassing-”

“Cut the shit.” Christina says, her voice deadly, and Benjy’s mouth closes with an audible snap.

“You’re not Reggie’s boyfriend you’re-”

Benjy isn’t going to offer anything, but even if he wanted to speak, he couldn’t. He is certain he is going to be sick.

“You’re a prostitute.”

That word had never felt dirty to him, not really, not until just then. Benjy chuckles, trying to sound annoyed.

“Whose to say I can’t be both?”

Christina makes a noise of disgust but doesn’t push it, pulling her hair out of it’s bun and staring him down. Benjy notices a thin silver necklace with an “E” and an “A” on it-their daughters. The ones he pretended didn’t exist.

“Get dressed. We’re going to wait for my husband. Together.”

Without another word she turns on her heel and clicks out back into the living room. Benjy feels as if he’s moving through mud, his mind already leaving him as he tries to contemplate the depth of Forest’s anger over this.

Maybe, he thinks dully, he’ll kill me over this.

The thought shouldn’t be as soothing as it is.

He remembers himself, grabbing his phone and pulling up Forest’s texts as quick as he can.

Benjy: Christina is HERE. I told her I was Reggie’s boyfriend and you told us we could borrow the apartment.

Benjy: she wants me to wait with her

Benjy: please hurry please get this.

Benjy pulls on the hoodie and sweats Forest makes him wear when he goes on jogs, hoping that will be another clue that something is wrong if Forest comes in and spots him without seeing his texts.

Christina and her beautiful clothes are perched on the white couch. Her pale pink maxi dress fits her perfectly and is perfect for her coloring-she is the embodiment of everything Benjy isn’t- truly feminine and rich and worthy.

“Do you have a name?” She asks, and almost on instinct, Benjy from the club scene kicks in.

“Why? Are you interested?”

He raises his eyebrows at her and Christina’s face sours even more.

“Slag.” She mutters, and Benjy doesn’t correct her. She pulls a cigarette out of her purse and Benjy almost tells her that Forest doesn’t allow smoking inside, but he catches himself. She taps it twice on her palm, sighs, and then puts it away without lighting it.

“If you’re going to stand there and stare at me, do you think you can do something useful like make a martini?”

Benjy scoffs. “Isn’t this your house?”

“It’s my husband’s apartment.” She shoots back, realizing maybe a second after the fact that that’s not necessarily a good comeback. Benjy just keeps staring.

“There should be vermouth under the bar, if you don’t mind?”

“Mmm but I do.”

Benjy crosses his arms over his chest and stares her down-the idea of Forest watching the tapes back and seeing him make a drink for his wife is more humiliating than just about anything else Benjy can think of. More humiliating than the dozens of degrading things Forest subjects him to weekly.

“Where the fuck is Reggie?” Benjy says, mostly to himself and all for Christina’s benefit.

The minutes tick by in total silence and Benjy feels sicker with each one. And, when the elevator finally dings again, Benjy is sure he will expire on the spot.

Forest steps off the elevator and Benjy watches him see him; his boyfriend’s expression shifts from neutral to rage as he takes Benjy in, wearing what he shouldn’t be, to utter confusion and possibly even fear when he sees his wife behind him.

“Christina?”

“Your plans get interrupted, darling?” She seethes, standing, one of her delicate hands coming to rest on her hip.

“Is that what you do here?” She asks, jerking her head at Benjy. “Invite your friends and their little whores over and have fun?”

“What are you on about?” Forest says, his voice cutting, demanding-the voice he uses whenever Benjy steps out of line. He glances at Benjy, understanding crossing his face as he takes him in.

“Who is this? Did you invite him?”

Christina laughs. “Oh like you don’t know.”

“I-” Forest genuinely looks confused, looking between them. “I don’t know.”

“I’m Reggie’s....date.” Benjy offers, doing his best to sound annoyed and not terrified. “He said you said we could uh, use your flat?”

“Oh my god.” Forest says, his voice starting to get heavy with disgust. “Reggie said he needed the time to see his girlfriend you’re...”

“A man?” Benjy offers, crossing his arms tighter. “Yeah, I’ve got a dick the last time I checked.”

“You-you really didn’t know?” Christina says, her entire voice changing-suddenly she sounds so tired and tentative. Her posture sags.

“Sweetheart-” Forest says, turning to her. “Of course I didn’t know-Reggie is a friend of one of my aides, he’s a good time-or I thought he was. I was just coming here to let who I thought was going to be his mistress know that he can’t make it-”

“He couldn’t text?” Christina shoots back, her anger back. Benjy laughs at that, causing both of them to look at him.

“I don’t text my...boyfriends. It’s not how that works-guys or girls.”

“Charming.” Forest says. “Look-I don’t know who the fuck you are nor do I care to, just-go, alright? I’m not sure why you’re even still here-”

“I asked him to stay.” Christina says, her voice small. “I thought you...and him...”

Forest sighs, bending slightly as he puts his hands on her shoulders, smiling at Christina in a way that will haunt Benjy for weeks to come.

“I keep telling you, love. The therapy worked. I’m not-I’m not like that anymore. I’m so disgusted by the thought of it-god it makes me fucking sick to think about what almost was done in this place. You got to start trusting me-”

“I know.”

“I don’t know if you do.” Forest says, concern dripping from every pore of his body. “This isn’t how someone who trusts me would act. This is absolutely mental, Christina.”

“I-You’re right. You’re right. I’m sorry.” Christina says, looking down at the floor. Benjy recognizes a large piece of himself in her now-a piece fully broken down and molded by the man quite literally between them.

“It’s alright. I forgive you. Let me take care of this fucking poof and then I’ll come back up here and we can talk.”

Benjy looks away as they kiss and starts to head to the elevator.

“I don’t need a fucking escort.”

Forest snorts.

“Right, like I’d let someone like you walk around this building. Let’s go.”

Forest escorts him onto the elevator, not unlike a club bouncer, and keeps his expression stony even after the doors close.

“Holy shit.” He says softly, not looking at Benjy. Benjy feels his blood run cold and he clears his throat, trying to think of what to say.

“I-”

“You’re fucking brilliant.”

He turns to Benjy and grins, and Benjy feels a million pounds of stress slide off of him. Forest laughs softly.

“I can’t believe she bought that. God, what a stupid bitch. Oh, Benjy. You’re so good. So good.”

Forest kisses him quickly on the lips and then pulls away, fishing for his wallet.

“Here-go shopping, go get yourself some nice things-I’ll patch it up with her for a few hours and text you when its safe, yeah? Car’s still out front-I was going to just pop in and see you for a minute and then head back to the office but-” He pulls out his phone and texts the driver where to take Benjy, and Benjy keeps his smile in place. Forest walks him to the door and to the car.

“She’s probably watching us.” Benjy says softly, shifting back into pissed off body language. “Tell her I only said I’d keep quiet about it if you let me use the car.”

“Brilliant.” Forest says again, pulling more bills out of his pocket. “Now it looks like I’m paying you off-really treat yourself, sweetheart. I can’t wait to see how pretty you get for me-we’re going to have a great night as soon as she’s out of our hair.”

Benjy nods, gives Forest the smallest smile and gets into the car. He watches Forest turn back into the building and tries not to let jealousy consume him as he wonders if the way Forest makes up with his wife is the same way Forest makes up with him.

Benjy stares at the money he’s still got clenched in his hand and wonders if he’s ever felt more used.

#drabble #a fun and sexy time had by all

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scriptedangel · 5 years

Text

The one where Y/n loves photography and Harry.

warning: none?? ;))

14.06.2019

Y/n loves photography. Her love started at her very young age. Whenever Y/n and her family would go on a vacation, she would be in charge for documenting. It continued to her school life, she started joining clubs in school, which led her in using her camera more often.

Y/n has always been shy, hardly spoken to anyone. She’s just scared that her words would be hurtful, always second guessing about everything. That’s why she likes the idea of photography. A picture is worth a thousand words, everyone could always have his or her own interpretation about it.

She also adores the idea that time stays stilled in a framed picture. How could a single tiny click capture a moment forever?

Call it luck or destiny, but when you earn loads money from doing something that you enjoy. I’d like to call it luck and Y/n is definitely one of the luckiest people here.

She took one picture, the iconic beautiful sunset. She posted it on her Instagram and it went viral. People are commenting about how the angel and colours are perfect. They kept on sharing and sharing every minutes. Then her following grew from tens to hundreds to thousands and to millions.

She was young and her pictures are special. Her portraits show beauty within its flaw. Her pictures would reflect something poetic that people would have heated debates. She became the internet sensation.

At first, the increase in her followings motivated her. She was so determined in beating her latest highest number of likes. She works so hard everyday and it blinded her for a second. In a way she forgot why she started taking pictures at the first place.

Soon she realised that the numbers on her socials are giving her more and more burden. She was more and more pressured to put out better quality content. Thus she felt worn out, her passion was slowly dimming away.

Then it happened. She was slowly becoming less and less active. She rarely posted anymore. She started by taking a break for month, then it extended.

She promised her supporters or “fans” to come back soon but it was later than expected. That is one of the reasons why Y/n ended up disappointing more people. But most importantly herself.

Her management was in riot but they couldn't do anything else, looking at the once cheerful and bright girl turned lethargic and tired just by taking about something she used to be passionate about.

It took her awhile before she realised that she needed a real break. A real one. Y/n begged her management and family to give her space. At first both parties were happy, knowing that Y/n is trying to come back.

But when they realised that Y/n wanted to go to Japan, they freaked out. Yet Y/n didn't back down either. She promised that it would do her good. It took a quite the of back and forth before they agreed upon allowing Y/n to go.

Y/n was delighted but she was even more determined. Knowing that her family and management have her back and they trust her. She wanted to use this as a chance to grow and heal.

She deleted all her applications on her phone. It was back to default. She could only be contacted by her direct family and manager. That’s it.

Y/n decided to go to Japan. She has always wanted to go there ever since she was young. She adores their culture, cuisine and overall Japan itself. She’s off with a small suitcase, a passport and her empty phone on her left hand and last but not the least her camera bag.

Truly, Japan did not disappoint her.

She’s here, with a phone on her pocket and enough money on her other pockets. She's walking around with her oversized pink hoodie and black leggings while wearing a mask. Apparently it’s quite casual for people to bet wearing a mask after all, so she's quite grateful for not being the odds one out.

However, there would be one thing that stood out from her outfit. It would the black camera hanging against her chest by the strap around her neck. It took a few day before Y/n was able to put the strap around her neck.

It really did. I mean she used to hate the stiff feeling that the strap would leave but now she missed it. Every time she would turn her head around, it gave her the satisfaction sound and feel. Or how she missed the weight of her camera against her palm.

She's excited. It feels her plan is working pretty well after all.

In Japan, it’s like every corner, she could snap a shot. The way the Sun glistens in the morning. The sound of the waves hitting the shore. The laughter of those children running around. The way old couples would sit in front of their humble house and smile whenever she walked passed them. She reminds herself to ask for their permission if she could photograph them one day.

Even when the Sun set down, the road is very likely to stay alive. The way banners with neon lights littering across the road. The way the building were built and just the feel was amazing.

She brought her camera up in front of her when she was about to capture an old building with a modern neon light when someone stumbled upon her. She stumbled forward and the person was quick to gasped. “M’sorry.” His familiar voice was deep and loud enough.

Y/n heard the voice and slightly froze for a second. His voice was so familiar that she couldn't help but shake her head and hummed. “That’s okay.”

She turned around and she was greeted by someone with broad shoulder and worried eyes while wearing a yellow hoodie and a beanie and a similar mask like her. Even hidden behind the mask she's certain who the person actually is. Her lips behind the mask parted while she muttered, “You're Harry Styles.”

She was muttering to herself but Harry heard her. He pulled out his own mask and smiled. His posture relaxed for a second and he grinned while nodding his head. He squinted his eyes with his head slightly tilted, as if he was figuring out who she is.

On the other hand, Y/n was legit fangirling. How could she not? The man of her dreams during her teenage years is standing right in front of her with his soft curls an dimple and all.

At that moment, the fanfics that she read on tumbler went passed her mind. She couldn't help but blush underneath the mask.

Her heart was beating wildly and her brain stopped functioning. She remembered back days when she would prepare an imaginary speech or prepare a conversation when this day would happen. However, she couldn't recall at all. Just like in all fanfictions, her mind went absolutely blank.

She took her mask off as she felt like her lungs were cut short. Her lips were still parted and held her hands up, silently asking him to wait and not leave her.

She wanted to talk like a normal human being but she couldn't. She really wanted to ask for a picture but she doesn’t really want to because she wanted to treat Harry as normal person would be treated.

But here she is having a hard time breathing just like a fish out of water.

This did not fluster Harry at all, maybe after years and years under the spotlight, he’s used to these kind of reactions. That is why, Harry smiled patiently while inwardly thinking that the girl standing in front of him is extremely cute.

After awhile she breathed out, “Am sorry, I was a huge fan years years ago.” while taking a deep breath and fanning her hot face.

Harry chuckled while shaking his head, “Was?” His hand crept on his chest, mocking as he was hurt.

Y/n’s eyes widened, “Of course, not.” She put her hands shaped like an ‘X’ while shaking her head. “I’m still am.” She continued rambling.

“Just messing around, Love.” He chuckled while shoving his hand deep on to his pocket while looking at her with a fond smile. Harry was fluttered, really, his heart was full. Knowing exactly who the girl is, and knowing that Y/n adores him makes him smile like crazy.

Her brain was wrecking for ideas on how to make this moment longer. So she looked down and saw her camera. Then she remembered. A moment could forever stays stilled when captured.

It was like she was struck by lightning. She looked to him brightly when Harry was already starring back at her. Her cheeks reddened, feeling slightly flustered but she held up her camera. Harry shifted his attention from her face to the camera.

“I’m a photographer.” Y/n offered and she hated how her voice sound strained and she wanted to slap herself for saying that out loud. She felt incompetent but she couldn’t help and let it slip through her tongue. It’s been so long since she took a professional picture and here she is offering to the man she adores for years.

“Knew that, Love.” He shook his head while offering a small smile. “You’re Y/n,” He continued with a small smirk and his eyebrows rose up, as if challenging her to deny him

Y/n couldn't say anything. Her lips parted again for the hundredth of times tonight. If it was years ago and someone told her that Harry recognised her, she would swing a bat right off that person.

She couldn't help but nodded her head with her heart burning even more. This time, Harry smiled. He followed the news and knowing knowing that she disappeared for quite awhile.

He didn’t expect to meet her especially in Japan. Truth to be told, he adores her. He saw her works and thought that she truly deserves the appreciated she's receiving. Then he continued watching her interviews and he thought that this girl is far too sweet and genuine for this industry.

He has always wanted to be photographed by her or work together with her. He remembered asking Jeff that he wanted Y/n to be apart of HS1. Jeff was actually excited but he came back with rather empty handed. Y/n’s schedule was packed throughout the whole year. Thus, Harry and Y/n never met each other.

“I adore your work.” He admitted and Y/n couldn't help but gasped and Harry grinned knowing that her reaction was genuine.

She coughed up a bit before pursing her lips shy and mumbled, “Thank you.”

“D’ya want to try the restaurant down the alley?” He asked softly. She smiled while nodded her head excitedly.

It took awhile before Y/n has her emotion under control. I mean, who could blame her? She was starstruck just like anybody else.

Harry was actually very nervous as well but being under the spotlight for years, he has definitely been trained well.

However, as the night goes deeper their conversation flows easily. They loosened up and laughed here and there.

“D’ya want’o hear a knock knock joke?” He leaned back with both dimples popping.

Y/n shook her head laughing yet Harry still pressed, “Knock knock.”

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully but she still asked, “Who’s there?”

“Hatch,” His lips twitched.

“Hatch who?” Y/n shook her head with a lingering smile, knowing what’s the punchline would be.

“God bless you.” He laughed loudly and his laugh triggered hers.

In between her laughters, “The fanfictions I’ve read actually made better jokes than you do.” She laughed loudly this time with her head thrown back. As soon as she realised what she said, her eyes widened and so did Harry.

While Y/n was embarrassed, Harry was amused. He chuckled softly before shaking his head again, “Maybe you should link me some of these fan fictions?” He teased her lightly.

Y/n scrunched up her nose in response, Harry shrugged, “I could learn to tell better jokes.” This time Y/n burst out laughing again and Harry took pride in making her laughing this carefree.

When they settled down, Harry offered to walk her back to her hotel. It was nearly 3 am and Y/n was more than glad that he offered. Not only that she wanted to spend more time with him but she felt safer to have a companion on her way back to the hotel.

They joked around, poked one another and laughed together. Y/n never laughed as loud and as free as she did. Harry never felt much more comfortable and happy and carefree. The both of them felt normal for after such a long time. No cameras following them around.

It was like a guy and girl out on a date and the guy was sending the girl back home. It was the feeling that these two people missed very badly.

Although these feelings was cute short when they reached her hotel lobby. “T’night was amazing.” He smiled.

Y/n nodded her head, tucking her hair back, “It was.” She continued, “We should do it again while we’re at Japan.”

Harry tilted his head in surprise and nodded excitedly, “We should.” He put out his phone handed it out to her, “Type in your number.”

Y/n’s eyes widened in surprise but playing it off by nodding her head. “Did this kind of thing happen in your fan fiction world?” Harry asked with a teasing smirk.

Y/n titled her head and bit her lip, knowing this is one of the many cliches in fanfictions. After she typed down her number, she handed it back to Harry.

“Heads up for a message, Love.” He took it back with a faint smile on his face. She smiled and took a deep breath, preparing herself to say good bye.

“Harry, thank you for tonight.” She sighed contently while looking at him with admiration. Harry’s heart tutted slightly at the sight of her. He smiled, showing off his dimple before saying, “Anytime, Love.”

She's living her fanfic dreams and she couldn't sleep. She's too afraid to wake up from her dream when technically it’s not a dream. She laid on her bed while clutching her phone against her chest.

She was smiling too herself every now and then, she squealed and giggled and sometimes would even facepalmed herself when she remembered how embarrassing she was.

She was trying so hard to smile but her phone suddenly dinged, notifying her message and her face beamed brighter. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself before she pulled out her phone.

Unknown number

There’s a business offer. H.

She smiled, knowing H was Harry’s signature. Quickly saving his number. She smiled giddily. It’s been too long since she's excited for an offer. Too long.

to Harry Styles.

I’m interested, go on.

from Harry Styles.

Wanna work together with me for HS2?

Y/n threw her phone before she shrieked out loud. Her inner fangirl was creeping out and excitement running through her vein. She loves documentation especially by photographs. She did this during her school years and she enjoyed it very much so. This would be the experience she needed and she’s more than happy to be part of.

She loved reading about becoming one of Harry's tour crew and all those trope stories and this time her fan fiction dream is coming to life.

Her fingers were shaky and in-between shaky short breaths intake she typed down three letters in all caps lock and an exclamation mark.

to Harry Styles.

YES!

That night, Y/n did not sleep even for a wink. The excitement and adrenaline was just too much for her. She felt a flicker of light and hope. She felt like she’s coming back to live. Even with the lack of sleep, she felt alive.

She’s back with her genuine smile and her lights for photography.

Truly, Y/n did not disappoint herself.

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so,, my first time posting fluff kind of thing... i kinda think this would be my reaction meeting harry but of course i’m sure it wouldn’t end this way,, nor i would be a famous photographer xD

feedbacks are always very much appreciated :))

thank you if you’ve read this far. xx

this not edited yet.

#harry styles #one direction #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles au #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fics #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles preference #one direction imagine #one direction imagines #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles drabble

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pinkykitten · 4 years

Text

I was tagged by @writing-with-melon I hope my answers aren’t complete waste or if time and if so I’m sorry and I love you

Rules: Answer ten 10 questions, ask 10, and tag 10 people

1. What song automatically plays in your head when you look out the window on a long drive?

i dont really have an answer for this. i think i just automatically think about any song ive been listening to recently or any song that has been stuck in my head.

2. Do you have some snacks nearby when you write?

well i live in a two story house so the kitchen is downstairs and im usually lazy busy so since i have a mini fridge upstairs i just usually get water to drink while im writing. its kinda hard to eat and write cuz i loose focus really easily so when i am writing i am writing! i am in the zone! but if i am a little hungry ill usually snack on candy like chocolate kinder joys i love them but they r so expensive or snack on chips but i get like salt on my fingers or i like cheetos so cheetos dust and that just gets everywhere and later my hands and keyboard kinda smell like fart. 3. What do you do to combat creative burnout?

so burnout happens to me a lot so to get inspiration i either read other stories or fanfics which gets my head gears turning or i admire a piece of art or photography or a song. whats so unique and satisfying with writing you can explore and go anywhere with it, hehehe erotic if you know what i mean lol jk there are no barriers with writing just your imagination. there is inspiration any where you go and id advise to never stop writing. even if its a few short sentences or paragraphs about anything even bird poop its still progression and your mind is working and your searching for words like its all good for you bby. 4. Do you use (or like to use) prompts?

i do ill put the link here. im thinking of changing it though to do something different.

5. What is your favorite place to write?

lol boring, i know but my room. my room is really bright in the mornings and comfortable and chill and i have a candle of the pandora ride in disney that smells like the ride so its all good and relaxing and super peaceful plus i have a picture of myself the age of like 9 on my desk idk why but it encourages me and makes me focus to make sure i never get that cringy again.

6. What is a hobby or yous that you usually don’t talk about?

well i like working out HAHAHAHAHA jk that was a joke...get it...cuz i much rather be eatingokillstop. but i really like to draw which i have a art page you can see it if you click here pls look at my failed attempts to be hip and cool with the cool kids and being artsy fartsy. another hobby is i really like to do makeup and nail art, nail art is really tough guys no joke if you do it like you got wizard powers are something. maybe its bc my nails are shorter than pete davidson and ariana grande’s relationship, alright im trying to stop i swear!

7. Do you play an instrument? Which one?

no i wish though. i always wanted to learn to either play the piano or electric guitar cuz H.E.R looks so cool doing it.

8. How do you feel about your handwriting?

it sucks dont even try me. my sister can barely read it like no wonder nobody wants to steal my signature heck they can’t even read it!

9. Can you tell us of a story that marked your development as a person? As a writer?

ok sit back guys, sniff a nice amount of crack and get ready for the most cringy moment of my life but also a time when i knew i was meant to be *inhale* a fanfic writer.

so it was elementary school, i think 3rd grade and for my writing assignment we were given a prompt of idk what the heck tbh i think it was like be outside the box and im like ok imma nail this cuz im a weird child and yeah so i got my papers and pencil and i went TO TOWN on this paper. so i wrote two stories. one short story with a picture to go with it and one long story that yeah i buried years ago. so my first story was about a farmer was about that farming life. he had chickens and dairy. so i cant remember if the cheese was spoiled but doesnt matter. anywho these cheese and a chicken were alive like they could talk in the story and i gave them faces, yikes. but the whole story was the farmer was a b*tch and he was trying to eat the chicken and cheese so they hatched a plan to get away from the farmer. they did it successfully and they ran away. yay happy ending my teacher actually liked that one me too and my school mates were thinking what they heck is this girl on i made a story about how me and justin bieber made cookies for Christmas you know. so then my other story i was more proud of this one cuz it was a tone of paper, sorry trees, and this story was about how a female hippo (girl i was all about plus size and thicker girls and no body shaming) and an male ostrich were kidnapped from their own habitats and taken to become circus animals. failed version of Madagascar hey mine was before the circus movie OK THEY STOLE IT FROM MEEEEE. so they get taken and are treated to harsh punishment and the animals can talk and i think its in the point of view of the male ostrich guy thing. they are in the circus and they start to have this relationship happening. love starts blossoming its all good. im happy with this cuz i believed in love at age of 8. they find a way thru a kick butt scene of the animals escaping and the hippo and ostrich are so in love that they run away together and they have half hippo half ostrich babies and i think i named the species hipstrich or like ostppo idk but i was so proud of this story and when my teacher read it she was worried about me lol i think she thought i might like mate these two animals like secretly idk but she was like it was ok and i was like what this is frickin William Shakespeare writing or like F. Scott Fitzgerald writing. nevertheless it taught me a lesson that nobody else needs to like what im writing the main point and only thing that matters is if your proud of it and you like it and i really did. i will remember that story forever and thats what made me want to be a writer. lol sorry that was a lot.

10. @emdop I’m going to use this great question: Explain one of your WIPs in the most ridiculous way possible.

wellllll im working on my peaky blinders oc story its a lot of drugs money killing weapons jewelry rich profanities like its the show but written from my stubby hands so my oc and whatever its great and so excited to show it to you guys.

MY QUESTIONS:

1. WHAT MADE YOU WANT TO START TUMBLR?

2. IF YOU COULD CHANGE ANYTHING OF THIS WORLD, WHAT WOULD IT BE?

3. WHAT QUALITY IS IMPORTANT TO YOU?

4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE OUTFIT?

5. WHAT MAKES YOU SMILE?

6. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SONG IN THE WHOLE WORLD?

7. IF YOU COULD VISIT A PLACE, WHERE WOULD IT BE?

8. WHAT SHOW OR MOVIE UNIVERSE WOULD YOU WANT TO BE IN?

9. WHAT IS THE SCARIEST MOMENT OF YOUR LIFE?

10. WHAT DO YOU WANT MORE IN THIS WORLD THAN ANYTHING ELSE?

im tagging: @thatlittlered, @ardentmuse, @acciosnapes, @lotsoffandomimagines, @collecting-stories, @blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms, @naughtyneganjdm, @lenahellgizibe and two random followers @spiritsent, @sucker-for-my-fandoms

i was tagged by @writing-with-melon again ty btw, ps i felt so much pressure lol jk 😊

Rules: Answer 5 questions, Ask 5 questions, Tag 5 people.

1. What is your favorite book?

fifty shades of grey hahaha naw my favorite book is obv you all know this is series of unfortunate events but i never usually cry period and i never cry for books ever so when i read mrs. tom thumb by melanie benjamin, its the part when her sister minnie dies i cried so hard idk it was just emotional the wording the way she described her pain it was so beautiful written yet so sad and that was just amazing to me cuz im like this book made me feel things and im like wow i would love to write a book one day and make someone feel something whether it be sadness anger happiness annoyance anything they are having an emotion and that is super powerful to do that with just words. pls go check out that book its a good read. also im a fan of the greatest showman so i really enjoyed it. there are many other books tho that i thoroughly enjoy so much.

2. What piece that you’ve written are you most proud of?

oh my god ive always wanted to be asked this question hands down i am always proud of my platonic gender neutral tony stark fic called in·con·sol·a·ble window to me i wrote it so sad and i was feeling like depressed lol when i saw peter die in infinity war like i didnt know what to do with my life tbh but im so glad that @impetrichorny requested it tysm i just like how its not based on romance or fluff or happiness it is based on when you lose someone the nightmares and sadness you go through and that there is nothing nobody can do about it except just be there for that person so i really like writing angst and something that was out of the box. ive been thinking tho of doing a part two since the fate of all the characters has changed after endgame. who knows tho.

3. What is the last song that inspired you?

well for art it would have to good news by mac miller when i did that kobe bryant memorial on my art page. i dont want to give it away though but ill just say some very powerful womens music inspired my oc writing and making.

4. How do you feel about letting people read what you write?

at first i was scared cuz i thought i wrote like trash which that feeling kinda doesnt go away like some days i feel that way others i feel confident or it depends on the request it just depends but anyways i was always insecure about my writing so when i started writing it was more like lets see how this goes if not ill delete the whole page. im glad to say it went great but in the begging it was hard cuz i kept putting myself down but i learned to accept or just understand that you keep learning with writing you always learn knew things with writing how you can explain something better or you words get more intricate and people see the improvement and you do too thats why i applaud those who dont speak english that english isnt their first language. you are doing a tremendous job and keep practicing cuz you’re gonna make it to the top. ive also learned that some days are not my days and you can take time off when youre not feeling it when you have writers block. just recollect your juices sip some tea go to the beach relax your mind a little and take as long as you need to come back and give it your all. also comments and reblogs and likes a follows those meant so much to me and encouraged me. thats why i cant express it enough how much all those mean to writers, artist, photographers, anybody who is truly trying their hard in this area of social media. its makes a person happy smile and confident in their writing but first train your mind into loving what you make not what others thing. you have to be happy with the outcome that is what truly matters and what makes your writing the best. look at me getting philosophical.

5. Do you get distracted easily? If yes with what?

yes and with porn haha i get distracted easily like very easily homeschooling was really tough for me. music distracts me, netflix, the urge to watch david dobrik or unus annus or buzzfeed unsolved on youtube, heck my farts distract me. i gotta be like troy bolton i gotta get my HEAD IN THE GAME!

MY QUESTIONS:

1. IF YOU COULD BE NAMED SOMETHING ELSE, WHAT WOULD YOU BE NAMED?

2. WHAT PERSON INSPIRES YOU THE MOST?

3. IF YOU KNEW THE WORLD WAS ENDING TOMORROW WHAT WOULD YOU DO TODAY?

4. WHAT DO YOU OFTEN THINK ABOUT IN THE SHOWER?

5. WHATS YOUR WEIRD COMBINATION FOOD?

im tagging: @thatlittlered, @ardentmuse, @acciosnapes, @lotsoffandomimagines, @collecting-stories AND WHOEVER WANTS TO DO THIS IF YOU FOLLOW ME OR LIKE MY STORIES TAG ME ILL READ YOUR ANSWERS. HOPE I DID THIS RIGHT SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING MWUAH

#ask #@writing-with-melon #rambles #writing #tips on writing #unus annus #david dobrik #netflix #buzzfeed unsolved #peaky blinders oc #kobe bryant #mac miller #tony stark #peter parker #the greatest showman #tom thumb #troy bolton #zac efron

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