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blueskrugs · 3 years

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I Wanna Know You | Matthew Tkachuk

I heard this hannah montana song in a store at the beginning of december, immediately thought of Matthew, and then spent a week with it stuck in my head and trying to plan it out. sorry this isn’t a request, but I needed a break from writing them to remember why I loved writing. yikes. anyway, apparently I’m still incapable of writing fics that aren’t based on or inspired by songs. maybe one day...

length: 2.4k words

When I saw you over there, I didn't mean to stare But my mind was everywhere, I wanna know you

Matthew Tkachuk was magnetic. He’d always been like that, loud, the center of attention, lighting up whatever room he’d walked into. He thrived when all eyes were on him, and he lived to make people smile. That’s where you met him, at a party just before the start of the season, in Gio’s backyard on a night that wasn’t quite summer and not quite fall, either.

You were friends with Johnny's girlfriend, and she’d insisted that you come along. She’d told you that no one would care, and she had been right, because no one had paid you any mind other than asking what you wanted to drink. Besides, looking around, you were pretty sure other people had brought plus-ones or plus-twos and threes.

Matthew was holding court in a corner of the yard, always with a shitty beer in his hand and a small crowd of people around him. Your eyes kept being drawn to him, not just for the way whatever stories he was telling periodically sent up peals of laughter into the night sky, but for the way his face lit up when he talked.

He caught you in the kitchen when you were grabbing water.

“I don’t know you,” he said bluntly. You were taken aback. “I mean-” Matthew shook his head. “I’m Matthew,” he said, holding out the hand that wasn’t holding yet another Bud Light.

“I know,” you said before you could stop yourself.

Matthew laughed. “You a fan?”

“Would you stop talking to me if I told you I were an Oilers fan?” You mostly just wanted to see what he would say.

Matthew wrapped an arm around your shoulders and dragged you back outside. “Nope.”

There's a mark above your eye, you got it in July Fightin' for your sister's reputation

It was well after dark, and you’d had more than a few drinks. Which probably amounted to whatever courage it took to reach out and poke Matthew in the forehead where he was sitting next to you at a bonfire someone had built.

“Ow,” Matthew said, rubbing his forehead. You hadn’t even poked him hard enough to leave a mark, but there was something there, a cut just above his eyebrow that had barely healed all the way.

“How’d you get that?” you asked.

On your other side, Noah snorted. Matthew flipped him off. “I’ll have you know that I was defending my little sister’s honor.” Noah laughed outright now. “Okay, she and Luke Hughes were arguing about something dumb down at the Lake this summer, and I stepped in.”

“And?” you prompted, because you could tell the story didn’t end there.

“And I wasn’t paying attention where I was walking and fell off the end of the dock and hit my head.” Matthew somehow managed to look sheepish while grinning as the group sitting around the fire burst out laughing. He rubbed at his forehead again wryly. “My mom says it’s gonna scar,” he added.

“Maybe leave out the falling off a dock part next time you tell the story,” you told him.

Matthew grinned at you and winked. You settled back into your lawn chair and took a sip of your drink, watching as Matthew launched into another tale of something that happened at the lake over the summer, thinking that you could get used to this.

Matthew kissed you for the first time later that night, alone in the hallway as the party was winding down, still tasting a little of beer, and, yeah, you could definitely get used to this.

And valentines are lame So you bring me flowers just for no occasion

The first time Matt brought you flowers for no reason, you were suspicious. It wasn’t your birthday, or anniversary, or Valentine’s Day– and he hadn’t missed any of those things, either. But there they were, waiting on the table in your apartment when you got home from work. You knew they were from Matthew because the card had one of his dumb cheesy jokes on it, but you still didn’t know why they were from Matthew. You snapped a picture and sent it to him, simply asking, “what did you do?”

Matt called you instead of responding.

“What did you do?” you asked again.

“What makes you think I did something?” Matthew asked. You could hear him pouting.

“Why else would you give me flowers?” You were still a little anxious about it, and Matthew wasn’t exactly helping. “How did you even get them in my apartment, anyway?” The Flames were on a road trip, had flown out to Chicago that morning.

“Used your spare key and dropped ‘em off before I went to the airport this morning,” he said. He sounded a little proud of himself.

“Matthew,” you sighed. “I gave you my spare key for emergencies,” you chided.

“And I needed to give you flowers!”

“Matt!”

“Okay, I just-” Matthew cut himself off. “My dad used to send my mom flowers from longer road trips, and I always thought that would be something I would do one day.” Matt trailed off, and he sounded hesitant for the first time all conversation.

You reached out and ran your fingers over the petals on one of the roses in the bouquet. They were pretty, and it was cute that Matthew had wanted to give you flowers, had thought of it while getting ready for a road trip in the middle of a busy season.

“You couldn’t have at least put them in a vase?” you asked, grinning, though Matthew couldn’t see you.

Matt huffed out a laugh, surprised. “I was running late!”

“Yeah, well, now these poor flowers are half-dead,” you told him, holding your phone between your shoulder and your ear so you could root through your cabinets for a vase to rescue the flowers that were indeed wilting a little.

“Then I’ll just have to send you more,” he said.

“Oh my God, Matthew.”

The flowers kept coming throughout that first season together, with no real rhyme or reason: before some road trips, whether they were over a week or just two days, or when he came home from a road trip, showing up at your door and producing a bouquet with a flourish and a crooked grin. It always meant that Matthew had been thinking of you, no matter where he was.

You smile, nеver shout You stand out in a crowd

As Matthew got older, he had developed a habit of adopting rookies. It was entertaining to watch: Matthew, not really much older than a rookie himself, but with an A on his chest nonetheless, going full big brother-mode on all the kids fresh into the league.

Which is why you were woken up in the middle of the night by a phone call from one of said rookies. You listened to Matthew stumble out of bed and root around for a hoodie in the dark, grumbling under his breath about “idiot kids.”

“What happened?” you asked, still half-asleep.

“Fucking ow,” he said, tripping over one of his shoes. “Fucking Zary got in a fight at a bar or something, I don’t know. He asked me to come pick him up.” Matthew had managed to get matching shoes on his feet, and was now looking for his keys. “I’ll be back with him later if I don’t kill him.”

Matthew did not kill Zary, just drove him home and directed him to the guest bedroom to sleep it off, because he did love his rookies, though he would never admit it to anyone.

The next morning, Connor was waiting nervously in the kitchen when you both woke up.

“Coffee, kid?” Matt asked.

“I didn’t start the fight!” Connor blurted.

Matthew snorted. “I didn’t ask, but good for you, kid.” He started fiddling with his coffee maker.

“You’re not gonna, like, yell at me?”

“Do you want me to?”

You laughed softly. “Be nice, Matthew.”

“I’m always nice!” Matthew protested. “And, no, I’m not gonna yell, but you are bag skating after practice for a week,” he told Zary, pointing a fork at him. The piece of fruit he’d had speared on it fell off and hit the floor. “Ah, fuck.”

You're fragile and you're strong A beautiful and perfect combination

For the most part, Matthew didn’t let much bother him. He was good at leaving the game on the ice, not taking anything too personally. He did, however, take his game very seriously. He was always trying to be better, for himself for the team, and he prided himself on becoming a leader in the locker room over the years. He took bad losses to heart, and he was the first to blame himself for any mistakes he made.

The Flames were having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad, well, couple of weeks. Okay, maybe you were exaggerating just a little, but it certainly wasn’t pretty. They were losing more than they were winning– they lost every game on a four game road trip, the games they were winning were sloppy, and they were losing ground in the standings. To make matters worse, in the latest game, Matthew had missed an easy goal on an empty net. Yeah, definitely not pretty.

You made it home before him and waited.

Matthew slammed the front door when he came in, but there wasn’t a lot of force behind it, like he was too exhausted even for frustration. You had been idly watching an Oilers game because it was on, but you turned the TV off when Matt came into the living room. He wasn’t wearing his suit jacket, his tie wasn’t tied properly anymore, and his dress shirt was rumpled.

“Oh, babe,” you said. Matthew made a face at you. “Do you want to change or just-”

“Cuddle?” Matt asked.

“Yeah,” you laughed. “Come over here.”

Matt wasted no time in coming over and flopping gracelessly onto the couch with his head on your lap. You ran your fingers through his hair, and he pressed into your hand.

Matthew sighed, long and loud, ending in “Fuck.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” you tried, but you both knew you were lying.

Matthew opened one eye to glare at you. “I hate this so much,” he said. There was a crease between his eyebrows, and he’d been chewing on his bottom lip. He sat up and pushed his hands through his already messy hair. “I don’t understand what’s wrong, we’re supposed to be a better team than this.”

You really weren’t sure how to comfort Matthew, but you hated seeing him like this. You reached out and took one of his hands, pulling him in for a hug. He slumped against you like his strings had been cut.

“I’m supposed to be better than this,” he whispered, and there it was. Matthew could grin his way through a game, letting chirps and insults roll off his shoulders, but when it came down to it, he would always be worried about being good enough, always wanting to impress everyone. To make people proud.

“Oh, babe,” you said again, but this time your heart broke a little for him. Matthew sighed again. “This is not your fault, you know that. You are good, and you’re a good team. You’ll get through this just fine.”

Matthew huffed like he didn’t believe you, but he didn’t argue with you. You sat quietly in the dark living room for a while, long enough you thought Matthew had fallen asleep.

“Hey,” you said quietly. Matthew stirred and stretched. “You have a couple days off next weekend. Do you wanna drive out to Banff and do something?”

Matthew perked up immediately. “Can we go dog sledding?”

I like how you are with me In our future history

It was the end of the season, and you were at another backyard party at the Giordano’s. You were idly watching Matthew chase some of his teammates’ kids around. Well, actually, Matt was being chased by some and chasing some others. You weren’t sure how anyone knew who was doing the chasing. The other girls were chatting around you, but you were only half-listening as you watched Matthew scoop up a giggling Tillie Backlund and spin her around.

You couldn’t help but think about how Matthew would be with kids of your own one day.

“I’m too young for baby fever,” you muttered into your sangria.

Annica laughed next to you, following your gaze. “He’ll be a good dad one day,” she commented.

“You are not helping!” The other girls were laughing, now, too.

“Have you two ever really talked about the future?” Meredith asked.

You scoffed. You hadn’t even been together for a year yet. “Not really,” you admitted.

Your eyes didn’t leave Matthew as he flopped into the grass and let the kids swarm him. And yet. Matthew hadn’t stopped talking about how much he couldn’t wait for you to come down to St. Louis this summer, to really meet his family, to spend time down at the lake with everyone. How much his family was going to love you.

You’d always dreamed of your future, of a picture-perfect wedding and a few kids and a dog. Growing up, the man of your dreams had always been just that, a dream, but lately when you thought about the future, Matthew was always there. That certainly felt like something important.

After a few more minutes, Matthew extricated himself from the small mob of kids and made his way over to you, pulling the empty chair next to you close and kissing your temple as he dropped into it.

“What’re you guys gossiping about?” Matt asked, plucking your glass from your hand and taking a drink. He made a face, but didn’t give it back to you.

“You’re great with all those kids,” Lauren said pointedly. Matthew beamed.

Your group dissipated a little not long after that, and Matthew tugged you out of your own chair and into his lap. He poked you in the side a couple times.

“You’re awfully quiet.” You made a noncommittal noise. “What’re you thinking about, babe?” he asked.

You nosed at his jawline, pressed a kiss there. “You ever think about having kids?” you murmured.

Matt’s arms tightened around your waist, pulling you closer into him. “Yeah, of course.” He was smiling softly at you. “Oh.”

You giggled a little. “Just one day,” you added.

Matthew kissed you, just a quick peck. “Yeah, one day,” he said.

One day didn’t feel so far away if you knew it would be Matthew by your side. Maybe you’d be used to his antics by then.

And maybe someday down the road I'll sit back and say to myself, "Yeah, I thought so"

#cait writes things #matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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bqstqnbruin · 4 years

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I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair

I reached that 500 followers everyone! So in celebration of all the people who I love dearly, this is the first part of my 10 things I hate about you series that I’m doing.

Heads up that the next part might take a while to post, especially since I’ve been posting the work I get each week, y’all see the amount of stuff I have to do. Part two is already started, but it’s just gonna be a minute before it’s ready.

I hope you guys like it, and thank you again for 500 followers 💛💛💛

Read the whole series: I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair // I hate the way you drive my car // I hate it when you stare // I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind // I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme // I hate the way you’re always right // I hate it when you lie // I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry // I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call // But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all

________________________

“How long are we going to keep dancing around the fact that you and I are meant for each other?”

“How long is it going to take you to understand that I hate so much about you?”

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

“Alright, chica, are we meeting the guys there, or are we stopping by their place? What’s the plan for tonight?” Evelina asks, sitting down on the couch next to you.

“Last I heard, we were meeting them at their place but if you don’t get ready fast enough, we have to meet them there,” you tell her, lifting her off the couch before she can get too comfortable and make you late.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, your other best friend texting you a stupid meme that he found online, followed by a sexual innuendo that was normal for your friendship. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at how he talked to you, a stupid smile covering your face as you drag Evelina to her room in the hopes that she’ll get ready in a timely manner.

“Is that your man?” she asks, sitting down in front of her mirror, hopefully, to start her makeup.

“He’s not my man,” you protest, not tearing your eyes off your phone, responding to him with an equally snarky and somewhat crude response.

“You’re sexting him as we speak. I can tell, you have that stupid grin on your face that you only get when it’s him replying to you,” she fires back, starting on her makeup. God you hoped she wouldn’t put much on tonight; you were supposed to be meeting the guys in half an hour at one of their houses.

Her comment, however, makes you look up from your phone. “I don’t think you know what sexting is. I am fully clothed. This is not sexting.”

“I will look up the definition of sexting and make us late. But, are you really wearing that tonight?” she asks you, making eye contact with you through her mirror just in time for her to see you roll your eyes. “Take something from my closet; if you’re going to see him tonight then you need to be wearing something better. You get up from her bed in a huff, going to her closet to try to find something there that was remotely your style. Evelina’s clothes were great, they just weren’t things that you would wear. “And you don’t need clothing off just to consider it sexting.”

“He’s literally just my other best friend. Maybe you’re jealous that I’m closer to him than I am to you!” you yell to her from her closet. “And hurry up with the makeup or I’m picking out your outfit.”

“That’s mean,” she says, a slight dig on your sense of style, or lack thereof. “I just need my eye makeup, calm down.” She leaves you in silence to rummage through her wardrobe. You hope that her non-follow up meant that she had dropped the conversation topic about your admittedly weird relationship with him.

She eventually meets you in her closet, pulling out the perfect outfit for herself in a matter of seconds while you struggle to find something. There was a reason why you were wearing the jeans and sweater you already had on; you didn’t like anything else at this point. “What about this?” she asks, handing you a crop top and a flannel to go over it. You give her an unsure look, not really wanting to change at it was. “Come on!” she begs, “This is so much sexier than what you have on now.”

“Why do I need to be sexy?” you argue, taking the clothes from her and changing into them anyway.

She rolls her eyes, knowing that the two of you have the same conversation nearly every week. “You literally sext him constantly,” she repeats in a sing-songy voice.

“It’s not sexting!” you say at the same time, her mimicking you with a slightly higher pitched voice than the one you already make. “You clearly like him. You never come home with me when we go out with them.”

“Maybe that’s because I go home with someone else.”

She laughs, calling your bluff, “You go home with the same curly-haired boy every single week. Admit it: you’re in love with Matthew and he’s in love with you.”

“We’re. Just. Friends,” you argue again, going out to see how the outfit looks on you. “Are you sure this looks alright?” As much as you hated the idea of the crop top, revealing as much skin as you did, she was right that it looked better on you than the sweater.

“Something’s missing,” she says, standing behind you. “And you literally send me a Snapchat from his bed every weekend. He’s never wearing a shirt in those snaps, I might add.”

She leaves you to stare at yourself in the mirror. She could not be more wrong about your feelings for him: he was your best friend, that was it. “He just sleeps without a shirt, the same way you don’t wear pants when you sleep. That’s right, I know you put those shorts on when you wake up.”

“We’re roommates. You know everything about me. That’s not a weird thing to know,” she says. “Why are you so stubborn to admit that you like him?”

“I hate way more about him than I like,” you try to counter. The same argument every week meant that you were running out of original ideas about how to tell her the same thing.

She comes out of her closet, holding a pair of black wedge booties, shoving them in your hands. “Name one thing you hate about him.”

“I hate the way he wears his hair. He’s got amazing curls and yet he lets them hang over that weird side shave of his? Either have it shaved like he did when he was drafted, or go full curls. Pick one.”

She rolls her eyes, getting her own shoes on as your phone buzzes on her bed. “That’s weak. He’s also texted you five times in the last ten minutes.”

“Probably because he’s wondering why we’re running late, even though he knows you’re never on time for anything.” She tosses you your phone. You see the messages asking you where you are, telling you to just meet them there because the guys got too antsy waiting for the two of you to be on time for once. “That’s something I hate about you: you’re always late,” you tell her, hoping that she would drop the subject.

“Join the club. So does my mom.” She gets up, pulling you up with her and admiring the two of you in the mirror before turning to face you. “If you can think of ten things that you hate about Matthew Tkachuk, ten legitimate things that overpower your ability to love him, then I will drop the subject of you and him dating entirely until you bring it up yourself.”

You look at her, trying to figure out if she were serious or not. You loved Evelina more than anyone, definitely more than you loved Matthew, who you didn’t love at all. But her biggest fault was her constant need to gossip. “Does the hair thing count? And how long do I have to come up with the list?”

“Fine. And I’ll give you a month, starting now. In one month, if you don’t have nine more reasons for hating him, then you’re going to hear about how you and him should be together until you get married. If not, then you have to ask him out on a date.”

You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to have to ask him out if you can’t give her the ten satisfactory reasons. But, come on, you could think of so many things you hated about him, just none are coming to mind. “Deal,” you decide, grabbing her hand to lead her out the door.

“You will get married to him, though. I’ll be maid of honor obviously.”

“Keep this up and you won’t even be invited, and neither will Matthew because I won’t be marrying him.”

“We both know that you’re going home with him tonight,” she says, referencing the point she made earlier.

You couldn’t go home with Matthew tonight, and you knew it. If you didn’t have someone else to go home with, then you would have to, though. Or you could just go to your actual home. Pulling up your messages, you type out a message to Matthew: ‘Unless we can both find someone we’re interested in, then we go home with each other alright?’

‘So, both of us go home with someone or we go home with each other?’

‘Yeah, sound good?’ You didn’t care if he wanted that or not. You had to convince Evelina that you weren’t interested in Matthew, first with the list, second with going home with someone else.

‘Just come home with me, like you always do. We can do something different tonight if you’re interested?’ he replies, earning an eye roll from you.

‘Like what?’

‘We obviously both know what we want from each other’

‘Haha, no.’

‘Sad but fine :(’ he sends. Staring at his phone, the three dots appearing and disappearing as you try to find the words to say to him, he wanted nothing more than to be the one who took you home tonight.

You and Evelina get to the bar, not really wanting to see the boys. As soon as Matthew saw you, you knew he would have his hands all over you, but that was it. He would never try to kiss you or anything, even if he wanted to. Even if you were oblivious to the fact that he wanted to.

The entire thing was just confusing. You loved the relationship you had with him, but you knew it was never going to go anywhere. You didn’t want it to. You just had to find someone else to go home with tonight. Ideally, you would fall in love with them and never have to think about Matthew as more than your friend for the rest of your life.

Scanning the bar, you couldn’t see anyone that remotely interested you, other than the usual suspects. The boys had led you to a bar that you’ve frequented enough times that the bartenders knew your drink order on sight. It also meant that you’ve seen the patrons of the bar enough times to know that unless someone new walked through that entrance door tonight, you were going home with Matthew. Unless you could convince one of his teammates to go home with. Maybe you could go home with Elias? Or Noah, worst case.

The same group of friends that was there every weekend was sitting in the front corner, a group of college students who were probably underage sitting in the back, some wine moms probably talking about how horrible their husbands are for buying the wrong brand of designer purse for their birthday presents were sitting in the front. The guys and now Evelina for that matter were nowhere to be seen, meaning they were in the back room, probably hoarding the pool table, like they did every time you guys came here. Not seeing the guys also meant not seeing Matthew.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t see you. As soon as Evelina bounced into the room, his mind was occupied with the thought of finding you. Then when she told him that you were dressed in some of her clothing? He could feel himself going crazy trying to picture what you were wearing, knowing some of the outfits he had seen your roommate in. All he had to do was convince you not to go home with another guy. That was going to be easy, right? He stands by the bar, out of your line of site, just to admire how you looked. Evelina knew damn well what she was doing when she picked that outfit for you. She had to know seeing you in that would drive Matthew crazy like it was.

You nearly forgot about him, thinking only of your options of who you could go home with when you felt him come up behind you, your entire body tensing up as his hands snaked their way around your waist, pulling you close to him. Your breath stopped when his thumb hooked onto the belt loop of your jeans. He leaned in, his hot breath sending a chill down your spine, letting out a whisper, “Just come home with me tonight. I’m gonna make you cum so hard.”

You exhale, rolling your eyes, running your tongue over your teeth. You knew he would say something like that to you; it was the exact type of statement that you would text each other constantly. He couldn’t see the smirk on your face that you know would drive him crazy. “What, to my senses?” you whisper back. His hands drop long enough for you to turn around to face him, draping your arms on his shoulders just for him to pull you back in to him, leaving no space to escape with your back pressed to the bar counter. “Don’t be crude. You know our deal, Matthew. We just made it, you can’t be that forgetful.”

“And who do you see here that you would be remotely interested in besides me?” he teases. “The guy macking on a girl on the other end of the bar, or the college kids who may or may not be legal?”

“The night is young, Rat Man,” you call him the nickname you knew he despised, ruffling your hands in his hair, tangling your fingers in the curls. “Maybe instead of looking at me, try going for those girls that just came in already can’t seem to keep their eyes off you.” You motion to the table of girls sending you daggers just over Matthew’s shoulders.

“Why would I do that when I have you already right in my arms?”

You lean in, running your hands down his body. You could feel his heart racing at your touch, knowing you were driving him crazy with every word you uttered, “Because we both know that’s not something we do,” you tease him, getting an idea as the guys filter into the main bar area. “Worst-case scenario, I’ll go home with Elias.”

He pulls away from you, trying to hide the pain he was feeling from coming through on his face. “Why would you do that?”

“Have you seen Lindy? You know I’ve always had a crush on him, why not act on that?”

“Because I would hate that?” he questions. You had to know he would hate that. There’s no way you could be so oblivious to the fact that his ‘jokingly sexual texts’ weren’t joking for the most part, right?

“Maybe that’s why I do it,” you tease. Nope, you were oblivious. Even though Evelina had told you earlier, you thought she was lying. “So, where is he?”

Matthew bites his lip, debating on telling you where his teammate was or not. He couldn’t let you go home with Elias, but you know he’s single. He could just tell you that he didn’t come tonight, but then what happens when you spot him. What if he just said Lindy had started seeing someone recently? “I don’t know,” is all he can tell you. He can’t lie to you. Not if this was something that had the potential to make you happy.

“Then I’m gonna go find him,” you say, kissing him on the cheek and weaseling your way out from his grip. You were determined not to go home with him tonight. Evelina was wrong about the two of you being in love, and this was the first step in proving it. Actually, the second, the list was the first step. You just needed nine more things.

“What the hell was that?” Matthew hears a voice snap him out of the trance you sent him into while he watched you walk away to find his teammate. He looks next to him, Evelina sitting there. He could not read the girl to save his life: was she mad? Was she actually confused? The girl only showed emotion with her voice. Either that or Matthew was just oblivious when it came to reading her.

“What are you talking about?” he pretends not to know, signaling to the bartender to get him another drink. If he had to watch you go home with his friend, he might as well be able to forget about it come morning.

She rolls her eyes at him. “I just had this conversation with her. How are you both so dumb?” she says off to the side before sighing and looking at Matthew, “You clearly both love each other.”

Matthew looks at her, the panic written all over his face. “Wh-what?” he stammers out. No one knew he’s liked you for a while now. At least, he hadn’t told anyone. Was he that obvious? Of course he was obvious, he blatantly flirted with you all the time. “We are not in love with each other.”

“Oh, stop lying, everyone but Y/N knows that’s not true. You two will be going out on a date by the end of the month,” she says, staring down at her drink. The confidence in her voice was baffling, considering Matthew didn’t even think he could ever convince you to actually date him. How did Evelina do it?

“You’re one of the first people to tell me that I’m an idiot so I really need you to give me more explanation. We both know I can never figure out what you’re saying to me.”

She sighs, taking a long sip of her drink. “I made a bet with her: if she can come up with ten things that she hates about you by the end of the month, then I’ll stop talking about you two for the rest of your lives. If not, then y’all are going on a date.”

Matthew could feel himself starting to panic. “Only ten things? Are you joking? There are at least five guys in the NHL who could think of fifty. My own teammates probably have thousands. My dad probably hates more things about me than he likes!” he starts to spit out. This was not going to end well, and he knew it.

“Oh, come on,” she says, rolling her eyes yet again. “If she really didn’t like you, then she would have come up with something better than the way you shave the side of your head like that.”

He subconsciously lifts his hand to run it along the shaved sides she was talking about. “That’s all she could think of?”

“That’s it. I know Y/N better than anyone: she’s going to try to think of ten things and she’s not going to come up with them and she’s finally going to realize that she loves you.”

“This is either going to be great or awful.”

“Which one do you want it to be?”

“Great, obviously, but how are you sure it’ll end up with the two of us together?”

She looks at him and just smiles. He couldn’t tell if it was because she was trying not to laugh at how dumb he was or because she was genuinely happy or hopeful. “She’s going to figure out that you like because and love despite. It’s a saying for a reason.”

Before he can say anything, the two of them are interrupted by the sound of you and the rest of the boys roaring with laughter. They both find the group through the crowd to see them all huddled around Elias going on a rant about something. Evelina drags Matthew over, plopping him down next to you, leaving you sandwiched between him and Elias.

“What’s going on?” Evelina asks once he finishes his rant.

“We’re playing ‘don’t get me started,’” you explain, subconsciously settling into Matthew as he drapes his arm behind you. “Elias was just talking about the idea of a ‘puck bunny.’” Evelina raises her eyebrow, egging you on to continue, “He thinks the concept is dumb and that women should be allowed to like the sport without being accused of wanting sex and all that jazz. We love a feminist,” you coo, playfully nudging Elias as he smiles. Matthew could feel himself going crazy at the site of it, putting his arm around you as if to mark you as his.

Evelina raises her glass, “Thank god, you’re a good man, Lindy,” toasting to him before setting her glass down. “Who’s next?”

“I guess it’s me?” you say. “Someone give me a topic.”

“Gifted Education Program in US education,” Evelina says, already knowing your feelings about it. The alcohol in your system was only going to make the rant better.

“Don’t get me started about the Gifted Education Program,” you start, already feeling yourself get heated even though there was a smile on your face, playing perfectly into the game that you and the guys had started to play. “It had to be one of the worst things, if not the worst thing that has ever happened to me. And all because of a fucking standardized test that I took when I was seven years old. What the hell kind of school system tells a child they’re ‘gifted’ because of a stupid test that they don’t care about? I mean, if Matthew here went to school with me and took the same test,” you start, looking over at him, feeling the heat rush to your face as you prepared for his reaction to what you were about to say, “He could have guessed on the entire test and been labelled as ‘gifted.’ Does he seem like someone who would be ‘gifted’ academically?”

The guys laughed around you as the two of you just stared at each other. Part of him hated how easily you were able to chirp him, knowing that he could never find it in him to chirp back.

“I mean, what the hell does the gifted program even do? It pulled me out of class and made me miss instruction time which I then had to teach myself what I missed. And for what? To be a defense lawyer for the Big Bad Wolf from the Three Little Pigs? I didn’t even get to plan what I said by myself: I was given a script and had to memorize it. How is that gifted education? What does that promote? When we read The Indian in the Cupboard? When we did math problems that we were told high schoolers had issues solving? Or, how about the way we wrote a newspaper every single week but since we only worked on it for thirty minutes, we never published a single issue. I don’t even know what my section of the paper was.”

You keep going on about the gifted program, the guys laughing more and more. Matthew couldn’t focus on what you were saying, he was too busy focused on your hand, which you didn’t even realize kept grazing his thigh, driving him crazy, just like everything else you did. He pulls out his phone, searching for Evelina’s contact.

‘Are you sure this list is going to work in my favor?’

She snaps out of listening to your rant, trying to catch her breath as she looked at her phone. Looking between you and Matthew, she smiles at him, the first look he was able to properly read: it will.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagines #ratty matty #calgary flames #calgary flames imagines #flames #flames imagines #hockey #hockey imagines #nhl #nhl imagines

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jenosslut · 3 years

Text

sugary euphoria

pairings: mark lee x fem!reader

genre/s: fluff, suggestive, angst, romance

details: strangers to lovers!au, high school!au

warnings: suggestive content, suggestive humor, explict language

word count: 3k

synopsis: where two sunset lovers experience feelings they never knew existed through the journey of adolescence.

a/n: i absolutely hate how this turned out im so sorry. a special thank you to @navyhyuck, @heartyyjeno and @neojaems for beta reading this. an even more special thank you to @hunjins for always believing in me no matter what.

taglist: @hunjins @neovrse @mrkcore @moonbeamsung @jjikyuu @mellowvoidexpertfriend

couldn’t tag: @markslovelymaid

02.09.2016

you got me breathless, got me begging you to drive me insane

The weather stays warm, in hopes of smiling on everyone. The buoyant sun rays travel directly into the brunette’s eyes, though he doesn’t whine in exasperation like many would do as he is surrounded by his most favored people.

Ecstatic is how he feels around people he loves, and Mark absolutely adores his friends. Those six people- whom he labels as ‘idiots’- aid him to hold onto an endless amount of belligerent days, especially at school.

Even though Mark isn’t exactly the best with words and doesn’t prefer to demonstrate verbal affection, the legitimately adorable laugh escaping his lips whenever he’s around them is enough to let everyone acknowledge the amount of adoration he holds for the six boys.

“Are there two butts or one butt?” He hears Donghyuck question, who has an over dramatically serious expression accompanied with lips shaped in a pout pressed on his face.

“One butt Dongfuck, one butt.” Renjun is the one to respond between gritted teeth and heavy breath, thoroughly devastated with the unnecessary discussions Donghyuck never seems to leave alone.

“There’s two! They’re separate!” Chenle exclaims in an avoidably resounding manner, causing a couple heads to involuntarily shoot towards their direction in inquisitiveness; silently judging the group of boys.

“Why are we having this conversation again?” Jeno states, wrapping his arm around Jisung’s shoulder who happens to nod, displaying agreement in the older’s words.

“Ask Dongtruck.” Renjun says, raising his arms upwards in defence.

“Yeah ask Dongtruck- wait what?” Donghyuck continues, then widens his eyes at the realization; turning his head towards Renjun as his jaw commences to part.

“I’m selling a Dingdong for free, contact me for details!” Chenle screechs, throwing his hands towards the air as the boys surrounding his figure stare at him in incredulity. Many people’s attention switch onto the group of boys again, allowing them- except Chenle- to give reactions out of embarrassment.

“When will you learn to like, shut the fuck up?” Renjun silently shouts at Chenle’s face in exasperation, biting his bottom lip as he runs his hand in between his hair.

“We’re supposed to bully Yuckie here, not me! Gosh, what a traitor.” Chenle responds, letting a dramatic sigh escape his lips, poking his tongue inside his cheek.

“If only you used the creativity you use for Hyuck’s nicknames for pragmatic reasons.” Jeno states, shaking his head.

“How do you even know what pragmatic means?” Mark questions- more to himself- in a lower tone, glancing at Jeno.

“I’m not Renjun, Mark.” Jeno replies, patting Mark’s back as Mark nods at his friend’s words.

The moment Mark Lee turns his head towards the side, his eyes witness a smile; looking dazzling as ever. The sight of you standing exquisite, the most guilelessly enticing expression sitting delicately on your features is enough to cast anyone under your spell.

Your friend says something, you laugh again. Your eyes meet as you involuntarily turn your head towards his direction. Mark’s breath gets caught in his throat, thoroughly overwhelmed. You send him a wave, then boom.

Spark.

Mark Lee bewitches under your spell.

13.11.2016

I see rainbows when i think of us

First Date

First dates are cute, adorably delighting. Kind of awkward. But that’s fine, because it’s delirious. Maybe not euphoric, but definitely a form of ecstasy.

A new experience, a new person. Something contrasting, something exciting.

It’s not the transcendence that makes it appealing, because no first date is perfect. It’s the imperfection, the sheepish smiles shared throughout the day, the embarrassing-feeling sentences that appear cuter than embarrassing.

Maybe the occasion is cliché, maybe it’s not worth enough to be included in a million-selling novel. But the experience is worth it. A simple exchange of ice cream flavors, simple exchanges of words as you amble around a keenly alive park. Cliché, but new. Cliché, but delighting.

Things are a bit less expected in Mark’s case.

The arid leaves fall as a gospel choir, harmonized in such a way that celebrates each hue and shows how they complete each other. The fallen leaves create an alluring pathway as you amble exquisite with Mark besides your figure, hand in hand.

“I think i’m seeing rainbows.” You state breathily, head falling on top of Mark’s shoulder; coming in contact with the soft fabric of his maroon jacket.

“Where? It’s dark though, i don’t think that’s possible,” Mark responds, his eyes scanning through the sky involuntarily as he takes your words legitimately.

“It didn’t rain, it’s not sunny either.” He continues on analyzing his surroundings, not exactly sure of what you meant with the words you had previously put together.

“You make me see rainbows.” You smile, astonished at his oblivious nature.

“How do i do that?” He asks, eyes slightly wide as his lips unintentionally form a small pout.

“I was trying to be poetic, Mark. I know it was bad, you could've just gone along with it.” You let out a playful scoff, the small yet absolute smile continuing its appearance on your lips.

“No no it wasn't bad, i just-” He rambles.

“Oh my god, i’m joking. Calm down, i was just trying to say how you made me happy.” You let out a full hearted laugh this time, clearly amused.

“Oh…” Is all that Mark lets out at the realization, head turning towards the side in embarrassment as his heart skips a beat.

Cute, you think to yourself.

And yes, Mark Lee is indeed an adorable boy who enchants you in even more bewitching experiences.

01.02.201

I love the way I light up when you call me

Your feet play with the treacherously empty and dry looking sand while concentrating on the undulating sound of the shallow turquoise ocean. The majestic ocean seems to be wrapped in a darker color, which could easily be blamed on the endless darkness of the sky caused by the time being nearly five in the morning.

Your head lays on Mark’s shoulder while the jacket he had given you minutes prior- insisting that you were shivering- sits on your shoulders. He holds your body close to his own, feeling an- what he labels as- unreasonable urge to protect you from anything that could occur.

You sit there, a serene feeling captivating you as you listen to each other's alleviating breaths and heartbeats. You throw small sets of words here and there to create some type of a conversation, delighting in the consolatory atmosphere.

"Your heart is beating so fast." You softly speak in incredulity, eyes slightly wide at the unanticipated moment.

Mark widens his eyes, a sheepish smile commencing to play on his lips. He starts mumbling and stuttering as he tries to put together meaningful words, though they don’t make any sense to say the least.

“Mine is beating fast too, if that makes you feel better.” You don’t know where the sudden confidence comes from, yet you keep on staring right into his sparkling orbs with your own; the most ravishing smile sitting buoyantly on your lips.

Mark muttres out a few “Oh”s before lazing his visibly tensed body, slowly melting in your arms as you pull his body even closer to your own.

As the sun begins to rise, a song along with a valse melody commences to play out of the speakers Mark had brought. You softly grab the brunette’s hand, taking it into your own; signaling him to dance with a playful smile on your face.

Mark lifts himself upwards as the sheepish smile from earlier commences to display its appearance back on his features. He uses some help from your hand as he lets out a nervous chuckle, youthful hysteria running through his body.

The two of you sway your bodies according to the mellifluous melody rhyming behind. You recline your head on Mark’s chest, getting into a more comfortable position.

"You're beautiful." Mark’s graceful sounding whisper is heard clearly in your right ear after finally gathering up the courage to state a compliment, causing the smile on your lips to grow uncontrollably.

Before leaning in, you go through a whole debate about whether to kiss him or not inside your head. Finally, you lean in; mixing both of your uniquely ambrosial scents as you catch his lips in between your own.

Although the kiss isn’t exactly perfect, the experience is.

“Be my girlfriend?” Mark asks in a whisper as he uses his right hand to keep your chin up, staring right inside your eyes fervently.

“Yeah.” You whisper back with a heavy breath, not able to control the smile growing on your lips.

The newly rising sun accompanies your bodies as you try to move your lips against each other’s in the middle of a beach. Youthful giggles get thrown around as you share your first kiss, a feeling unfamiliarly intriguing enchanting you.

Maybe, maybe you had a future with Mark. Maybe he was someone who would be there for you during your worst nightmares, a shoulder to cry on after calamitous fights, a soul to share your overwhelming ecstasy with.

Though, you don't know that just yet. You never know what the future holds for you. So you completely give your all to him, living through each second of one of the many euphoric moments you share.

Mayhaps this is the beginning of a new journey...

14.03.2017

I lose my mind when you whisper sweet nothings

Gratuitously, Mark guides your body towards his bedroom; hands all over each other’s bodies as giggles out of hysteria escape your lips. You run your hands through his brown locks, plunking them eagerly as your already plumped lips messily move against each other’s.

Mark lets out another breathy giggle as your noses brush, your hands traveling on his body. Your hands find their way towards the hem of his shirt, fingers fiddling with it; contemplating on whether to take it off or not.

Mark gives you a short nod, displaying approval within his actions as he sends you an adorable smile. You glance upwards to steal a glance from his features, only to get lost inside his doe orbs; sparkling in youthful enthusiasm.

He pushes your body onto his bed, trying to be as meticulous as he could. He helps you slide his shirt off as the kiss gets even messier. After unintentionally biting his bottom lip, you mutter out multiple apologies as Mark assures you; running his hands through your hair soothingly.

He pulls your body onto his lap, blushing when he sees your eyes glued onto his upper body. Your eyes meet when you move your head, both shying away at the shared stare. You land him a kiss, on his cheek instead of his lips. Giggles continuously flow through both of your lips as you keep on planting kisses on his cheeks.

Your lips land on his nose on accident when attempting to shower him in sweet cheek kisses, allowing another giggle out of timidity to be shared.

“I love you, like a lot.” Mark whispers admiringly, the adorably sheepish smile never washing away from his lips as the first ever “I love you” effortlessly falls out. You involuntarily smile at the statement, melting into his honeyed words.

“I love you too.” You whisper back, exchanging the specific three words for the first time.

You spend your night blissfully, not precisely knowing what you are doing. Yet you sure are delightful inside Mark’s tight embrace, heart clenching inside your chest at every amiable touch.

23.05.2017

You’re my favorite mistake

“Mark,” You speak out, fidgeting on his bed uncomfortably as your fingers fiddle with the hem of your skirt.

“Yes, baby?” Mark replies; not exactly paying the most attention as his eyes stay still on the laptop seated on his desk, trying to get an essay done.

“Love, are you okay?” He questions when you don’t respond, diverting is doe orbs towards your direction.

“I’m leaving,” You say as your teeth immediately find their way towards your bottom lip, biting and peeling the skin off in apprehension.

“For university, i’m moving.” You continue, explaining yourself when he doesn’t display any type of reaction.

Mark finally lets out a small yet heavy “When” as his lips part, staring at you dispiritedly.

“This sunday.” You reply faintly after a pause.

“And you decide to tell me about it now? Three days before you leave?” Mark’s eyes go wide as his voice raises, visibly accustomed.

“Calm down.” You attempt to calm him down, though it doesn’t exactly work as he shouts even louder each time he parts his lips.

“Do you even care about my feelings?” Mark clamors.

“Mark, what are you saying?” You ask in incredulity, aching to believe you didn’t hear him accurately.

“Look Y/n, I support whatever you do. But not when you tell me right before it happens!” He continues as a scoff out of mockery follows his words.

“I’m sorry i just-” You start rambling, not having an idea on how to ease his emotions.

“A sorry doesn’t fix everything!” He extends, not allowing you to speak.

“I know-”

“Good that you know! I hope you don’t make the same mistake next time with someone else.”

“Someone else? Mark, are you seriously breaking up with me over this?” You ask as a feeling of overwhelming incredulity captures you. His words allow your eyes to widen as your lips part afterwards.

“What’s there to not break up over, Y/n? How do you expect to continue this once you’re away?” He shouts again, making you pause.

“Okay, i wish you the best.” You state with a shaky voice as tears commence to gliss up inside your eyes, causing them to look glossy. You try your best to not blink, holding your tears in.

You can’t cry. No, you can’t cry in front of him.

So you get up and leave.

You are still young.

Not everything lasts, not everything is meant to last.

Each moment is worth living without allowing a knot to form inside your stomach in worry. Experiences have reasons, purposes. So do you, you have a purpose. Cry your heart out after agonizing fights, laugh in delight with all you’ve got; enchanted in an overwhelming euphoria.

You are shaped by awkward encounters, innocently sheepish grins, pernicious altercations, anguished tears. Mistakes you make at eighteen become experiences you thank at thirty.

Sugary moments come to an end, so do the bitter ones. Nothing is permanent, nothing is promised. You can’t live with worry, you can’t live in pain.

Life is short, short enough for you to give each moment a chance. Short enough to feel everything, to live and not just exist.

Somewhere out there, there’s someone for you. Someone willing to cherish all your imperfections, someone willing to shower you in love as immense adoration dances in their sparkling orbs.

Love...love is alluring, fascinating, breathtakingly dazzling. There’s so much to explore within love, so much to explore within a person. New euphoric moments to be shared, new eyes to get lost in, new hearts to beat together.

Love with all you have, give people every ounce of what they deserve without worrying about the ending. Every moment comes to an end. Every kiss has a final share, every breakdown has a final tear.

There is a beginning to each journey, there’s also an ending to those journeys. No time is worth spending cooped up in your room with tears drenching on your features, no time is worth contemplating on whether or not to do something in worry.

Although this is an anguished ending to the previous chapter, it’s a sugary euphoric beginning for another one...

#neowritingsnet #kpopscape #ultkpop #nct-writers #czennet #mark lee scenarios #nct mark lee #mark lee nct #lee mark nct #lee mark scenarios #mark lee fanfic #lee mark fanfic #nct scenarios #nct mark fanfic #nct mark lee fanfic

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buckysgoldenheart · 3 years

Text

Unexpectedly Bitten

Vampire!Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary: Your ex gets into some trouble with Vampires, and his mistakes lead the bloodsuckers back to you. After seeing you, one vampire gets a little attached and he’s taking his time deciding what he plans to do with you, but whatever it is, you’re not afraid. In fact, you might just be a little attached to him too.

Warnings: cursing, smut, violence. (Count on spelling mistakes or repeating words too often. it’s very likely.)

Notes: Let me emphasize this: there is little rhyme or reason to the way this story is broken into parts. I did my best though, and I stuck to 7. I tried not to make each part too long.

This is a Vampire!Henry x Reader story where each chapter, while chronological, is a different conversation or event during the course of their evolving relationship.

Words: 2045

Part 6: Out of Time

You laid facing each other on Henry’s plush mattress you’d somehow made it to as the night went on, while he ran his fingers through your messy, sex-crazed hair. Three times took everything out of you, but you hadn’t slept a wink, afraid of what another day gone by would mean. He said you had to go back, but it would have to be before the five a.m. summer sunrise tomorrow or you would be stuck until night, when the Lord arrived.

You wanted to be stuck with him. Stuck in his bed, in his arms. Stuck to the life you’d been living since he took you. And you hoped everything between you was enough to convince him, to squash his fear, and believe in himself to protect you.

“I don’t want to be without you,” He whispered.

“Then don’t be without me,” You said, tracing over his bottom lip with your thumb, savoring the way those words passed through them moments before. Your bite had already healed, and it made you want to make another.

“Lamb—” You covered his mouth with your hand, fearing what he may say.

After a beat, Henry gently removed that hand and placed a kiss on your palm before pressing it against his heart.

“It’s so strange,” You said.

“What is?”

“Stories say a vampire’s heart is ripped from their chest when they are turned, that the holes are filled with hatred for humans. But yours beats as strong as anyone else’s.” Your fingers on his skin practically vibrated from the intense thumping.

“This heart has been living for hundreds of years, you know.” He smiled. “You’d think it’d be old, worn out, but…I don’t think it could ever get to that point if you’re around.” Then the smile faded as he gripped your hand harder, and said, “I have to take you back today.”

“Henry—”

“No,” He shook his head. “My turn now. You must listen to me, Lamb.” You looked away but he tilted your face back to his. “He comes tomorrow,” He said, emphasizing each word.

The tears threatened to sting sharper than they ever had before, as if you needed a reminder that this loss—the loss of Henry—would be the worst you’d faced yet. You did not need that reminder, and you cursed the tears. “Then bring me back after he’s gone.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?” You practically choked trying to get the sound out.

“Because Elec was suspicious when he saw you. I’ll be watched for some time and if they catch me bringing you back, they’ll know I didn’t drain you and they’ll kill you anyway.”

Your cheeks began to burn from the hot downpour of tears coating them. “Henry…”

He couldn’t wipe the droplets from your skin fast enough, like he knew they were hurting you. “I don’t want this either.”

“How…How long would it be until I could see you again?”

“I don’t know,” He said, kissing you hard to kill your sob.

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

You convinced him to let you stay until night. But it wasn’t so hard after getting him drunk off of the feel of you sweetly nipping at his neck. ‘What’s another few hours,’ He’d said in that raspy, lust-drenched voice, then pulled your body on top of his and kissed you. There was no reason to leave a second before you had to, but you knew it was pushing Henry to the brink. It was a stress on his shoulders that you hated to admit would not be relieved until you were gone.

But as it would turn out, a few hours could make all the difference. A few hours full of selfish choices has the power to make or break your entire world.

Henry was deep inside of you, your breaths mixing as you ground your hips back and forth on top of him. His hold on your hips was beautifully tight, but it turned painful the instant Chris barged through the door to Henry’s room. Fear struck your vampire’s core at the expression on his friend’s face, and he rushed to cover you as you lifted off of him.

“What is it?” Henry asked, sitting up fast; the thick blankets pooling above his hips. You couldn’t see his face, but the agitation in his voice made your lungs collapse.

Chris tossed you a terrified glance, and said to you both, “We are out of time.”

You weren’t so sure Henry hadn’t lied when he said his heart wouldn’t die as long as you were around. You could practically feel it withering. He looked back at you. “Stay here,” he said, shoving the covers off his legs and yanking his boxers on. He threw the rest of his clothes on his body and walked to you, cupping your face in his hands and giving you a quick kiss. “Promise me you won’t move; you won’t make a sound.”

You nodded.

“Say it!”

“I promise.”

He took a deep breath and kissed you once more, then jogged out the door after Chris.

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

Long silver hair draped over the slim shoulders of the self-appointed yet widely accepted vampire Lord. His height landed somewhere between Henry’s and Elec’s, but despite his size, he emanated a power that could crumble the walls of Henry’s home until the roof caved in; a roof that would cave in on the home you were currently in. For more than one reason, Henry knew he had to tread lightly.

The Lord smiled--his fangs a little longer, slightly sharper than most--when Chris returned to the living room with Henry in tow. “You certainly know how to make you master wait,” Elias said in such an even, unthreatening tone it made Henry’s stomach quiver.

“Forgive me. I was expecting you tomorrow.”

A well-manicured eyebrow arched in what appeared to be genuine surprise. “Is that so?”

“A mistake on my part, I’m sure,” Henry said, gesturing toward one of the couches, inviting the Lord to sit as tradition expected.

Elias sat, pleased, and crossed one long leg over the other. His Amber eyes--the color of the burning sun at dusk—scanned the room. “Still not a touch of modernization in this home, is there?”

“No real reason to change much,” Chris said with an attempt at a casual shrug. “We don’t get visitors.”

Elias’s eyes pierced Henry’s like a dagger to the gut. “Oh no?”

“No,” Chris affirmed, but Henry didn’t miss the small smirk stretching across Elec’s pale, thin lips.

Elias’s mouth twitched to the side before settling into a frown. “You see, that’s not what I heard. I heard you’ve had quite a…unique visitor as of late. An extended-stay guest, some might say.”

Neither Chris nor Henry answered, both unable to find the oxygen in the air to do so.

“Where is the human, boys?”

“Gone,” Henry managed to say.

“Gone or dead?”

“What does it matter how I word it?”

“How you word it is everything,” The Lord replied. “After all, Henry, we all know ‘gone’ and ‘dead’ are not the same. So, I’ll ask again.” He clicked his tongue. “Where is the human?”

“Dead, then.”

Elias sighed in sincere disappointment and gave a brief nod to Elec, who disappeared to scour the home.

“She’s not here,” Henry said, trying to restrain his panic.

“Henry…” Elias frowned again, like a disappointed parent at their child’s transparent lie.

Henry didn’t know what to do. He felt useless, weak. If he ran to find you before Elec could, then it would give you away. If he held his breath and prayed you hid well enough for Elec to pass over you, there might be a chance; though slim, it was all Henry could place his hope in. But in the end, what he saw ripped his heart from his chest.

Elec only tsked as he carried you into the room, your body wrapped tight in Henry’s bedsheet. “Didn’t even bother to hide her, Hen? You must not care for her very much. Although, I suppose the look on your face suggests otherwise." You were set on your feet and Elec held firmly to your hand as if he were escorting you. The blank look in your eyes made Henry’s body freeze over. It was the look humans only get if their minds have been blocked by a vampires’ will. Elec looked to Elias. “I told you he loves her.”

“I’ll put her back where I found her.” Henry tried to keep his voice steady as his eyes stayed glued to your glazed over ones. “Please.”

“We all know that’s not how this works.” Elias stood, pulling on the cuffs of his coat until they straightened down to his wrists. “Elec explained everything. You got your one chance to dispose of her, and you failed to take advantage of it. She needs to be made an example of. Now, stay,” He commanded Henry like a dog, keeping his feet from taking another step.

Henry practically doubled over at the sight of Elias’s fingers wrapping around your slender neck, as a silent sob prepared to destroy him from the inside out. Chris moved to Henry and threw his arms around his shoulders while Henry cried ‘Please’ over and over like a man with a broken mind.

“Be thankful, Henry.” Elias said. “Be happy she’ll die while in the trance instead of flailing and sobbing like a small lamb at slaughter time.”

There was no suspense, no drama to the way your neck snapped. It was just a crack, like a lightning strike in an empty field; no other sound around until your body and Henry’s knees hit the floor in sync with thunderous thuds. Your death was not meant to be a long, drawn out torture. It was to make a point; and it certainly had.

Through the cloud of his tears, Henry noticed Elias crouch down in front of him. “I am not an evil man, Henry,” Elias said, cupping Henry’s cheek, but his blue eyes couldn’t be forced from your body, broken on the floor. “I understand how you must be feeling. The majority of us were in love with a human once long ago. But they made us weak, and a weak vampire is a useless vampire. We had grown so accustomed to placing our humans on a pedestal that we were blind to the flip it caused in our power. We’d begun to bow to them, but now we have regained our strength. Over the last few centuries, we’ve come to show them that we are the ones in power again; that their species serves us one purpose. Our laws surrounding humans were put in place for a reason, Henry. That, I know you know. However…” Elias glanced back at your body. “I see you have lost so much here today. So, I will ignore your blatant disrespect for your Lord and the law, as well as for your lack of offerings.” Elias then stood, dusting off and smoothing his already wrinkleless coat. “I visit every quarter-century, and you’ve been so good up until now, Henry. This truly is a disappointment.”

The second the Lord and his loyal pup were out the door, Henry stood and rushed to your side, only to collapse back on his knees again. He touched you delicately as if he might break another of your bones, then framed your face with his hands, cradling it with care.

“Henry…” Chris said, but received no answer. “Henry!”

Henry’s head shot around with a growl when Chris’s touch met his shoulder. “Don’t!”

“If you’re going to do it, do it now, before it’s too late.”

Henry’s face fell to anguish as he looked back at you, and he softly brushed your hair away from your face. He was losing valuable time, and there was a deadline for this sort of thing; one that could not be toyed with.

His kiss landed on your forehead, your cheek, your mouth, then he grabbed your wrist with shaking fingers and brought it to his lips. He kissed the inner side of it for a long beat.

“Forgive me, my love. I did not want this for you,” He whispered against your skin before sinking his piercing fangs into your delicate flesh.

---

tags: @agniavateira @tumblenewby @forthebrokenheartedthings @summersong69 @starlite13 @mstgsmy @purplelove75 @defffcc @the-soot-sprite @kissthatlifeaway @atomicpaperhairdouniversity @aquariuslavenderhoney @harrysthiccthighss @the-problem-of-leisure @jimmypagesandbrianmayshair @readermia @angelofthorr @itmejado @caro-jean @raven-black102 @itty-bitty-dancer @grungeisntmything @wolfiepirate @scuzmonkie @heartfullofl @wanderlustkitkat @maan24 @furievonalexandria @posiemax @sweetybuzz25 @iamthetwickster

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osakaso5 · 3 years

Photo

Iori Izumi RabbiTube Rabbit TV Part 1: Spending Time With Iori

Part 2 | Part 3

Staff: …Now, on to the RabbiTube project.

Staff: Our plan is to introduce the videos by featuring clips on NEXT Re:vale!

Staff: We’d really appreciate it if you could show a side of yourselves that people don’t usually get to see on TV. It’s a pleasure to be working with you!

Momo: We’ve got high hopes for you guys!

Yuki: Feel free to fully expose yourselves to the public.

Mitsuki Izumi: Ahaha, please be gentle with us! Looks like I’m gonna have to do a RabbiTube study marathon..!

Gaku Yaotome: By the way, Tenn, I saw you watching RabbiTube videos the other day. Do you know any good ones?

Tenn Kujo: …I was just watching cat videos.

Gaku Yaotome: Cats, huh. That’s not gonna help us learn anything.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: …I think they might help! You could learn ways to entertain and soothe people…

Gaku Yaotome: Ryu, not all of us are gonna be able to do that…

Yuki: …I’m liking the idea of Kitty Gaku.

Tenn Kujo: …Pfft…

Gaku Yaotome: Tenn, why’re you laughing!?

Riku Nanase: Kitties..! So could it be like a video of Iori going into a cat café?

Iori Izumi: Why do I have to go to a cat café!?

Yamato Nikaido: I’m not too excited about making videos like that, either…

Tamaki Yotsuba: I wanna do a pudding tasting!

Sogo Osaka: …Personally, I’d like to rank my top 100 spices from all around the world…

Nagi Rokuya: And I shall hold a Cocona watch party!

Mitsuki Izumi: You guys aren’t bringing anything new to the table!

Iori Izumi: …Actually, I suppose animal videos do have their appeal, despite how banal they are…

Riku Nanase: Did you say something, Iori?

Iori Izumi: No, nothing.

Momo: Ahaha! Great, you’re already brainstorming ideas!

Momo: You’ve all got the right idea! We wanna see you act natural for your RabbiTubes!

Yuki: Let’s have a fun year doing this.

IDOLiSH7 & TRIGGER: Yessir!

- - - -

Riku Nanase: We’re going to be RabbiTubers for our birthday project this year..!

Sogo Osaka: All the group chats up until now were fun, so it’s kind of a shame that we won’t be doing one this year.

Mitsuki Izumi: …Fair enough. It’ll be awesome to make videos for our fans, but I wish we could have our own celebrations too!

Yamato Nikaido: It’s become kind of a tradition by now.

Nagi Rokuya: …We do not work together as much as we used to. Though I understand that it is difficult to match all our schedules…

Tamaki Yotsuba: Do we not get to eat Mikki’s cakes this year?

Mitsuki Izumi: The cakes are the one thing we’re gonna make for sure! Right, Iori!?

Iori Izumi: Yes. I’ll help, too.

Riku Nanase: Hmm… Celebrations…

Riku Nanase: Ah! Why don’t we all go somewhere together for our birthdays?

Riku Nanase: I guess we probably can’t all go… But we can get our manager to arrange it so at least some of us can hang out!

Mitsuki Izumi: Going out, huh… That does sound like a nice change of pace from all the group RabbitChats!

Yamato Nikaido: It’s a shame that we won’t all be able to go, but getting to choose a spot does make it feel more special. …You should take me to a beer brewery, by the way.

Mitsuki Izumi: Sounds like you’ve already got one in mind!

Tamaki Yotsuba: Let’s take lots of pics and videos for the guys who can’t go. We can send them over RabbitChat.

Nagi Rokuya: OH! A wonderful idea. It will make us all feel as if we are there.

Iori Izumi: I’m sure uploading them to Rabitter would make many people happy, as well.

Sogo Osaka: That sounds fun..! Let’s ask our manager about it tomorrow.

Riku Nanase: Yep! …Looks like we’re going to have pretty fun birthdays again!

- - - -

Mitsuki & Riku: Strawberry picking!

Iori Izumi: ........

Iori Izumi: ...Er, Nii-san, Nanase-san.

Mitsuki Izumi: What's up, Iori? Want some condensed milk?

Riku Nanase: You'll need to eat quickly, since we've only got 30 minutes here!

Iori Izumi: No, I...

Iori Izumi: I just wanted to know why we're here to pick strawberries in the first place.

Riku Nanase: Do you not like it here..?

Iori Izumi: That's not what I'm trying to say.

Mitsuki Izumi: Remember that conversation we had about doing smaller group outings for all our birthdays?

Mitsuki Izumi: It just so happened that the two of us were free today, so we decided we'd take you strawberry picking!

Mitsuki Izumi: Isn't that right, Manager?

Tsumugi Takanashi: That's right! It would've been too difficult to free everyone's schedules for the day...

Tsumugi Takanashi: And we were lucky to find a strawberry farm not too far from the city!

Riku Nanase: It's January, right? And what rhymes with January? Strawberry!

Iori Izumi: THAT's why you brought me here!? You can't be serious!

Mitsuki Izumi: Ahaha! Well, he's not wrong about the rhyming part!

Iori Izumi: ...I feel like I would've been better off not knowing all this...

Iori Izumi: But, since we're already here, I suppose I'll make the most of it.

Riku Nanase: Great! Time to stuff ourselves full of delicious strawberries!

Tsumugi Takanashi: I'll be over here, taking pictures of you!

Mitsuki Izumi: Thanks a bunch!

Riku Nanase: Let's get picking!

- - - -

Iori Izumi: ...Nanase-san. Are you sure you'll be able to eat all of that?

Riku Nanase: Of course I can! I'm a man!

Mitsuki Izumi: Iori, they said we could take our harvest home. Wanna grab a little extra for Mom and Dad?

Iori Izumi: Yes. I'm sure Mom would like that.

Iori Izumi: And... we should get some for the rest of IDOLiSH7, as well.

Mitsuki Izumi: Oh, right!

Riku Nanase: Tamaki was so jealous he couldn't come. He made sure to tell us that we HAD to bring him souvenirs!

Iori Izumi: I don't see what there is to be jealous about, but we should probably grant his request.

Mitsuki Izumi: ...Look, guys! Don't you think this strawberry's shaped kinda like Kinako!?

Riku Nanase: Wow, it is! This part looks like her ears!

Iori Izumi: To think that we'd find such a unique strawberry here...

Mitsuki Izumi: You can't find anything like this one at the store, that's for sure. ...I almost don't even want to eat it!

Tsumugi Takanashi: We should take it back home! I'll take some pictures of it, for good measure!

Iori Izumi: Right. Our president definitely needs to see this one.

Riku Nanase: ...Okay, so whoever finds the strawberry with the funniest shape wins!

Iori Izumi: Huh!? Since when was this a competition..!?

Mitsuki Izumi: That does sound like a ton of fun, though! And the Kinako one doesn't count!

Riku Nanase: Heh heh heh. I'm going to win, just you see!

Iori Izumi: ...Good grief... I won't take this lightly, either. It is my birthday, after all.

Riku Nanase: Well said, Iori! Okay, ready... get set... go!

- - - -

Riku Nanase: Time to show our results!

Mitsuki & Riku: Yaaay!

Tsumugi Takanashi: Well then, Mitsuki-san. Let's see yours first!

Mitsuki Izumi: Sure thing! Take a look at... this! A star-shaped strawberry!

Riku Nanase: Wow, it's almost like a live starfish!

Iori Izumi: It's... very impressive. You can clearly make out the star shape.

Mitsuki Izumi: Heh. I know, right? It stood out among the rest so much, you'd think it was actually shining.

Iori Izumi: That sounds like something Rokuya-san might say in reference to his anime blind boxes.

Tsumugi Takanashi: We might already have our winner..! Riku-san, you're next!

Riku Nanase: Okay! Mine is, um... Ta-dah! It's shaped like the number one!

Mitsuki Izumi: The number one?

Riku Nanase: Yeah! Since January is the first month, and Iori's name has the symbol for 'one', too...

Iori Izumi: I-I suppose I see a resemblance...

Riku Nanase: Right!?

Mitsuki Izumi: Uh, well, I guess a really long strawberry's still pretty interesting!

Riku Nanase: Why does it feel like you're both only saying that to make me feel better!?

Tsumugi Takanashi: I think it looks adorable..! Iori-san, you're the last contestant left!

Iori Izumi: Right.

Iori Izumi: Mine is shaped like King Pudding.

Riku Nanase: Whaaat!?

Mitsuki Izumi: Holy crap, the stem even looks like his crown!

Riku Nanase: You're right! And these are his arms and legs...

Mitsuki Izumi: How do you even have a talent for this sort of thing, Iori?

Iori Izumi: It is my birthday, you know.

Riku Nanase: What does that have to do with anything!?

Mitsuki Izumi: Well, Manager..!? Who won!?

Tsumugi Takanashi: ...I have no choice but to declare all three of you as winners!

Riku, Iori, & Mitsuki: Oooh..!

Riku Nanase: ...Ahaha. Looks like we didn't get to eat any strawberries, after all!

Iori Izumi: We can take some back to the dorm and eat them with the others.

Mitsuki Izumi: Iori, did you have fun today?

Iori Izumi: ...Of course. Thank you for bringing me here.

Iori Izumi: We should come here again. All of us.

Riku Nanase: Yep! Totally!

Tsumugi Takanashi: Let me take one more picture of you all with your findings!

Tsumugi Takanashi: Say cheese..!

End of Part 1.

#idolish7 #iori izumi #rabbitube #translation #i7 #rabbit tv

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fangirlyah · 4 years

Text

✦kind queen of narnia - Edmund Pevensie x Reader

summary: a new prophecy for the narnia’s kingdom. a new member joining the kings and queens. but...who is it?

warnings: cursing

word count: 3,597

a/n: mi first edmund one shot, i’m so happy!

according to the books the ages of the characters should be different, but in this one-shot their ages will be those agreed by wikipedia reasoning with the actors’ age in the year of recording of the second film (it is an approximation):

Peter - 20

Susan - 17

Edmund - 15/16

Lucy - 12

Prince Caspian - 26

narnia, what a place.

anyone from england would look at y/n and the pevensie brothers in horror if they were told about this beautiful world full of fairytale creatures and landscapes.

they would probably be frightened if they were told that all narnians were preparing to face the telmarines; it would be their second battle in defence of their beloved lands.

they would also worry if they were told that there were prophecies dictating the fate of the teenagers.

the pevensies had been in narnia for a long time. they had grown up and reached adulthood there while time in england had barely passed. their first visit to the dream place had been when edmund was just ten years old and as the prophecy dictated he had betrayed his brother and sisters and then recomposed himself to follow the right path as a faithful ruler of narnia and become king edmund, the just.

when edmund was twenty years old in the narnian world, a gryphon passed over him and dropped a neatly rolled papyrus.

when his time on this earth comes to an end

a damsel with the purity of water and the sweetness of honey will get her start

if you listen well, attachment will flourish

if you listen badly, there will be pain

she is made to avoid pain in all

she is made to bring back peace

that doesn't even rhyme, he thought, and it doesn't make sense either.

even though the prophecy that had just arrived at his whereabouts was revealed to his brother and sisters, none of them understood, what girl was it talking about?

everything took on colour, when a thin figure collapsed against lucy at the train station.

"oh no! i'm so sorry, sweetheart" a girl of about sixteen years of age, apologized sincerely to the little girl who had been moved abruptly by the teenage girl's body. "i thought i was missing my train and i got terribly scared" the y/h/c outlined a sweet smile.

"there is no reason to apologise, we all make mistakes...my name is lucy and these are my brothers and my sister" the little girl stretched out her hand to shake it with y/n’s, while the other pointed behind her to three teenagers in uniform.

a pretty girl with striking eyes introduced herself as susan, while another slim blond boy said his name was peter. the third was immersed in his search for the train's arrival time, so he did not notice the conversation in front of him, the signs on the station walls seemed to be more interesting. "he is edmund...sorry he is half a fool" as he heard his name, the raven-haired boy looked up to meet a beautiful and delicate girl laughing at the comment his sister had made.

"my name is y/n, it is a pleasure to meet you" her gaze travelled through each member of the family leaving them with a smile; when it was edmund's turn her smile did not come down even though the one he showed her was hasty and if she had not been paying attention she would have missed it.

"where were you about to leave in such a hurry?" peter asked as the five of them move away due to some guards passing at full speed by their side, being all cornered against the wall the best decision they made was to take a seat, side by side, on a bench.

"my parents live in the countryside of england, and because of my school I haven't seen them for a long time so I didn't want to miss my train" y/n explained feeling the look of all the them.

"we were on our way there too! we must visit professor kirke, we haven't seen him for a long time"

that was their first meeting, the first meeting of many. y/n and the pevensies developed the closest and most faithful friendship in the world. they spent all their holidays enjoying the countryside together and when school resumed, they took several trains and walked several blocks just to see each other almost every week.

and although their meetings were frequent edmund did not always seem pleased by her presence. the months passed and although y/n began to develop a crush on the freckle boy he seemed to ignore her every move. even when she bought his favourite sweets to share with everyone or when she would sneak a compliment on his attire on some special occasion. y/n was good at hiding her feelings so only susan knew and she hoped it would stay that way.

it was not until the five of them were waiting for their train to leave for their respective boarding school that the action began.

the train they were to board disappeared and with it the whole station around them, leaving lucy, peter, edmund, susan and y/n standing on a paradise beach.

the brothers began to walk towards the white sand, leaving the cave where they had landed, followed by a shocked y/n

"where are we?” when lucy heard y/n's voice she looked at her sister with a smile and then started to run, getting rid of their school uniforms.

"come on, y/n!" peter shouted as he dipped his feet into the clear water.

she did not resist and followed her friends, leaving a few clothes to play in the water.

edmund saw her laughing, with her wet hair, in the sun and remembered how in love he was with the girl he ignored so much.

"what is it?" asked peter as he saw his brother stop having fun; edmund couldn't admit that the sight of y/n had knocked him out so he had to improvise.

"where do you suppose that we are?

"it's pretty obvious, isn't it? we are in narnia” by this time, the girls had stopped their water fight and were paying attention to the boys.

"well...i don't remember any ruins in narnia”

"narnia?! you must be joking?!" y/n exclaimed.

"yes, narnia" peter said, looking at her as if nothing was happening.

"but...narnia...the narnia you told me as a story from when you were children?"

"they are not stories..."

with that, the brothers began to tour the meadows where, 1300 years ago, cair paravel was located. where now only ruins remained of what had been their home.

the surprise of y/n was not erased and even less so when they found the prophecy that dictated their destiny.

"edmund! this was the prophecy that appeared to you” susan was right but edmund did not want y/n to know that for some magical reason the prophecy had come to HIS hands.

"what? a prophecy about me?" y/n posed her body next to peter who had the paper in his hands.

"no one enters narnia without a purpose" the little pevensie sister explained.

"there is no way i can be this girl! i have no talent, i am not so-"

peter interrupted her by placing his hands on the girl's thin shoulders.

"you may think so, but narnia and its magic is more powerful than ourselves and our supposed abilities"

edmund had to swallow hard not to go and take the girl from his brother's arms. he had no right to take her away. edmund did not know how to approach her so their contact was minimal, to the misfortune of both of them.

those days continued peacefully and then chaos erupted throughout the kingdom.

aslan disappeared and newcomer caspian caused maximum tension.

although the pevensie, caspian, and trumpkin had taken it upon themselves to make her aware of what was going on around her, she was still afraid. she had many people trusting her actions and that they would return the peace.

she had always been a leader and narnia was no exception. y/n was equal to peter and caspian in decision making as she was cunning and quick in making decisions but when it came to attacking came her weakness. there was no feeling inside her body that would leave her conscience clear if she killed or injured any human or creature.

although edmund kept his countenance neutral when it came to her, his heart melted whenever she mentioned her lack of courage to hold a weapon and go on the attack.

"y/n, you coming?" caspian turned on his axis before leaving for the battle on the castle of miraz.

"i can help with maps, plans and strategies but with this...i can't, sorry”

edmund had heard several creatures criticize the girl's lack of courage to confront a hand-to-hand fight; and he could not help but think that he maybe was disappointed by her attitude too.

"why is she here if she can't even pick up a weapon, of any kind, without shaking?" the freckled boy would adjust his armor before going into battle.

"don't be mean, edmund. she is too good to go out and kill someone" his older sister tried to talk some sense into him, especially because before edmund entered the room where susan was, y/n had retired just a few seconds before but susan knew that she was not far enough not to hear their conversation; and hear the boy who she liked talk so badly about her would not be a nice moment.

"or she's too much of a coward" was a fact, y/n was listening to the whole conversation, as she felt her heart breaking.

"if she bothers you so much that she doesn't fight, show her. you are the best at using the sword in combat in all of narnia"

"I won't" at the end of the day he wasn't so brave after all.

now it was y/n who ignored him. whether in meetings or in their free time, she did not even give him a glance and he noticed. because edmund was very attentive to what she was doing or not doing, so it was not difficult for him to see her practicing with prince caspian her fighting, on the beach, more than one afternoon while he went for his walks.

it hurt him but he knew that her distancing was his fault.

caspian did not question the reason for the girl's drastic change, he only offered to help her and she accepted.

they spent hours covered in sweat and sand but she did not seem to mind, she wanted to prove a point to edmund and herself. her days were divided into training, alone or with others, and creating plans and strategies. her rest was almost non-existent and her tired figure was beginning to show. her breakfasts were short and quick like any other meal of the day. she ate with her head down and conversed with anyone but edmund.

one cool night edmund tried to sleep in his large room but the sound of a sword moving and colliding with a shield prevented him from doing so. from the high window it was impossible for him to decipher where it came from but he assumed that it meant no danger as none of the guards seemed alert; but he still descended in search of the owner of the sound.

when he entered the courtyard below his room he saw her. covered in sweat and with her sword in her hand as she moved abruptly against an armament tied to a tree. edmund found y/n’s invention very ingenious and was even more surprised to see her move almost perfectly, it seemed almost natural to her.

"what are you doing here at this hour?" after minutes of watching her from a few meters away, the younger pevensie brother approached.

"I could ask you the same thing" y/n did not even move her eyes, she just approached the tree to accommodate the armor tied with leather.

"I was trying to sleep but an unbearable noise woke me up, Ijust wanted to know who was causing it...now I know"

“I didn't know it was so annoying" edmund still couldn't see her face.'' I'll stop now..."

gently, despite being preparing to go out and kill men and creatures, she put her sword in its compartment hanging from her hip, and then dried her face with a wet piece of cloth.

"why are you doing this anyway?"

"some people don't believe me strong enough to fulfill the prophecy...they think I'm a coward" y/n looked into his eyes for the first time and edmund understood what she meant.

"you should stop. you look exhausted, besides I didn't-"

"keep it to yourself..." already when she had passed the freckle boy's body petrified in the garden, y/n continue "and it seems that it is never enough, so yes. if I need to keep practicing"

edmund knew that she was absolutely right. before she started her daily combat lessons, she gave everything she had from what she could. she had taken risks and was adapting to being the future queen of a place, which until a while ago, was completely unknown for her.

y/n would not admit it but that night she cried like never before. she did not know exactly if it was tiredness, confusion, sadness or that she was heartbroken. but whatever the right choice was, that night she fainted in a tearful dream without managing to take off her sweaty clothes.

the next morning she appeared at breakfast as if nothing had happened. clean and unpolluted in a freshly washed and ironed dress that accentuated every attribute she had. lucy had heard her crying and was dying to ask what was so terrifying that made her cry like that, but seeing her serious countenance when y/n saw her brother sitting at the table, despite her young age, lucy easily put it together.

after preventing jadis, the white witch, return to narnia. caspian and his allies had no choice but to confront the troops of miraz in front of the altozano. meanwhile, lucy and susan were leaving in search of aslan. y/n did not go with them. she remained at the site of the battle.

when everyone was out ready to fight, so was she. edmund had seen her keep medical supplies anywhere in the armour she found space with the intention of helping any wounded being she might encounter. he felt extremely guilty; she did not want to be there and should not have been. she could have quietly stayed in the shelter ready to help anyone who came looking for a hand but he had pressed her with words he did not even feel.

to gain time the camp became a personal battle between peter and miraz. both begin to fight to the death. both armies gathered around the stone platform where the two men were fighting hand to hand. edmund looked at y/n who was standing next to a centaur with her perfectly placed weaponry; her serious countenance hid any doubt or fear that her brain was processing.

although the elder pevensie managed to have a dying miraz in front of him, peter did not kill him.

"you are too much of a coward to take a life, king peter?" miraz, despite being on his knees almost dead, kept on fighting.

"it's not mine to take"

with that said, the blond man stepped back to give the sword to y/n; who looked at them perplexed. she understood that she must do so to fulfill the prophecy. she had all eyes on her and her trembling hands that took the sword and stood before the wounded man.

edmund saw tears welling up in her beautiful eyes as she looked down at miraz. y/n placed the tip of the sword on the man's neck with her chest rising and falling violently.

the freckled boy wanted to run towards her to hug and kiss all her nerves and fears away but he couldn't.

as the seconds passed and the girl did not move from her place, a laugh was heard in the telmarine’s army and that was the limit.

edmund gently approached the girl and placed his hands on top of the sword taking it out of her hands

"let go, it's okay" he whispered as, with the help of his hands, he pushed her back to where she was before.

by that point the tears had already come out of her eyes and at that moment she felt like a real coward. she felt the disappointed looks despite her head being down and the tall stature of edmund in front of her limiting her view.

"stupid girl, this is not the girl of the prophecy! she is just an idio-"

when edmund wanted to turn around and finish the work that peter had started, an arrow pierced miraz’s chest and chaos began.

despite her blurred vision, y/n remained on the battlefield. she had escaped from edmund's side when the war cries were first heard.

although she did not use her sword she was fast enough to escape the attacks and manage to help those wounded in the meadows.

the two armies were facing each other in battle and when the narnians were about to lose, lucy found aslan. the lion awakened the narnian trees, allowing them to come to the aid of the narnian army.

amidst the screams and sounds of colliding swords, aslan called out to the water god, who drowns much of the telmarine army.

and the war is over.

in the midst of the destruction, everyone begins to celebrate with smiles on their faces despite the large number of narnians lost in battle, there was cause for celebration.

the pevensies had met aslan and on the seashore, they were enjoying a good chat.

"where is y/n y/l?" asked aslan curiously "she fulfilled the prophecy perfectly"

"but she was not who killed miraz, it was caspian who had to see the kingdom free" trumpkin seemed upset and the desire to kick his little figure flourished in edmund.

"you don't need to kill someone to restore peace and help your people"

with that said, edmund began to look for her with his eyes...and found her. sitting on a stone, passing a natural ointment on a faun’s arm.

at that moment the boy understood that y/n should not learn to fight and use weapons to save narnia. with her kindness, intelligence and healing skills it was more than enough. he wanted to tell her. he wanted to tell her what an idiot he had been in wanting to force her to do something she was not even meant to do.

without saying a word edmund ran off in her direction.

when y/n saw him quickly approaching her, she stood up from her place and watched him as he arrived and took her arm to walk into the forest.

"I know what you are going to say and I am sorry..." as soon as the boy slowed down his pace the two faced each other in the middle of the forest lighted by rays of sunshine piercing the tree leaves. they were less than a metre away and yet edmund wanted to be even closer "I know you are disappointed in me, I know you all are... but i could not, ok?! I just could not! I cannot be queen of narnia with this attitude, I did not make it. I did not fulfill the prophecy and now-"

edmund took his face with both hands and brought it close to him, silencing her hasty and nervous speech; in less than a second both were immersed in a deep kiss that y/n took a few seconds to reciprocate due to her surprise. her hands travelled to his chest covered by the narnian battle uniform as his hands caress her cheeks softly.

the kiss was quick but sweet, as if they were frustrated romantics who had not been able to kiss each other for centuries.

when the kiss broke both chests went up and down as if they had finished running a marathon, but despite this they could not let go. now edmund's arms were wrapped around her and her arms caressed his neck as they looked at each other.

"you saved narnia without the need to kill anyone, you earned narnia without using force if not kindness"

"you're not disappointed?" a slight surprise occupied the boy’s body.

"all your training and you coming out to fight today, was because of me?"

"I just...just wanted to be enough for you" y/n was sincere, there was no need to lie.

"the conversation you heard between susan and me was a mistake, I would never be disappointed in you and you are far, far away from being a coward and you proved that from the minute you set foot in this kingdom"

she rested her forehead on his as a response.

"I am so in love with you" he sighed realizing the chill that ran through the girl's body.

"today is your lucky day king edmund, because i am more in love with you" a small laugh broke out from both of them.

"impossible"

with that said, they both joined in another kiss. this time a slow one. they had all the time in the world.

after all they were king and queen of narnia, no one could rush them.

#edmund pevensie #edmund pevensie x reader #edmund pevensie fanfic #one shots #imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #edmund pevensie x y/n #narnia #the cronicles of narnia #prince caspian #fantasy #queen #kings #narnia fanfiction

221 notes · View notes

queerbrujas · 3 years

Note

11 from the kiss meme for Nat! :)

Look at me filling prompts two months late :) I went a little bit off-prompt with this one but it still kind of counts!

the closest to heaven (that i’ll ever be)

pairing: nat sewell x eva navarro wordcount: 1.8k rating: G

read on ao3

Morning kisses that are exchanged before either person opens their eyes, kissing blindly until their lips meet in a blissful encounter.

—

Nat Sewell doesn’t need any more sleep than other vampires.

She could easily sleep as little as Ava or Felix do, barely more than Mason: a few hours every few days, and it would be enough rest for her body. No, there is no practical reason for her to sleep more than the others in Unit Bravo—but she does anyway, out of habit and enjoyment, like the human food she eats or the whiskey she sometimes drinks. The music she listens to.

It’s a ritual. A reminder. Something pleasant and, for the most part, uncomplicated.

(Ava doesn't understand why she does it without need, but Ava, dear friend that she is, feels that way about many things.)

Sleep is, as most things about immortality, different; she would still call it different, even after three hundred years and only vaguely remembering what it is different from.

No, she doesn't think about that. It's just different.

Dreams, for one, are more vivid—but so are nightmares—and the rest it gives is enhanced.

The moment of waking is different, too.

She likes to savor it, those first few instants after sleep, when her senses are still coated in a veil of dreams and only just beginning to reacquaint themselves with the world around her. Still coming out of a pleasant haze until they settle into complete awareness.

So she keeps her eyes closed, letting each of her senses wake in its own time, feeling and slowly widening her perception of her surroundings until she is fully awake.

Especially now, with those senses all drawn to focus on one person only, she would allow that moment to last for as long as possible.

Eva shifted during the night. It’s something she does regularly, Nat has realized by now—but no matter how much she does, she never moves away from her. Never stops touching her. Their legs are tangled together, with Nat laying on her side; her hand lays flat on Eva’s stomach and she can feel the softness and warmth of her skin under her palm, every point of contact between them something precious.

The pleasant heat that radiates off of her body is first on Nat’s mind, as it warms the space around them and lands on her skin, even more welcome than the morning sunlight.

Nat’s chin rests on Eva's shoulder, and the next thing she can feel is her hair, loose and spread over the pillow, strands of it brushing against Nat’s cheek and filling the air with that mix of scents that has become so familiar and known and cherished.

There are the very, very last remnants of the perfume Eva wore last night (faint amber and sandalwood are all that is left, but they are enough to bring the hints of mandarin and jasmine to Nat's memory), the shampoo she uses (a new one, nettle and lemon verbena) — and underneath it all Eva's own scent, something fresh and clean and something else still, something nameless, powerful and intoxicating that makes Nat almost dizzy.

She moves closer almost instinctively, smiling against Eva’s shoulder when the rhythm of her heartbeat starts to pick up. She knows, by now, the exact pattern and acceleration, the change in pace that tells her when she is waking. It starts only a few moments before her breathing becomes shallower.

Nat’s fingers trace shapes on Eva’s skin as she lets her focus settle on the soft sounds, on the shift of the air around them.

It's so easy. It's been so easy, with her.

So easy to speak of herself, to give herself so fully and so irrevocably. To grow used to waking with her like this. It has all fallen into place so quickly Nat could almost, almost be wary of it, and yet all she can feel is the way it warms even the oldest corners of her heart and fills her with a kind of happiness she can't remember feeling in as long as she's been alive.

Eva makes a noise then, a barely audible hum, and Nat’s thoughts are drawn back to her as her heart skips a beat of its own. It makes her smile—as much as she enjoys sensing the reactions she can cause in Eva, the inverse thrills her just the same.

She keeps her eyes closed still, enveloped by the hold Eva has over her senses, wanting to cling to it just a little longer, that sleepy daze that precedes the stark clarity of day.

Eva shifts, turns and burrows her face against Nat’s neck, making more soft, sleepy sounds. Another hum, and Nat feels the vibration against her skin. She wraps an arm around Eva and pulls her closer, their bodies flush against each other, and Eva lets out a contented sigh.

“Nat…” Eva's voice is muffled and sleep-heavy and yet it makes Nat’s heart give a leap. Nat answers with a soft hum of her own.

Eva doesn’t speak again, instead shifting for a kiss to Nat’s shoulder; the touch on her skin feels vaguely electric, lightly charged. Another kiss, more humming, and Nat smiles even wider, happiness settling in her chest.

Nat shifts as well, tempted by the kisses, by the softness of Eva’s lips, featherlight touches brushing against her skin. Eyes still closed, the fluttering sensation almost overtakes her, as Eva presses them without rhyme or reason over her shoulders, her collarbone, her neck, her jaw.

Nat lets out a soft laugh when Eva nuzzles against her neck again and whispers “you’re warm”, her voice clinging to sleep as much as Nat herself is. Her senses are almost fully awake now, though, starting to become aware of the smaller things like the slight changes in the air and the sounds of the forest outside, someone’s footsteps off in the distance. But it all fades into the background, white noise, because she can tell Eva is more alert now, too—heart rate and breathing are almost back to normal—and that’s the only thing she can focus on.

“Good morning, jaan,” Nat says, that feeling of happiness bubbling within her and spilling into her voice, tentatively moving until she can press her lips to Eva’s temple, fingers playing with the strands of her hair.

“Morning,” comes the mumbled answer. She’s stubbornly clinging to it more than necessary, Nat knows; she’s almost fully awake by this point.

Nat opens her eyes then, and even after all this time, the sheer strength of her reaction to Eva still takes her by surprise. The lines of her face, beauty marks dotted on her skin. The way long lashes frame light brown eyes that are only just opening.

And her eyes are a wonder all on their own. Usually constantly moving, evaluating, with thoughts swirling behind them at a speed it takes a moment to keep up with, or with a hard focus on finding the best outcome for a mission.

And yet the way she looks at her now is enough to make Nat’s heart almost stop.

Eva, her Eva who almost never stays still, who is so at ease with the breakneck speed this modern world has taken, and yet—and yet she chooses, has chosen to slow down for her without even the slightest hesitation and seems as thrilled by it as Nat herself is.

Nat can see the whirlwind behind her eyes stilling every time they lock eyes, as it does now, a gentle focus that reflects every depth and every feeling Nat has inside herself. Eva smiles, beautiful, blissful, full of softness and feeling she has admitted time and again to being unused to and Nat’s breath catches at it, her own heart racing even faster—she feels nothing short of honored that she would be the one to inspire that so freely in her.

She waits a second for the catch in her breathing to subside, a smile spreading on her lips.

“Have I told you that you are the most beautiful sight to wake up to?” she says, raising her hand to brush her fingers against Eva’s cheek. She doesn’t try to keep the emotion from her voice.

Eva’s eyes sparkle at the comment and she laughs, but the slightest hint of heat radiates from her cheeks all the same, something she doesn’t hide or shy away from; Nat loves her for it, loves the eager honesty in her smile and how she revels in the shivers Nat causes in her. Her sleepy smile grows wider and more alert and she leans forward again, kisses Nat's cheek and the touch of her lips is so soft, so gentle Nat’s eyes almost close again at it.

“Then maybe I should stay here every night,” Eva says, with a smile in her voice, too. “And, for the record,” she adds after another kiss, “yes, you have.”

“You will hear no argument from me,” Nat answers with a light chuckle. “I'd have you with me always.”

They have been spending almost every night together, at the Warehouse or in Eva's apartment, and the nights they don’t are longer and emptier than Nat could ever have imagined they would be.

I'd have you stay forever. She almost says it—and it is so unlike her to keep these thoughts unvoiced, but this one, this one she would hold on to for just a little longer.

Eva draws back, only a little, and her light brown eyes meet Nat’s again. She is silent for a moment before speaking again. “You know I have nowhere else I’d rather be.”

It’s almost a whisper and, despite the smile that still sits on her lips, more serious than she probably intended it to sound.

There are depths to those words, Nat knows. There is an unspoken conversation and an idea and a thought that hangs between them still—but there is also the undiluted truth of it, truth that is both freeing and overwhelming, exhilarating and comforting.

Nat lets herself be taken by the feeling of it until the force that pulls her to Eva is so strong she has to do something about it, and without words (because there are no words that would be enough, in any language she knows) she does the only thing she can. She leans in to kiss her again and Eva melts into it eagerly, grasping at her and pulling her closer, the sweet softness of her mouth the only thing Nat cares to know.

They part with a breath and a smile and Eva keeps her eyes closed for a few seconds, lashes brushing against her cheeks. Nat wants to count them. She has never seen anything or anyone so beautiful.

After a moment, Eva lets out a sigh, shutting her eyes more tightly with a frown.

“There’s a meeting,” she says, making Nat blink in confusion for a second. She can hear, can feel the regret in her voice, sounding much more awake now than a few minutes ago. “We should—what time is it?”

Nat laughs.

“Yes, I believe we should start getting ready for the day.”

#the wayhaven chronicles #nat sewell #qbwrites #oc: eva #qbwritestwc

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gogo-karasuno · 4 years

Note

I WILL REGRET EMBARRASSING MYSELF (But this anon so whateve) Your polyship Bokuto/Kuro/Reader was AMAZING. Any chance you could do one for Tendo with Ushijima and a reader? Please and thank you 🥺🥺🥺❤️❤️❤️

I had two very similar requests so I’m just lumping them together for this answer! Writing Satori can actually be really fun.

--SFW

- Both of you love Wakatoshi but there are times you kind of want to smother him in his sleep. The biggest has to be that he has never enjoyed a proper lazy morning in his life. No matter how much you and Satori complain things will not change. The latest you kept him in bed was 7:30am. Most times he’ll be up by 6am. He tries not to make noise but that is a lot of man trying to maneuver stealthily around a bedroom.

- Your place ends up with an impressive assortment of plants. It could be a full blown garden or just some window boxes with a lot of plants around the house. Wakatoshi leans toward the simpler plants with a bonsai tree being his most difficult. He also has some bamboo and possibly a money plant. Think of him as a simple man with simple pursuits. Satori has no rhyme nor reason to what he has around. Imagine some wild looking succulents, a cactus or two, and maybe a Venus Fly Trap. Feel free to sprinkle your tastes in because your house is just The Crazy Plant People now.

- Movie Dates are really fun even if a little difficult at times. Satori will watch any movie with a cute actress. The genre, quality, and age means absolutely nothing to him. Is the actress cute? Then he is ready to watch this. A couple of really twisted horror movies kept you all up because of this. Wakatoshi doesn’t really have a strong preference one way or another. Mindscrewy movies, of any genre, are something he will avoid on his own. Please feel free to veto movies because someone needs to rein in your clown.

- Things are never quiet when Satori is home. Years of friendship with Wakatoshi lead to him filling the mostly silences with one-sided conversations. This is a habit that never goes away. In fact, the best way to figure out who is home is by the noise. If Wakatoshi isn’t peacefully existing in the room with you, you can forget he is around. Satori eliminates that problem. Watching them chat is really precious though. You can see how much they love each other’s company even if they seem like opposites.

- Chances are that Satori has you beat in height. Wakatoshi has you both beat in height and general size because he is strong and well-muscled to prove it. What this means is you both can treat his sweaters, jackets, and hoodies as fair game. They are the ultimate comfort items that let the two of you drown in the extra fabric. A selfie of you and Satori in stolen sweaters is Wakatoshi’s home screen for his cell. Seeing the two of you smiling makes him happy.

--NSFW

- Sex with these two is something that happens with the three or you or pairs. Chances are you are the balance between “Vanilla” Wakatoshi and “Kink Compendium” Satori. The kinkiest things are something that typically involves only you and Satori. Hardcore Scenes, or most scenes really, fail to appeal to Wakatoshi beyond “Those are my Lovers.” Lighter kinks are something that Wakatoshi can be brought around to join. The biggest thing is for you and Satori to test them out a few beforehand. Things move much smoother when you have a flowing system of introduction for Wakatoshi.

- Wakatoshi is quiet in the bedroom while Satori continues to never shut up. The way you know they are really into something or are feeling really, really good is when they swap habits. Wakatoshis goes from grunts and groans to uttering swears and your names like a litany. Satori going word silent with nothing but gasps and moans is a sight to behold.

- A memorable (mostly) unplanned fun time came when you and Satori ganged up on your boyfriend. Wakatoshi was half absorbed in a boring documentary or something. In doing so he was “ignoring” the two of you. The agreed upon plan was to take up a seat on either side of him. As time passed you both inched and inched close enough to meld into his sides. That turned into the two of you making out in front of him before leaning up to include him. By the end, you and Satori were riding his thighs while leaving marks all over each other.

- Three people seem like they could be limiting in terms of sexual positions. But, an open mind and some creativity can really bring out a whole new world. Out of your triad, everyone has penetrated each other at one time or another. Many times these would happen at the same time. Yes, that means you have had Satori nearly choking on Wakatoshi’s cock while you rolled your hips into his. A different time had Satori helping absolutely ruin Wakatoshi.

- The funniest reaction you have ever gotten from Wakatoshi was The Maid Costume Experience. It started with Satori wanting to see you roleplay as a maid complete with the French Maid costume and no underwear. Wakatoshi coming home to see something of this caliber was nothing new. At most, you addressing him as Master was different. The second time he caught the two of you with a repeat of this scene had Satori in the costume. Seeing the redhead in fishnet stockings did Something for him but that was it. The Experience was when he came home to the two of you brandishing a maid costume at him. Imagine an actual Shocked Expression across his face that a stranger could read. A little encouragement had him participating with very mixed results. He tried. He really, really tried but roleplaying is not something he is good at. For a one off idea, it was fun but not really worth replicating at a later date.

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pikablu410 · 4 years

Text

Mix Tapes

Monday

“Yo! Robert, wassup my guy!” A boy shouted as he walked up to the high school building.

Robert turned around and saw his friend walking up, greeting him with a, “What’s good Darius?”

The two slapped hands, shook and went back to talking to their friend circle for a bit before classes started. The group of guys typically talked about their school’s sports teams, as most of them were on at least one of the teams. They also talked about how much they disliked their school since all their teachers gave them tons of work, in addition to their other responsibilities as young adults. Today, however, the conversation took an unexpected turn.

“Did you guys hear about how Jakob blimped up last week?” One of their friends brought up.

“Yeah! He looks like a whale now!” Someone else joked.

“It’s a shame. Coach said he was a good quarterback, but now he’s too big for the team.” Another commented.

While the group was never one for drama, this was news that seemed to fantastical to be true. Even still, there were photos of Jakob over the last week that saw him gain tons of pounds within days, even hundreds per day the bigger he got. It seemed impossible, but they were all looking at it so there had to be a way he got so big so fast.

On cue, Jakob walked into the school, trying to squeeze his body in between the school’s opening doorway. He had a shirt on the barely went over his gut, and his legs looked like they rubbed against each other with each step. He was like a fattened balloon of a boy! The group tried to hold back their laughter, but they couldn’t help but mock the fat boy’s misfortune. Eventually he got through, but not without making a ‘plop!’ sound as he did so. This caused even more of an outrage with the group, laughing so much they were told to quiet down by one of the teachers.

The only one who didn’t seem to be enjoying the sight as much as the others was Darius, who just was chuckling awkwardly at the sight.

“Are you feeling alright, Darius?” One of the guys asked.

“Don’t tell me you feel bad for him? He got that fat because of his own mistakes, now he’s just facing the consequences.” Robert said. He didn’t really feel guilt for people who make dumb decisions, since he was typically a pretty pragmatic person.

“No, it’s just...other stuff. I have to go, though. I’ll see you guys after class.” Darius said, walking off from the group.

If they group hadn’t immediately gone back to teasing the big boy, they would’ve noticed Darius walked off in the direction of Jakob. Not that it mattered, since Darius quickly hid himself and Jakob from the public view.

After classes had ended and school was out for the day, Robert was walking out to his car to drive home. He hadn’t seen Darius at lunch, but he just assumed he was busy with work. As he was walking to his car, though, heard his friend run up to him.

“Robert! Wait!” He shouted as Darius ran to catch up with his friend.

“Wassup?” Robert turned around, unplugging his earbuds to hear his friend.

“I made a mix tape for you. You were talking about how you were running out of artists to listen to, so I put some of my favorites on here that aren’t as popular.” Darius said, handing Robert a CD. “You can just download the songs off of that onto your phone. I made it so it’d be easy to move them from the CD to your phone.” He went on to explain.

“Thanks dude! I’ll download them all tonight.” Robert said. He was going to ask where Darius was at lunch, but his friend had already dashed off before he could ask. He could’ve sworn saw an overfed Jakob in Darius’s car, but he shrugged it off. Darius wouldn’t associate with people who don’t treat themselves well.

Once Robert was home, he went to his room go download the music Darius had given him. He loved music, and his friends were always spot-on with his taste. Music was a nice relaxation for Robert, as he was plenty stressed out from school, his part-time job and from his mother. Luckily, the store he worked at was closed for remodeling this week, so Robert was able to relax even more so while still getting paid!

Regardless, right now Robert was focused on the music Darius had given him. He quickly put the CD in his laptop and plugged his phone in too, downloading the music onto his phone as fast as he could. Eager to hear the beats, Robert plugged his earbuds into his laptop and listened to the tracks while they downloaded onto his phone.

As he expected, they were just his style. Darius was spot on in his friend’s taste; the rhythms were just his type, the rhymes, and the lyrics in general, were incredible and the beats were some of the best he had heard. He couldn’t stop listening to them!

In fact, Robert went through the entire CD before realizing they had downloaded onto his phone some time ago. Not only that, but without the music playing he could hear his stomach grumbling to eat. He figured it had been a bit since he had started listening, but it actually hadn’t been more than an hour. He usually wasn’t this hungry so soon, but Robert couldn’t deny how starved he felt. He went downstairs to the kitchen to satisfy himself, grabbing a bag of chips and a water bottle.

He turned on the TV and opened the bag of chips, grabbing a handful each time he went to feed himself. While Robert was eating, he realized he finished his water bottle quickly so he went to get himself another drink. Normally he would’ve just gotten more water, but he decided he would treat himself to a soda. One would hurt, right? He cracked open the can and started to drink it down, going back to the couch to munch on his chips as he did so. Robert felt completely relaxed, glad he didn’t have anything to stress about in the week ahead.

This stress free attitude caused Robert to eat the entire bag of chips, though, which caused him to worry a bit. “I’ll just eat less at dinner.” He thought to himself. But he still felt hungry, but he figured chips weren’t the most filling so it sorta made sense.

As if on cue, Robert’s mother walked through the front door and said, “I’m home! I’m thinking of making pasta for dinner!”

Robert’s worries of eating too much were quickly pushed to the side. He loved his mother’s pasta, and he wasn’t going to pass up this opportunity to enjoy it! The cheese melted in his mouth, the sauce had the best spices in it, and the pasta blended well with all of the ingredients! It was like heaven on a plate, except in pasta form.

And Robert did overstuff himself with his mother’s pasta, struggling to get himself upstairs to go to bed. He hadn’t realized it was so late, or that he had spent his entire afternoon just eating, but the boy was so tired nothing else was that important to him. He washed up and then went to bed, whilst listening to the music Darius had offered him earlier that day.

Tuesday

Robert woke up feeling much better than he had last night, thanks to his stomach not being crammed full of pasta. He sat up, but noticed something off. His stomach seemed to puff out a bit more, whereas it was relatively flat yesterday. Robert maintained his fitness, since he played for his school’s basketball team. Though, he figured he could work this weight off in time for basketball season anyways, so he didn’t worry too much about it.

He got up and got a shower, and then went to go put his clothes on. As he did, Robert noticed his shirt looked a bit more snug around his stomach. He decided he would work the weight off after school was out, and then went downstairs to drive to school.

Robert arrived a bit late, so he wasn’t able to meet up with his friends in the morning. Luckily they were all able to meet up at lunch, which was a nice break from his classes. The group talked about the school again, as well as what happened to Jakbo too. Apparently he hadn’t shown up today, but everyone just figured he was too lazy to come to school given his weight.

The group got distracted on a topic, and Robert wasn’t too interested so he got on his phone.

“How were the songs?” Darius asked, moving over to sit next to Robert.

“They were so good! You really know my tastes dude!” Robert graciously replied. The two went on to talk about the music, and how much Robert was into it. Both boys were interested in the conversation, but it seemed like Robert was doing more of the talking.

After Robert’s gushing about the songs, Darius simply smiled and said, “I’m glad you like them so much.”

Robert was about to continue on with the conversation with more music he had found, but Darius interrupted him as if he remembered something. “I’m free today after school for once. Would you want to go out to eat and hang out?” He asked.

“Yeah, sure dude. I’m not doing much anyways.” Robert replied, and he continued on with his conversation about music afterwards. The conversation continued as before, with Darius not saying much while Robert did most of the talking.

When classes were over and done with, Robert met Darius in the parking lot of the school. “Is it cool if I drive? I can drop you back off at your car.” Darius offered.

“Yeah, sure dude. That’s fine with me.” Robert happily agreed. It was less stress on him if he wasn’t driving anyways.

On the ride to the restaurant, Robert, again did most of the talking. Darius barely said anything besides, “Yeah.” “Me too.” and “I completely agree.” Robert wasn’t sure why he was talking so much, like he was trying to get on Darius’s good side. He didn’t stop himself, though, and just went on talking to his friend.

When Darius stopped, Robert looked at the building only to realize they were at a McDonald’s.

Darius started to talk as he turned off the car, “Sorry it isn’t a nicer place. We can try to go somewhere else if-”

“No! It’s, uh. It’s fine.” Robert blurted out. He didn’t expect himself to be so volatile, but Darius didn’t seem too bothered by it.

Robert didn’t have much time to worry about it, either, as he felt his stomach let out a huge growl as he got out of Darius’s car. He didn’t think he was that hungry, but his body was telling him otherwise.

As the two entered the McDonald’s, Darius told Robert to sit down while he ordered. Robert didn’t seen a reason to object and got a table by the windows that had two seats. He waited for Darius to come sit down, which felt way longer than it actually was. Robert blamed his intense hunger, which had only gotten stronger since he had walked in, but somewhere in the back of his mind he knew it was something else too.

After a minute or two, which felt like ten times that amount to Robert, Darius sat down across from Robert at the table.

“I thought you were hungry so I ordered a bit more for you. Hope that doesn’t mess up your diet too much.” Darius explained.

“Nah dude, it’s fine. I’m just glad we’re both free so we can hang out.” Robert said, before going on another long talk again. He didn’t even notice that he talked until their order was ready, but Darius was soon up and at the register again to get their food.

Robert’s stomach nearly roared as Darius came back with their order. Darius had gotten a chicken sandwich and iced tea for himself, while the rest of the tray was Robert’s food. It actually looked like a meal for 4 or 5 people, despite Darius’s light meal choice. Darius had gotten Robert 8 extra large Big Mac meals, since there was a buy 1 get 1 free deal on them. They included a Big Mac, an extra large fry and a large soda, all of which wreaked of calories. Despite the greasy mess the tray held, once Darius sat it down Robert dug in with gusto. He couldn’t contain his hunger any longer, and grabbed a Big Mac in each hand, taking alternating bites out of each sandwich.

Meanwhile, Darius too small bites out of his sandwich, watching Robert pig out on his order. He had never seen Robert so ravenous, as he was usually a collected guy. He decided this would be a moment to remember, and ate his sandwich while taking in the scene of his friend.

Surprisingly, not so to Darius, Robert finished all his food in record time. I had barely been 10 minutes before he had hogged down the meals that would’ve served a family. Darius, who wasn’t even halfway through his sandwich, smiled as he saw his friend sit back and take a break from eating. It wasn’t a long respite, however, as Robert’s stomach let out a monstrous growl soon after.

“I can go order more if you want, dude. No big deal to me.” Darius offered, hearing his friend’s hunger.

Robert would normally object, since he didn’t like being handed stuff for free, but decided that now wasn’t a time to hold his values in high regard. Darius had even left before he could object, so there wasn’t much point anyways.

Once again, Darius came back with a tray full of food that looked like it was for a party. This time he had ordered 10 extra large Big Mac meals, hoping this would be enough to satiate his friend. And, once again, Robert downed them all like a starved creature.

This time, however, Darius finished his sandwich before Robert had finished, leaving him free to help sooner rather than later. Once more, Darius came back with 14 extra large Big Mac meals.

“I thought you’d be hungry still, considering how much you’ve eaten.” Darius chuckled, setting the heavy tray down. Robert was going to say something about eating so much fast food, but his stomach let out another growl to prevent him from doing so.

Once Robert downed these 14 meals his stomach seemed satisfied. However, the boy was exhausted and didn’t feel like he could move at all. His stomach was so bloated it lifted his shirt up to his bellybutton, where it was comfortably loose before.

Darius decided to help his friend out and pulled a chair up next to Robert. He then put his hand on Robert’s bloated belly and started rubbing. Robert was a bit weirded out at first, but the sensation was so good he didn’t want Darius to stop. It also helped relieve the pain, which allowed him a bit more mobility.

Soon enough, Robert felt comfortable enough to get up and go to Darius’s car. He drove slowly to keep Robert from feeling sick, but eventually Robert felt good enough that Darius could drive at a typical speed.

“You sure you’ll be fine?” Darius asked, dropping Robert off at his house.

“Yeah, I think I’m even starting to feel a bit hungry again!” Robert joked, but he was a bit serious. He was starting to feel like he had to eat something now.

Darius just laughed it off, though, and said, “If you need anything let me know.” And with that, Robert was back home and just in time for dinner.

Robert’s mom had ordered takeout, since she was too tired to cook anything that day. Normally Robert would never eat fast food right after a huge fast food binge, but he normally wouldn’t have had a fast food binge in the first place. He didn’t question his appetite and stuffed his gullet some more, almost to the point he did at McDonald’s. In fact, he might’ve overdone it compared to McDonald’s!

Robert felt incredibly tired after eating so much, though, so he decided to go to bed early to rest off all the eating. As he was thinking about tomorrow, he suddenly remembered his car was still in the school parking lot! He hoped it hadn’t gotten towed yet, but he had no other way to get to school now, since his mom went to work before he even got up. Robert decided to text Darius about it, since he was so helpful earlier.

Darius was completely okay with helping Robert out, and even said he’d help for the rest of the week if Robert couldn’t get his car back. Robert felt a sensation under his bloated belly about Darius’s willingness to help, but brushed it off as him being tired. He had had a weird day anyways, so he put his headphones on and went to bed, hoping tomorrow would be better.

Wednesday

When Robert woke up he felt groggy. He didn’t want to move, and when he tried to he didn’t feel very mobile. Sitting up felt like a bit of a challenge, but he wasn’t sure why. His first thought was all the food, but he didn’t feel bloated. In fact, he actually felt heavier all around, not just in his gut.

Once he started to wake up a bit more, Robert realized what was going on. He had actually gotten fatter overnight! He looked in his bedroom mirror, and analyzed himself. His belly was hanging over his pants and lifting his shirt halfway up. His pants felt uncomfortably tight, and he also noticed his face was rounded out. If he looked down a little, he had a second chin showing.

Robert was about to panic and freak out about going to school like this, but when he placed his hand on his belly he...sorta liked it. He wasn’t sure why, but it had a nice feeling. A stirring in his pants also signified this, but Robert ignored that for the time being.

He went to go get a shower, where he felt the water run on the new curves of his body, which caused Robert to admire his body even more. He then went to eat breakfast, downing two bowls of cereal and half a gallon of milk before Darius arrived to pick him up. Darius didn’t say much about Robert’s tight clothes, which had been incredibly loose on him prior to this. They were the only thing that kept his entire stomach hidden, so he didn’t have much of a choice in what he wore.

Classes seemed to go by normally, though Robert did get more stares from people in the hallways. His group of friends seemed less eager to talk to him as well, except for Darius who Robert talked to for the entire lunch period. Robert wasn’t sure why, but he was enjoying his conversations with Darius a lot more than he had before.

“Hey, do you wanna go back to McDonald’s today after school? I really liked the last time we were there.” Darius offered.

Robert was elated, and immediately said, “Yeah, of course!” He was eager to hang out with Darius at any opportunity he had, plus he was feeling a bit peckish already, despite eating all of his own and Darius’s lunches.

Classes after lunch came and went, with Robert only thinking about going to McDonald’s with Darius. He was finding himself more tired than usual, and he wasn’t even doing anything he’d consider intense. Walking around just seemed like a more difficult task, which was starting to take a toll on Robert. He just wanted to eat and hang out with Darius.

Once the school day had ended, Robert eagerly walked to Darius’s car, where Darius was waiting for him. They drove to McDonald’s, with Robert doing most of the talking, along with his belly which let out loud growls of hunger. Neither boy seemed too surprised by it, even though Robert had essentially been snacking all day. Darius had given him some chips and other snacks from vending machines around the school to keep his hunger at bay, but they didn’t seem to affect much.

When the boys arrived at the McDonald’s, Robert eagerly hurried out of the car to the front door of the restaurant, Darius following behind him. They sat at a booth this time, which surprisingly left room for Robert’s belly so he wasn’t uncomfortable. Robert stayed at the booth while Darius went to get the food, again at Darius’s desire.

He returned with 14 extra large Big Mac meals, since the sale was still going on, and a grilled chicken salad for himself. Once he set the tray down, Robert immediately grabbed one of the cardboard boxes, ripped it open and attacked the burger. It tasted delicious despite being a greasy sandwich with little thought or preparation put into making it, and Robert finished it within a minute. He downed the accompanying fries and soda before moving on to the next burger. Darius smiled at the turn of events, delicately eating his salad and his friend bored his way through his 14 meals.

Robert finished before Darius had even gotten halfway through his salad, letting out a huge belch when he was done with the last soda.

“I guess your appetite hasn’t changed much from yesterday.” Darius joked before getting up and ordering more food for Robert.

This continued for some time, with Darius’s orders for Robert increasing each time. From 18 meals, to 20 meals to eventually 24 meals, Darius didn’t stop until Robert felt satisfied.

Robert let out a huge belch, and then said, “Oh man, that stuff is so good!” He rubbed his bloated stomach, hoping to settle it down so he could eat some more. He didn’t think about why he wanted to eat more, he just wanted to.

“You sure you’re full? I can go get more food if you want.” Darius offered, sitting next to Robert to help soothe his belly. Robert just let out a relaxed moan, not bothered by what he would do next.

“Let’s go get ice cream. I’m in the mood for some.” Darius said, and almost immediately after Robert said, “Yeah, sure!”

Once the two arrived at the ice cream parlor, which was just outside of town, Darius ordered ice cream cones for him and Robert. He took them back to the car and handed Robert his much larger cone, while he started on his own.

Despite gorging on tons of fast food earlier, Robert digs through his cone like he’s starved. Darius goes back to get more ice cream, but this time gets a sundae for Robert.

“You know, your new appetite suits you.” Darius started as he gave Robert his sundae, “You’re so relaxed, enjoying yourself and you seem happier than I’ve ever seen you before.”

Robert down his sundae, listening to Darius as he did so. “Plus...it’s kinda cute.” Darius started again, but this time Robert’s interest was especially piqued. “You just let go and don’t care. I really like that. And all this extra weight, it’s doing wonders for you body.” Darius said as he got closer to Robert.

Robert felt an incredible sensation under his stuffed belly, feeling his tool rub against the bloated form. He had to hold himself back as Darius planted a quick kiss on his cheek, nearly losing all etiquette in the moment.

“I’d love for you to just keep eating with me and growing. Would you want that, too? At least for me?” Darius pleaded.

“Yes! Yes, I’ll do it!” Robert nearly moaned out.

Darius smirked. He had Robert right were he wanted him.

Shortly after, and a few sundaes later, Darius was driving Robert home. He had eaten tons today, more than anyone could ever expect any person to eat. They said their goodbyes, though a bit more compassionate this time, and Robert went to his room.

His erection had been nagging him for some time now, so he decided the first thing he would do is relieve himself. He took off all his clothes, not like they fit well anyways, and got to work. As he was pleasuring himself, Robert started to feel up his bigger body. He was starting to like--no, love--the feeling. He squished his moobs, which almost fit perfectly in his hand. He rubbed his hand across his bloated gut, releasing moans of pleasure as he did so. He felt his chubby thighs and butt, realizing how big he had gotten there as well.

All of this was too much for Robert, and before he knew it he felt a wave of pleasure as he came. The sensation was too much for him to bear, and he fell asleep right then and there, forgetting about a shower or other hygienics in his nightly routine.

Thursday

Robert started to wake up, but he didn’t really want to get out of bed. He didn’t feel like he had the energy to get up, but if he did he felt too lazy to want to get up. His eyes groggily opened and closed, adjusting to the sunlight coming in from his window.

The sunlight was annoying, and it was enough so to make Robert want to get up and close the blinds. When he went to get up, though, he barely felt himself sit upright. Robert went to look down to see what the problem was, but even that was difficult. In fact, he still felt like he was half asleep with how difficult it was to see. He tried rolling over to get out of bed and landed on the floor with a heavy thump.

He pushed himself up, though still not without difficulties, and went to his bedroom mirror to see what the problem was. Though, once Robert saw his reflection he knew it wasn’t an issue, but something great!

Robert didn’t fit in his bedroom mirror, but he could tell he had gotten much bigger over night. He could see his face was much chubbier and his body was bigger, but he couldn’t see many specific details about his body. So, he decided to go to the bathroom which had a larger mirror.

Robert waddled his way to the bathroom, getting more and more turned on with each step, feeling his flab jiggle from such slight movements. Once he was able to see his reflection, Robert was at full mast. He’d take care of himself then and there, but he was too busy admiring his new body.

His belly looked to be as wide as three men and it sank down to his thighs, almost covering his knees. Sitting above his belly were his moobs, which looked to be the size of melons. His nipples had also expanded and were pretty sensitive now, which Robert also loved. Turning to his side, Robert saw how far how his belly went out. It had to be more than a foot in length, but his focus quickly turned to his thighs which looked just as large! They were covered in cellulite, jiggling whenever Robert took a step. Robert then turned around and got a look at his huge ass. Each cheek looked to be two or three times the size of one of his moobs, and they looked just a jiggly as his thighs did!

As he admired his form in the bathroom mirror, Robert got an idea and waddled back to his room for his phone. He then went back into the bathroom and sat on the counter, his belly face away from the mirror. Robert then took a selfie where he was facing the mirror, getting his huge butt cheeks and rolls of back fat in the image.

Quickly afterwards, Robert text Darius the picture saying, “You like how big I’ve grown? 😉”

A few seconds later, Darius text Robert back, “🥵🥵🥵 Damn baby! You’re looking so sexy, but you need to get bigger.”

Robert wanted to get bigger, too. He knew he had to eat tons, and even that thought turned him on. He decided to go get dressed and head downstairs, completely forgetting about getting a shower. Robert put on a muscle shirt, which was the thing that covered his belly the most. He also put on some gym shorts that had been too big for him a month ago. Now, they completely showed off how fat his ass was, as well as how thick his thighs were.

Waddling downstairs nearly out of breath, Robert saw his mother had bought donuts, as there was a box of donuts left out. There were only 11 left, but Robert was glad there was tasty food at home at all! He started stuffing the donuts into his mouth, getting chocolate and icing all over his face and shirt. Halfway through the donuts he realized he didn’t have a drink, so Robert opened the refrigerator and pulled out a gallon of milk, drinking directly from that. He got some milk on his face that trickled down his fat body, but he was too busy eating to notice.

A few minutes later all the donuts and milk had been consumed, leaving Robert full and ready for Darius to come pick him up. As he was relaxing, he let out a deep belch just as he heard Darius beep his horn to tell Robert he was outside. Robert then waddled outside to Darius’s car, grabbing his bookbag as he left.

Once he was in Darius’s car, Darius brought him in for a long kiss, rubbing Robert’s belly as he did so. Robert and Darius talked about how big Robert had gotten on the way to school, as well as how Robert would grow bigger eventually.

Robert didn’t think of much besides himself growing bigger or Darius for the rest of the day. He didn’t pay attention in classes, trying to eat the snacks Darius had given him that morning. Once lunch rolled around, Robert couldn’t wait to see Darius.

The two met up with their usual group, but they had been distancing themselves from Robert that week. Not that Robert cared, so long as he had Darius. Darius had brought bags of fast food to lunch, and he intended to stuff all of it into Robert. As he started to do so, though, Robert was letting out moans and groans of discomfort.

“What’s wrong, Robert?” Darius asked, not wanting to blow their cover and call Robert his significant other in public.

“I...I can reach below my belly. But I’m so horny!” Robert whined, trying to stretch his fat sausage of an arm below his gut to relieve himself.

Darius smirked seeing the situation, and said, “Here, feed yourself for a bit. I’ll help you out.”

He then reached under Robert’s belly, groping Robert’s fat as he did so. Robert let out pleasureful moans the entire time, even before Darius grabbed his dick. When Darius found what he wanted, though, Robert’s moans only became louder and more frequent. They were almost starting to annoy their group of friends. Not like they cared, though.

As Darius jerked Robert off, Robert went into overdrive when eating. He finished all of the fast food, as well as his school lunch. Shortly after he finished his food, Robert finally released, with Darius rubbing Robert’s huge gut as he let out exasperated breaths.

“I...I’ve been trying to...do that all morning...thanks babe.” Robert panted, Darius just smiling as Robert was completely infatuated with him.

“What do you say we go out to eat right now. Skip the rest of our classes.” Darius suggested. He knew what Robert would say. Even before all of this, Robert was never one to say no to skipping class.

“Hell yeah! I’m still so hungry!” Robert groaned as he belly let out a big grumble.

And so the two went to McDonald’s. And the ice cream parlor. And a new buffet in town. And all of the buffets in town, in fact. Darius had driven Robert to nearly every greasy fast food place in town, and he ate all of them out. Well, the buffets had to completely refresh their stock, at least. And the ice cream parlor had to wait for their new shipment of food. McDonald’s too.

Regardless, Robert was an eating machine, and he was only full after cleaning out a few establishment’s worth of food.

“You wanna come back to my place? I can make some stuff for you to eat since you ate all the food from all the places in town.” Darius offered, laughing at Robert’s gluttony.

The stuffed boy let out a huge belch before replying. “That sounds great! I’m always down to eat more!”

Robert’s binge streak had caused him to act more like a slob, what with all the food being shoved in his face constantly. His shirt looked more like a dirty rag now, and his face was almost always covered with foot bits and sauces. He also let out more belches, and even some farts, but he didn’t seem to care that it disturb other people. Darius was fine with it, so why should he care?

Once the two arrived at Darius’s house, Darius had to help Robert out of the car. He could feel Darius’s hard abs against his flab, and got turned on by the sensation. He wanted more of that sensation, and decided getting fatter would be the best way to get more pleasure like that.

Darius helped Robert waddle inside before sitting him down at a table just outside the kitchen. It wasn’t big enough to be a dining room table, but it had a few seats around it and was big enough to have food on it which is all Robert cared about.

A few moments later, Darius came into the room with a cake and some platters of other treats. Donuts, brownies, pastries; all laid out for Robert to eat. Of course, Robert immediately started stuffing his face with the food, not bothering to make sure all of it got in his mouth. He even grabbed hunks of cakes with his bare hands, too concerned with devouring it to care about how clean he was.

It wasn’t surprising that he finished all the treats within 10 minutes, letting out a big belch afterwards to give himself more room to eat. Darius wasn’t letting up either, bringing out 2 large pizzas and some chicken wings, both of which dripped with grease. Robert tore into them, too, getting grease all over his body since his shirt had stretched up to make room for his belly. Robert’s pants had snapped off too, but he was so big his privates were hidden. It did let him show off his huge ass, though.

This cycle continued, Darius bringing out his seemingly endless amounts of delicious foods constantly. Even Robert was surprised, since he had eaten out a few buffets in town. However, he was no match for Darius and felt stuffed a few hours after arriving home with him. He let out an enormous fart, jiggling his body, once he was done.

“You ate quiet a lot fat boy.” Darius giggled, jiggling Robert’s huge thigh.

“Yeah...I was...*pant*...hungry.” Robert goofily smiled. He wanted to eat more, but he knew there wasn’t any room in his gut for that.

“Let’s get you upstairs. Tomorrow’s gonna be a big day, too.” Darius whispered, exciting Robert. The big boy was too tired to think about it too much, though, so he lazily fell onto Darius’s bed once the hunk got him there. Shortly after, he felt Darius’s arms wrap around him and fall asleep shortly afterwards. He barely even noticed the headphones go on his head.

“Sleep well, baby.” Darius started, rubbing and fondling Robert’s fat, “I know you’ll love these extra special mix tapes I prepared for you.”

Friday

Robert woke up, feeling a heaviness push down on him. Instead of worrying him, however, it made his dick stand at full attention. He tried moving, but only brought ripples throughout his body. He knew he had gotten fat, but now Robert realized he was huge. He couldn’t wait for Darius to see him, though!

He tried turning to his side to see his boyfriend, but he could barely see over his chins of fat. With enough force and desire, though, he was able to flip over to his side only to see Darius wasn’t in bed with him. He was going to try and get up to see where his boyfriend had went, but his venture was shortly stopped when he hear a voice.

“Oh, you’re finally up!” Darius cheered.

Robert couldn’t see him well, but he could smell that he had food. Darius set his platters down and sat Robert up. His belly pooled out in front of him, showing off his many rolls of fat. His moobs sagged on his sides, chafing his meats sacks of arms a bit. His thighs were as thick as he was on Wednesday, and his butt cheeks were each the size of 5 basketballs.

Now that he was sitting up, Robert could see that Darius was also naked, except for his underwear. He could now admire Darius’s muscled body, including his abs he had felt yesterday. Robert was too enthralled and turned on to question Darius feeding him breakfast food from the platters he had set down. Not that he minded, since he was hungry anyways.

Donuts, bagels, pancakes, waffles, bacon and even cereal were fed to Robert, who was too big to comfortably feed himself. Though, since Darius had to press his hard Adonis body against Robert’s flabby fat, Robert didn’t mind at all.

Once Robert finished all the breakfast food, though, Darius left for a bit and came back up with lunch. Burgers replaced pancakes, pasta replaced donuts, wings replace bacon and more fattening foods were brought into Darius’s room, which had become Robert’s personal diner now. The boy got grease all over himself, distracting him from the fact he felt sweatier. It didn’t cover his gassiness, though, which had increased two-fold from yesterday. Darius didn’t mind the extra gas, and Robert loved the feeling whenever he let out a big belch or a fart, so he just kept them coming.

Soon, or at least soon to Robert, Darius had left again and Robert assumed lunch was over. However, Darius came up with more food and placed in down again.

“Hope you’re ready for your midday dessert.” Darius winked before grabbing ahold of Robert and flipping him on his belly. Darius then set the platter of food, which consistent of a amalgamation of what he was set earlier, right in front of Robert’s face. Robert knew what he was supposed to do and shoved his face into the unhealthy food.

As Robert dug in, Darius stripped himself of his only piece of clothing, that being his underwear. He then got on the bed and guided himself on top of Robert. Robert felt this, and his dick immediately got hard again. That didn’t stop him from eating, though, and decided not to question Darius about what was happening.

Shortly after, Darius took his own hardness and shoved it in between Robert’s huge ass cheeks. It took him a bit to find what he was looking for, but a yelp from Robert signaled he found what he wanted. Then, he started to fuck the fat boy, moaning in pleasure as his week’s worth of work paid off.

“Damn baby, you’re so massive!” Darius enforced, as well as remarked. He loved how huge Robert had gotten, and he knew Robert loved it too, whether it be his own love or his desire to impress Darius.

Shortly after, Darius released and came into Robert, who also let out an orgasmic moan from. The fatty released shortly after as well, continuing to stuff his face as Darius left more food out for him. Though, he passed out once there wasn’t any food left for him to eat.

Darius admired his new pig and laughed. He was eager to see what would come of Robert.

Saturday (Epilogue)

An iron door creaked as the manipulator walked down the stairs. It was dark, though not quiet. A muffled moaning sound could be heard, as could the sound of large mass squishing and moving. The smell was also atrocious, as if someone had brought back the stench of a restaurant’s bathroom to the place. To anyone else, it would be repulsive, but to this puppeteer ti was delightful.

He turned the lights on, slowly walking over to one of his latest projects. It looked like a mass amount of clay had conglomerated into sweaty, smelly pile. Though, the master really knew what it was.

“Jakob, I’m glad to see you’re enjoying yourself!” Darius said, jiggling the form in front of him.

The machinery under the blob shifted, giving it a slightly more human form. Or, at least, a human face. The blob let out a pleased moan, all it could do with the tube of lard in its mouth.

“I know you’re getting a bit lonely down here, but don’t worry. You’ll have a friend to play with soon enough!” Darius encouraged the blob, hearing it let out a huge fart that made the form jiggle for a good minute.

Darius smiled as the blob got more and more excited. He pushed a button and heard its excited sounds grow louder and louder before slowly quieting down and ceasing.

“Aren’t you glad I’m letting you enjoy yourself? Where else can you just be my lazy, horny boyfriend?” Darius asked the blob.

It let out pleasureful moans again, before Darius hit the button once more and caused the moans to get louder again. Once again, they slowed down before silencing and Darius saw the results of that go up a tube and into the room over.

“And just you wait. There’s going to be so many friends you’ll meet, Jakob.” Darius said devilishly. “I can’t wait for you to meet them all!”

#weight gain #male weight gain #gay weight gain #weight gain story

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libsterslobsters · 3 years

Text

Sick Again

Summary: It's the worst time of month for the reader, and on top of the difficulty of dealing with her period, she's having an awful, no good, very bad day all around. Lucky for her, Bucky just wants to help.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem! enhanced! Reader

(Reader can see shards of the future and understand every language)

Warnings: mild angst, mentions of blood and menstruation, language, fluff

Author's note: This is the softest shit I've ever written for this site! In real life, I'm lucky enough to have someone who goes out of their way to make my day better when I'm dealing with my period, so I thought the reader deserved that too. As always, I've left the reader unnamed so this can be read as a self-insert, but I've written so much about this character that, in my head, her name is Violet.

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She knows it’s going to be a rough one from the moment she wakes up. She’s slept through her alarm somehow (either that, or she forgot to set it), and she’s not entirely sure if her phone dinging with a good morning text that’s brought her out of unconsciousness, or the dull ache in her lower stomach. Cramps. Great. As she stands, she realizes that it’s already started, the bed has a noticable red splotch and her thighs are wet. Her period has arrived. Hey, at least she’s not pregnant. That would be some relief if she were actually having sex.

While waiting for the shower to heat up (after stripping the bed of course; she’ll have to do something about those sheets to make sure they don’t stain), she reads over her text. “Good morning, sweetheart.” That’s a new one. He must be exploring different pet names. So far, she feels awkward using anything other than his given name. Still, she smiles and types back a “Good morning. How are you always so damn chipper?” before stepping into the shower.

There’s not a lot of options for breakfast, and every single one of them turns her stomach as she imagines consuming them. With a sigh, she shoves some spare change in her pocket and vows to buy herself a cup of coffee on the way to the college. It’ll give her the jitters, but she’s so tired this morning that it’s a risk she’s willing to take.

Unfortunately, by the time she arrives at work, her head is pounding and the cramps have gone from unpleasant to downright painful. Her plan for this morning’s class was to read the children’s classic, “Green Eggs and Ham”, have a discussion about rhyming words, and then have her students work on simple poems of their own, but she’s feeling so bad that she decides to make it a movie day and have them translate a scene of their choosing from a Romanian cartoon into English.

Usually she enjoys her work. The students always ask great questions, and the thing she likes most about teaching adults is they’re here because they want to learn. Today, however? It feels like every minute lasts five times as long as it should, and by lunch time, she’s wilting. When her phone rings, she almost sends it to voicemail, but then he’d worry about her, and besides, the highlight of her whole shitty day so far has been that good morning text.

“Hey, Bucky.” As she says it, a wave of nausea hits her, and she has to take a deep breath before continuing. “What’s new on the other side of the city?”

She really should be paying attention, but she feels bad enough that most of what he says goes in one ear and out the other. She’s so muddled in fact that she doesn’t realize he’s asked her something until the line goes silent for a few seconds too long.

“I’m sorry. Say again?”

“Doll, are you okay? You sound a little…” he hesitates. “...not like yourself.”

She’s prepared to tell him she’s fine, right as rain, but one thing they both absolutely agree on is honesty between them, since they have to tell so many lies to the outside world on a day-to-day basis.

“I’m not feeling that well today, but I’ll be okay.”

“What’s going on? Are you coming down with something, do you think?” Yeah, her period, but if what she’s read about the nineteen forties is anything to judge from, he’s probably not used to hearing about that particular bodily function.

“No. It happens every so often. I’ll be good as new in a few days.” But right now, she sure as shit wishes she’d remembered to grab a few aspirin.

“If you say so. Do you want me to swing by after you get home from work and bring you anything?” That would be really, really great, but considering she still has blood-stained sheets soaking in her bathtub…

“No, that’s alright. Thanks anyway.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

It’s a mercy she only has two afternoon classes, neither of which are very intense, so by two o’clock, she’s on the bus home. All she wants to do is curl up into a ball on one of the seats in hopes it’ll alleviate some of the pain in her abdomen, but then an older gentleman with a cane boards the bus and there aren’t any other seats available, so she waves him over and gives him her seat. It’s only another ten minutes, after all. Finally, the bus stops a few blocks from her apartment so, slinging her over-filled backpack onto her shoulder, she sets off on the trudge home.

She’s just set foot into the building when a woman she recognizes as her neighbor from a few doors down comes her way. “The heat is out and the super is off who knows where.” Great. She thought it felt a little chilly in here, and now that she’s paying attention, her breath is forming ice crystals in the air. She thanks her neighbor for the warning and, collecting her mail, heads towards the elevator.

Because her luck is shitty, she has a vision of pressing the buttons and waiting, only for nothing to happen. Looks like the elevator is out too. The stairs then. No big deal. She only lives on the sixth floor. It could be worse. Of course, on her way up, her backpack strap breaks, so she has to shift to carrying it in her arms. Today is just not her day, and she needs to accept it.

That truth becomes even more apparent as she reaches her door (at last!) and realizes that her key is nowhere to be found. She must’ve dropped it in the stairwell when her backpack gave out. She’ll have to go searching for it later, but for now, she digs around in her purse and, producing the right implements, proceeds to pick her own lock and let herself inside.

It shouldn’t be possible, but her apartment is actually colder than the hallway was. Feeling utterly defeated, she drops her backpack onto the couch with a thump and, not bothering to peel off her coat, climbs into bed. Maybe she can get a power nap and it’ll give her enough energy to get through the papers she needs to grade before tomorrow.

___________________________________________________________________________________

The first sign of trouble appears when he texts her ten minutes after the usual time she arrives home, and there’s no reply. From what he’s read, lots of people take a while to return texts or phone calls, but not her. No, she’s always prompt. Thirty seconds or less. Then, he tries to call, ask her if she’s feeling any better and if she’s sure she doesn’t want him to bring her anything. After eight rings, he gets her voicemail. He’s not great at leaving messages, so he just goes with the basics. Hey, it’s Bucky. Just checking on you. Call me back when you’re up to it. Another hour passes, and nothing.

He can’t just sit around his apartment worrying, so he decides to do what he was planning on earlier when he sent the first text: ignore that she’s told him she doesn’t need anything and go to pick up some supplies, then drop them by her front door. No need to go inside if she’d rather not have company. They don’t even have to see each other. He wonders briefly as he’s going through the grocery store, adding cans of soup to his cart, if this is crossing a boundary. Should he just leave her be, since she said she didn’t need anything? Is this pushing too far? He doesn’t know, but he can’t stop imagining her all alone with no one to take care of her. Sure, she can look after herself, but she doesn’t have to. No, a few cans of soup and some tea won’t go amiss. That’s all he’ll do unless she asks for his help.

The bus ride is a little awkward, considering the two huge paper bags he’s carrying with him, but that’s the least of his worries as he sends her another text that he’s dropping a few things by her door, but not to worry about making conversation if she’s not up to it, he won’t come in. No reply, again. A huge part of him wants to get off at the next stop and just run the rest of the way (it’d probably be faster), but that seems like a good way to attract attention, so he forces himself to stay in his seat, waiting for the right street.

The lobby is freezing when he steps inside. There’s a thermometer hanging by the elevator. It’s in celcius, but he rapidly translate the temperature. Roughly thirty-eight degrees fahrenheit. In other words, cold as fuck. As he’s waiting for the elevator to return to the ground floor, a man passes by him and mutters, “You’re going to be waiting a long time, son. It’s out of order.” Of course it is. This isn’t the worst apartment building in the city, but it’s not too far off. The stairs, then.

He’s halfway up the six flights to her floor when he sees something on the ground, something he immediately recognizes because of the butterfly key chain attached. Her keys. Now he’s not just worried; he’s outright scared. Grabbing up the keys, he hurriedly climbs the last three flights and, no longer concerned about looking suspicious, knocks hard on her door. Nothing. Fuck. What should he do? The obvious answer is to use the damn keys (he has a spare set, but he’s never let himself in without her express permission before) and go inside. So, that’s what he does, hoping against hope that there’s a logical explanation for all this. One besides something being very, very wrong.

It feels like someone left the air conditioning on full blast inside the apartment. At first he thinks a window must be open, but as he walks from kitchen to living room (all four paces of it), he sees nothing out of the ordinary. Well, except her backpack. The strap has given out, and it’s been thrown haphazardly on the couch. So at least she made it home.

He calls her name quietly, then a little louder before making his way towards her bedroom, not wanting to startle her. The bathroom door is ajar, and without meaning to, he glances inside. Immediately, he freezes. There’s a set of bed sheets in the tub, and… is that blood? Shit! How could he be this stupid? He should’ve rushed over the second he realized she’d taken too long to return a text. Now who knows what’s happened?

The bedroom door is closed, so he can’t see inside. A cold sweat has broken out on the back of his neck as, slowly, he turns the doorknob. He’s got one hand on his pocket with the knife concealed inside as he eases the door open, but there’s no need. She’s all alone in there, curled into a ball on her stripped bed, still in her coat and hat. Thanks to his better than average sight, even from a distance, he can tell that she’s breathing, body shifting slightly with each inhale and exhale, and in return, he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

He approaches the bed as quietly as he can so as not to disturb her. She’s really out then, if she hasn’t woken up from the mattress dipping as he sits down next to her. He doesn’t touch her, just holds the palm of his good hand a few millimeters away from her forehead. No fever from what he can tell. He feels a little foolish now, because it appears that she’s perfectly fine. More than likely was asleep and didn’t hear the text alert. Still, for his own peace of mind, he needs to hear as much from her.

“Doll, can you wake up for me?” As he says it, he pushes back a few stray hairs that have stuck to her forehead in sleep. Her eyelids flutter once, twice, before opening all the way.

“Bucky? What-” She starts to sit up, then groans.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She shakes her head, a pained smile in place. “At least, nothing major.” He’s not sure he buys that, but before he can give it anymore consideration- “What are you doing here?”

There’s no good way to put it, so he goes with the truth.

“When you didn’t answer your phone, I got worried. I was gonna come by and drop some things off at the door, but when I found your keys in the stairwell-”

“Oh.” She chuckles softly. “So that’s where they went. I had to pick the lock on my own front door. Must’ve dropped them when the strap broke on my backpack.” That answers that. Not a fight. Not her running to get away and, in her haste, losing her keys. Just an ordinary mishap.

“Sorry.” Without thinking, he scratches at his neck. “Guess I got a little carried away.”

“No, don’t be sorry.” She shakes her head and, offering him a small smile, takes his hand. “It’s sweet of you to worry. Although I didn’t mean for you to.” Worrying about her seems to be a permanent part of his life, and frankly, it’s one he wouldn’t get rid of even if he could. That reminds him…

“Why were there blood-soaked sheets in your tub?” Her cheeks heat up, and he immediately hates himself. “Sorry. The door was open and I saw-”

“It’s okay.” She looks down, studying her lap. “This is embarrassing to talk about, but I started my period last night in my sleep.” Oh. “That’s why I wasn’t feeling so hot today, and before I went to work, I put the sheets in the tub to soak.” That makes sense. If he felt stupid before, now he feels like an absolute moron.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” It wasn’t exactly something that was commonly talked about when he was growing up, but he’s an adult. He knows how this works. “I shouldn’t have pried.”

“We’re together now, right?” Frowning in confusion, he nods. “Pry away. I’ll tell you to fuck off if you push too far. After all, I think you know my biggest secret.” He chuckles and leans forward, planting a kiss on her forehead.

“I think that’s mutual.” Now that he knows she’s okay, it’s time to get to work. “Is it okay if I go ahead and unpack what I brought? Just a few cans of soup and the like?”

“You didn’t have to-”

“Sure I did.” He cuts her off. “That’s my job. Take care of my best girl.” The blush is back, but this time, he doesn’t feel bad for provoking it.

“I can help you put those away-” As she speaks, she sits up and starts to climb out of bed.

“Or you can stay there and rest. Let me handle it.” She still doesn’t look convinced. “Then maybe we can just sit together and relax, watch a movie while you get a head start on those papers? What do you say?”

She sighs. “Are you sure? I’m not going to be much company, and this time of month can get kinda graphic.”

As if that’s even a question. “I’m sure.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

It hasn’t been an evening for the record books. The most exciting thing that’s happened is that she’s taken a hot shower with him still in her apartment (scandalous! He was a mere two rooms away, so he could’ve seen everything). Still it’s been nice. The canned soup tasted as you would expect canned soup to taste. They made brief small talk about each other’s days before starting up a movie on her laptop (Frozen, because it seems appropriate, given the temperature, plus if she has to deal with ‘Let it Go’ living in her mind rent-free for the rest of her life, then dammit, so does he), and settled in on her bed to watch. The last paper was graded a full hour ago, and currently, she’s resting with her head on his chest, both of them bundled in every blanket she owns.

The cramps are still bad, but his good arm is slung over her lower stomach, and the warm is helping somewhat. That, and with a few painkillers in her system, she’s feeling much better than earlier in the day. Better, and sleepy.

She tries to stay awake (she wants to be completely alert for every second that he’s with her), but between the warmth from their bodies pressed together under the covers, the pleasant background noise from the movie, the contentment of a full stomach, and the heaviness of exhaustion, before she realizes it, she’s asleep.

It’s only when she feels a feather-light touch to her cheek that she opens her eyes and becomes aware that she’s been dosing. His face is mere inches from her, hand caressing her face.

“Doll, you seem pretty tired. I think we should call it a night and let you get some rest.”

She knows better, but she’s just sleepy enough that her inhibitions lower, and she murmurs,

“Stay with me.”

Behind lowered lashes, she sees his face break into a small smile.

“Sure, sweetheart. I’ll stay if you want me to.”

It’s forward. They’ve never spent the night together (or, come to think of it, even been in her bed) before in any sense of the word, but as she drifts off once more, she can’t help but think that this just feels right.

#marvel #fanfiction #bucky barns x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x ofc #captain america #the winter soldier #fluff

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thebrownssociety · 3 years

Text

Across The Serververse, Chapter 7

Back on the spaceship a debate was brewing.

“-But all I’m saying is that it makes sense to get Sam!” Penelope said, for about the 5th time. “Then we know we’ve got everyone who was connected with the cartoon network universe!”

“But that’s completely illogical.” Marvin said, bluntly. “Sam, as we know, can take care of himself and is unlikely to cause great harm to himself or others. Sam is also in the ‘Wacky Racers’ universe, which is not unlike our own. Wile.E and Roady however are in the ‘Mad Max’ universe. That’s a completely different ballgame, so to speak, and we should retrieve them first so they can’t cause damage to other people, each other and themselves in that order.”

Bugs sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Why, WHY did he think this would be simple? Just go round the universes and get everyone back. A hard conversation may be needed here and there [he was anticipating one with Daffy, for instance] but on the whole he was certain the others would come back. After all, why wouldn’t they? The entire family was here after all, would they really want to be left behind?

Just as Tweety was yelling that actuawwy GRANNY would be a good idea as she was - and direct quote - ‘owd and fwail’ [which Bugs personally found hilarious as he’d seen frailer cement mixers] the decision was taken out of there hands.

“Stop!” Pepe yelled at the top of his lungs, seeing he now had everyone’s attention he said, calmly. “Why do we not see what planet we are closest to and retrieve the toons on there, yes? Make it simple, no?”

A thought flashed across Bugs’s mind that if they carried on down that route it meant Fudd would be last, but he shook the thought away like it was an irritating insect. Fudd would be fine, Bugs reasoned, he was more quick-witted and intelligent than people gave him credit for. He would be fine. Fine! Absolutely fine...

Marvin smiled [or at least the others assumed he was smiling. It was a bit hard to tell] and ‘full-speeded ahead’ to Mad Max Universe.

“Be careful!” Pepe yelled as Penelope crashed into him. “You are not on the racing track now, non?”

Marvin - somewhat uncharacteristically - ignored him and just landed the spaceship with a small ‘thud!’ “Well.” The Martian said, as he zeroed in on Wile.E’s and the Roadrunners trackers. “Here we are. The Mad Max universe. There was a pause before Marvin said, with faux brightness. “So, who’s going to volunteer to get our two brothers then?”

It soon transpired that it was Bugs himself who was going to ‘volunteer’ for this no doubt arduous task, what with the rabbit being the fastest amongst them.

“How do I get meself into dese situations?” Bugs wondered aloud, as he stood in the middle of a dust road looking for any sign of either the road runner or the coyote. Then he saw it. The familiar dust trail of the roadrunner which Bugs knew from previous experience meant he was about five-

-zoom!-

...make that two seconds away. And if the roadrunner was here, that meant the coyote wasn’t that far behind-

-zoom!-

Aaaaaannnnnnnnddddddddddd there he went! Bugs turned tail and ran after him.

Wile.E, Bugs could hardly fail to notice, looked like an advertisement for leather. Leather coat, leather gloves and a weird looking mask tied across his eyes, making him look like a robber. In one hand he wielded what looked like a extended litter-picker with the end significantly modified so it was [in theory] capable of catching roadrunners. The other hand was clutching the steering wheel of the motorbike he’d presumably ‘borrowed’ from somewhere.

Bugs ran flat out as he did his best to get level with the coyote, and it was a testament to his abilities and pig-headed determination that he actually managed it. “Wile.E!” Bugs called, loudly in order to ensure he was heard over the noise. “Wile E! It’s me Bugs!”

The coyote looked at him in startled surprise, taking his eyes of the road for literally about two seconds, but that two seconds was all the universe needed for Wile.E to fall flat on his face and go skidding into a rock, which caused a boulder to fall from above onto him, just for good measure.

Bugs winced and slowly sidled up to the rock where the coyotes arm was sticking out from under it. The rabbit waited for his younger brother to come crawling out from under it, probably glaring daggers, but nothing happened. After a few more seconds he got concerned and tried to move the boulder himself.

Back in Tune World this wouldn’t be a problem. As long as Bugs timed it at either a funny moment, or a moment that made sense within the narration, he’d have been able to do it. But, Bugs realised as he pushed, shoved and yelled curses at the rock, this wasn’t Toon World.

“Beap, beap!”

Bugs let out a shout of surprise and jumped about ten metres in the air, before landing with a thud. He sighed, got up and turned to see the road runner examining the rock critically. Seeing Bugs looking at him, Roadie held up a sign which said. ‘You get one side, I’ll get the other.’

Really, Bugs thought, this might be a good time to get Marvin’s disintegration ray, or maybe the other toons, but he didn’t really have time to argue so he just grabbed the other end of the rock [which was thankfully quite jagged, so easy enough to get a grip onto as opposed to the smooth round boulders that usually fell on Wile.E.] and together he and Roadie lifted the boulder of off the coyote and looked at the crushed noodle-like body beneath it.

Bugs stared silently, trying to digest what had just happened, while the roadrunner donned a black suit and tie and threw a random wreath at the coyote’s still body.

As soon as that wreath made contact with Wile.E’s stomach the coyote ‘rose from the dead’ ala Mushu style saying dramatically. “IIIIII LLLLLLIIIIIIIVVVVVVVEEEEEE!”

He was rewarded for this Oscar-worthy spot of acting by tomatoes being thrown at him by Roadie and Bugs. “Dat’s for quotin’ Disney!” Bugs told him sternly.

Wile.E shrugged. “Don’t blame me, inferior creature, I didn’t write the script.”

They glared at each other and then, going a 180, hugged and laughed joyously. “Oh!” Wile.E exclaimed, as he swung Bugs around. “I’m so glad you’re alive! I would like to say we never gave up hope, but I’m afraid that would be a lie as we’ve thought you were dead for the past few months now.”

Wile.E popped Bugs back on the ground and the rabbit wasted no time shaking himself to get all of the dust and rocks and like out his fur. “Oi’m gonna be hearin’ that for de next few chapters, ain’t I?” He reflected.

In response Wile.E simply pointed. Bugs followed the point and saw Roadie holding up a sign that said. ‘Well, the last time we saw you you were left alone with an angry psycho. So, you know, assumptions were made.”

Bugs grinned and flapped his arms. “Ah, never mind all dat! C’mon, Oi’ve managed to get some of the gang already, we’re all on Marvin’s spaceship! C’mon, follow me brothers!” And with that he dramatically turned heal and started in the direction of the spaceship. [Which wasn’t actually visible from where they were, Bugs having had to go on something of a hunt for his younger brothers.]

He got about ten steps in before realising he was Coyote-and-Roadrunner-less and turned back to see Wile.E standing in the middle of the dust track with his arms folded and his nose in the air, while Roadrunner looked confused and kept looking between the two like he was a spectator at a volleyball match.

Bugs approached his coyote brother carefully and asked. “Eh...what’s up, Wile.E?”

Wile.E scoffed and holding his nose up even higher [if that was possible] said; “I find it interesting, Mr Bunny, that you assume I shall just go with you?”

The rabbit frowned. confused by this question. “...Why wouldn’t ya?” He asked, eventually.

Wile.E scoffed again, as if to say ‘if you don’t know I’m not going to tell you’ and turned his back on the rabbit.

Bugs was now very confused and started pulling apart the conversation they’d just had in his mind to see if there was anything he’d said that would explain the coyote’s behaviour. About ten seconds into this thinking Bugs was gently pushed aside by Roadrunner who held up a sign that said: ‘Leave this to me.’

[Note from Author: The following conversation has been translated into English for ease of reading. Within the universe of the fic, on the other hand, the below conversation was said in roadrunner style beaps from both parties concerned. The author has also tried to keep Roadie’s rhyming style of speech. Whether she’s succeeded or not is a different matter.]

Roadrunner stepped closer to his brother and said, in a kindly tone.

“Wile.E, my brother,

From one twin to another

Would you be so kind?

Tell me what is on your mind?”

Wile.E took a moment to think about exactly what was bothering him, before saying in a measured manner. “I’m thinking Roadie that...I’m old.”

Roadie’s eyes went wide and Wile.E hurriedly clarified. “Oh, I know what you’re going to say, I’m in my early 70′s, early 70′s is no longer considered ‘old’. Except, factually, it is. Even if you take into consideration the fact that I’m a toon and therefore immortal, I just can’t help wondering...how much longer can I do this?”

His brother looked at him in a manner that suggested he was unsure of what he meant. Clicking his tongue impatiently Wile.E snapped. “For Newton’s sake, do I have to spell it out!? How much longer can I keep throwing myself off of cliffs and under boulders and the like without damage? Even with gadgets like these...” Here he looked down at the custom-made grabber and chuckled. “...Not that we’ve got anything like this back on Tune Town. I mean, look at this!” Here he went into a half-mad description of what exactly the grabber was made of, what it could do and why exactly it was the best thing since sliced bread. Roadrunner waited patiently the whole time this lecture went on, nodding at what he felt were appropriate intervals until, finally, Wile.E finished with: “But what’s the use? I’ll never be able to invent another one.”

Roadrunner frowned and said, rapidly. “But Wile.E, why ever not?

Seeing as you’re a total swot*

Would it not be so very easy,

to build something just as great?

From an engineers point of view,

it should be easy to recreate

And with me by your side

You’ll be sure to hit your stride.” At the end of his little rhyme, Roadie smiled brightly at his twin and waited for the verdict.

“Because, my fraternal twin brother, I made THIS one via the materials on this planet and seeing as when I step on Marvin’s ship I’m presumably not coming back here then that means I’m somewhat sunk, aren't I? More than usual, I mean.” Wile.E looked at the grabber and lovingly stroked it.

While he was doing that Roadie thought. Truth be told he had heard this more than a few times before. Wile.E periodically went through periods where he thought he was reaching the end of his genius, but he usually pulled through. This time he sounded different though. More wistful and melancholy. It concerned Roadie, but he was unsure of what to say and went quiet for a bit trying to think of the right words.

While he was doing that Wile.E’s ginormous brain was ticking, slotting the pieces together as he looked down at the grabber. Really, now he was actually thinking about it instead of running on emotion, the materials the grabber was made with weren't that different to similar materials that could be found on Tune Town. Melt an anvil down, for instance, and simply reshape it...

Wile.E smiled. Oh yes, that would work alright. He was an idiot to have not thought of it before!

Roadrunner saw the familiar smile and, immediately perking up, said rapidly to Bugs. “I think you will be happy to know, we are finally ready to go.”

Bugs made a celebrationary air-grab and grabbing his brothers by the arm and wing respectably pulled them in the direction of the spaceship. Luckily Roadrunners brain was ahead of Bugs’s on this occasional and he had also see where the spaceship was earlier on in the chapter when he’d speeded ahead; so, with his usual catchphrase, he ran under Bugs so the rabbit was forced to cling to him and sped of at about 1000 miles an hour, not wanting to waste any time.

Behind them Wile.E smiled wickedly and activated the grabber which enabled him to swing between boulders [how he managed not to crush himself the author only knows] essentially becoming the coyote version of Tarzan and together they speeded towards the ship

#Across The Serververse #Bugs Bunny #Marvin The Martian #Wile.E.Coyote #Roadrunner #Looney Tunes #Pepe Le Pew #penelope pussycat #roadrunners rhyming is literally the hardest thing to write #Wile.E and Roadie are twins though #Space Jam 2 Fanfiction

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bqstqnbruin · 3 years

Text

I hate the way you’re always right

Hey y’all, here’s the next part! Sorry it’s been a hot minute, but I hope you like this! Here’s a little bit of soft smut again ??? idk who knows.

As always, this is unedited and probably riddled with types so point em out, leave em be, I’ll probably edit this tomorrow once I’m out of class knowing me but hey, somethings never change.

_________

“You don’t know what I mean.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

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

“On a scale of one to ten, how nervous are you?” Evelina asks, throwing herself down on your bed. The sound of the springs of your mattress makes you jump, no thanks to the nerves you didn’t want to be experiencing.

You had been pacing your room for at least an hour, trying to figure out what to wear, how to do your hair and makeup, thinking about what was going to happen tonight. None of you should be nervous about going out with Matthew: the two of you go out together just the two of you all the time. You’re almost always with him when he’s in Calgary, give or take Evelina or Elias. So what about tonight was different?

Well, for starters, the last few times you’ve spent time alone together you were doing more than just hanging out. Why did you have to kiss him, or sleep with him, or fuck, even like him?

“I’ll give myself a two,” you lie to her, walking to your closet to find shoes.

She sits up, her eyebrows raised. “Babe, you’ve been walking the runway for the last hour. Gigi Hadid doesn’t strut this much but at least she gets paid for it.”

‘Fuck her for being right,’ you think to yourself. “How’s a seven sound?” You hear her scoff, before finally sitting down next to her. “Why am I nervous?” you whine.

She shrugs, shaking her head. “Because it’s Matthew.

“It’s not like Matthew’s changed, though.”

“No, but you and Matthew have. You at least finally realized you like each other, and that messes with things.”

You look down at your hands, covered with pen ink from work that day that was seemingly impossible to get off with any type of soap you had in the apartment. “What if this ruins everything?” you ask quietly, starting to feel overly emotional at the thought of losing him.

“If you do you still have me,” she jokes, clearly not helping. “Come on. It’s Matthew. You’ve always meant the world to him. There is nothing you can do that would cause you to lose him.”

“I hope you’re right,” you say, not looking at her.

She pulls you up off the bed, twirling you around so she can get a full look at the dress you were in. It was one of hers, an open-backed red halter dress that came just above your knees, paired with nude heels. Simple, but elegant enough that Matthew would spend the entire night thinking about how good you look with it both on and off. “You look amazing. What time is he picking you up?”

“He should be here any minute,” you tell her, feeling yourself start to shake at how nervous you were for this. Evelina was probably right: it’s Matthew, it’s always been Matthew, and what could possibly happen that would mean you could lose him?

The two of you leave your room, grabbing your bag and your phone on your way out. You can hear the locks of the front door turning, sending a chill down your spine knowing that it was Matthew on the other side.

“You’ll be fine,” Evelina whispers quickly as Matthew opens the door to let him in.

Assuming you were still in your room, he starts to call, “Hey, I’m-” he cuts himself off when he lays his eyes on you. He swallows hard at the sight of you trying to find anything to say other than the “Wow,” he lets out.

Seeing him calmed you down immediately. He had on a black button-down with black pants. It was simple, just like yours, but fuck did he look good. “Wow, yourself,” you tell him, pulling a laugh from his lips.

He goes in to kiss you, suddenly becoming very aware that Evelina was right behind you, bouncing up and down like a child. “Ev? We’re good,” he says, hoping that it would give her the signal to leave them alone.

“Have her home by nine, young man,” Evelina points at him, slowly backing away but refusing to break eye contact.

“Nine a.m., got it!” he says, taking you by the hand and leading you as Evelina changes course and starts to follow you.

“Wear a condom!” she yells down the hall, you and Matthew practically running away from her.

You stop in your tracks, gasping even if you were only kind of shocked that she would actually say that. “Ev!”

“Love you!” she practically screams, slamming the door as the elevator opens.

“I can’t believe she just yelled ‘wear a condom’ down the hall! The guys next door must have loved that. Mrs. Rose is probably throwing up at the thought of premarital sex,” you start to ramble as the doors close on you and Matthew, your hands on your cheeks pulling your eyes open a little more.

He laughs, pulling you close to him, his warm hands against your back, you draping your arms on his shoulders. “You can’t be that shocked she would say that.” He dips his head down to kiss you, finally saying hello the way he wanted to, his forehead pressed against yours as a lazy smile covers his face, “Hi, Mercury.”

“Hi,” you whisper, wishing you had something like that to call him. Something that meant he drove you as crazy as you apparently drove him. “And no, I’m not shocked. But I guarantee that you’re going to have to wear one tonight,” you tease him.

“If that’s what you want,” he whispers, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

Of course, that was what you wanted. He pulls away when the elevator door opens, leading you to his car. He doesn’t drop your hand until he opens the passenger side door for you. “What a gentleman,” you gush at him, half teasing him, half swooning over the simple action.

“Only for you,” he says, connecting with your lips as you try to sit down. Apparently, he couldn’t stop kissing you either. Not that you were complaining about it. You drive through the city in silence, his hand on your thigh while he drove, your hand placed over his. You stole glances at him every once in a while, the moonlight and streetlights dancing off his jawline, his eyes shining whenever light hit them. God, he looked so good. You didn’t see the glances he took at you, your enjoyment as you watched the city alive around you, watching people walk hand in hand down the street, laughing, smiling, enjoying life.

You get to the restaurant, him rushing over to help you out of the car before you even have the chance to try to get out yourself. This was so different from the Matthew you knew a few weeks ago.

The two of you are seated at a table in the corner, able to look at everyone around you. You sit in silence, but it’s not weird like you thought it would be. You look up from your menu to see Matthew staring at you smiling. “What?” you ask him as he reaches across the table for your hand. Why didn’t this feel weird? What about this made it feel so, you don’t know, so right?

“I’m just,” he starts, debating on whether or not he should say what he wants, “I’m just happy,” he settles on, not taking his eyes off you as a smile shows on your face, heat rushing to your cheeks.

“Who woulda thought you’d be soft for a girl, Rat Man?” you tease him.

He runs his tongue across his upper lip, sucking in a deep breath before letting out, “Only for you, Y/N.”

The two of you settle into mundane conversation after the waitress comes and takes your drink orders, the same sexual teasing ones that you would have with him before this whole thing started.

“Oh, come on, you’ve always found me hot. Don’t act like you never thought about what it would be like if I pinned you against the wall every time you saw me,” he teases you.

“I think you were at your most attractive when you were far away from me.”

“So, even when I wasn’t around you still couldn’t get me out of your mind.”

You roll your eyes, hating that he was right. You thought about this boy a lot more than you would like to admit. “I can only think about how much I hate about you,” you say without thinking, biting the inside of your cheek.

You swear he swallows hard, taking a moment to compose himself. He hated the thought of you still writing out that list. He needed to ask Evelina how far into you were given that you had two more weeks to finish it. But he was already taking you out on a date, so is the list even worth it? Before he can send himself into a downward spiral, he says, “And yet, you’re still sitting across from me on a date.”

He watches you look down at the table, trying to hide the smile you couldn’t help but flash. “You got me there.”

The waitress returns with your food, both of you falling silent as you ate. Matthew couldn’t help but study your every movement, from how delicately your hands wrapped around your utensils. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the ink covering you, on your pinky from the way you drag your hand across the page, the random dots and streaks of ink on your nails and everywhere, probably from the way you twirled it in your fingers, knowing that you drop your pen more often than you’re able to keep in your hands the way you fidget with it. He was amazed by how he could watch you for this long without you even realizing it, so wrapped up in the scene around you while you watched with amazement. He couldn’t believe that this was finally happening, that he was there with you.

The people around you were laughing, talking, enjoying the company of the person across from them. It felt so weird to be one of those people who could do that. You never thought you would find yourself in a situation where the person across from you would be Matthew. “Oh, I know what I wanted to tell you!” you say, breaking the silence between you, “Ev and I are going to be in LA the weekend you’re playing the Kings for a conference.”

“So you being out with me is just a ploy to get free tickets?” he smirks. He was going to get you the tickets, even if you didn’t want them.

“I mean, what else are you good for?” you ask as he takes your hand in his, putting it to his lips.

You go back to eating, both of you with one hand available. You try not to go crazy when he rubs his thumb along your knuckles, tracing a circle around each one before moving to the next, back and forth across your hand. You’re interrupted in your fixation on his touch by a woman screaming with joy, the man across from her down on one knee proposing. You can’t help but smile at the happiness she was radiating, Matthew watching you instead, not realizing you were picturing yourself being proposed to at that moment. You couldn’t make out the face of the man on one knee in front of you in your mind, but something about the wild hair gave you a good idea of who it was.

Why the hell were you even thinking about that? You didn’t even think you loved this boy, let alone picturing marrying him?

The two of you start clapping along with everyone else when she says yes, a forced smile covering your face as you try to calm yourself from the internal freakout that was manifesting. You look across the table to Matthew, his eyes wider than normal, his lips in a thin line.

Before you can ask him what’s wrong, Matthew cuts in, “I can’t believe he just did that.”

“What?” you ask him, slightly shocked.

“Uh, I mean,” he starts, not sure where he was going. He could feel his face getting hot. That’s not how he would have proposed to you. ‘Wait a minute,’ he thinks to himself, ‘proposing to Y/N?’ When did he even start thinking about something like that? He could feel his breath get shorter, trying to figure out what to say. You see him getting restless, reaching over to take his hand in yours, whatever panic that was forming in him instantly going away. “It’s just weird to do it in a restaurant, you know? Surrounded by a bunch of strangers instead of the people you love.”

You don’t know why, but your entire body tensed up at that word. Matthew keeps talking, but you don’t hear him. You look over to the couple, smiling over their news. She was crying, unable to stop herself from admiring the ring and the man she just committed her entire life to. You weren’t sure how long you had been staring, only snapping out of the trance you fixed yourself in when you felt Matthew pulling you up from the table.

“Are you alright?” he asks you, leading you back to his car. Something in his voice had changed, the soft, sweet tone from earlier not entirely gone, but some of it was missing.

“Yeah,” you lie to him, “I think the food is just starting to bother my stomach.”

“Oh, uh,” he says, dropping your hand once you get to the car, his hand lingering on the handle of the passenger side door. “I guess I’ll drop you back at your place then?” he asks, running his free hand through his hair.

You recoiled slightly at his words, not wanting to go home, but there you were. “Yeah, sure,” you say, ducking into the seat.

The two of you ride in silence, this time uncomfortable in complete contrast to driving there. He pulls up to your building, neither of you moving from your seats. What the hell happened? Did the idea of marrying him freak you out so much that you ruined your date with him? “So, uh,” he starts, “I’ll see ya?” he asks.

You don’t pull your gaze away from your hands in your lap, biting the inside of your cheek as you nod. This was supposed to be a great night for you two. Why did that guy have to propose? It was really all his fault when you think about it. You feel Matthew’s hand grazing your jaw, his thumb tracing your cheekbone before pulling you close to him for his lips to connect with yours. You pull away, your foreheads pressed against each other, an awkward smile covering both your faces. Without another word, you get out of his car to go up to your place.

He watches you walk away, letting out a groan. “Fucking hell,” he mutters to himself, pulling away once you get in the door.

-----------

“So it was bad?” Evelina asks, lying down on your bed next to you. You finally opened up to her about the disastrous date last night, from your freak out to ending with Matthew dropping you off at home instead of spending the night together.

You let out a heavy sigh, your phone vibrating with texts from your boss about preparing for the conference. “Fuck, is he bothering you this much about this presentation?” you change the subject quickly.

“Nope. Not a word from him since he said we were going. That’s not important right now.”

You let out another groan, not sure really what other noise to make. Words couldn’t describe how frustrated you were by the night you thought was going to be great. “It wasn’t,” you cut yourself off, tossing your phone aside and covering your face with your hands. “It wasn’t bad, it just wasn’t what I wanted it to be.”

She turns over on her side, propping herself up on her elbow to look at you. “And you haven’t heard from him since last night?” Through your fingers you can see the expression she has on her face, scrunched up almost as if she was pitying you.

Your phone buzzes, both of you lurching to see if it were him. Instead, it was your boss again. “Fuck this,” you say, throwing the phone on the floor. “I want it to be Matthew. It’s not like him not to text me all day.”

“He left this morning for Winnipeg where they went right to practice and then to their game,” she tells you, relaying the message Elias probably gave her at some point. It still didn’t make you feel better. The game was over by now and you didn’t even know how it went. You thought he would have at least texted you, sent you a picture without context, something so you would know he didn’t hate you after last night.

“He’ll text you. They’re probably still getting changed from the game,” Evelina tries to reassure you. “Do you want me to stay here or do you want to be alone?”

You think about it, not sure how much good her company would do at this point. “I’m fine alone,” you decide, pulling out your laptop to find something to watch. She leaves you alone, your phone buzzing constantly with texts. After an episode of Gossip Girl, you finally check your phone to see a string of texts, all but one from your boss.

You let out a sigh of relief when you see Matthew’s message buried amongst those from your boss.

‘I’ve missed you, pretty girl. What are you up to?’

You could your heart racing for whatever reason as you tried to figure out what to respond with, your boss's name coming up again and again wondering why you weren’t answering him. ‘Moping, why?’

‘What’s wrong Mercury’

‘Work is a bitch’

You see the three dots appear and disappear from your screen. You stare at your phone, wondering why he wasn’t answering you when an incoming Facetime call shows up from him. Answering faster than you should, you felt relieved to finally see his face even if you had seen him the night before. “What happened to your cheek?” you ask immediately, referencing the noticeable gash that covered the right side of his face.

“I got the butt end of Johnny’s high stick at practice today,” he says, moving through what you assumed was his hotel.

“He probably did it on purpose, right?” you ask, a smirk on your face. You can hear his laugh echo through the hallway, the click of his door unlocking as he threw himself on his bed. “What were you doing?”

“The guys and I were down at the bar in the lobby.”

“Oh, did you guys win today?”

He stares at you for a second, a brief moment in which you can’t read him. “You only pay attention to me when it’s convenient for you, don’t you?” he teases you, a smile growing on his face with every word.

You let out a laugh, the memory of last night fading away. “My boss has been texting me nonstop about the work I’ve already gotten done, so I’m trying not to look at my phone.” You shift your attention away from your camera, knowing, not looking at Matthew for what you were about to say. “You know I always pay attention to you, Matthew,” you let out quietly, looking off to the side.

He smiles at your words, letting out a sigh of relief. This list had to be over. There was no way you could still be writing it. “We did win. Shut them out. We were downstairs celebrating before we hit the road in the morning.”

“Why aren’t you still with them! Go be with the guys!” you insist.

Matthew scoffs, shaking his head. “Nah, something was wrong with you. I had to make sure you were alright.”

“You left the guys for me?”

“I would leave anyone if it means making sure you’re ok.” You melt at his words, never thinking that he would be able to say something that would make you feel how you did. You missed him. You wished he was there with you. Before you can say anything, he starts, “I know how I can make you happy: tell me something. That always works.”

That always makes him happy.

“How about Dante’s circles of Hell so we can figure out which one my boss belongs in?” you joke, pausing the call briefly to finally respond to your boss to say that everything he had already texted you about asking you to do was finished and in his email.

“I know about them but I like hearing you talk,” he says, a smile on his face. His end goes completely silent, no background noise, nothing, as if he had muted you.

You try to recall the nine circles, starting to ramble in hopes it would jog your memory. “Dante Alighieri wrote the Italian poem between the years 1308 and 1320, the year before his death. It’s considered the first work written in the Italian vernacular, the Tuscan dialect, thus leading scholars to believe that this work is the reason why ‘formal Italian’ is Tuscan. He wrote it three parts, 100 cantos total, each canto with 33 lines: Inferno, Purgatorio, and Paradiso.”

You finally hear him again, his chest moving up and down rapidly, the camera shaking in his hand. “It’s so sexy when you speak in another language. Tell me about Hell,” he lets out, clearly out of breath from what you couldn’t see going on beyond the camera.

You start, your mind suddenly flashing back to that day at the package store, roaming through the aisles of alcohol with his hands leaving a burning touch on your body. “The first circle is Limbo. It’s where the unbaptized and virtuous pagans go. It’s like having a tv and only getting a channel like C-SPAN on every station,” you tell him, waiting for his response. His mouth is open slightly, no sound coming from him. You close your eyes, thinking of his hand in your back pocket that day, the way his fingers tensed on your ass.

You swallow hard, your breath getting slightly shallow as you continue. “The second circle is,” you stop, knowing that you would be right in this circle as you extended your free hand down. You knew exactly what he was doing the same thing, his eyes closing every now and then, the camera shaking as you thought about his body against yours the night after the charity event. “Is lust. Anyone controlled by their hormones.”

His eyes snap open, his voice shaking as you finally hear him again: “I guess we’ll go to the second circle together?” You bite your lip, nodding at him. “Third circle,” he demands, going back to his work as he thought you in the black dress, fitting your form perfectly, every thread, every stitch, waiting to be ripped off you.

“Gluttony: habitual greed or excessive eating, especially at the expense of others,” you tell him. You think about that dry-fit shirt he wore, every muscle he had accented in the fabric as your other hand moved faster. His camera was shaking, his chest moving up and down rapidly. Part of you was surprised he hadn’t gotten there yet. “Circle four is greed: hoarding money, and goods.”

“Five,” he chokes out, a moan following that he cut off by muting himself.

“Five was,” you say, gasping, “Five was anger, spending their time in hell waging war against each other.” Your eyes screw shut, hoping you could get through four more. “Unmute yourself,” you demand of Matthew.

His eyes practically pop out of his head. “Unmute yourself,” you tell him again, slowly, each syllable emphasized as he watched your eyes get ever so slightly darker. He nods, doing as you ask, now able to hear his heavy breathing. “Six was heresy,” you let out, low and slow.

Matthew gasps, getting up a little as a signal that he was finished, despite you having more circles to go through. “Don’t move yet,” you say to him, not wanting him to until you could. “Those in that circle believe in religions other than Dante’s: Christianity. Seven is violence, divided further into three levels: murderers, suicide victims, and blasphemers.” You can practically feel the memory of his lips as they would have been connecting with your body, right behind your ear.

“Tell me circle eight, pretty girl,” Matthew whispers, a lazy smile on his face as you get close to your climax. The sight of him your first night together, every inch of him as he entered you for that perfect night.

“Eight is,” you try to get out. You stop, feeling nothing and everything going through your body as you practically scream out, “Fraud.” You look at him, trying to steady your breath even though he could see your chest rising and falling as rapidly as his was before, a smile covering his face. “Nine is treachery. A frozen wasteland where those doomed to that final circle spend eternity with Satan himself.

You both sit there in silence, catching your breath. You see Matthew finally able to adjust himself, a small laugh escaping his lips at the mess that was over the once pristine sheets. He smirks, happy that you could hear each other for the last bit, neither of you guessing you were thinking of the other the entire time. “I told you I could make you happy, huh?”

You take in a deep breath, trying to stabilize yourself, getting up to change quickly. “I would be happier if I didn’t have to do it myself,” you tease him.

“Trust me: I would do anything to be there with you right now.”

You smile at him, letting out a yawn. “I’m gonna go to bed, babe,” you say, slightly recoiling at the idea of calling him babe. “Talk to you tomorrow?”

He nods. “I-” you start to hear him say, accidentally cutting him off by hanging up just too soon. He couldn’t have been saying much, but you send him a text saying sorry for it. “Love you,” he breathes out, wishing you heard him finally say how he felt about you.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagines #calgary flames #calgary flames imagines #flames #flames imagines #ratty matty #nhl #nhl imagines #hockey #hockey imagines

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damienthepious · 3 years

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uhhhhhhhh TUESDAY. i’m gettin’ OLD SCHOOL.

The Rite Of Movement (Chapter 5)

[ch 1] [ch 2] [ch 3] [ch 4] [ao3]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Lord Arum, Sir Damien, Rilla, The Keep, Original Monster Character(s), Sir Marc, Sir Talfryn, Sir Angelo, Quanyii, Sir Caroline, Original Human Character(s)

Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Engagement, Domestic, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Poetry, Presents, (this is the MOST self indulgent tooth rotting fluff I've ever ever EVER done please enjoy), (i love my ridiculous scalie/scaley trio), Monster Customs, Dancing, Second Citadel, Post-Season/Series 02

Fic Summary: Arum has a surprising revelation about his own feelings, and then decides to take matters into his own claws since his humans don’t seem to realize what they are denying themselves.

Chapter Summary: Continuations of two conversations.

Chapter Notes: Don't.... pay attention to how long this fic has been left hanging. Also don't..... hold me to regular updates for this in the future either, lmao i've proven myself unreliable in that context XD i swear i'm doing my best! this one is very freeform tho and sans plot i have trouble kicking things along. ALSO, EDIT, @shorter-than-her-tbr-pile inspired the second half of this chapter pretty directly!!! and i love them dearly with my whole heart!!!! aaaaaaa<3<3<3

“They cannot stay here,” Arum says, managing to both snarl and speak under his breath at the same time. It’s- a little impressive, actually. Rilla watches him pace a tight circle at just enough of a distance from the portal that Puck and Tetch probably can’t make out his words. “They cannot. I do not run some sort of- of halfway home for wayward miscreants, be they human or monster or- or anything else.” He pauses, then scowls darker and gestures with a hand, claws slicing the air. “And yet, they cannot leave because they have seen you and if anyone were to bring our- our- to bring us as we are to the attention of the Senate or the humans, all of our lives would be- and with the wedd-” he cuts off, shooting a suspicious look towards the portal again, where Puck appears to be examining the vines that make up the frame the magic fills.

“I am going to have to kill them,” Arum says flatly, eyes narrowing and hands clenching, and Rilla can’t help it anymore. She bursts out laughing.

“Arum- Arum we’re not going to kill them. What are you even- seriously, pay attention, here. Who would they possibly tell?” She smiles, just a little exasperation creeping into her tone. “Look at them, Arum. Look at them and tell me what these two would gain from talking to the Senate or the Citadel.”

Arum looks at Rilla, instead, for a long moment, his jaw clenched tight, and then he sighs, flicking his eyes to the mismatched pair.

Puck runs their hands along the vines of the portal, their face bright with a delighted sort of curiosity. Tetch is behind them, still out in the swamp. Within reach, tense as if anticipating a blow, anticipating the need to defend, but mostly just- watching. Watching Puck, with her head tilted just slightly to the side, her fuzzy antennae twitching.

He presses his lips together, then looks to Amaryllis again. “What does it matter,” he mutters, his tone a little stilted, “if they happen to- if they are-”

“Like us?” Rilla suggests gently.

“They are not-” Arum snaps his jaw shut again, growling low, because-

“You know that they are,” Rilla says. “I mean, I figured we couldn’t be the only ones, but- if I’m being honest I didn’t really expect that we would ever meet another-” she shakes her head. “Not the point right now. Arum, I’m not saying we should let them move in or something, but- it’s not like the swamp is tiny. If all they’re looking for is a place where they can be safe for a little while… it’s not like that would be a difficult thing to help with, would it?”

“Amaryllis-”

“They can’t tell anyone about us because anyone they would tell would hate the pair of them just the same,” Rilla says. “Honestly-” she pauses. “Honestly, Arum, aren’t you even a little bit curious? Or… or even a little bit tempted by the opportunity to talk to someone who’s gone through something like what we have?”

“No,” Arum grumbles, looking away, but Rilla steps closer and lifts a hand. He flicks his eyes to the strangers when she cups his cheek, suspicious of the scrutiny, but they don’t seem to be paying attention, so he only rumbles low in his chest and meets her eyes again. “I care about you,” he mutters. “I care about Damien. They have nothing to do with me, or us. The pair of you and my Keep are my only priorities, Amaryllis.”

Her thumb brushes soft over his cheek, and her smile goes a little more gentle. “I know,” she says, “but helping them too doesn’t take away from that. You’re allowed to do unselfish things, you know. No one here is going to make fun of you for being kind. Honestly, if you just pointed them towards a patch of swamp without any traps that they could camp in for a day or two, they’d probably be grateful enough, but- but I really think we could help more than that, don’t you?”

Arum grumbles, still standing stiffly to keep himself from gathering her close as he truly wishes to. He cannot embrace her, not while they might see, because-

The moth (Tetch, his mind supplies unhelpfully) stands close behind the human as they examine the portal, close enough to wrap a gentle wing around their shoulder like a cape, and even at this distance Arum can see the easy way that Puck leans back into that contact, the light smile that curls their lips.

He pulls his eyes away, and realizes that Amaryllis is still looking up at him, is still waiting for him to answer.

“We… could help. Theoretically.”

Rilla’s own lip curls, then, into an indulgent smirk. “Theoretically,” she echoes.

“There are…” he hesitates, eyes flicking around the room and not settling on any one thing in particular. “A number of outposts in the swamp, of course, similar to the one…”

Rilla’s smirk breaks into something softer when he hesitates again. “Like the one you brought me and Damien to, after… after Fort Terminus? Where we went to talk?”

“Y-yes,” he says. “Smaller places. Technically Keep-grown but not within its direct consciousness, without effort at the very least. Most are… hidden. Indistinguishable from the surrounding flora. Places no one would look, even if they somehow managed to penetrate the outer defenses of my swamp unseen in the first place.” He pauses, and Rilla doesn’t interrupt. She can tell he’s not quite finished, and she doesn’t wanna scare him off of this particular thought. “It… it would not be difficult, of course, to- to allow… rather… I suppose, if all they require is… is a place to exist for a short while…"

Arum pauses again, and again Rilla waits, lifting her other hand so she can cup his face. He glances towards the other pair again, and this time one of them is returning his gaze.

Or- he thought, for a moment, that they were. Puck's expression is even, curious, vaguely fond as they look at Amaryllis, something like recognition in their eyes. They do glance towards Arum, then, only the barest sliver of hope shining through them as they lean back into Tetch's wings with a very, very small smile. They drop his eyes, turning to laugh at something Tetch says in their ear, then, and Arum blinks back to himself.

Rilla waits, and Arum is grateful for her patience in a way he is never quite sure how to voice. He is grateful for every ounce of her being, though, and the small part of that gratefulness devoted to her patience is easy to lose among the whole. Arum sighs, resting his face in the safety of her palms, and then he curls his mouth into a wry sort of smile and lifts his own arms. He has wanted to hold her since he saw her in the doorway, despite his concerns.

Let them see.

Why should he be concerned? He is her betrothed now, after all, and that certainty pools warm at his center as he gathers her in his arms and tugs her against his chest. She breathes a light laugh against him, surprise and delight, one of his favorite noises in the whole of the Universe.

"… until the patch on her wing sets properly," Arum says, very quietly. "I- we will provide a place for them until then. It was my trap that damaged her- her own fault, of course, for- for trespassing, but- nonetheless, my handiwork. It seems … appropriate, to provide some… to provide some small degree of shelter. Until then."

Rilla leans back enough to look up at him, her eyes dark and warm and fond, and then she leans up to kiss him, just gently on the cheek.

"Okay," she says simply, still smiling, and then she reaches and takes two of his hands in her own, slipping her fingers between his, gently playing his digits between her own. "That sounds reasonable. C'mon, let's go let them know, yeah?"

“Angelo-”

“Almost there, Sir Damien! Patience for a few moments more, and all shall be revealed."

"I trust you with my life, Sir Angelo, but-" Damien ducks his head, weaving slightly to avoid thunking his head off of a stalactite. Ahead of him, Angelo moves with a deftness of foot that really should not surprise Sir Damien at this point. Sir Angelo the Strong was once simply Angelo of Quarry, after all, and he knows rocks and caverns as Sir Damien knows syllables and rhyme. "But- but we are rather deep, I think, and-"

"Oh, hardly! Why, Sir Damien, I've been in caverns a full three times deeper than this little hole, darker and with far more interesting formations of rock! We are not here for my interest today, though, my friend." Angelo grins wide over his shoulder, the light from the torch in his hand dancing orange and gold over the both of them.

"And… why are we here, exactly?" Damien tries, not for the first time, and an expression of near-comical mischief slides across Angelo's face.

"Soon!" he says by way of an answer, and then he presses his free hand over his wide grin, muffling a laugh. "Very soon, Sir Damien. Just a little further!"

"But you said that same thing," Damien pants, "ten minutes ago, I'm certain it must have been, and I would like to return to my-" he lowers his voice, despite the impossibility of being overheard in this moment, "my fiances before it is too terribly late in the evening, certainly you must understand-"

The narrow cave opens out, revealing a yawning space, an enormous wide bowl of a cavern with a cool, utterly still pool of water submerging the floor of the far half, the ceiling completely covered in wavering forms of stalactites stretching down from every corner. In the low light of the torch the water looks like glass, and the cones on the ceiling gleam with subtle moisture, and the noise of their footsteps resounds softly through the space.

"Angelo," Damien murmurs, "this place is… where are we?"

"I used to come here often when I was young," Sir Angelo says, fond and wistful, placing a hand on the uneven stone of the wall as he carefully arranges the torch to stand on its own in a crack between a pair of rocks. "I am rather boisterous even by my own family's standards, and this was one of very few places I could come where I would not prompt any number of complaints about my- well, my volume."

"Oh," Damien says gently. "Oh, Sir Angelo-"

Angelo turns, grinning wide and delighted, and he grips Damien's shoulders. "Which is why I knew it would be perfect for you, Sir Damien!"

"Er- come again?"

"You must speak your heart, Sir Damien," Angelo says, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world, and Damien-

Damien could laugh. He's said those words often enough, he supposes. It is the most obvious thing in the world.

"You are not meant to hide your love in whispers, Sir Damien. You are not meant to keep yourself so quiet, and I thought- I thought, perhaps, that you could use this place as I once did. You may speak as loudly as you wish, here, and you need not fear being overheard by anyone at all. If no one ever heard me, they will certainly not be able to hear you, Damien. Not even if you shout."

Damien blinks up at him, feeling his heart rise in his throat, and Angelo only grins a little wider, squeezing his shoulders.

"I thought, perhaps, that you might wish to shout, to make up for all those whispers."

"Angelo," Damien says, his voice wavering as he lifts his hands to grip Angelo's wrists.

Angelo's eyes sparkle with delight, and he squeezes Damien's shoulders once more before he releases them, stepping aside and patting him on the back instead.

"Now, Sir Damien," he says, his voice conspicuous and loud and his expression exaggeratedly sly, "I believe that you had news to share with me, did you not?"

"I-" Damien inhales, breathes a watery laugh, looks around at this wide, empty, private place that his best rival chose to share with him. "I- Sir Angelo, I already-"

"Come now, Damien, don't be shy! What did you wish to tell me?"

Damien presses a hand over his mouth against his own smile, pressing back against the laughter that he is certain will dissolve into tears. Angelo continues to grin, and he waves his hands in the air, encouraging and nearly giddy, stoking Damien's smile even wider.

Damien inhales, then exhales to try to soothe his overwhelmed, thrumming heart.

"I… I am going to be married," he says, and the cavern bounces his voice back to him in a subtle, soft wave. "Arum- Arum asked us to marry him. He- he wants to," Damien says, the surprise of it still coloring his tone, his voice beginning to raise as the enthusiasm wakes, shivering off his fear. "He wants us, he does, he wants us as much as we want him- he wants us to be married, Angelo, he's going to-"

Damien laughs, wild, reckless.

"I love them so, so much, Angelo, I love them with all of my heart, and they- I want to marry them, I want to be with them for the rest of my life, and they want it just the same! They want to marry me! Me, Angelo, oh Saints above, I-"

He pauses, pressing his hand over his heart, and Angelo waits, patient, his hand pressing as a gentle anchor on Damien's shoulderblade.

"I so rarely feel that I know what I am doing, Angelo. I am- so frightened. I am always so frightened, of dangers real and imagined, of failure, but- but with them I feel safe. Always. Even when they bicker, even when Rilla is exhausted and short-tempered, even when Arum and I cannot see eye-to-eye on a matter, even when I fall into the mire of my own mind, I still and forever feel safe with them, and I know- I know, beneath the terrified churning of my mind, I know in my heart that I am loved. I know that I am held beloved by them, and now I know- I know they wish to stand with me in marriage, they wish for us to pledge ourselves to our union. I am- I am held beloved by the most incredible woman I have ever met, and a regal, stubborn, glorious monster. A monster."

"A monster," Angelo echoes, steady and soft.

"I am…" Damien exhales slowly, then lifts his chin, and his next words are not a shout, but they are firm and confident and so, so proud. "I love a monster. I am loved by one in turn. My beloved flower Rilla loves and is loved by a monster just the same. I love Amaryllis, and I love Lord Arum, and I intend to love them both forever. For as long as they want me. I love them, and they love me, they do, and I- I am going to be their husband."

Angelo's eyes go bright, and his grin approaches the quality of a bonfire, and he throws his arms around Sir Damien's shoulders in a crushing hug.

"Congratulations, my friend!" he booms, his voice loud enough to rattle the space, sending droplets down from the stalactites to ripple the surface of the water. "Congratulations! I am so, so happy for you, Sir Damien. I will be so proud to witness so joyous an event!"

Damien-

His tears are as joyful as the congratulations, and Damien cannot help them in the least. He returns the fierce hug, sniffling against Angelo's shoulder as his eyes well.

"What- what did I ever do, Sir Angelo," he keens, his voice wavering hard, his throat aching, "to deserve this? To deserve to be the husband to such beautiful, radiant, loving, clever beings? What did I do? How could I ever be worthy of-"

Angelo tightens the hug, holding his best friend, best rival steady in his arms. "You loved them, Sir Damien," he says, "as much as they loved you. You loved each other, and you chose each other as your family. That is what you did."

Damien sniffles hard, burying his face in Angelo's shoulder and smiling through his tears. "And you as well," he manages, and Angelo makes a questioning noise. "You are my family too, Sir Angelo. Thank you. For this. For- for standing beside me in every dire conflict, for always encouraging me to grow, to strive, for-"

Angelo lifts, and as Angelo hugs him tight, Damien kicks his feet in the air with a squeaking startled laugh.

#elle's fanfic #the penumbra podcast #second citadel #rad bouquet #lizard kissin' tuesday #lord arum #amaryllis of exile #sir damien #sir angelo #the rite of movement

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marvella15 · 4 years

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Astaire & Rogers Rewatch Part 3: Roberta

• The Gay Divorcee was a smash hit, raking in almost $600k in profit for RKO during the Depression. It was also nominated for Best Picture. So then why are Astaire and Rogers not the headliners for Roberta? No clue.

• As dumb as that decision was and is, in some ways, it makes their parts even more enjoyable. As the secondary pair, they don’t have to deal with misunderstandings and contrived plot devices keeping them apart or interfering with the development of their relationship. From the moment they’re on screen together, they’re a pair.

• Their romance in Roberta is of two teenage sweethearts reuniting as adults and instantly falling back in step and in love with one another. The warmth and friendliness of their relationship, which I believe mirrors the true relationship between Astaire and Rogers in many ways, is one of the main reasons I adore this film. There are several scenes/moments where they seem to be themselves and it works perfectly.

• Our characters/actors: Huck (Fred Astaire), Lizzie (Ginger Rogers), John (Randolph Scott), Stephanie (Irene Dunne).

• Love their names in this film: Huck (short for Huckleberry) and Liz. A vast improvement, especially for Rogers who has so far been Honey and Mimi.

• Of course for plot reasons Huck’s teenage sweetheart will be in the exact same place he ends up. But it’s worth noting that he requests for John to ask his aunt about Lizzie. He intends to look her up himself.

• Could John be a himbo?? He’s handsome, kinda dumb, but very kind.

• I like how Liz, in her alter ego as a Polish countess, continues throwing a tantrum even though John pushes her to the couch twice. Rogers doesn’t get enough credit for her slapstick abilities. She also somehow makes the word “orchestra” seem very suggestive.

• Love how Huck slides in towards the elevator in his hast to meet Lizzie again. She’s not mad to see him either, only worried he’ll blow her cover. Which he immediately almost does.

• A snarky reunion:

Liz, as the Countess: “Huck is for Huckleberry, n’est-ce pas?”

Huck: “Uhh yes, a couple of n’est-ce pas.”

• His face at being called a piccolo player is only bested by Liz’s barely concealed glee at Huck being demoted this way. In their first interaction, he calls her babe, toots, and playfully bites her hand and she puffs smoke right in his face. I love it.

Not for nothing, later in the film he will also call John babe and toots. Huck is an equal opportunity complimenter.

• Their relationship is established immediately as he celebrates her success and beauty. There’s no rivalry or obstacles between them, not even her stage name. While she is careful to remove her hand from between his when their private moment is interrupted, she doesn’t mind it being known she’s going off somewhere with him.

• Irene Dunne has a fine singing voice but it’s just not what I came to this movie to hear.

• Huck’s face as he watches Liz sing is adorable. Maybe a tad overdone but incredibly sweet.

(gif credit @themaladjustedjester)

• It’s a bit irritating that Rogers is forced to sing and speak in her fake Polish accent for most of the film but dang she does an amazing job with this song. It’s a full-body performance and she does it with gusto.

• I adore the way Astaire tosses the baton over his shoulder as soon as she comes to sit with him. He’s just like, don’t need that anymore.

• So cute as they reminisce about their younger years:

Liz: “You know I think I was in love with you then, Huck.”

Huck: “I know you were.”

Liz, mildly offended: “Youuuu.”

Huck: “Meeee. And what’s more, I was madly in love with you.”

• Their entire exchange is funny and wonderful. The teasing, the flirting, the declaration of past love for one another that is obviously still true. How he punctuates certain moments with a bit of tap for emphasis. They smile naturally and it feels like two friends talking. This could be AU Fred and Ginger’s real-life story and I would believe it.

• Talking about how she won a beauty contest:

Liz: “Well, you won it for me. How did you get all the men from the overall factory to vote for me?”

Huck, very pleased with himself: “That was easy. I showed them a picture of Lillian Russell.”

Liz, incensed: “Lillian Russell? Well what was the matter with my picture?”

Huck: “Well if you must know, we got a lot of votes from the farmers with a picture of a prize heifer.”

Liz, about to playfully sock him: “Oh youuuu.”

• “I’ll Be Hard to Handle” is a special dance for many reasons including that the taps were not dubbed over later. Since they used the original sound, we can hear both Astaire and Rogers giggling and whooping throughout the dance.

Usually, Astaire recorded the taps in post-production since the sound could not pick them up very well during filming. Hermes Pan, Astaire’s choreography partner, often recorded Rogers’ taps since she was typically off filming a different movie by then.

• Astaire often gets a lot of the credit for their dancing because he worked tirelessly on the choreography. Rogers was often away filming non-musical roles while he did this. She was in three other films in 1935 alone, in addition to both Roberta and Top Hat with Astaire. But she put in a lot of hard work too. While filming those other roles, she learned the choreography from Pan so when she showed up for the six weeks of rehearsal, she was prepared.

• And somehow this number feels perfectly spontaneous. At the start, as he pulls her in, she looks at him flirtatiously and it’s not acting. She waits for him to come spin them around and of course it’s part of the choreography but it’s a lovely feeling of anticipation all the same. Several times they appear lost in their own world, dancing for one another. They also seem to be talking to one another quietly throughout most of the dance. Like before in their films, you can see the acting start and stop pretty clearly.

• When one of them does a little extra dance, the other watches in true appreciation and delight. Again, not acting. Most instances where they make eye contact they look very pleased with themselves. This is the closest we’ll ever get to seeing what Astaire and Rogers were like in rehearsals, complete with the in-joke bugle call.

• To understand better the moments of reality vs. acting, just look at the sequence where they challenge each other and argue using different dance steps. All acting. Then look at their faces immediately after this sequence ends and they enter the final moments of the dance. All them.

Side note: don’t miss how Astaire claps his hands together to make the smacking noise when she slaps him.

• While watching a private fashion show, John and Huck dislike a gorgeous black satin gown that’s low cut and with an almost completely open back because they think it’s too revealing. But later Rogers is going to wear almost this same gown and will look marvelous in it during the “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes” dance.

• After selecting a new gown, Liz teases Huck that “tall, handsome gentleman with large bank accounts will be asking for my telephone number. And getting it.” He replies, “And won’t they be surprised when I answer?”

• Upon hearing that John’s terrible ex, who has just arrived to undump him now that he’s rich and famous, will be leaving on Saturday, Huck departs with this line: “Goodbye, John. I’ll see you Sunday.”

• Irene Dunne definitely enjoys her few seconds of being spun around with Astaire. But who wouldn’t?

• Huck’s line to Sophie, “Gee, darling, you look terrible,” is such a burn and I love it.

• Another thing I have a soft spot for is Astaire’s piano playing. It’s energetic and fun and he doesn’t do it nearly enough imo.

• Astaire sings 3 songs (I’m not counting the fashion show “song”) in Roberta but they all have that very conversational style that suits him. And in fact both “I Won’t Dance” and “Lovely to Look At” are duets framed as a conversation with Rogers. My favorite part of “I Won’t Dance” is this exchange:

Astaire: “You know what? You’re lovely.”

Rogers: “And so what? I’m lovely.”

Astaire: “But oh what you do to me.”

• I also have to mention the little callback to “The Continental” as well as the strange rhyme of “for heaven rest us, I’m not asbestos”??

• Notice how this solo routine for Astaire is not interrupted by any cuts to his face or feet like previously solos? He got his way with the camera work.

• “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes” is a lovely song that I don’t necessarily want Irene Dunne to sing, not when Ginger Rogers is in the same film.

• Rogers’ acting when Huck talks rhetorically about wanting to marry Liz is fabulous. First, she has to be incensed at the mention of a “Liz” when publicly she’s still known as the Countess. Then she’s flustered that he’s just admitted he wants to marry her. And then she glares at him when he takes up the joke and describes his fiance-to-be as “simple” with “big feet.” And all of that happens in about three seconds. The way she sharply looks him up and down always makes me snicker.

• This lengthy fashion show is something else I usually skip. Was there a line of gowns that were sold as movie tie-in merchandise? I highly doubt it. But why else is this so long??

• When Astaire sings the lyrics “and heaven to kiss,” his voice drops and Rogers glances at him. Huck and Liz have most certainly been kissing off screen.

• Absolutely love how the lyrics of “Lovely to Look At” change for Astaire and Rogers. Instead of a “most impossible scheme come true, imagine finding a dream like you,” Rogers sings that he is her “most impossible dream come true, imagine finding a boy like you.” She takes his arm and on the lyrics “it’s thrilling to hold you terribly tight,” he squeezes her hand.

• Their dance, set to “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes,” is slow and stunning, one of the most beautiful they created. It’s full of soft looks between them. Rogers spends most of the beginning gazing at him lovingly. Not to be outdone, Astaire does the same when she’s turned away or not looking at him. He also has a small, private smile soon after they begin. It’s lovely.

• The duet is romantic and yet they don’t embrace fully until about a minute in. Instead, they hover near one another, faces angling together, small touches here and there. Holding fingertips for a particular move. His fingers briefly touch her ribs when she places his hand there for a beat. It’s a dance of deep partnership and love, not courtship. Neither needs to woo the other.

• And when they do embrace, he holds her close for a prolonged moment before moving into the next step. As he does, that private smile sneaks out again.

• The sudden dip is another example of Rogers trusting Astaire. She looks magnificent in the pose too. They both do.

• She lays her head on his shoulder, his hand resting gently on her hair, and her arm is around him. It’s a very intimate pose, made even more so by how he tilts his head towards her and his lips are very close to her brow. And there again, that smile.

• When the music becomes playful, Rogers glances over her shoulder at him and finds his eyes are already on her. Both of their faces soften.

• And ending a sumptuous dance with a backwards leap up three stairs. Super casual. They walk off the way they began, their arms linked.

• Speaking of casual, Huck and Liz get engaged in the most laid back way ever. Perfect for them.

• I have always loved Stephanie’s expression when she realizes just how dumb (but sweet) John is.

• The reprise of “I Won’t Dance” ends the film. Newly engaged but still in the same clothes they just performed a slow, romantic duet in, Astaire and Rogers perform a much more energetic dance. She makes her dress work for her superbly. The way they dance is very like “I’ll Be Hard to Handle,” which shows that this celebratory number is Huck and Liz, not the bandleader and the Countess performing for a crowd. And the choice of song is fitting since in the lyrics he said he couldn’t dance with her for fear he’d fall in love with her. But now they have danced quite intimately and they’re engaged. Might as well keeping dancing together.

• Soooo another film finished! We’re getting into some of the best ones now. Up next: Top Hat.

• Also if fanfiction is your thing, here’s a very sweet one for this film.

#fred astaire #ginger rogers #roberta #classic hollywood #old hollywood #astaire and rogers rewatch #fred and ginger #y'all have got me making gifs now for this #and by y'all i mean my own perfectionism and obsession

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jebazzled · 4 years

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Why Aren’t People Writing With Me?

Why aren't people writing with me?

Real talk: do you often find yourself waiting weeks or even months between partners replying to your posts? Do people seem to prioritize all their other threads over yours? Do people seem to be just not that jazzed about writing with you? It's the worst feeling, when you're spinning your wheels and on the outskirts, wondering why you're struggling to gain traction. Sometimes, sites just be like that - people writing with their friends, or closed groups hard for a newer member to break into, or folks writing on slow timelines, or not keeping track of how long they've kept a partner waiting. It comes with the territory. But sometimes, it might be your writing that's holding your threads back. I know what you're thinking:

But it's something everyone can genuinely stand to consider, when they're having trouble getting a thread to keep moving: how much of this is my thread partner holding me up, and how much of it is me? Is there anything I can do to keep things moving? No matter how long you've been writing or how advanced a writer you are, it can be easy to forget that writing is ultimately a game of improv, and writing well is only part of the job. Part of the job is setting your partner up for a good time, too.

This tutorial is about writing starters & replies that make your thread partner excited to write back.

We'll be covering:

Starters that stall vs. starters that enthrall (sorry! the rhyme was necessary.)

Common tactics for writing replies - and common pitfalls of them

Alternate approaches to writing replies

Hopefully, these tips and tricks will improve your rp experience - because aren't we all here for a good time?

Onward!

STARTERS

Ah, starters. The bane of every roleplayer's existence. Starters are difficult because they often require some scene-setting, leaving the writer to try to set up a premise and a vibe without powerplaying for their partner. And then, you've got to start the interaction. There's a lot to contend with, so a lot of people avoid starters at all costs.

Personally, I like starting a thread: this way, I'm not waiting on a post; I have control over when it goes up. Thread partners often appreciate you writing a starter for them, so it's an easy way to engender good will. And finally, for me, it lets me make sure the thread is off to a good, actionable start.

Starters come with pressure - the starter sets the tone for the thread. A dud starter will stump your partner on replying, and they may even grow to dread posting. Which isn't fun for either of you!

Some things to consider when crafting a starter that will get your partner excited:

PREMISE Whether you're writing an open thread or a plotted thread for a specific partner, every starter needs a premise. The premise might be simple: perhaps your character is going to pickpocket your partner's. Maybe it's two friends catching up. It could be two strangers bumping into each other in an alley. It might also be more complex: maybe you're setting up an enemies-friends-lovers-enemies-rivals-lovers-friends-enemies plot. Maybe your character is defending the teaching of evolution to schoolchildren before a jury of his peers. Maybe it's a duel.

Generally, the more specific the premise, the better. This doesn't mean you need every beat of the thread plotted out, but it is good to think about: What do we want each character to get out of the thread?

Think of this as your overall goal for the thread. Is one character seeking reassurance or advice? Is there a business transaction being made? Have you and your partner agreed to hurt one character in a duel? If you can't think of an overall goal or point for the thread, the chances of stalling are high. This is common with "catch up" threads, especially ones in which neither character has particularly exciting updates to share. If only one character is "getting something" out of the thread, be careful in your own posts to set up plenty for your partner to respond to. Not every thread will have equal actionable payoff for both characters, which isn't inherently a bad thing. But if your posts don't give your partner much to engage with, the thread can read as selfish or one-sided - which isn't anyone's intention!

How do we want the events of this thread to impact this character, moving forward?

Related to the above, if both characters can walk away from this thread without any change - perhaps reconsider the premise or necessity of your thread. There is no shame in not doing a thread when it wouldn't mean anything to character development or plot progression for either character! "Just because" threads are always the first that drop on thread priorities - why not save yourself the trouble, and plot something you will both be excited about?

What is the most reasonable entrypoint for this thread?

Reality is filled with filler - moments in which nothing interesting happens, but which carry us from point A to point B. Conversation that goes nowhere and just happens for the sake of filling silence. But this isn't reality, this is fiction, which means we can cut the boring stuff and jump straight into the meat. If your premise is Character A pickpocketing Character B, don't open with Character A just wandering around the market, waiting for Character B to wander around the market, so Character A can pickpocket them: close your starter with Character A's hand around Character B's wallet. This gives your thread partner something to respond to (the theft) and in two fewer posts than it would have taken otherwise.

ACTION Dialogue is an engine for plot progression and for character development, and there is nothing quite as satisfying as strong dialogue. But questions, greetings, and other standard ways to launch an in-character conversation aren't your only options.

All a starter needs is action, and saying "hello," "what are you doing," or "hey! That's my pod racer!" are all actions. But actions can be silent, too, so long as they trigger a reaction from your writing partner. Character A pulling their hand out of the butt pocket on Character B's jeans, wallet in hand, begs Character B to react. Character C puking into the same trash can where Character D is searching for the utility bill they need for proof of address gives Character D something to dodge. Character E speedwalking through the grocery store and destroying the greeting card aisle gives Character F something to be horrified at. Even if A, C, and E all do it without saying a word. One thing you'll notice about each of the above premises is that they involve doing something - pickpocketing, puking/dumpster diving, grocery shopping. If you suspect your starters are leaving people underwhelmed, consider building your premise around action. The action doesn't need to be dramatic like the above examples. For instance, let's say that Character G is catching up with Character H after her divorce. They can do this over coffee in Character G's living room - but if they're walking their dogs while Character G's kids are with her ex-husband, you and your partner can use the dogs as emotional stand-ins:

Hannah dug her heels into the ground as Penelope started after a squirrel. Beside her, Gloria and Fifi both seemed not to see it. Hannah had never seen Gloria so out of it, so disconnected from the world around her. It frightened her. "How's Fifi holding up?" she asked, quietly, once Penelope calmed down and they kept walking. "I know Mike wasn't great to her, but - she probably misses the routine?"

Giving the characters some sort of verb to do beyond talking gives you more lenses through which to view an interaction, plus more opportunity for body language for your partner to respond to.

STARTERS: TL;DR Now that we've talked about how to start a thread on the right foot, let's quickly review our main food for thought items. Mind Snacks, if you will:

What do we want to get out of this thread?

Start on track for that result - do not lead with a detour!

Build around action - even small ones

Is the concept of this thread important or interesting? Would we be better served skipping it and writing something else?

REPLIES

Now your thread is off the ground. Excellent! It's a few posts in but your partner doesn't seem very excited - maybe they don't message you about how much they liked your reply, or how fun the thread is so far, or maybe they don't react to the tag in the server; maybe it's radio silence from them until they reply a month and a half later, when they're caught up on the threads they seem to keep shuffling ahead of yours. How do we move your thread up in the shuffle? Make it fun to reply to, and easy to reply to.

COMMON APPROACHES An easy way to tackle a reply is by having your character react to each action and dialogue from your partner's character:

Maycey slid into the navigator's seat of the L2-47 spaceship, almost kicking over a cup of Dark Matter Decaf.

"Sorry," she said, not looking at Brooks. "Are we still checking out Planet 42601, or did General Berry have us change course?" Brooks watched Maycey enter the cockpit, snorting as she almost knocked over his coffee. Though it wouldn't be funny to see what the brew would do to the controls of the L2-47. "No problem," he said. "General Berry wants us to do a pass over 42601, but we aren't doing a full landing."

This reply covers everything Maycey did in her post, but doesn't advance the thread. What comes next? Brooks hasn't given Maycey much information to process, nothing to act on, no juicy body language to consider. Maycey's writer is fully on their own to advance the thread. To move it forward in a meaningful way, they might come up with a plot development they need to run by Brooks's writer to make sure it's not stepping on anything Brooks had planned. They may need to make up some lore. They may need to expand the premise of the thread. Brooks may or may not have helpful input, but when push comes to shove, Maycey is the one who is going to put it in their reply.

Maycey whipped her gaze to her captain, shocked. "But sir - we've come all this way to rescue 42601. Berry - sorry, General Berry wants us to abandon them? Their distress signal took three days to reach us; the atomospheric poisoning has got to be lethal by now." Her hands didn't touch the controls - she couldn't bear to take them off course to the desperate planet. "Sir, we have to do what's right." Brooks took a sip of his coffee, thinking about his own family back on Orbital Sphere 23-Y2K. They'd put out a distress signal years ago, back in his own training days. He'd seen it during radar detection class, and he'd had to ignore it. For the Good of the Galaxy. Not a day goes by that he doesn't think about the flashing signal on his screen, and about clicking the popup window. Dismiss. This, too, is for the Good of the Galaxy. He has to pretend it doesn't bother him. "The right thing is what General Berry says," he said, putting the coffee cup back in its cupholder. "For the Good of the Galaxy."

All of that work from Maycey, and Brooks only gave us one sentence to propel the plot. Yes, he had a lengthy internal monologue debating it - but that interiority means nothing to Maycey, who isn't a mind-reader. In this scenario, the focus on Brooks's tragic backstory, without giving Maycey anything actionable, sets up a very one-sided dynamic. If this happens consistently over one or many threads, the tragic backstory no longer feels tragic in a meaningful way, but just feels like a trite device to be trotted out - to tell rather than show a reader that a character has depth.

How could this post give Maycey more to work off of? Below is the same reply from Brooks, with additions made in green, rearranged wording in blue.

Brooks could feel Maycey's stare - bewildered and accusatory. He can hardly blame her, but she should know by now that this is how the Galaxy stays out of the Great Bezosian Black Hole. Sheer obedience. He avoided her eye contact, took a sip of coffee. Sheer obedience. Just like years ago - back in his own training days. He'd seen it during radar detection class, his own family's distress signal back on Orbital Sphere 23-Y2K, and he'd had to ignore it. For the Good of the Galaxy. Not a day goes by that he doesn't think about the flashing signal on his screen, and about clicking the popup window. Dismiss. This, too, is for the Good of the Galaxy. He has to pretend it doesn't bother him. "The right thing is what General Berry says," he said, putting the coffee cup back in its cupholder - his hands are shaking; it misses the rim twice, sloshes onto the knee of his parasuit. "For the Good of the Galaxy."

This version acknowledges the primary beat of Maycey's post (something we will talk about later) - that is, her accusation - and adds body language betraying his doubts. While interiority is great, externalization makes it possible for other characters to engage with your character's thoughts and motives. Brooks's new post gives Maycey more to engage with, which will better set her up to give Brooks more to engage with, and so on. When you both do the lifting, you both have a better time.

Another common method - especially in conversational threads, especially in "catching up" premises - is to lean on dialogue and, more specifically, questions. But most conversations we have in life aren't nonstop questions!

"Trudy said you got married," Annabelle said, fiddling with the edge of the linen tablecloth. "Is that true? I thought you didn't like Edgar - not like that." Sasha took an enormous bite of raw cucumber, not even bothering to slice it. "We just got engaged, we're not married yet. Don't you like Edgar?" Annabelle looked away, suddenly nervous. She didn't know why it mattered to her whether or not Sasha liked Edgar - only that it did. "He's fine, I guess. But do you like him?" "I do! I love him. Will you be my maid of honor?" Sasha grinned at her friend. She wanted nothing else in the world but for Annabelle to be part of her special day.

This series of posts involves a number of questions both stated in dialogue:

Is Sasha married?

Does Sasha like Edgar?

Does Annabelle like Edgar?

Will Annabelle be Sasha's maid of honor?

And unstated:

Why is Annabelle nervous?

Why does Annabelle care whether or not Sasha likes Edgar?

The stated questions are yes/no questions, somewhat procedural. The unstated question and its implication - that Annabelle cares about whether or not Sasha likes Edgar because she might like Sasha - is a juicier question than the minutiae of wedding planning. But Sasha's writer isn't letting Sasha notice or react to any of Annabelle's body language (her nervousness, her fiddling with the tablecloth) and focuses instead on the simple questions, which are a cover for what isn't being said. Information does not need to be voiced for it to be acted upon. Let's look at the same line of posts, with additions in green for Sasha and in pink for Annabelle.

"Trudy said you got married," Annabelle said, fiddling with the edge of the linen tablecloth. "Is that true? I thought you didn't like Edgar - not like that." Sasha had wondered when Annabelle would ask. She seems on-edge, fiddling with the tablecloth, as though they've never had a picnic outside before. She's not sure why Annabelle is out of sorts, but it's making her feel out of sorts. Sasha took an enormous bite of raw cucumber, not even bothering to slice it. "We just got engaged, we're not married yet. Don't you like Edgar?" She gently grasped Annabelle's fingers, unclenching them from the hem of the tablecloth. "Edgar thinks you're the bee's knees." Sasha's hand on hers - her stomach did a flip, palms instantly feeling clammy, like she could swoon in the summer sun. Annabelle looked away, suddenly nervous. It's worse that Edgar likes her. Makes her feel vile for resenting him like she does. She didn't know why it mattered to her whether or not Sasha liked Edgar - only that it did. "He's fine, I guess. But do you like him?" It's a silly question - of course she loves him; how could she have said yes otherwise? But Annabelle seems not to believe her. Annabelle seems to worry. Annabelle is worried so much of the time - and so much for her - she tries to be reassuring, gripping her friend by the shoulders, offering a grin. "I do! I love him. Will you be my maid of honor?" She wanted nothing else in the world but for Annabelle to be part of her special day. Annabelle is her best friend - the only person she could stand at the altar with besides Edgar.

See how much more complex the dynamic is between these two when they have things to react to other than dialogue?

REPLIES PART 1: TL;DR So now we've addressed two common approaches to replies and seen how they can fall short, and discussed tips for elevating them. Your main takeaways:

Acting is reacting - react to your partner's dialogue AND body language, and give them some to work from, too!

Dialogue is not a game of Questions Only

If you're not driving the thread forward, you're slacking - don't leave it to your partner every time!

SYNTHESIZING: YOUR NEW APPROACH TO WRITING REPLIES

Now that we've discussed the pitfalls of action-by-action responses and dialogue-only threading, let's synthesize all of the above into one methodology for writing replies. The common pitfall of action-by-action responses is that one writer ends up only ever progressing the thread one sentence at a time - thinking of a post in terms of beats helps separate what actually needs substantive response, versus what is background information to inform your response. When I write a reply, I copy and paste my partner's post into the wordcounter window where I write my posts. I read their post and identify the beats - that is, what actually happens. For example:

Getting elected student body president was no joke. Hattie had worked for eleven long years to earn the position - bossed around her peers all the way from preschool. Back then, she'd been interested in power and prestige. But by the time she'd won the election junior year, she was exhausted. Now, on her first day of senior year, she was just excited about the choice parking spot. And yet, someone had the audacity - the nerve - to cut her off on the turn into the Keppler Family Parking Pavilion and slide right into her coveted parking spot. Crooked, so they took up the access lane to the adjoining handicapped spot. Too far forward, enough that she could see the metal RESERVED FOR STUDENT BODY PRESIDENT sign shaking on top of its pole. She threw herself out of her car, aiming the sole of her left Doc Marten into the license plate of the offender's Buick. "Hey, genius, there's no fucking run-off election this year!"

Because this is a starter, much of this is scene setting, which my partner could choose to echo, but the main things for them to react to are what my character - Hattie - offers in the moment:

dramatically throwing herself out of the car

kicking their license plate

swearing at them

Once I've distilled a post to the beats I need to respond to, I work my way through them, creating beats for my partner to respond to. With this method, a reply to the above might look like this:

Aunt Mildred's car was affectionately called The Boat for the first ten years of its life. Huge and unsinkable. That had changed when Aunt Mildred died in a boating accident over the summer, leaving Mikey the Boat's captain. Now, he just called it the Buick. And he wasn't very good at driving it - already he'd been honked at twice, overshot the turn into the parking lot, tires riding up on the curb. He pulled into the first available space. Figured he was outside the lines - but it seemed like the Buick was too wide to fit between lines anyway. And Aunt Mildred had never been one to follow rules. The terrible park job was in her memory. The sound of metal crunching at the back of the car, however, was not. If it's an accident, the Boat - the Buick - always wins, so Mikey gathered his violin case and drawstring backpack from the passenger seat, opened the driver's side door, and slowly got out of the car, turning his beanie backwards as if it mattered while he shuffled in his Adidas slides to the trunk, where a very short, very angry girl driving a Smart Car was trying to put the Boat - the Buick - in its place. "The car's not moving," he said, pulling a roll of Bubble Tape out of his backpack and taking a huge bite out of it. "But thanks for telling me my voting rights."

Mikey responds to Hattie's abuse of his car, but also gives Hattie a lot to respond to - minor dialogue, but a LOT of personal eccentricities that are bound to piss her off.

The dialogue and the action contribute to the trajectory of the thread - and giving Hattie something to play with keeps the musing about Aunt Mildred from feeling self-indulgent.

It's a small shift, going from thinking of posts as paragraphs to respond to to thinking of them as specific, small, actionable moments - but it makes a difference, especially in encouraging writers to be more thoughtful about creating opportunities for their partner to react.

REPLIES PART 2: TL;DR

beats, babey! not every sentence requires a response, but be sure to write some that do, whether it be dialogue or action.

ACTING IS REACTING!!!!!! if you don't give your partner something to react to, you are letting them down!

And that's all there is to it! Hopefully these examples are helpful as you think about ways to drive your plots and threads, and how to keep your own writing great for collaboration. The most important thing is to think of your writing partner. What do they need to be able to write back? What will make this thread exciting for them? How can you make sure this thread isn't serving you alone? Cheers, and happy writing!

#christ this was annoying to format #rp guides #resources #writing resources #rp writing #posts #starters #replies

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