#Leave that teenage girl alone you creeps she's literally so nice and sweet how could you hate her

[lulughoul]

I like g3 Frankie more than g1 Frankie but genuinely what is WRONG with g1 Frankie haters. Like are we really gonna slutshame a teenage character from a piece of media for children because she's had multiple crushes?? Don't people realize that it's completely possible to have a lot of crushes?

#Like I've seen someone call her a “skank” once #Leave that teenage girl alone you creeps she's literally so nice and sweet how could you hate her #Also reminder that g1 Draculaura also had other silly crushes/dates before dating Clawd #But nah That's our fan favorite coquette pink queen so she doesn't get the same fandom treatment #Yknow actually. Most mhg1 characters had more than one crush #And there's nothing wrong with that. It's not euphoria stop slutshaming a doll line

[wannaholdhandswithfictionalmen]

(My) Sanctuary;

A/n: First Ever Fic for Genshin Impact Fandom. A fic no one asked for but the idea was living in my head rent free, so what's a girl to do except play more Genshin Impact and work on this fic. (Listened to Sanctuary & Don't think twice by Hikaru Utada while writing this -- hence my inspired and very unoriginal title for this fic because I am horrible at thinking of titles.) 

Genre: Mostly Fluff really, a pinch or two of Angst.

Warning: Implied underage drinking. Brief description of Violence. Of age drinking. 

Summary: Childhood friends with history. Unspoken feelings. Mutual pining. Circumstances and life have forced you and Diluc on different paths, but you always return to Mondstadt and Diluc always makes time for you.

Word count: 3,128

The busy streets of Mondstadt. How long had it been this time? The absence of your presence from these cobblestone paths; four, five? No. Six months. Commissions to fight greater, fierce foes across Teyvat demanded your blades and lightning. Not that it mattered much how far or long you ventured from your former home. There was only one person who meant a great deal, important even if you could not sort through all the emotions attached to him in your own heart or even dare to give voice to those emotions.

Diluc Ragnvindr. 

And despite the inner twisted, festering turmoil (of your own making) cradled in your heart for Mondstadt, Favonius Knights, The Fatui 'diplomats'. Diluc was always a reason to return. 

In fact you aren't at all surprised when you stop by Good Hunter, offering up a handful of Mora for a meal. Sitting down at a table, closing your eyes. You took in a deep breath, the air here felt different to you. Thanks to the Anemo god, Barbatos. You swear it truly is the sense, embodiment of freedom that fills your lungs and soothes you even if for a few seconds. 

A savory blend of mushrooms, chicken and noodles is your lunch for the day. After thirty minutes have passed since your arrival in Mondstadt. And Diluc is sliding into the chair across from your own, elbows on the table, arms folded. Crimson eyes silently taking in the features of you. 

"Hm. You're slacking. That's ten minutes later than before, what took your little informants so long to whisper in your ear word of me being back?" You don't even spare a look at him, taking another bite, chewing a mouthful as you wait for his reply. 

"I do have a winery to run and the protection of Mondstadt to ensure, I can't not always come rushing away for personal affairs." Diluc holds a evident edge of underlying frustration in his smooth voice. 

Your own gaze trails up and over him, taking in the exasperation and exhaustion that furrows the brow of his otherwise stoic expression-- you want to ask when he last got a full night's rest? If he was still doing his lone warrior, Darknight Hero routine? If he was as stubborn as ever shouldering the burden of his fervor desire to defend and protect. Oh, how you worry, worry and worry the weight of it all on your tongue, tightening your throat-- who takes care of you? Who stands by your side? Who defends you? Who protects you? Who lov-

Once upon a time it had been you but a vortex of mourning, sorrow, rage swallowed up your old life. Until you wanted nothing more than to never see the walls of Mondstadt ever again. One day leaving it all behind. Time was a cruel mistress, one day swiftly grew to years. The first time you returned from what would become regular disappearances--adventures. 

Damage had been done. Diluc was the one who reached out to savage your friendship and you had welcomed the chance to have him back in your life even if it would never be anything more. 

"Should I be honored that the gentleman Ragnvindr can even grace me with his company?" It's a hollow jest as you pick at your half eaten plate of food. 

"No," His dismissal of the notion is soft yet firm. "Just Diluc, a friend, who is glad to see you well again." It's never his straight-forward or blunt nature that catches you off guard, it's when the subtle but clear sincerity creeps to the surface. Open, unwavering in his honesty.  

You huff, looking down feigning disinterest yet the twitch of your lips is undeniable. Warmth, simple, gentle curls in your chest. Happiness. Flickering embers outside of the stone walls of your heart that would make Rex Lapis proud. Diluc had always been able to slip past your defenses, so easily lingering in your thoughts, in your heart. Whether he was aware of it or not. 

"I suppose I am glad to see you too. Saved me a few bottles of my favorite wine?" You ask glancing up to catch his watchful gaze, biting your bottom lip as a wide smile threatened to spread on your face. Dulic's sudden raised eyebrow says it all-- do you really need to ask? 

"Four pristine bottles of aged mixed sunsettia, valberry wine." Prideful is subtle and delicate in his voice as if Diluc would ever forget your favorite wine. Funny enough to think about how even as the unspoken king of the winery industry, he doesn't enjoy alcohol himself. Still keeping a stock of your favorite in his manor. 

"You never let me pay you and we can't really share a few glasses together, so," you hum, slowly wired up with nervous yet excited anticipation as you reach down into the bag hanging off your shoulder. Shifting through the items and materials you carried with you for cooking and crafting you find it! Grabbing a slender jug of a bottle, wrapped in cloth. Swiftly placed on the table in front of Diluc. "I brought something for you." 

It's not like grape juice is such a hard find or something Diluc could not afford himself with his abundance of wealth but you had commissioned a famous brewer to make a special blend of grapes and other berries to create a rich and sweet juice. With your own Mora to spare after a few jobs, and you had a feeling your wandering would lead back to Mondstadt. 

Diluc is steady, slow with peeling back the cloth to stare at the deep, dark purple liquid filling the glass bottle. Uncorking the bottle, Diluc takes a whiff, closing his eyes, the smile that graces his face. It's everything and so much more. "It smells delicious. Thank you, I can't wait to taste it." 

"Then we should begin our walk to the manor? I can hear my wine calling me." You leave a few Mora coins as a tip, standing up, Diluc presses the cork back into the bottle and hands it back to you for safe keeping. 

"Alright," Diluc nods, following, matching your stride with ease. "Adelinde was asking about you the other day, you know she always makes sure your room is tidy, spotless in fact." 

Stupid. How one little phrase has your stomach full of crystal flies like you are a teenager all over again. And the mention of the kind maid who still fusses over Diluc and you on occasion makes you happy. It is a nice reprieve from nights of solitude, you are content to travel alone but loneliness is a creature that waits, and waits until the right moment to sink its claws and fangs into you on the road. 

The walk from Mondstadt isn't far but you aren't expecting a fully pleasant and peaceful walk with Diluc. Outside of the gates of the city and a few minutes down the dirt road, the sight of Hilichurls is predictable. 

Small pack of fighters, five Hilichurls carrying clubs and one hulking Mitachurl with a shield. This should be fun. 

"Make sure to show me how playing the part of the nighttime hero has kept your skills sharp!" You yell with a laugh, grinning as you summon your sword, forged of dragon bone, jagged, fierce blade. Rushing forward you dodge past the throw Pyro slimes. 

You let yourself run a little wild, your Electro vision surge through you, bolts of lightning crash down on the charging Hilichurls. Shocking and stunning the monsters for a moment, that's all you need to unleash a flurry of fast slashes.

A loud, enraged howl, crashing stomps approach from your back. Anyone else would need to worry or doubt--you don't. The familiar roar and rumble of flames fills the air, the scorning heat of it nipping behind you. Diluc doesn't even let that Mitcahurl so much as graze you, his grunts and shouts clash with its growl and howls as his flame imbued blade breaks and burns through the beast's wooden shield. Leaving ashes flying in the air and the heavy smell of smoke and fire. 

You electrify the Hilichurls, slowing, paralyzing the small beasts until they are left vulnerable and weak against you. The perfect targets. You cleave one's head off, stab straight through the mask of another, impale the chest of another. Delivering killing blows with precision and force. Wiping them out, you turn in time to see the beauty of Diluc. 

Rapid, graceful, relentless, ferocity embraced in unyielding flames. The towering giant Hilichurl is left staggering, stumbling under the strikes of Diluc's claymore left all too unprotected without its shield to hide behind. Diluc turns up the heat quite literally, the soaring, blazing phoenix that emerged from his own vision and will, his flames destroy the Mitcahurl, wiping out its pitiful existence effortlessly. 

Diluc shakes a bit of lingering flames and smoke off the steel of his blade with a sweeping slash at the air, standing among darkened, black grass, a gust of wind sways his hair and he looks over his shoulder. It is surely a moment deserving of immortalizing in portrait, his bright red hair blowing in the wind, holding his greatsword in one hand, sunlight giving him an ethereal glow, gazing at you. 

Giving a slow applause, you whistle and laugh. "Flashy as ever, Diluc." 

"The pyro element leaves little room for anything else. Still it's efficient and powerful," Diluc turns to face you, letting go of the hilt of his sword as it vanishes, unneeded outside of battle. "However, it's not something you could critique me on, when anyone for miles could see your lightning." 

"Fair enough." 

Besides a few stray slimes, the rest of your walk is undisturbed, reaching the winery as nightfall, the sun dipping below the horizon. 

"(Name) it is good to see you well." Adelinde smiles upon seeing you as Diluc opens the front door and holds it open for you to walk in first. She hugs you, it's hard not to melt into her tight cradle. 

"Have you been eating well? Sleeping accordingly? Not just naps. Taking breaks in between all your monster hunting?" Her lovingly stern questions always feel comforting in a way that is odd to describe and felt deeply. 

"I am still standing, Adelinde, fully rested and my stomach is full at the moment." 

"You would do well to keep it as such." Adelinde levels you with a motherly look of if you do not take care of yourself, I will which should be hard to make look threatening but the older woman handles it with years of expertise. She has worried over guests, Diluc, Kaeya, you for many, many years in the pact and many to come you are certain. 

"Adelinde, please have the bottles of sunsettia, valberry wine brought up, we-" 

"One step ahead of you, Master Diluc. Hillie and Moco brought them up a short while ago, I hope you two enjoy your time together." Adelinde leaves the manor, you aren't sure what work needs to be done on the grounds, you know for a fact Adeline specifically tries to do outside chores during daylight hours. It's an obvious tell for someone who knows her, she is ensuring you and Diluc remain alone for now. An avid supporter of your friendship you suppose. 

Diluc barely gets to call out a 'thank you!' as she is shutting the door. 

You stroll across the room, not much has changed at all. Your destination is the furniture set by the fireplace, the small, round table paired with two cushioned chairs. Pulling out the bottle of juice to place on the table top next to the bottles of wine, to cups awaiting you both. 

Pouring your first cup, you are eager, excited to taste the almost sickeningly sweet flavor of the wine. It never seems to taste the same from any other winery or brewery or even in the company of others. 

Moments of comfortable quiet drift by as you slowly, steadily sip and savory the wine. 

When Diluc takes the first taste of your gift and his low moan of approval as he swallows. Oh. You could listen to that again and again. All husky, raspy delight that sends shivers down your spine. It feels good to bring any kind of bliss to Diluc, even the simplest kind by providing him a drink he loves. 

You get the mutual feeling of being watched as you drink, sighing and smiling at the taste, the feeling of nostalgia creeps up on you. 

"I remember the first time I tasted this wine. We were barely teenagers sneaking down into the cellar. I badly wanted to try the wine everyone in Mondstadt wouldn't shut up about," you recall it interrupting yourself with short, full breaths of levity. Far too amused by the memory to contain your laughter. "I- I asked. No- begged you to come down with me while your father was gone, saying I'd bring Kaeya instead if you didn't come, bluffing and you got as red as a flaming flower, grabbed my hand and pulled me all the way to the cellar and downstairs." 

Diluc huffs, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning back into the cushions of the sofa. "You knew how to push my buttons too well, half of the stuff I let you talk me into was completely foolish." Staring into the lit fire as he listened to you. 

"Just half?"

"Fine. All of the escapades I let you drag me along on were absurd." 

"Your welcome as I recall you had a lot of fun." 

"At the risk of a lot of trouble, you tested the lengths of even my father's generous patience." Diluc shook his head, the fondness in expression was plain as day. 

"Oh, remember the night after getting my gliding license, I dared you to join me on top of the cathedral to see which of us could get farther across the city, and you landed in a bush!" Several glasses of wine, one empty bottle of the tart and sweet berry alcohol and you felt even more relaxed, comfortable in the company of Diluc. 

"I, at the very least, remained dry. You were the one who crash-landed right into the fountain." Diluc smirked, sharp, sly as he chuckled, lightly tugging and adjusting the fabric of his gloves. Idle gestures as his cup stays on the table after a few sips. 

"I would rate my dive undoubtedly ten out of ten." By the Archons, it had been a miracle you both escaped from the knights of Favonius night patrol with the commotion you made, wet leather boots on stone top made you slip a few times in your dash to escape discovery. Diluc had kept a firm grip on your arm, tugging you back up and refusing to leave you behind. 

Then you remember, hiding away, pressed chest to chest, the chill of your soaked clothes clinging to you, the rise and fall of heavy, labored breaths. How close Diluc had been, that smokey, fiery scent that having pyro vision gifted him along with faint aroma of fruit thanks to the orchard of the dawn winery, he worked with his father on occasion. If you had just tilted your head up, leaned in--

"I know Kaeya was always jealous. I could talk you into anything but you refused his antics left and right." 

"It's different. I actually like you and spending time with you." Diluc's deadpan response pulls a ugly snort-laugh from you. His relationship with Kaeya is an odd one but you know deep down he cares for his brother even if things aren't exactly civil between them. 

"I feel so special." 

"As you should, I don't like people." His sarcasm, that is half-joke, half-truth keeps you laughing. 

The first wave of tiredness hits you, letting out an involuntary yawn. Your travels, the trek and fight from earlier catch up with you. Combined with the consumption of alcohol. 

"I think the wine is getting to me, I feel a little sleepy." You finish off your glass with one gulp, smooth like silk down your throat, the lack of burn makes it far too easy to want to empty all the bottles. Four. You'd certainly regret that in the morning. 

"I noticed." Diluc gets up first, three steps towards you, he is holding out his hand to you. 

"I can walk myself, I am not that drunk." You protest his offer while reaching out and taking his hand, entwining your fingers without a second thought. Diluc gives your hand a squeeze, his slender fingers lightly caressing the back of your hand. He guides you upstairs to your room as if you don't know the way by heart as if your room would ever change. 

"You would never ask for help yourself and you did break a vase the last time, even the smallest bit of intoxication seems to make you clumsier." Diluc gives his clear and absolutely unfair opinion. It happened one time!

It is really not necessary either to open the door for you, letting go of your hand only to press the large, warm palm of his hand against your back. Nor does Diluc need to kneel before you as you sit on the edge of the bed, unfastening your boots, removing your satchel and placing your belongings on the bedside table. 

"It is hilarious to hear you of all people, calling me out of not asking for help. Mister Darknight." 

Dliuc 'tsks' at the mention of his beloved hero name. "I am aware, that can be a little hypocritical." 

"A little?" 

"(Name)," Diluc speaks your name so tenderly, softly, as if the word itself is precious. "I simply want to help you, to car-" He clears his throat cutting off that train of thought. Pausing for seconds of silence pass, crimson eyes staring into your own. "If there was anyone I would accept help from it would be you." 

That is dangerously close to an admission of something else. And all every moment of the past, all the maybe(s), what-ifs, almost(s) flash through your mind. You could take the leap or let this become another memory to turn over and over in your head, wondering, wanting, yearning. 

"Get some rest." Diluc walks over to the door, standing in the open threshold of the room, hand gripping the door knob. 

"Diluc, wait" It's barely a whisper, so hushed and subdued. So low, he doesn't hear it and when Diluc looks over his shoulder, the short-lived courage in you has diminished and you can't bring yourself to voice all the longing, desire, love trapped in your heart. 

"Goodnight, Diluc."

"Goodnight, (Name)." 

#Genshin Impact #Genshin impact fics #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact reader insert #genshin impact one shots #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #genshin impact diluc #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios

[kuroos-moon]

『Little Jacket-Stealing Secret』 

pairing: Yamaguchi Tadashi x reader 

➪ he’s never the type to not make his relationship public and all that 

➪ it’s not really secret, if the opportunity presented itself then he would introduce you in a proper way 

➪ but there’s this peace in having a still secret relationship, not much would pry and all that 

➪ so there he was in class, listening to whatever his teacher was saying when it suddenly started pouring outside 

➪ first thought that comes to mind: does y/n have an umbrella? 

➪ oh he has one, okay cool there’s nothing to worry about, you guys could share it

➪ but wait, wouldn’t you be cold? Well, he had a spare jacket in his locker, he’ll give it to you 

➪ “Do you need a jacket y/n? Are you cold?” He texts you

➪ “It’s fine, love. I have my own.” 

➪ there you were, in his big Karasuno jacket as you walked around school for the whole day 

➪ no way in the world was that gonna miss Hinata’s eye

➪ the nosy orange didn’t waste a second before calling Kageyama and pointing an accusing finger at you 

➪ “I bet she stole it,” he whispers, he was quickly hit with a smack on the head from Tobio though

➪ “Baka! She probably borrowed it from one of us,” he says 

➪ “OOOOH BUT FROM WHO?” but you’ve disappeared in the crowd before they could ask you

➪ they don’t see you again but Hinata was blabbering about it to the team during practice that day

➪ Yama being clueless that he was referring to you, paid no mind. This sweet boy simply forgot you loved to steal jackets.

➪ you’re waiting for him outside the gym, considering you had nothing else to do anyway 

➪ you yelp when you hear a shout, “ahah!” you look to see Hinata pointing at you with a triumphant look on his face 

➪ “Guys quick! There’s that girl!” He shouts, numerous footsteps following after that 

➪ you feel embarrassment creeping in when literally the whole team stood before you in wonder and curiosity 

➪ “Eh? That’s not yours is it? Whose is it?” Tanaka asks, unintentionally scaring you

➪ “Guys! You’re scaring her! I’m sorry, we were just wondering why you had our jacket,” Sugamama was sure to be polite 

➪ you finally eye Yamaguchi who was last to leave the gym and he finally understood the scene before him 

➪ in a second he had rushed in front of you knowing you’d obviously be intimidated by such tall teenage boys 

➪ “Wait I can explain,” he holds his hands up to try calm down their horses 

➪ “Well, uh, how do I put it?” He mumbles, scratching the back of his head in thought knowing they were bound to explode in shock

➪ “Uh this is y/n, my girlfriend, y/n, these are the boys.” 

➪ “YOUR WHAT?” Hinata exclaims and Kageyama chokes 

➪ Yamaguchi Tadashi had a girlfriend? 

➪ Tsukki wasn’t really surprised and instead went back inside the gym

➪ “It’s nice to meet all of you,” you mumble 

➪ practice started late that day as the team gathered around you, asking you since when, and what you guys loved to do 

➪ they adored you of course, and Yamaguchi would frown a bit when you fall victim to the hyper trio, Noya, Tanaka and Hinata who just can’t leave you alone 

➪ this is exactly why he wanted the peace of having you unknown to them

➪ regardless, Daichi read the mood and made sure you’d be left alone at least for the whole duration of their practice 

➪ Yama was definitely quick to drag you away after practice though, shouting a quick “gomen Tsukki,” as he ran off with you 

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu yamaguchi #yamaguchi #yamaguchi x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! headcanons #haikyuu!! scenarios #haikyuu!! yamaguchi #yamaguchi tadashi

[katnissmellarkkk]

Alrightttt, I’m on a roll so we’re going onto chappy five 🥳🥳🥳😎😎

I know the movies made the Capitol — re: basically only Effie and maybe Caesar — have those ridiculous made up accents but .... I actually feel like the description of the Capitol accent in the book is supposed to be like the Kardashians or Paris Hilton’s voice. 🤷🏼‍♀️

“Why do these people speak in such a high pitch? Why do their jaws barely open when they talk? Why do the ends of their sentences go up as if they're asking a question? Odd vowels, clipped words, and always a hiss on the letter s. no wonder it's impossible not to mimic them.” Like this is a pretty good description of how Kim Kardashian and her sisters talk. And Suzzy C did say she was inspired by the juxtaposition between war news footage and ridiculous reality television shows so... I think my theory of the Capitol all talking like they’re on the Real Housewives of LA is pretty valid.

Just imagine Paris Hilton as Effie and Nicole Richie as one of her preps

Lolololol this whole section of waxing is reminding me to go get my legs waxed 😭😭😭 straight up calling me out here, Suzanne

I like how Katniss says her stylist “apparently has no interest in seeing her until the prep team has addressed obvious problems.” Like you can tell from her narration she was expecting to feel the same was about Cinna that she does about Effie and her prep team.

The “gritty loam that takes off dirt and three layers of skin” is probably just a strong exfoliator 😭😭😭 my girl knows nothing about quality skincare 🤧🤧 someone build a Panem Sephora

She mentioned them waxing her underarms.... girl, did you have hairy armpits before this? Idk why this revelation is new to me

“Grease her down!” Just sounds wrong 😅😅😅😅 I need to stop being annoying omg I’m like a twelve year old

Hmm it’s funny to me that Katniss refers to Octavia as plump. You’d think in a place like the Capitol body image and weight would be very important. Unless it’s like back in the old, old days when being overweight was a sign of wealth. Which would make more sense so this was an unnecessary thought process curtesy of Samantha

Katniss faking a smile and thanking her prep team shows she does know how to play the game and fake it better than she says.

So ... okay, hear me out, I’m not trying to get over the top or make this into something it’s not but ... the whole stylists / Cinna coming into the room and staring at her naked is a little weird. Especially considering Cinna isn’t Lenny Kravitz who’s like a bit older than her but actually like a twenty-something year old dude.

But okay, here’s the thing I was getting at ... Cinna’s one of the best people in this series and you can’t deny that. Even if you find him boring, he’s still one of Katniss’ closest people. Also he’s probably gay. But like ... what about the other stylists? I don’t wanna be that person who makes everything more than it is, but like, this scene just sounds like a perfect opportunity for some Capitol creep to assault a teenager idk I’m probably making a mountain out of a molehill just ignore Samantha okay.

That’s nice that he complimented her mama though 🥰🥰🥰

So Katniss calls District Twelve the least desirable district but ... doesn’t District Eleven suck too? Like she also later says District Twelve is the smallest and the poorest but doesn’t she also say Rue is worse off than her and Prim? Make up your mind, Suz.

Cinna claims he asked for District Twelve but did he really get an option? 😅 If it’s his first year and Katniss claims the newbies get them anyway 🤷🏼‍♀️ Samantha is once again, reading too much into this.

Awww, Katniss is thinking about how long it would take for her to assemble this fancy meal at home 🤧🤧🤧 it would take her days and the Capitol just has the necessary resources at their disposal and they just takes it for granted. And yes, I’m aware this is supposed to be calling all us readers out who take so much for granted I know. We’re the Capitol.

“How would I spend the hours I now commit to combing the woods for sustenance if it were so easy to come by?” It’s honestly so sad but so vital to her character that Katniss has zero hobbies or real free time. Her life is about surviving. She doesn’t get to live or enjoy very much of her time. She dedicates everything to keeping Prim — and her mother — alive, sacrificing everything a teenage girl should be doing. Sacrificing even the things the other girls in her world get to do. She mentions the merchant girls and the Seam girls who are more experienced romantically and sexually and socially than her. Because she doesn’t get to be a kid or innocent or even happy, in order to focus on her and her family’s survival. And the things she does enjoy, like spending time with Gale or dancing with Prim (mentioned in Mockingjay) she downplays in case they’re taken away, because nothing good is secure in her eyes. 🥺🥺🥺

Okay but what did Katniss’ facial expression give away that Cinna knew exactly what she was thinking? Or is she just less emotionless than she and Haymitch both claim? Ironically I think they’re the only people who call her emotionless which can easily be chalked up to their self-hate and terrible self-esteems.

Katniss is so afraid they’re gonna make her be naked for the parade 😭. Honestly though they’re children that’s so creepy that they’re even allowed to make 15/16/17 year olds be naked in a parade. I mean I know they kill kids every year but isn’t there like child pornography laws in Panem? 😭

“You’re not afraid of fire, are you, Katniss?” Is so foreshadowing 😭😂😅😎 Caesar Flickerman’s voice “Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire!”

Honestly though Cinna is smart to make Katniss recognizable in the arena by leaving her with simple makeup. I know and the sky is blue we all know this already beating the dead horses until the farmer comes home.

“It crosses my mind that Cinna's calm and normal demeanor masks a complete madman.” It’s true though 😅😅😅😭😭 he was always a rebel. I actually think he may have asked for District Twelve after Katniss volunteered, because he saw the potential in her. Poor Peeta. Baby, I’m rooting you for even if no one else is.

Also I always found it a bit .... curious? That Peeta had a female stylist and Katniss had a male one? Not just because of the required nudity, you’d just think men would do better as a boy’s stylist and a woman would make a better girl’s stylist. So yes, my whole Cinna was interested in District Twelve because Katniss seemed like a good symbol for a rebellion idea seems very plausible.

I know I know I know I read wayyy too much into this stuff sometimes a cigarette 🚬 is just a cigarette 🚬

Katniss being relieved when Peeta shows up 😭😭😭 because even if she won’t admit it and even if she won’t let herself trust him, she still sees him unconsciously and completely against her will as a comfort because they’re in this thing together in a way, even if they’re supposed to try and kill each other

And honestly, it’s such a like... relatable feeling? To feel alone and nervous and uptight and then someone who you recognize — even if you maybe aren’t even friends with but you at least know — shows up and you just instantly feel less alone. I’m totally looking at this through shipper goggles and I’m not even ashamed you all knew who’s blogging you were reading ight? 😂🤣🤷🏼‍♀️

“He should know about fire, being a baker's son and all.” And he’s gonna learn a lot more about it when he falls in love — for real, falls in love, not a childhood infatuation — with the girl on fire. 🥰🥰🥰

But also, I love this particular line on a reread because it totally is an indicator towards their future. Like Peeta knows about fire, he’s experienced with how to handle it, and later on, he becomes the only person who truly comes to understand Katniss, who represents fire, in a way that no one else could ever imagine.

Hmmm, Katniss’ point of view here, talking about how Portia and Peeta’s team seem all giddy and air-headed and it’s only Cinna who seems reserved makes me rethink my previous imaginings of Peeta’s stylist. Maybe she’s just a Capitolite idiot and nothing like Cinna. And my baby got a raw deal here then too. Good thing Haymitch loves him more. Just kidding 😅😅😅

But also I wanna know why Cinna is hesitant to accept congratulations for his and Portia’s idea? Wasn’t he at least lowkey excited about it when he pitched it a page ago?

Their horses are coal black 🐴 😅. I like that they went the whole nine yards with the theme. Nothing but the best for the kids on Death Row.

Aww Katniss asking Peeta what he thinks about being set on fire is so sweet and pure for some reason. I just find their commodore here cute ok

“I'll rip off your cape if you'll rip off mine” this is literally their first friend type of interaction and it’s so pure y’all leave me be I’m emotional for them

🙃 Also lowkey reminds me of “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” Everyone look away ok I’m sorry

Peeta’s shady/annoyed Haymitch comment and Katniss’ joke at his expense 🤣🤣😂🤣😂😂🥲🥲☺️🥲🥲 they’re bonding it’s so presh

“And suddenly we're both laughing.” I hope they laugh a lot together post-canon 🥲🥲🥲. If they can make the other laugh during their terrible circumstances, then they can make the other laugh anywhere. 🤧 Except in Thirteen because he’s hijacked and she’s certifiable and they’re both so used and abused and 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Okay I have to say, Suzanne Collins really builds up a lot for certain events and then just like grazes over the actual action of said event? Like she builds towards the tribute parade but then kind of rushes through off the actual event itself? It’s a common theme in her writing. And I don’t like it at all ngl.

Oh wait she doesn’t actually rush the parade events the paragraph before just looked like she was about to I jumped the gun 🤣😂🤭 but what I said is still completely true for many events in these books sorry not sorry

I’m definitely reading too much into it but the fact that District One — the favorite of the Capitol — gets snow white horses and District Twelve gets coal black horsies kind of ... seems to imply something .... 🤭

Cinna just lets out a sigh of relief “it worked” like ... way to fill your tributes with hope, dude. “Yeah, you’re totally safe, don’t be scared-OH THANK GOD THAT WORKED I wasn’t actually sure you wouldn’t blow up.” But actually this answers my previous inquiry about why he seemed hesitant I guess he wasn’t even sure this wouldn’t burn them up that’s nice 🤭🙃

It’s a literal trial by fire *cue drum hit* 🥁 aww, I just cracked myself up 😭

“Then he gently tucks a hand under my chin. "Remember, heads high. Smiles. They're going to love you!" This is caught halfway between being very Capitol-y and very father-brotherly and idk which way to take it but it’s kind of cute 🤭

“For the first time, I look at him and realize that ablaze with the fake flames, he is dazzling.” This is such a significant line because Katniss isn’t saying Peeta is technically good looking (like when Haymitch said they were decently attractive) or someone else thinks he’s good looking (i.e Gale, her mother and lowkey Finnick) but she’s saying she herself thinks he’s attractive. Girl, your crush is showing.

"I think he said for us to hold hands," says Peeta.” I’m sure Cinna actually did say that but this just seems like a very good opportunity for Peeta to hold the hand of the girl he has a massive crush on. 😭😭😭

Okay Cinna gave a thumbs up so he actually was saying that but can you imagine Peeta’s excitement right now?

I mean, yeahhhh, there’s the certain death looming over him too but like live in the moment, babe. 🥰😘🤗👌🏻

I like that Katniss says the crowd is at first like 😳😳😳 before they start cheering like they’re thinking “what are these backwoods, hillbilly kids doing this year?”

“At first, I'm frozen, but then I catch sight of us on a large television screen and am floored by how breathtaking we look. In the deepening twilight, the firelight illuminates our faces” okay they both have to be pretty naturally attractive people objectively, because you illuminate my face without much makeup and no one is gonna be cheering.

“Remember, heads high. Smiles. They're going to love you! I hear Cinna's voice in my head. I lift my chin a bit higher, put on my most winning smile, and wave with my free hand.” I wonder what the true difference is for Katniss between Cinna and Effie saying this to her? Maybe it’s that Effie is just outright mean to her sometimes whereas Cinna shows her nothing but kindness from the start and expresses sympathy and understanding? It’s probably that he’s already earning her trust versus Effie who’s just cruel I’m not over her comments on the train ok

“I'm glad now I have Peeta to clutch for balance, he is so steady, solid as a rock.” Right from the start, Katniss refers to Peeta as solid and steady. Idk, I feel like this is something that the movies really misses along the way. Katniss wasn’t always strong or confident at all and Peeta, at least publicly, exuded those qualities pretty well. Samantha’s complaining again ™️ 💁🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️

Also this is just outright foreshadowing how Peeta will eventually become her rock. Or that he will be soon painted a rock ... pick and choose which way you wanna go with this. 🤷🏼‍♀️💁🏼‍♀️😅🤣

“As I gain confidence, I actually blow a few kisses to the crowd.” Okay, see I feel like Peeta really gives Katniss confidence in herself. If he’d been there in District Thirteen and they’d done propos together, she probably would have been a thousand times better.

But also this makes me think Katniss actually has it in her to be a charismatic, confident, alluring celebrity. She just chooses not to. 🤗🤗🤗

But this also reminds me of “She has no idea the effect she can have” okay imma move on and stop focusing on every little detail

I say that every chapter 🤧😅

“The pounding music, the cheers, the admiration work their way into my blood, and I can't suppress my excitement.” Say whatever you want, Katniss is still such a girl underneath it all. She gets excited over people liking her and cheering her on. And I know it’s because it increases her chances of getting sponsors but still

Honestly Peeta trying to showcase Katniss and let her take the spotlight is so selfless and indicative of his ultimate plan to help her win but also ... I can see how Katniss would believe it’s too good to be true and he’s messing with her. That he’s just playing the game to earn her trust, get her guard down and manipulate her later.

See, Peeta is actually framed at the start like the typical, standard YA love interest turned villain. In majority of YA books, at this point the boy is kind and sweet and helpful to the girl until she trusts him completely and then he turns on her and uses everything she gave him to destroy her. But the difference is, Katniss refuses to truly trust him and she is guessing his game incorrectly at every step. And then it’s revealed that it was never a game and he truly isn’t messing with her and everything he’s done that’s seem too good to be true and not even remotely plausible has actually been genuine and heartfelt and that, my friends, is why Peeta is above all other YA love interests. Because Everlark is actually the foil to many of the cliches. That was a long speech over some incoherent thoughts I’m so sorry if you suffered through that.

“It's not until we enter the City Circle that I realize I must have completely stopped the circulation in Peeta's hand. That's how tightly I've been holding it.” Awww he is her rock 😭🤧🥺

"No, don't let go of me," he says. The firelight flickers off his blue eyes. "Please. I might fall out of this thing." Okay this part is so cute and so blatantly setting Peeta up as her main love interest omg 😅 this isn’t the least bit subtle or disguised. But first off, the fact that Katniss is also Peeta’s stability here too 😭😭😭 and second of all, she takes time to notice his blue eyes against the firelight? She was attracted to him from the very start, y’all. That’s indisputable. 👌🏻😎🤧

“It's not really fair to present us as a team and then lock us into the arena to kill each other.” I agree with you, baby, it’s not fair at all. But you two take care of that situation nicely. Or not. Y’all do start a dang war. 🤭🤭🙃🙃

It’s rather ... ironic that it’s District Twelve’s chariot of them all that is pulled up and stopped directly in front of President Snow’s mansion. I know it’s a book, certain details like this are definitively contrived, I know get over it. 🤦🏼‍♀️💁🏼‍♀️

So uh. Snow is a small thin man? Why do I suddenly imagine Danny Devito as Snow 😅😅😅😅🤣🤣🤣🤣 y’all know he’d kill the role

“The darker it becomes, the more difficult it is to take your eyes off our flickering.” Okay, this is such a great line and it’s so significant to the rest of the series? The fact that Katniss — and Peeta, let’s not forget our boy — became symbols of the revolution. Like this line is deep if you think about it. The worse things in Panem got, the more the civilians looked towards Katniss and Peeta for hope 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥰🥰🥰🥰

Omg now after Songbirds and Snakes, we know the national anthem. I’m sorry, babies, that you have to endure that I’ll get you out of there 🙉🙉🙉

I feel like in part, the Capitol camera crew — Cressida, Pollux .... Pollux’s brother... is that you here???? — put so much attention on District Twelve because it would create some resentment and competition between them and the careers 🤭🤗

“I notice a lot of the other tributes are shooting us dirty looks, which confirms what I've suspected, we've literally outshone them all.” Insert Gretchen Wieners “I can’t help that I’m popular!” 😅😅😅😅😅

“I realize I'm still glued to Peeta and force my stiff fingers to open. We both massage our hands.” — they were hanging on so tight 😭😭😭😭

“Thanks for keeping hold of me.” He’s so sweet ☺️☺️☺️ I love him even if he’s kind of an idiot sometimes but so is Katniss so let’s not point fingers

“I'm sure they didn't notice anything but you. [...] And then he gives me a smile that seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness” Omg I know Katniss views this as him trying to manipulate her but the fact that he’s actually just admitting the way he’s felt for years is so 😭😭😭😭 if only you’d spit it out sooner, Bready

“he gives me a smile that seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warmth rushes through me.” She literally has a crush on her fellow tribute and her first line of defense is to decide he out to get her for making her feel this way 🤣😭🙃

“The more likable he is, the more deadly he is.” The more my crush grows, the more deadly he becomes. I know I’m reading this with shipper goggles but guess what? I’m unashamed. 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️ who feels guilty for reading this book with an Everlark bias not this girl right here 🙋🏼‍♀️🙋🏼‍♀️🙋🏼‍♀️

“I stand on tiptoe and kiss his cheek. Right on his bruise.” Okay first off, she says cheek here but according to a chapter ago, she claimed the mark was on his jaw... so in other words, she’s incredibly short. If a medium height guy has a bruise on his jaw and she has to stand on her tip toe to reach it... well... hashtag LittleKatniss

And second off.... can you even imagine how Peeta must feel. He genuinely complimented her here, the girl he has had a crush on forever, and she responds by kissing his cheek. He was probably really happy at this moment. And also this probably played further into his buying into her false display in the arena. That here we have her clutching his hand, smiling and laughing with him and kissing his cheek. Idk what I was trying to say necessarily but I made myself sad wow way to go me 🥺🥺🥺🥺🤧🤧🤧

Anyways! Those are my very over the top and too detailed thoughts! Hope you enjoyed if you read this! 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳😎😎😎😎😎😎😎🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

#thgagain #once again the Jen gifs are still headlining these posts 🥳🥳🥳 #this isn’t as funny as my others so I’m sorry y’all #but I like nice commentary on these posts makes me feel less alone so feel free

[only-here-for-jatp]

The Secret Chord pt 3

I am very thrilled with my poetic serious title and my chaotic mess of chapter titles that don’t do the title justice.

Anyway this entire chapter is Nick-centric and contains some negative self-talk so if you have difficulty with that (like I do) proceed with caution and stay safe and okay pretty please.

Also, we stan Carrie in this house thanks.

Read it on Ao3 here

And also below! ~2100 words

Nick was pretty sure this was a terrible idea.

It’d seemed like a great idea last night when he was watching Julie and the Phantoms at the Orpheum. The music was loud, and the crowd was electric. The bass kept up a steady rhythm pounding in sync with his heartbeat and it joined the audience into one body perfectly in sync. He’d felt so alive as if all of his nerve endings were firing at once. His joy came out as an endless ache while he watched Julie perform her heart out, her own enthusiasm evident in every note and movement.

She shone so bright on that stage, more so than anyone he’d ever seen. He’d long since known of her grit and determination, the perks of being in school together since elementary school. Over the years he watched as the little girl with the big voice and no fear stood up to bullies, teachers, and during what came to be known as Fallout 2016 her (ex)friend Carrie.

Julie held her head up so high as she walked through the hallways and he was in awe of her even then. There were still some things he was still working out about himself and she was so unapologetically herself. He’d often wished for her bravery to be that strong.

At the same time, he watched Carrie struggle to keep her head above water. Her dad loved her, but he was absentminded and often off on the road or some tour or party or something, leaving Carrie alone in that big empty house. Before there’d been the joy and laughter of Julie and Flynn echoing in the hallways, but now she sat alone in her thoughts.

It was almost imperceptible to anyone who didn’t know Carrie, after all she’d always been a little rough around the edges, but Nick watched her harsh mask develop. He watched her use deflection and bravado to hide her fraying internal state. Nobody seemed to notice her growing intensity and focus on Dirty Candi, but it seemed like someone needed to do something.

Admittedly his feelings crept up on him. At first, he’d started small interactions as a friendly gesture. Little things like a smile or a wave so he could try to communicate somebody saw her. While she seemed a little confused at first, she soon started flashing him a smirk and a friendly sarcastic comment. Rather quickly their friendship grew, it turned into long conversations at lunch or studying together in the library. What started out as concern turned to pride and warmth as he watched this girl who hurt so much use her unwavering force of will (and a little pink glitter) to get up and meet each day with a take no prisoners attitude.

Once he saw her perform for the first time, he was a goner. That little smirk just did something to his insides. He asked her out and he was happy. They were happy.

Until Julie’s mom died. Whatever fallout might have happened between her and Julie, Carrie loved Rose. She’d been the closest thing Carrie ever had to a mother, and the loss hit her hard. Nick knew Julie would’ve granted her a temporary truce and welcomed Carrie with open arms to grieve. He was even pretty sure Carrie knew deep inside herself somewhere too, but the walls she’d built were too high and too wide to bring them down.

Nick did his best to be there for Carrie, but he knew he wasn’t what she needed. She needed Julie and the Molinas, but it wasn’t going to happen. Not yet. Instead her unresolved feelings ate at her morphing into jealousy and anger and acid. He watched this beautiful typhoon of a girl let the acid and anger consume her. Defenses and walls started going up against him too, until she treated him as little more than an accessory or a chess piece in her one-sided match against Julie Molina.

Beautiful burning Julie Molina who after a year of retreating into a cocoon, hiding from the world and her pain burst onto the stage like a firework. She maintained her grace and inner fortitude whatever the world, or Carrie, threw her way. Above all else though, she was kind. After months of being treated like a doormat, he craved the kindness and gentle protective ferocity that was Julie Molina.

He knew he followed her around like a lost puppy, but even if he couldn’t be with her just being around her made him feel like he could do anything. Be anything, even himself. Her music lived and breathed inside him, the words filling him up and offering him a lifeline when he didn’t even know how close he was to drowning.

He ached to return the favor of her steady reassurance and unconditional acceptance and support. She was incredible and she deserved to know. If he could emulate her even just a little bit, he wanted to try, wanted to practice being like Julie Molina.

Of course, this was how he found himself pacing the sidewalk for twenty minutes, gathering the courage to bring her these flowers. It shouldn’t be this hard. Flowers were a regular post-performance kind of gift. I mean, he did have a crush on her, but she seemed to be into her guitarist? Would she think he was creepy or weird or persistent? He didn’t want to scare her off. Maybe this was a bad idea. He probably didn’t have a shot with someone as incredible as her anyway. He’d like to think he stood a chance since her guitarist was a hologram, but the way they looked at each other….

What did it matter? These flowers were not crush flowers. He would’ve gotten her Dahlias for that. These were simply good job flowers. They’d performed at the Orpheum! That was a big deal. This is fine. This is normal.

A small burst of confidence propelled him forward while he gave himself a mental pep talk in his head. Later he would kick himself for not being more aware of his surroundings, but to be fair no one really expects a tall, mysterious demon man to sneak up behind them.

Yet here he was staring at this man in some steam punk adjacent costume, a smug plastic grin on his face and a mildly threatening atmosphere. He’d rang the doorbell, but he hoped Julie didn’t walk out here while this creep was still around.

“How sweet. The brokenhearted teenager fighting for his girl.”

Nick was taken aback. For one thing, brokenhearted was not the right word. He was hopeful. For another- “Do I know you?”

“No, but you will.”

Nick didn’t even have a chance to react before Caleb’s hands were around his neck. It felt like fire was racing through his veins, consuming him. He couldn’t move, his arms spread wide, but his insides struggled against the invasion. Thrashing and shrieking he screamed inside his mind.

It started in his fingertips and toes, his body feeling like it was too crowded. Like something was growing and pushing him out. He fought so hard trying to stretch and stand up to the purple smoke that was blinding and dividing him. Yet he was losing the battle with every moment. Feeling himself getting shoved and squeezed until he couldn’t feel his arms or his legs or the breaths he took or the beating of his own heart. Until he couldn’t feel the weight of his own tongue.

The world went quiet first. Then it went dark.

Nick came to in a room of boundless dark. He thought about being afraid, but it wasn’t a place where things lurked. He could tell it was just empty. A brief glance showed that he could see himself, slightly translucent maybe, but still there. The space seemed to go on forever and the longer he looked the more anxious he became. His eyes darted from space to space, but it was a never-ending sea of nothingness.

A voice echoed around him, making the world rumble and shake. “Now now, Nicholas. My name is Caleb and it’s nice to meet you.”

“Who are you!? What do you want!? Where am I!?” Nick shouted at the disembodied voice, hearing the fear and trembling in his tone and wishing desperately for the confidence and bravado typically attributed to jocks. What he wasn’t prepared for was the jolt that through him.

The pain stabbed in his gut and it felt like it was ripping him open, piece by piece. He fell to his knees with a scream, doing his best not to sob as the feeling lingered. Caleb laughed before continuing. “tsk tsk tsk. I am speaking, you just need to listen. I am… borrowing your body for the time being. This little lifer girl and her trio of ghostly boy band made a fool of me. And NOBODY defies my will and gets away with it.”

“What does that have to do with- aghhhh” Nick couldn’t hide the sobs as another jolt shot through him.

“Yeah, I’m going to need you to be a fast learner Nicky-poo. I’m in charge and there’s literally nothing you can do about it. Just sit there and be quiet and maybe I’ll return your body back in one piece. Besides you may not know what I’m talking about, but you’re close with that lifer brat Julie. Her ghosties would never let me get close, you on the other hand, well they can’t stop you.”

Nick felt icy terror roll through him. Julie? This madman demon was after Julie? “No” he wheezed. He kept repeating the word as if it would give him power as he progressively got louder until he was standing and screaming it into the void, damn the consequences. “NO. I won’t let you hurt her.”

Another jolt ripped through him as an invisible force knocked him back. The laughter seemed to echo around the space reverberating into an endless mocking loop. “You? You won’t let me? What exactly are you going to do Nicholas? After all, you couldn’t even defend yourself against me. What makes you think you’re capable of doing anything at this point to stop my plans?”

Nick sagged against the ground. There wasn’t anything he could do. His insides felt hollowed out as hopelessness descended upon him. Useless. He was absolutely useless.

“There you go! Now you’re getting it. Anyway, this is the inside of your head and it can be manipulated into whatever I want. Behave and I’ll make sure it’s somewhat comfortable, continue to fight and defy me and I’ll make sure you relive your worst nightmares. Got it?”

Nick nodded, curling up on himself in defeat. If only he’d stayed home today.

“Good, now I just need to borrow your memories real quick and we can get this show on the road. After all, I have a fight too.”

It felt like someone was slicing his brain into pages and flipping through it like you would a book or a deck of cards. He’d grabbed his head at the pain and briefly resisted before giving into the feeling. It was almost like he could feel the fingers turning through the pages. Flipping through his life as if it were nothing. As if he were nothing. He hoped Caleb got a cosmic papercut.

And then for a brief shining moment there was nothing. No Caleb, no jolts, no rummaging through his psyche, no noise. No world. Unfortunately, what looked like a big screen popped up in front of him. Was that the Molina’s house? Were these his eyes? He almost couldn’t watch as Julie opened the door. Then there he was again. Alone in the dark vastness of nothing. He let out an empty laugh. Of course, he was. That was him, always alone. Always hiding. Unable to make any true impact on the lives of the people around him. He’d failed to help Carrie battle her darkness and Julie certainly never needed him.

He wondered briefly if anyone would even notice if he was gone. If anyone would even realize this thing that occupied his body was using him like a puppet. He doubted it. No one ever managed to make it past his walls. No one ever viewed him as more than as that blonde lacrosse player, or Carrie’s boyfriend.

He was as unseen and unheard in here as he was for every other moment of his life.

The disembodied voice never said anything, but Nick was sure he could feel Caleb roll his eyes and mutter “teenagers”. Suddenly a couch poofed into existence and Nick settled into it, finding it oddly comforting. He curled himself around a pillow that he’d dragged into his lap, ready to watch his life spin out of his control.

#jatp #Julie and the Phantoms #Jatp fanfic #The Secret Chord #Nickaleb

[emybain]

nodrian headcanons where they get to live slightly normally/where they get to take a little break from reality and just be "normal"

this was super fun to write! im a little bitter that they never got an actual, honest date in the series, so I decided to take that into my own hands. hope you like it:)

CONTAINS SUPERNOVA SPOILERS

    Change is good. Change is good. Change is good.

    Those three words were on a loop in Nova’s head. She stared at herself in the mirror, torn between liking the clothes on her body and wanting nothing more than to rip them off and put on leggings and a sweatshirt. It was nothing fancy, just a pair of acid washed jeans with a plain white t-shirt. She dressed it up a little bit with a necklace Honey had given her years ago and her father’s bracelet. The biggest issue was the bandana in her hair; Ruby had convinced her to buy it a few weeks ago because Nova liked the pattern. It was a simple light blue silky fabric with tiny pink flowers here and there. It was pretty, that was all. But Nova had seen how other girls had started wearing bandanas as hair accessories, and she kind of liked that, so she was now debating whether or not to keep the one she had bought tied in her hair. 

    She was going out on a date with Adrian for the first time since the Supernova and since they decided to break up to give one another time and figure things out. A couple weeks ago, he had  casually mentioned that he was ready whenever she was, but he would wait for her. That had terrified her, honestly, and it wasn’t until a few days ago that she sent him a text telling him that she was ready, too. 

    Her therapist, a nice older lady named Liza, suggested the other day Nova do something to step outside of her comfort zone, like wearing something she normally wouldn’t wear. Change could be a good thing. She didn’t have to step too far out, but maybe baby steps at first. Like instead of wearing leggings, wear a pair of jeans. Or put on a small piece of jewelry. Or wear a color a shade lighter than normal. 

    There was a knock at her apartment door. Nova cursed and looked at herself once more in the mirror. She bit her bottom lip, hoping that maybe that would bring some color back into it. She sprayed herself with perfume and then left her room, grabbing her bag on the way out. 

    Adrian smiled at her when she opened the door, eyes widening as he looked her up and down. A blush crept onto her cheeks.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

There was a short pause, borderline awkward, before he said, “You look nice,” then held out an arm. “Ready to go? There’s this new restaurant in the historic downtown that I think you’d love.”

    Feeling a rush of boldness, Nova grabbed his hand instead, lacing their fingers together. His smile brightened, and he squeezed her hand. “Ready.” 

__________

    Nova had only been to the old downtown a few times in her life. It used to be pretty rundown and sketchy, but in recent years, there had been a revival in the area. Now there were little coffee shops, antique stores, pubs, boutiques, and more spread out over one main and four side streets. The streets had been redone as well, paved with brick like how they used to be back in the day. The only modes of transportation allowed were by foot or by cheesy horse-drawn carriages. The area was like a little bubble away from the rest of the city. And it was stunning in the evening, as everything was lit up. 

    Dinner had been wonderful. Adrian took her to a burger place designed like an old-timey diner; there was even a jukebox that played music from another era. They had talked and laughed as they always did, as if nothing had really changed. After all, Adrian was still Nova’s best friend, and they had always kind of known that they would get back together one day, so nothing was awkward. The only thing that was different now than it had been in recent months was that Adrian sat beside her in their booth and held her hand, absentmindedly tracing her fingers. He even got bold enough to reach a hand down beneath the table to rest on her knee at one point while they ate. Nova never once protested at his affections. 

    Now they were strolling down the sidewalk, sharing an ice cream in a cup with two spoons. Adrian’s jacket was still resting on her shoulders from when she got cold in the restaurant. 

    “I’ve been talking with the people in weapons,” Nova said, licking her thumb as a little bit of ice cream dribbled down onto it. “They’re really interested in some of my designs, how they’re better for every day crime instead of targeting prodigies-”

    “No Renegade talk,” Adrian said sternly, although there was humor in his eyes. He nudged her lightly. “Remember what we agreed on?” Right. They had agreed to not bring up the Renegades or the Council or the government or anything like that. They would have a normal date as normal teenagers and not as superheroes who were known worldwide. 

    Nova rolled her eyes and pushed him back. “Fine, bossy. What do you want to talk about?”

    Adrian didn’t answer for a minute, although Nova could feel his intense gaze on her. “Your birthday’s coming up, right? May…?”

    “27th.” Nova nodded. “But it’s March, Adrian.”

    “It’s still coming up.” He shook his head with a slight laugh. “Are you going to do anything?”

    She shrugged. “I don’t think so. Maybe go out to eat with the team, or Ruby might force me out of my apartment to do something.” With a tiny glance in his direction, she added, “Maybe have a date with my boyfriend.”

    He stopped in his tracks, and they had to move to the edge of the sidewalk as to not block the pathway. He looked down at her, joy clearly written in his features that he was trying so hard to school. Nova bit her lip to hide her grin, although it wasn’t working too well. 

    “Are you saying you want to be my girlfriend, Nova Artino?” She could’ve sworn he puffed his chest out a bit, maybe even raised his chin a bit higher. 

    “Not anymore.” She snorted and pushed him away. Noticing that their ice cream was gone, she grabbed it out of his hands and threw it out in the trash can beside her. Then, she turned to leave him, jokingly of course. As expected, he pulled her back to him, arms encircling her waist. Her laughter died in her throat, but her smile remained. 

    “Yes,” she answered honestly this time. “Let’s make it official.”

    “Are you ready for that?” The look he gave her was so sweet, so sincere. It only made Nova love him more. “It won’t be easy, at least with the public knowing about us. And I don’t want to rush you if you need more time.”

    Nova shook her head firmly. She had noticed all night the looks people gave her, the confusion and elation and anger from all different kinds of faces at the sight of her with Adrian Everhart. Some probably still thought she hated the Renegades. Some saw hope at an Artino and an Everhart coming together out of love. Some were upset that a former villain should be allowed a chance at redemption and happiness. But she had been given those looks for months whenever she was in public with one of her friends, especially Adrian. She still wasn’t used to it, maybe she never would get used to it, but it had gotten easier. 

    “I want you, Adrian Everhart.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “All of you. And if that includes nosy people,” she shrugged, “then so be it. I won’t love you any differently.”

His hold on her waist tightened. He reached a hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, then let it rest on the back of her neck as he leaned down. Nova met him halfway, heart fluttering when he murmured so softly, just loud enough for her ears alone, “I’m so in love with you, Artino.” 

The kiss was short and sweet, nothing more than a few gentle pecks. It had been a while since they had kissed, and Nova had to restrain herself from jumping in his arms and kissing him like there was no tomorrow. She knew, however, that they couldn’t. For one, they were in public. And two, there was probably a reporter hiding somewhere, camera at the ready. Nova wouldn’t be surprised if she found photos of her date with Adrian the next day, with their kiss blown up for the world to see. 

But she didn’t care. Not in that moment. 

__________

Adrian drove her home. 

They sat in his car for a while, just talking. It was more private here. Nova allowed herself to be a bit more open with him, playing with his fingers as he recounted what Max had done the other day that got him grounded for a week. 

“But my dads can barely keep the grounding serious.” Adrian shook his head in amusement. “Especially Hugh. They seem to ‘forget’ that Max is in trouble when he’s watching TV.”

Nova rolled her eyes. “I’m just glad to hear he’s adjusting okay, and that he’s not always a wise old man. It’s good for him to get in trouble.” 

“I know.” Adrian chuckled. “But that still doesn’t mean I won’t preach the injustice with all the times I was grounded for doing the littlest of things.” 

“You’re not exactly innocent, Mr. Everhart.” Nova narrowed her eyes at him. “You’ve had a few secrets up your sleeve. Literally.” 

She tried to maintain her neutral expression as Adrian shifted his body a bit closer. “Oh, we’re going to play that game, huh?” 

“I’m just saying,” she started, smile creeping onto her lips, but her defense was soon forgotten when he placed a hand on her cheek. Instinctively, she leaned into his touch. “But none of that matters anymore, right? No more secrets.”

Adrian’s lips quirked up. Her eyes were immediately drawn to them. “No more secrets,” he repeated softly. Leaning forward, he placed a kiss on her cheek. “Skies, I’ve missed you, Nova.” He pulled back a bit to face her. “I know we agreed that breaking up was for the best, and being just friends while figuring this shit out helped a ton, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t also agonizing to not be able to be with you in that way.”

Nova rested her forehead on his, feeling her neck heat up. “I missed you, too,” she murmured. “But now we have mostly everything figured out.” She paused. “I meant it when I said earlier that I’m ready.”

He kissed her, slow yet not long enough. “You’re so beautiful, Nova.”

Nova beamed against his lips and kissed him back, a bit harder than before. He responded with enthusiasm; the hand on her cheek pulled off her bandana and reached back to dig into her hair. She melted under his touch, becoming completely putty in his arms. It was hard to keep her composure. After all, it had been months since she had been this intimate with someone, as Adrian was her last. 

His lips wandered down to her throat, leaving her trembling. When he was sly enough to gently pull her skin in between his teeth, Nova couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped her mouth. As her hand trailed up his back underneath his shirt, she had a brief thought to invite him in to watch a movie or something. It wasn’t too terribly late, and they still had a lot of catching up to do. But then she felt his fingers graze her hip and rest just underneath her bra as he rose back up to kiss her deeply, and suddenly she wanted nothing more than to be lost in Adrian Everhart. 

However, they were in his car outside her apartment complex. His windows didn’t exactly grant them privacy. Really, it wasn’t the most romantic setting for their activity. 

Sighing against him, she broke the kiss. His eyes blinked open in surprise, chest rising and falling as heavily as hers. He frowned at her.

Before he could start asking questions, Nova brought a hand to push his glasses up. Her fingers may or may not have accidentally brushed his lips when her hand fell to his cheek. She tried to catch her breath even as she spoke.  “How about we go inside where it’s more...appropriate? Watch a movie, maybe?” 

Adrian glanced at their surroundings and nodded. They shared a sheepish smile, then headed inside. 

They weren’t an hour into the movie before they passed out on the couch cuddling, nothing but a tangled mess of blankets and limbs.

#renegades #archenemies #supernova #supernova spoilers #Adrian everhart #nova artino #nodrian #osby #tuckva #ruby tucker #danna bell #Oscar silva #anarchists #max everhart #my writing #asks

[songbird-berry]

RACHEL AND QUINN HEAD CANON 

SUNDAY AFTERNOON MARCH SOMETIME

Rachel is actually terrified. She’s not seen her since high school and their relationship then was not that great or healthy

But she is taken away by how beautiful Quinn still is “my chariot awaits!”

I love that Q will, at least internally, just be like "I am genuinely A MESS why are you looking at me like I'm still in a cheerios uniform?"

Rachel just kind of looks down at the ground and focuses on her breathing for a moment “it wasn’t about the Cheerios uniform”

And rachel places her bags on the back and sits.

Coffees in a tray on her lap

Quinn just doing the eyebrow raise and driving up to the house without a comment. Probably doesn't talk at all until they get into the house.

“Are you up for eating?”

"Leftovers will last me for a few hours."

Breathes and makes herself at home placing coffee on kitchen counter and just placing the whole bag in the fridge. “Black coffee is okay I hope?”

"Yeah, it's easiest to drink coffee black on tour anyway."

“It’s nice to see you again Quinn.” And she just hands her the coffee and looks expectantly hoping she’d lead them in the direction of somewhere more performing then the  of the kitchen

Quinn just smiles awkwardly and takes the coffee before just leading Rachel to her bedroom. It's definitely a mess, but the bed is freshly made. She sets the coffee down on the side table and takes off the hoodie, tossing it on a chair in the corner and climbing onto her bed. She's probably wearing a tank top.

Rachel takes off her own jacket and takes a few sips of her coffee before placing it next to Quinn’s. “I’m going to sit down on the bed, okay?” And she does not too close to Quinn but close enough

Quinn nods, grabbing her coffee and taking a few sips, nestling it in her lap. She has various scars on her arms, all of different types.  "It's getting harder to detox. To come down. To be a person again.  And no one wants to treat the trauma without me clean and sober, but I can't do that. I tried once. I really fucking tried."

“Maybe don’t do it cold turkey.”

She reaches over to take her hand, giving it a squeeze

“Baby steps and accepting support “

She sighs. "It's getting harder because I'm giving up." Her words are quiet. "I've been doing this shit for over a decade now. I've tried stopping so many times, and I can do it for a few months at a time, but without a way to treat the trauma... I just go right back to it."

“You don’t have to give up or give in”

She scoffs, taking a long drink of her coffee. "I'm just tired of fighting it."

Rachel just kind of squeezes Quinn’s hand tighter gasping a little at that admission. “Being tired makes everything so hard but if you start accepting help for things. Even if they’re little. You won’t feel so alone. You’ll be able to keep fighting a little longer. You’ll be surprised what time can do even if it feels like it’s been so long already.”

Aka she wants to say “I am magic and you haven’t let me in your life before now” but doesn’t wanna scare her

"Everyone I know has their own fucking shit to deal with. They don't need mine too. Fucking Frannie it's finally healing from so much and I don't want to be why she stops or backslides. Pretty sure Liv is helping with that, though not entirely sure how. Bea is going through lord only knows what right now. There's not a lot of spare help to go around."

“If you’d let me...I can help.” She thinks it might even help her but it’s not really about that as much as it is wanting to help Quinn find what she needs

"You're out of here in what, a month? Besides, you have work. You don't need to be worrying about me too."

“You think transforming into Elphaba every night is work?”

"Legally speaking, yes."

Rachel laughs, “We have a month and I have very little to do outside of performing every night.”

"That doesn't mean you should be spending it worrying about a fucked up rockstar who literally made your teenager years a living hell, for funsies."

“I don’t believe it was for fun.”

Quinn shrugs. "I don't know, I got a kick out of it sometimes."

“And so do I but that’s besides the point.”

“I think you can trust me. I think part of you already does. Let me help you.”

"What happens when you're gone? What happens when the tour moves on and you go with it? Distance is the very reason I knew I could get away with drug usage without Frannie worrying. I can't imagine I won't be inclined to pull something similar."

“I don’t know.” And she just kind of let’s go of Quinn’s hand

“A month is a long time.”

She shakes her head. "No, it's not."

“So you just want me to give up then because you’re ready to?”

Groans. "No, I want you to be fucking realistic about it! You'll be gone in a fucking month and I'll still be here. Or I'll head back out to Cali. Either way, it's stupid to think I'll change so much in a month that I won't just go back to doing what I always do. Bury it, lie about, and get fucked up next chance I get."

“Then come with me and travel when work make you”

Crazy talk Berry

"Nope. No. Not happening. Bad idea times about a million."

“I have nothing else.”

Sighs. "You're not supposed to. I'm not your problem."

“I don’t see you as a problem.”

"That's your first mistake then. Because I am. I always have been."

“In your eyes maybe.” And she grabs her hand again to squeeze before excusing herself. Rachel makes it to the kitchen before the tears of frustration start creeping and she’s stuck breathing and fighting them before grabbing water for both of them and going back to the bedroom . She’ll drink a lot of hers before sitting back on the bed “let me lay with you”

“Please.”

Quinn just sits there, drinking her coffee really confused cos she really is just so used to people seeing her as the problem. Even if they don't mean to. She's fucked up and to everyone else it doesn't look like she's trying to change even if she is. Shit is just hard, but god forbid the pretty white girl with the rich family and the amazing music career have actual fucking problems. And I almost don't think she expects Rachel to come back, so when she does, she doesn't look at her. In fact she probably avoids the concept all together, even as she sets her mostly empty coffee aside and moves to curl up under the covers.

Rachel is aware she made the wrong move in walking away. That’s usually how it seemed when she took care of herself first. “I won’t give up on you Quinn. I never did.”

Probably just scoffs as she buries her head into her pillow cos she's definitely trying not to cry.

Rachel just kinda warns that she is going to hold her now and lies down and embraces her

She definitely like inches away at first, cos again weakness around people is not her forte but she does end up just crying, curled in on herself.

Rachel just moves with her. She’d move if Quinn like told her to but her inching away is a defense and Rachel knows it

Rachel is stubborn as usual

“I’ve got you”

She eventually rolls over and just buries herself against Rachel instead which I think is genuinely something she's only ever done to people like Frannie or Arin, people who she trusts wholeheartedly because they've been the only ones to ever hold her.

and rachel just holds her close rubbing her back and focusing on not just saying what her brain is yelling at her.  She just wants to be there for Quinn in the moment

“I’m here, okay?”

That definitely just makes her cry harder, honestly. She's so bad at being cared for but also physically can't stop if she wanted to. Like it definitely takes a really long time for her to stop crying and even when she does she definitely just stays buried into Rachel, cos I think some part of her is genuinely scared that if she lets go Rachel will leave.

I don’t think Rachel moves, she just holds her and rubs her back and like whispers sweet nothings into her hair or something cause she can’t help herself but doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable either

Quinn eventually calming down but her brain just refuses to function properly so she ends up saying, "You suck" even as she just curls further into Rachel, cos she definitely kinda blames Rachel for the crying so obviously it is Rachel's fault and thus Rachel is the one who sucks, but she really also definitely doesn't mean it.

“I know.” And she giggles a little, pulling her in tighter.

"You realize you didn't deserve the hand you were dealt either, right?"

"Now, sure. But over twenty years of abuse doesn't change the fact I treated other people that same way."

"You want to change. You have changed."

"Doesn't mean I don't owe you the apology anyway. That I don't owe you acknowledging what I did and that it was wrong."

"I forgive you Quinn. Okay?"

Presses a soft kiss to Rachel's neck. "Okay."

"Do you need anything?"

"Kinda feel like I need sleep again. But like, not really, no."

"Let me rub your back?"

"M'kay." Totally just has her face  buried into Rachel's neck, placing random soft kisses.

Rachel will just hum and rub her back until they fall asleep or Quinn wants her to stop

Quinn deffo falls alseep

rachel will too lulled by the sound of quinns breathing

how late do you think they should sleep LOL. I feel like at least a few hours have passed since rachel got there, like 11-1 range they fell asleep

I feel like Quinn set an alarm on her phone so that she knew Rachel would be able to get to the theater in time, which is probably and hour and a half before showtime, but whether they sleep that long or not idk

i can see it happening to be honest. rachel is tired. she sleeps a lot lol so shes pretty stoked quinn is so snuggly

They totally wake up to the alarm and Quinn just groans and buries her face into Rachel because she's comfy

I don't think Rachel realized how hard it would feel to wake up when this is like a dream come true, being held and in the arms of Quinn Fabray. But waking up is already so hard. "We can just roll  back over and go back to sleep."

"No." Grumbles but gets off her. "You have work. hat is the Rachel work alarm."

“I don’t want to leave this moment.”

"You have to leave soon, or you'll be late. And I will not have you be late. Not because of me."

“I need to shower.” And she’ll like sadly untangle herself and sit up

"Bathroom is over there? You can borrow some of my plainer stuff if you'd like to actually change?" Kinda just gestures to the en-suite, not really sure if that's what Rachel meant but also knowing that she didn't particularly factor THAT into her alarm.

“A pair of leggings and a tshirt of some sort would be great if it’s not too much.” She definitely didn’t think any of this through but she doesn’t mind it despite her heart beating fast “I’ll be right out” and she’ll shower and do all that

She’ll come out wrapped in a towel

Quinn just humming and going to dig through her closet. Rachel probably comes back to like ten different fucking options (because tbh if she's not hanging out in sweats she's hanging out in leggings cos bby likes to be comfy) and Quinn sat on the bed playing with a Switch or some other handheld gaming device cos it makes for easy entertainment on tour.

Rachel thinks it’s cute but just grabs a simple black pair and let’s say one of Quinn’s band shirts were in the mix and Rachel chooses that before going off to change

Q owns, and wears, entirely too much of her own merch. She just thinks they're comfy and why would she sell something she doesn't believe in?

Rachel will go into the kitchen once she’s dressed to dip up Quinn a assortment of the things she brought. “You’ll eat, right?” She says as she brings it in to the bedroom. “At some point while I’m gone at least?”

Quinn just smiles. "Yeah, I'll probably eat a little, shower, then finish eating. Then y'know go shopping."

“It’s the perfect plan. I need to call an Uber. I can come back if you need me.”

And there’s like

So much ache in her voice like please need me

"You're still coming over tomorrow, aren't you?"

“Is that still what you want?” And she’s dealing with the Uber now so she doesn’t have to look at Quinn when she answers.

“Like we planned?”

"Is there a reason I shouldn't?" Like she's probably hiding behind her switch so she doesn't have to look at Rachel.

“You might feel like changing your mind once I leave.”

"And why would I do that? I still haven't gotten to do with you what I want."

Rachel can’t help but flush, “I know where you live now.”

"That you do."

"What time do you want me?"

"Maybe around lunch?"

“Do you want me to dress up for you?”

"Short skirt, underwear optional, it'll come off soon enough anyway. Everything else is on you. Or well, it will be, for a while."

“I look forward to it Quinn.” And her eyes light up her whole face really does when she smiles.

Quinn smiles softly. "So do I." She climbs off the bed and pulls her hoodie on. "I'll drive you back out to the gate."

“The best ride in the city if you ask me.” And she’ll definitely like warn Quinn she’s hugging her when they get to the gate

Before doing it

Quinn just chuckles. "That's definitely not true." She definitely hugs her tight back and presses a kiss to her cheek with a quiet, "Thanks."

#headcanon #headcanons #hc

[rae-gar-targaryen]

of retro-tech and rhapsody [p.p.]

A/N: This is my entry for @starksparker Summer Writing Challenge! Thank you for letting me do this, Kaylee! 

Takes place while Peter and the gang are still at school. I’m ignoring “Endgame” and “Far From Home,” so it’s spoiler-free! Includes references to Peter’s Civil War-era scrounging. 

Prompt: “For someone so smart, you’re an idiot.” 

Pairing: Peter Parker x fem!Reader (I kept her vague enough, sans references to a few hobbies and musical taste).

Warnings: Language. Jumpy plot? So much awkward cotton-candy fluff you may just rot your teeth. Sorry. 

Word Count: 3.4k of baked good simile, teenage awkwardness, and musical snobbery. 

Summary: Dumpster diving wasn’t a good look for most boys. Most of them. But then again, most boys didn’t make you a good, old-fashioned loverboy mixtape.  

**NOT MY GIF!** 

–

Okay, so. Here’s the deal: You most certainly were not the type to gossip. You really weren’t. The clique-ish chatter of your classmates and passersby floating through your ears like the twittering of so many small birds, muffled like cotton balls in your ears. 

It’s not that you were a bad listener. Nah. You actually considered yourself a good listener. You just weren’t that interested in the conversational equivalent of small-dick-energy. Small minds discuss people, so they say… 

Besides, rumors were pernicious. Especially those perpetrated by bored teenagers, the girls’ perfectly-filed nails so much like demon’s talons, the boys’ whispering and snickering like the hissing of snakes. All attempting to perforate your uninterested sensibilities. 

Whatever. Whatever the topic was today, you just weren’t interested. Until– 

“I heard Flash threw him in. What other reason would he smell like a dumpster?”

“Maybe he just doesn’t, ya know, shower?” 

“No way. Flash can’t toss him in alone. He’d need help. Besides, I think he went in there, like, voluntarily.”

“He doesn’t smell. You just saw him coming out of the alley.” 

“Ew. You mean to tell me that Peter Parker is a– a dumpster-diver?” 

The mention of Peter’s name caught your interest. Peter was a tech-type with a seemingly contradictory creative streak. You had often wondered where he had picked up the old school gadgets he sometimes had tucked under his arm as he hurried to and from the science lab or the A.V. room, Ned Leeds in tow, talking a mile a minute about – some thing or another. 

You were almost certain the term “motor mouth” was coined with Peter in mind.  

You turned your head to hear who was talking, only to be met with a table full of Flash Thompson’s hangers-on. 

Of course. Flash Thomson’s weird hate-boner for Peter Parker was well known among your class. And probably the teachers, too. 

You didn’t understand. What was to dislike about Peter Parker? He was perfectly sweet, sweetly smart, smartly perfect. 

Okay, maybe you had a little thing for Peter Parker. But only just a little. You had, what? Two classes together?

Besides, you were too busy for boys. It’s 2k19, for God’s sake. You had soccer, studying for the SATs, you helped out your parents. You liked to read. It’s not that you weren’t interested in the pursuit of a certain sweet, stuttering boy with coffee curls and eyes flecked with gold. 

Dear god. When did you become a poet? Scratch that. When did you become a terrible poet?? Be still your heart, Keats. 

Rolling your eyes, you smacked your empty lunch tray for good measure as you got up, catching the attention of some of Flash’s “Mob.” 

“Maybe you should chill on being trash who trash-talks? You sure you don’t belong in the dumpster?” You replied primly. Not chancing a glance back, or waiting for a snarky response, you turned, dropping your tray in the designated area and walked out. 

Mic drop, assholes.

—

Peter stared after you from his corner table, basking in the glory of your grand exit. He didn’t hear what you had said. But judging by the disbelieving stares that followed you, it must’ve been good. Flash’s hangers-on looked after you, a few then turning their attention to Peter’s table before going back to their lunch, mouths agape.

Um, what? 

Peter had no clue what that could have been about. Whatever it was, he was almost certain he didn’t want to know. Unless– unless it had to do with you. Then he almost certainly did want to know. 

He would crawl over glass if it meant learning more about you. 

Okay, maybe not glass. He did get beat up on the regular, and even super-fast healing and super strength didn’t mean that the sensations that came from small-time ass kickings was enjoyable. 

Mr. Stark told him that finding the girl he liked would hit him like, what was it? Oh, yeah …

“A punch to the gut, Pete. You’ll never see it coming. Not even with that little, uhhhh, tingly little super-sense you’ve got goin’ on.” 

Punch to the gut indeed. Just the sight of you was enough to make Peter stammer, even moreso than usual. Sweat a bit more than usual. Especially today, what with his latest acquisition burning a proverbial hole in his backpack. 

His morning excursion had yielded a perfectly good Walkman. Who would toss that in the dumpster? A little fine-tuning and it should be good to go. He’d been acquiring retro stereo equipment for some time. A little trip to the junk store for a blank cassette, and he was home free. 

His heart sang at the cleverness of his plan. Burning you an old-school mixtape seemed like the perfect way to tell you how he felt. How he’d been feeling since ninth grade bio, making a gradual mental catalogue of your band shirts. Of the books you thumbed through while waiting for class to start. 

Yeah, he knew exactly what was going on that tape. 

“Hey, loser.” Peter whipped his head at the dead-pan to the left, meeting MJ’s shrewd eyes and perpetually downturned mouth from her corner of the table. “What’s up with your stupid moon-face?”

“Uh, what?”

“If you stared any harder at her, you may burn a hole.” 

“I don’t — who? Stared at who?” Peter panicked. Surely MJ couldn’t know. If MJ knew, did that mean he was being obvious? Oh, crap. 

“For someone so smart, you’re an idiot. Lucky for you, I’m not. Just say something. She’s super nice, you know. She’d talk to you.” 

“Thanks, MJ. I think?” Peter’s brow furrowed at the minor insult, which stung less considering it was wrapped in the warm velvet of MJ’s hyper-observant encouragement. 

Just talk to her. Like it was so easy. 

If he played his cards right, he’d let the tape do the talking. Peter loved it when a plan came together. Take down the bad guys, take down his homework, take down this special project, get the girl. 

— 

“Decisions, decisions, all of them wrong,” you hummed to yourself, perusing the sweet offerings through the bakery’s glass dessert case.

You stood under the ambient lighting in your favorite bakery. Post-practice you didn’t smell the best, but you’d put in work. You deserved a treat. RIP to the people behind you in line. 

“I hear the chocolate chip cookies here are the best.” 

You whipped around, only to be met with the cocoa-honey eyes of none other than Peter Parker. A true confectionary masterpiece. Suddenly, the items behind the case seemed less sweet by comparison. And–wait, was Peter Parker actually talking to you about something that wasn’t last night’s reading?

“Um, thanks for the tip!” You cursed yourself for your filler-word of choice. Um, um, um. You cursed yourself again for wearing your sweaty practice gear and grass-stained socks. Of all the times to run into him. “Yeah– I’m more of a lemon bar kinda girl.”  

Shit. Why did you say that? 

Peter just looked at you. 

“Oh.” 

Did he look— crestfallen? Did you offend Peter Parker? Shit, shit.

“What I mean is, I’ll go with your recommendation, but the cookies here are huge. Split it with me?” You offered.

Peter’s head whipped back up, his eyes cola swirls of excitement. His mouth split into a toothy grin.

Dear God. What you wouldn’t given to be the cause of that smile forever. 

Was Peter always literal sunshine? 

You paid for the cookie, breaking off a half and offering him the half in the bag. As you sank your teeth into a mouth full of cookie, the melted chocolate flooding your tongue, you asked, albeit not too politely, given that your mouth was full–  

“So, what are you doing over on this side of town? Don’t you usually go the other way?”

Peter blinked.

Nice one. Now he’s gonna think you’re a creep that, like, watches him leave? God fucking–

“Oh, just running an errand for Mr. Stark. I saw you through the window and thought I’d come say hey!” Peter chirped.

Ah. The Stark Internship. Of course. Peter probably thought you were the biggest idiot for forgetting. Everyone knew he had the Internship after school. Mercifully, Peter either didn’t notice your slight, or he didn’t care.

“What are you listening to?” Peter gestured at the earbuds poking out of the collar of your practice jersey. 

“Bohemian Rhapsody,” you shrugged. “Wanna listen?”

Peter nodded, vehemently. You slipped the buds from the bottom of your shirt, handing one to Peter, the opening piano keys trilling into your ears. Your eyes met Peter’s, and you felt your mouth form a little tip-lipped grin.  

The two of you stayed that way for the duration of the song, munching on your respective cookie halves. You wondered if there had ever been a more perfect moment in all of history? Sure, this was a little rom-com for anyone’s taste, but, hey. 

You would crawl over glass if it meant you got to listen to Queen while basking in the literal warmth of Peter Parker for eternity. 

The song ended, breaking your Freddie Mercury and chocolate-induced haze. Shit. The Stark errand. 

You decided to cut the string and let Peter escape this little interaction. You tugged the earbuds, effectively popping the one out of Peter’s ear. 

“I’m so sorry, Peter. I’ll let you get back to it! Don’t want to keep Iron Man waiting,” you said. “Thanks for the tip, by the way. This cookie is, like, magic.” 

Peter nodded, shuffling his feet a bit. He gave you a wave and bit out a truncated goodbye, shoving his mouth full of the remainder of the cookie as he exited the shop. 

What in the literal fuck. No, not literal. Don’t go there. Did you just share baked goods and an actual conversation with Peter? Did you share headphones with Peter? What is happening today?

If your heart beat any faster, it’d be doing the Roger Taylor drum solo to “Keep Yourself Alive.” If your blood could sing, it would be thrumming a trilled little thrill of your sweet, sugary little interlude.

—

Peter blew back into his apartment like a hurricane, buzzing with whatever that was. 

What had compelled him to speak up? He saw you standing there, looking a literal glowing angel in school colors and pulled-back hair, complete with beautiful post-exercise flush. And he just— he had to say something, MJ’s words ringing in his head. “She’d talk to you.” 

Peter pulled the refurbished Walkman out of his bag, along with a packet of cassette tapes colored neon pink. 

If he was giving you a little retro tech present, he was going full-stop, the neon piece of plastic screaming 1980s, screaming you. 

Fitting the blank cassette into the stereo, he hit “Record.” 

The following day, Peter hustled into school at a time that was, in his humble opinion, way, way too early, meeting Ned in the hallway. 

“Okay, guy in the chair. Did you figure out which locker is hers?” Peter asked.” 

“You know I did.” Ned pressed a slip of paper into Peter’s palm. 

Glancing quickly at the little shred, Peter stuffed it into his back pocket and jogged down the hallway, jimmying the lock on the locker in question until it gave way under his super-strength. As if it would catch fire at any second, Peter tossed the Walkman and tape into the locker, slamming the door shut and taking off down the hallway as quickly as he could, Ned at his heels.

“Smooth, Spider-boy. Smooth,” Ned laughed. 

—

Peter was going to die. 

Days went by. Literal days. Those pressed on into a week, and then two. Peter had heard nothing since dropping the tape in your locker. God, this was a mistake. He’s made a huge mistake. A huge, tiny mistake.

His self-doubt crept in like so many webs, suffocating his better sensibilities. Not that he’d tangled himself in his own webs before. Come on! 

—Okay, it was ONE TIME. And he’d had time to think about his carelessness while waiting for the webs to dissolve. 

But this was different. He was drowning in his uncertainty. Maybe he’d misread that day at the bakery. Maybe you were just being nice. Peter knew he wasn’t entitled to your attention after once interaction. He wasn’t that much of a hyper-masculine dick. 

Oh, shit. 

—

“Yo!” 

You turned, eyes landing on your teammate, Jessica Porter. 

“Jess. What’s up?”

“Hey, I found this in my locker a while ago. I meant to give it to you sooner, but, well–” Jess reached into her bag, pulling out a rectangular hunk of plastic affixed to 1980s-esque headphones. “Your name’s on the sticky note, and on the tape inside. I don’t know how it got to me, but it’s clearly meant for you.”

You took the Walkman from her hands, turning it over. No “From” on the sticky note to indicate who had gifted you this little vintage gem. Affixed to the back with some Scotch tape was the plastic holder for the cassette, the jacket within scrawled with writing that you just couldn’t place. 

“Uh, thanks, Jess. See you at practice?” You walked away, your brow furrowed, your mind moving at a mile a minute. 

After school, you slumped onto your bed. You popped the tape off the back of the Walkman, freeing the case.

As you slipped the jacket out of the case, you hit “Play” on the Walkman, the keyed-up opening to Jukebox the Ghost’s “Everybody’s Lonely” meeting your ears. 

You perused the scrawled writing on the jacket– it was a track list. Next to each track was a little  handwritten note jammed into each line. 

1. “Everybody’s Lonely”– Jukebox the Ghost. Because every song is about love. And because you like Queen.

2. “Radio Gaga”– Queen. Ditto. 

Your heart stopped. No, seriously, should you call 911? This couldn’t be – could it? Did Peter Parker make you an actual mixtape?? Had you hit your head today at practice, or something? The stars in your eyes and little bursts like so many Pop Rocks in your belly were so like happy little interpretations of your veritable disbelief. 

You had shared a Queen song and a sweet moment with Peter two weeks ago. Since then? Radio silence. But now? Radio Ga Ga. This had to be from him, right? Your eyes continued down the list. 

6. “Hong Kong Garden”– Siouxsie and the Banshees. I’d reap the field of rice and reeds if it meant an afternoon with you. 

7. “Humbug Mountain Song” – Fruit Bats. My heart thrums like a shitty hipster banjo solo.

8. “Left Hand Free” – Alt J. You looked so cute in your tour shirt Sophomore year. 

9. “Cover Your Tracks” – A Boy and His Kite. Heart, cover your tracks, the blood that you spill will wash what you lack.

The last song on the list, replete with a mix of everything from Bowie to Fleet Foxes, was—

14. “Given the Chance”– The Kite String Tangle. The note?

“Given the chance, I’d go for it. One step at a time. Will you give me a chance?”

It was then you knew. Peter Parker was pure happiness. A zipping burst of citrus on your tongue with a zing that shot straight to your heart. A powdered sugar kiss-and-touch. Syrupy warmth enveloping your spirits.  This gesture was beyond— well, anything. Your heart felt like so many folded paper birds, fluttering and faint, but solidified with purpose. 

You had words for Peter Parker. 

—

The next day you strode into school with purpose, only to be met with coffee curls awaiting you. Pacing at your locker was none other than Peter Parker. And he looked — panicked?? 

Before you could even say a word, Peter opened his mouth, a jumble of words flying out faster than his lips could form the words. 

“I am so, so sorry. I messed up…”

I messed up. 

Your heart plummeted. Was the tape for someone else? Before you could press, Peter continued, “I– I made you a mixtape. Y-you know, like, an actual mixtape. On a cassette and everything. The only problem is–” He hung his head. “I put it in your locker. Well, not your locker, obviously– I thought it was your locker. 1127? I put it in 1172.” He let out a huff of air at his rushed confession, refusing to meet your eyes, cheeks burning.  “I’m sorry.” 

You blinked. 

“You’re sorry?!” 

Peter looked up at you, quickly, flinching, expecting a tongue-lashing after your outburst. To his surprise, you just laughed. He blinked. Had he misread this so badly?

“Jessica Porter has locker 1172,” you explained. Peter continued staring at you, blankly. What did Jessica Porter have to do with anything?

“Jessica Porter and I have chem together. We’re on the soccer team. She’s super cool,” You explained. Peter remained unmoving, desperate to hear the point and why his apparent faux-paus was so funny to you. 

“Don’t leave me in suspense, here. Because, I’m like.. really, REALLY sorry,” Peter pressed. 

“The point is,” you slung your bag forward and over your shoulder, ripping the zipper open and withdrawing the Walkman. Neon pink cassette tape visible like a flash through the little plastic window. “I got your mix. Jess gave it to me. She thought it was cute, by the way. Sure you didn’t really mean to give it to her?” you teased.  

“O-oh. Cool, uh, but did you think it was cute?”

���Peter,” you sighed. “For someone so smart, you’re an idiot–” 

“MJ said the same thing…” 

“– It wasn’t cute, Peter.” 

His eyes got even wider if possible, the sting of rejection starting to set in– could he possibly have misread the situation so badly? What about your little date? Was it a date? Listening to Queen and eating cookies that day at the bakery? How had MJ steered him so wrong?

 He had done so well on the reading comprehension portion of his PSAT. But reading paragraphs about the migratory pattern of geese was very, very different from reading between the lines when it came to girls his own age. Any girls, really– he had to stop himself. Maybe they were right, maybe he was an idiot– 

“Peter, this is MORE than cute. This is the sweetest, nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. I love it. Your taste in music, you… you get me,” you explained, pressing your hand into Peter’s, pressing the point. He could feel the touch, tingly sensations running through his palm, up his arm, and he swore, straight into his heart. 

Peter changed a glance at you through his lashes, lips splitting into a toothy, Peter Parker grin. 

You hoped he’d only smile at you like that forever. He truly was like the sun, bright and warming the coldest parts of you with the greatest of ease. Filling any hollowness with golden light. His bright eyes sparkled, permanently etched within the golden hour and you swore you forgot how to breathe. 

“Really?”

“I’d give you a chance, Pete. As many as you wanted.”  

Before he could respond, you leaned forward, quickly pressing your lips to Peter’s. It lasted a brief second – a dusting of sugar atop something crisp, sweet and citrusy– before pulling back. Sweet, but all too short, panic splicing through your moment of confectionery bliss that was kissing Peter Parker. 

“Sorry, sorry, Peter. I’m sorry. Was that too forward?? I–”  

You were cut off by Peter, lips firmly meeting yours. Peter’s hands cupped your cheeks, thumbs tracing over the peaks of your cheekbones. Any trace of awkwardness gone, Peter slid his hands from your cheeks — back, back, back— to run his fingers through the hair at the nape of your neck, resting there. The tilt of his lips followed yours, sweet cinnamon heat – persistently welcome and welcomingly persistent. The golden hour indeed. 

Breathless– you were breathless. Could Peter Parker kiss like this always? You wished he would. Look at you, smile at you, kiss you – always. But, um, not with anyone else. Decidedly not. Just you, you hoped. The ebbs and flows of your personhood, the sweet contrast of your personalities, like a discord of so many notes coming together into one cohesive piece. This….

This? This was what rhapsody was. You were just sure of it.

—

So that’s it. I do have a complete playlist made for this story, if anyone is interested, I can send you the link.

Tagging: @starksparker @nappingtopknot @ayeayecaptaingally @andallthatmishigas @ymeradonnadx @hey-its-grey

Special s/o to @tigerlilynoh!

#kayleessummerwc #kaylees summer wc #userkavvy #starksparker #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic #peter parker fluff #peter parker #marvel #spider-man #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x oc #marvel imagine #spiderman fic #writing challenge #of retro-tech and rhapsody #prompt writing #spider-man x reader #spider-man x you #spider-man x oc #spider-man x y/n #spiderman: ffh #sm: hm #spider-man homecoming #far from home #avengers #avengers fic #tom holland

[nellynee]

FowlPlayAU (aka Miraculous Peacock Marinette AU)

Literally no one asked but I don’t care. An AU in which Marinette holds the Peacock Miraculous

This actually developed from a few different threads that I tugged on over the course of a few months.

I guess the starting point for this was probably the season 1 episode “Simon Says” with the very short but profound moment of understanding between Gabriel and Ladybug over the pedestal they both placed Adrien on and the subsequent really, really heavy handed comparisons everyone kept making towards everyone else about who resembled Emilie the most

Basically I thought this episode was the heaviest seed in the narrative of the parallels between Gabriel and Marinette, both fashion career focused workaholics who take way to much responsibility on their own shoulders and get obsessive to the point of destructiveness over their respective, similar love interests, and using those parallels as a point of interest in showing both Marinette's growth as she moves beyond that destructive mentality and towards regarding Adrien as a person and how Gabriel’s “love conquers all” mentality isn’t an inherently positive thing but no. *sigh* no, they needed more screen time for one time characters. It fleshes out the world,yes, but not the characters. LOTS of interesting long term threads were dropped in favor of broadening the cast to try and shoehorn that “kid superhero group” into the show that was originally tossed. Basically I’m saying that I do think Gabriel and Marinette have enough in common to surprise some people, including each other, and I’m a sucker for intergenerational friendships

The second main factor was the small subplot at the time of Gabriel suspecting Adrien of being Cat Noir. I got really interested after “Gorizilla” about what might actually happen if Gabriel did figure out that Adrien was Cat Noir at that point in the series (I have words about Cat Blanc, trust me. No those words aren’t “throw the whole mess out the window” because I actually love it. But many, many words) Going off the heavy handed implications that Emilie was the former Peacock, I thought it would be interesting, and in character, for Gabriel desperately analyze his son’s behavior as Cat Noir, trying to figure out WTF Adrien thinks he’s doing, only to realize that Cat Noir has some pretty obvious affections for Ladybug. This is unacceptable of course, but understandable in a “he’s a hormone ridden, teenage boy, and Gabriel was once too the same sort of boy in love with the same sort of heroin” sort of way. The obvious answer to getting rid of what is the only possible obstacle for his son’s cooperation (I was going off the pilot with the potential of Cat Noir as a Hawkmoth agent because of their familial connections) is to get rid of his affections, and since it has to be shallow, he’s too young and also Gabriel controls his whole life so it can’t be love, then all he has to do is shift his son’s affections. Cue an uncomfortable number of episodes in which Gabriel subtly inserts a B plot into his Akumatized villains by trying to push various girl together with his son in carefully controlled circumstances. Because this is before Kasumi, and again, those nice parallels between Marinette and Gabriel himself, he eventually after trial and error settles on Marinette as the perfect candidate. Thus, we get a series of hilarious situations in which Marinette and Adrien are pushed more and more into high pressure uncomfortable and intimate situations, losing time and ability to turn into their superhero personas as a natural deterrent to power creep and justifying the use of other Miraculous users a lot more. 

I saw someone comment in one of their author’s notes on a fic a long time ago that they hated the trope of Marinette being an emotional Atlas and my instantaneous internal response that that kinda WAS Marinette's character early series, especially the origin episode, and that a lot of the most prevalent fics were written in that time period, and that really intense response from me really stuck. 

Peacock aesthetic. yup, that alone gets an equal piece of the pie 

So yeah, if any of that interests you, keeping in mind that on top of potential sympathy and understanding of his actions, Gabriel is still absolutly a shitty person, then the actual (canon divergent) AU is under the cut.

The actual thing diverts during Stone Heart, in which the moment Marinette decided to become Ladybug for realsies rather than try to faust it off Alya doesn’t happen. Rather than deciding to put on the earings, Marinette distracts the monster enough they can get away. Alya finds the earings, and takes up the Mantle of Ladybug.

This decidedly marks a regression in Marinette. Where as Ladybug, and with Tiki’s constant assurances and influence, Marinette learns to work past her urges to take responsibility for everyone’s emotions, Marinette has now lost that constant companion, and has to deal to with her new best friend’s time being diverted

Cut forward to “Stormy Weather” and Marinette has fallen into a vicious cycle of guilt. The little creature had told her it was her destiny to be Ladybug. And while we know that the situation with Hawkmoth is not much different than it is in canon, Marinette is totally convinced that the only reason Hawkmoth is still around hurting people is because she rejected the call. That guilt has built into a feeling of impotent inadequacy that convinces her that she’s no longer deserving of the Ladybug roll, and so she’s both unable to do anything, and responsible for Hawkmoth still being around. 

The most prevalent of episode changes is Lady Wifi. It’s Marinette who’s akumatized, not Alya, and it’s a fairly traumatizing, but empowering experience for Marinette. 

The ultimate culmination of this is this universe’ “Volpina” episode, where, in the background of main battle events, Marinette gains an understanding of the suspicions that Gabriel might be Hawkmoth, and in the climax of the battle, believing Adrien in danger, she confronts him, confirming his alter ego. 

In a scene I have no time to actually extrapolate on, if your curious, just ask, Gabriel and Marinette come to a tentative understanding. He’ll give her the powers to protect his son, and she’ll actually have some sort of control in her life again. This akumatization takes the form of a faux Peacock Miraculous. 

This marks the first half of her partnership as an antihero with Hawkmoth. (and yes, I do have the mechanics of how he can akumatized more than one person at a time without Catalyst, which will be extrapolated upon request, but this is long enough already)

Again, I wanna draw attention to those Sweet, Sweet Marinette and Gabriel parallels. Gabriel, through half truths and carefully peppered moments of emotional manipulation and practiced vulnerability, attempts to B plot Marinette into stealing the Miraculouses. Believing herself to be at least somewhat in his thrall, Marinette allows herself to empathize with his plight, and they build a surprising, if strained, raport. 

After discovering that she is not, in fact, under Hawkmoth’s control Marinette rebels just long enough to have Hawkmoth take back his Akuma, and Marinette caves the next time Adrien is in Genuine Danger, stealing the real Peacock Miraculous and using it.

This marks the second half of their partnership, and Hawkmoth reveals that the miraculous is broken, and Marinette is now dying from it’s use, and that her only choice of survival is to help him make his wish. This evens out the power balance, at they both now have the same goals and powers independent of each other, but also ups ante. 

That’s the most tldr general of overview, with other more specific highlights like

Ladybug!Alya having to reach her own emotional maturity, her earlier stint as a hero leaving her with a much bigger ego in terms of how she perceives her impact of the morale of the city and where her priorities lie in trying to boost that morale vs her personal needs. Ladybug!Alya tries too hard to take notes from already established heroes and public images. She still runs the Ladyblog, Spiderman style.

After quickly realizing (after some confusion) that the Ladybug he fought Stoneheart with the last time is not the same as the one he fought the first time with, Adrien gets a big old case of the pining sighs

Early series Adrien and Alya are both not the type to value secret identities, and so yes, they do reveal said identities to each other fairly early.

They also can both keep a fucking secret, so it works. They are secret BFFs

After the first time Adrien is rescued by the mysterious Peacock Holder, he figures out that whoever she is, she’s the original Ladybug, and more and more ends up distracted and drawn away from fights by her, the perfect reason for Alya to have to bring in other miraculous users. (the interactions tend to take place on moonlit balconies. There’s heavy Pilot influences here)

Marinette does this thing where she spreads her fan when she’s startled and hides her face. Mostly because Cat Noir wont stay out of it. The miraculous’ memory means she tends to fan speak a lot. Symbolism

Speaking of symbolism, the character designs are rife with them. I know exactly what Peacock Marinette looks like and there’s a reason for everything.

The subplot where (inspired by the pilot) Cat Noir finds out that there used to be a curse on the ring that could only be lifted by a kiss from Ladybug (thanks to her creation/retcon powers). Cat Noir convinces (inaccurately) himself that his destruction powers can totally do something similar with Hawkmoth’s mind control now all he needs is to kiss the Peacock user and she’ll be free! She’s totes not a bad guy!

Yes, Marinette does get a different miraculous ala being an episode helper, and her emotions are complicated about it

And other fun tidbits. This got way to long but I’m more than willing to extrapolate on anything more specific that anyone is curious about

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous au #peacock miraculous #mlb #peacock marinette #FowlPlayAU

[holidaywishes]

It Had To Be You XXIX

Chapter Twenty Nine: Who Are You?

  Summary: After the Vow Renewal, you head back to Dallas while Tyler heads to Vancouver to play the Canucks and you meet his friend, Kate, and suspicions threaten your relationship (I said I was gonna do it, so might as well get it out of the way now, right?). 

  Warning: a whole lot more angst than I thought there would be...

  Author’s Note: I just finished re-reading this series to see where I left off and it looks like the last time I wrote something was back at the end of March -- so like right before playoffs. It’s funny to see how much my writing has changed over the course of 29 chapters, if any of you have written a series, I urge to read yours over; it’s quite a ride. That being said, these next few chapters may be a little rough because I haven’t dipped my feet into this series in so long, so, please, just bear with me. This one’s a bit of a filler but a filler with a lot of angst! Hope you enjoy!

  Song Credit: Who Is She 2 U -- Brandy, Who Are You -- Svrcina

  masterlist

--

  You couldn’t help thinking about how Tyler was with the kids at Chris and Karen’s vow renewal reception and how sweet he was with them. You hadn’t thought about whether or not you wanted kids in a long time; not since you were a teenager when your sister told you she wanted four kids and asked how many kids you wanted.

  “I don’t know, maybe two? A boy and a girl?” was your response but since then you hadn’t thought about it because the relationships you were in didn’t really seem like they would make it that far. But, of course, seeing Tyler with small children made you think that the two of you could grow into wanting that together. You tried to put the thought out of your mind because it wasn’t a discussion you were ready to have, either with yourself or with Tyler, so you walked over to the couch to find something to watch before you heard a knock on the door.

  “Who could that be?” you cooed to Gerry, eyes wide as you leaned close to him before kissing his nose, “are you expecting someone Gerry? Huh? What about Marshall or Cash? Where are your brothers anyway?” you continued in your puppy voice as you walked over to the door to answer it

  “He- oh hi..” a smiley blonde said from the other side of the door before a look of confusion swept across her face, “is.. Tyler here?”

  “I’m sorry, who are you?” you asked, stepping to the side to lean against the door frame, keeping the dogs from running out the door

  “Kate” she stated matter-of-factly, but when you raised your eyebrows questioningly she realized you hadn’t heard of her, “Kirchof? I’m a friend of Ty’s”

  “Nice to meet you, Kate Kirchof,” you said, clearly annoyed at the fact she was trying to nudge her way inside, “I’m (Y/N), Ty’s never mentioned you before, not that it really matters because he’s not here right now. But I can leave him a message for when he gets home…”

  “Sure,” she started, “just get him to call me?” You hummed at her request and told her you’d do your best

  “Have a nice day”

  “Are you sure you’re gonna be here when he gets home? I could just wait here, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. I mean, I don’t mean to sound rude or anything,” she popped her hip to the side as she stood in front of you, “but who are you?” As soon as the words left her mouth, you scoffed in her direction, confused on so many levels but getting more and more annoyed by the second

  “I wouldn’t want you to waste your day waiting for him, sweetheart,” you chided, “he won’t be getting back into town until late tonight. But don’t worry, I’ll let him know you dropped by.” You went to close the door but she brought her hand up to stop you

  “You still didn’t tell me who you are…” she urged

  “I’m his girlfriend” you gave her a sarcastic smile as you shut the door, leaving her with an overly shocked expression on her face. Great, you thought to yourself, now I’m going to be thinking about who this chick is and what she means to Tyler. Why wouldn’t he tell me about her? How have I never met her before? I mean if she stops by here unannounced… does she do it often? GOD DAMN IT TYLER! Your thoughts were getting the better of you but you knew there had to be an explanation, so you waited for Tyler to get home to talk to him about it.

  “Who is she to you, don’t lie to me, who is she to you, my eyes can see, something’s going on between you two…” The song played in the background as you looked through Tyler’s Instagram, desperately trying to find something to hold on to, when the dogs ran to the door to greet Ty and you changed the song, turning down the volume when he came into the room where you were.

  “Hey babe” he said happily

  “Hey” you replied, coldness to your tone

  “How are you?” he creeped beside you, kissing your cheek before jumping over the couch to sit next to you

  “I’m good, yeah, how are you?” you kept your eyes on your phone as he pushed your hair from your neck

  “I’m good…” he faltered when you shifted away from him, as if he was waiting for a response from you

  “That’s good” you smiled knowingly and Tyler furrowed his eyebrows at you

  “Okay, what’s wrong?” he asked, peeling himself away from you to slump back into the couch 

  “Nothing, baby,” you started, insincerely, and Tyler let out a sigh of relief, getting up to grab something to eat. You smiled to yourself, letting him have a second of peace before starting a potential yelling match. You turned around to see his reaction when you finally spoke again, “Kate dropped by today.” You saw his body tense as his hands rested on the counter, pushing his body up, keeping his body turned away from you and you waited for him to say something

  “Tyler?” you called, thinking he’d say something, anything, but he stayed silent, “who is she?” 

  “No one” he finally said, quietly and under his breath, without turning to you

  “No one?”

  “No one, our families know each other. I haven’t seen her since before I played for Boston…”

  “So why is she popping up at your house here? Does she live in Dallas?” 

  “I don’t know why she dropped by here, but yes she lives in Dallas”

  “You’re lying!” you shouted

  “No I’m not!” he shouted back, “I gave you the answers you wanted…”

  “The answers I wanted?” you scoffed, “no no no no, I asked you very simple questions and you gave the bare minimum. One of those questions was a simple yes or no, so it’s not like you could’ve hidden from it. But there’s something you’re not telling me about her”

  “I don’t know what you want me to say? I don’t know what she was doing here, she never comes by but I know she lives in the city because she’s sent me messages on Instagram saying we should meet up”

  “And what you just gave her your address?!” 

  “Not just like that…” he sighed, “she came to a game a while back, you know when you weren’t”

  “Don’t do that, don’t fucking guilt me for not coming to your games by saying some ‘stranger from your past’ does” 

  “I’m not doing that. Just..” he tried to compose himself, “she came to a game and stopped by the locker room after. She was talking to Katie, like Jamie’s Katie, and then the four of us kinda hung out for a while. You weren’t living with me yet, you were just visiting here and there, so you weren’t here. She ended up coming back here. And staying the night…” 

  “Wow..” you gasped quietly, “so.. What does that mean? I wasn’t living here, I was back in Calgary, doing some stupid term paper or something while you were doing what? fucking some ex-girlfriend?”

  “She’s not an ex-girlfriend!” 

  “You did fuck her then?”

  “No!” he yelled, watching you pace around the house, “I didn’t fuck her, I let her stay the night because it was late and I was trying to be responsible. She slept on the couch.”

  “How fucking old is she Ty?” you countered, “she looked awfully young to be an old family friend”

  “I said our families knew each other, not that she was an old family friend”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, you’re right. My bad. How do your families know each other again?”

  “She went to South Methodist University, my Mom met her Mom somewhere.. then they came to a Canada Day/Fourth of July weekend thing that we had in Dallas a long time ago.”

  “I don’t buy it”

  “BUY WHAT?!”

  “THAT SHE DOESN’T MEAN ANYTHING TO YOU!”

  “SHE DOESN’T!”

  “THEN WHY AREN’T YOU TELLING ME THE TRUTH?!”

  “I’VE TOLD YOU EVERYTHING!”

  “WHO IS SHE?!”

  “I TOLD YOU!”

  “I MEAN TO YOU, TYLER! WHO THE FUCK IS SHE TO YOU?!”

  “(Y/N) I HAVE TOLD YOU A MILLION TIMES, SHE’S NO ONE! JUST SOME GIRL”

  “Just some girl?” you said surprisingly quietly, “just some girl you’ve known for years but never mentioned? Just some girl who looks like she’s been pulled from the cover of a magazine? Just some girl who can’t be more than 21? Just some girl who is literally everything I’m not but everything I used to be?”

  “(Y/N).. baby..” he walked slowly toward you when he noticed a small tear fall from the corner of your eye but you pulled away 

  “Don’t. I can’t right now, Ty.” You started, eyes locked on a speck of dust on the floor until you were forced to look up at him to break the silence, “I don’t believe a word you’re saying to me right now, I’m sorry, but I just.. I need some space.” 

  “Are you serious right now?” he squeezed his eyes shut as he tried not to yell at you, “what are you gonna do? Lock yourself in a room and just ignore me until you decide to trust me again?”

  “Of course not, that would be ridiculous,” you said, wandering over to sit at the kitchen island, waiting for Tyler to sit in front of you, “there’s a hotel nearby, I can get a room for the night or for as long as I need to. I’ll have my phone, we can text. I’ll be at the game on Tuesday, cheering you on, but I need to just be away from you, be alone, for a bit so I can focus on this event tomorrow.”

  “Fine, whatever” he said, tossing his hand in defeat

  “Tyler..” 

  “No you know what? You do this. You make up these insane scenarios in your head, get yourself all worked up over nothing and when they don’t turn out like you expect them to, you run. You did it with James and now you’re doing it with me.”

  “Don’t talk about James like you give a shit about what went down between us”

  “Don’t act like what I’m saying isn’t true!”

  “No, you’re right. I do do this. I put myself in the position to get irreparably hurt by people I trust. It’s a huge character flaw. But this isn’t all about you. Or her. Or you and her. This is about the fact that I have a huge event that I’m in charge of tomorrow, for an internship that, half the time, I have no idea what I’m doing. And I need to be on my A game tomorrow or who the hell knows what will happen to me. I need space from you so I don’t spend the entirety of the next 12 hours fighting over whether or not I should believe what you’re telling me.”

  “Fine.” He stated bluntly, anger engulfing every letter as you walked past him to pack a bag. Every room was so silent that making any kind of sound -- zipping up a suitcase, footprints through the hallways, sniffling to hold back tears, -- was like blaring angry death metal in both yours and Tyler’s ears. When you finally got to the door to meet your Uber outside, you looked back at Tyler once more and a million thoughts rushed through your head;

  Maybe this is a mistake

  Maybe I am just being overdramatic

  Maybe she really is just some girl

  He still loves me 

  I still love him

  We can work this out, calmly and maturely, can’t we?

  Maybe he’ll tell me he’s sorry and ask me to stay

  Maybe he’ll say he loves me and I’ll forget everything that’s happened

  Maybe…

  You noticed Tyler take a step toward you and you thought that he might say something to make you stay but he just stood in front of you, with his hands in his pockets, and raised his eyebrows before making his final statement to you.

  “She. Doesn’t. Mean. Anything. To Me.” His words were pointed and angry, Even if he was telling the truth, which you honestly couldn’t tell anymore, it was clear that he wasn’t going to change his tone and the argument would continue the way it had been all night. So, you nodded slowly before leaning down to pick up your bag, a single tear falling to the floor as you did so and you turned to walk out the door

  “I hope you’re telling me the truth, Ty,” you said with your back turned, “because I really love you and I don’t want you to hurt me.” You ran out to the car before he could say anything else or see the stream of tears falling down your face, convulsing in uncontrollable sobs as soon as you sat down in the dark backseat of your Uber. What you said was true, you didn’t want to get hurt, and you knew that getting hurt by Tyler would break you more than anything else had broken you before.

#Tyler Seguin #masterlist #It Had To Be You #It Had To Be You series #long time no post #Tyler Seguin Imagine #Tyler Seguin series #NHL imagine #NHL series

[cruzrogue]

F’M Smoak

#Fictober19 @fictober-event

————————————————————————

for fanfiction:

Prompt number: 5  “I might just kiss you.”

Fandom (AU if applicable): #arrow fanfiction #olicity #Flommy

Thomas Merlyn/ Felicity Smoak

Rating:G

Warnings/Tags: Fluff (friendship)

F’M Smoak

Summary:

Goth Felicity can sing and it brings unwanted attention from a lacrosse player. In the midst of this she meets a charming college guy who she easily befriends.

As her sweetest song she’s singing right now has that quite different sound from the array of beats of the rest of her lyrical music. She loves this one as it is of a sweet innocence and it is gushy and a real love song but she plays it with such heartfelt gusto saying the chorus again and again as the song comes to an end.    

“I might just kiss you.”

The crowd cheering loudly for a favorite that seems to appear every so often with a local college band that play instruments for her to sing a few original songs. She’s taking in the audience. In the last few months it seems she been gathering a few followers. It’s cool and all but sometimes these fans kind of come on way to strong and she it takes her from her comfort zone. She’s glad the owner of at least this establishment keeps an eye on the rowdiness. Sometimes things escalate quickly and Felicity feels so out of her element trying to deal with overeager men.

Tonight, is no exception as she’s occupied on her last song of the night that she doesn’t see the lacrosse player she’s had to repeatedly decline slip back stage. The guy doesn’t take no very well. Last time he was extremely drunk and thought she’d do for some fun that night. Kicking him in the gonads wasn’t enough to get the point across that she truly isn’t interested in some guy who creeps her out. Its not like she didn’t express that she was underage and doesn’t even drink. Not that the bar would serve her anyhow. Thank goodness the bouncer threw the lacrosse player out before she’d have to call the police.

That night may be one night of many. So, her enthusiasm to keep rocking hasn’t been spoiled by a few bad apples. She likes to sing these darker songs that fit her young being alone temperament. She’s still a teenager and basically is all by herself in this world if she doesn’t count her mom who is thousands of miles away in Las Vegas. Being a kid and really having to rely on herself is got to be the biggest mood.

When she needed cash for a small project that has become a go to happy hobby of hers. She’s finds old computers and put them back together to create a library of computer power. It costs a lot of dough to refit with new components. Technology is not cheap.

Her roommate seriously told her to try stripping. That got Felicity to raise her eyebrows at the girl. First, she was underage and that didn’t seem to faze her roommate at all it only made Felicity become more withdrawn in that friendship. She isn’t going to become a stripper, she just wasn’t. Soon after she met a few guys at karaoke that had a falling out with their main singer and well after a few conversations they tried it out. She just wants to play short term while they find a new front for the group. She doubts this is what she’ll want long term anyhow.

Her edgy voice bringing the crowd to erupt to a chorus she humming out. It seems they love this particular song. She wrote it weeks ago when a college frat boy broke her heart. He didn’t literal break it with any misdeeds he broke it by telling her she wasn’t his type. His loss because he gave her a song that connected with loads of people. Raising her arm at the end and enjoying the audience clapping she just follows the guys downstairs where this cute college looking guy tells her how great the performance was.

“That was truly awesome.”

“Thanks. My bandmates really did amazing up there.”

“Yea, but your voice. It holds this melody that I really liked.”

She just smiles. Her bandmates already moving out of view. “Thanks again. I’m just going to go back there. I’m super parched.”

“I can get you a drink?”

“Sorry. No thanks. That nice of you…” Felicity gives him another sweet smile before adding, “and all.”

“Tommy. That’s my name.”

“Okay, thanks Tommy. I don’t want to keep you from your friends.” She looking at a few guys holding their thumbs up at him. It makes him sigh.

“Sorry, they are… were with me. Don’t let them get to you. They can be jerks.”

“Well then. You should than probably make better friends.” She winks and starts to leave but then turns to him. “Care to join me in a refreshing bottle of water?”

“Water huh? You’re to young to be alcoholic?” He then adds, “Or just too young?”

“I’m too young to drink.” She laughs as she goes to grab a drink that is left there for her when a hand grabs her wrist.

“Hey, baby miss me?”

“You? What are you doing here?” Felicity trying to wrestle her wrist away with no luck.

“Your voice is so angelic and how can I keep away when all I want is to take care of you babes?” He pushes her closer and her other arm shoots out helping her to keep her distance.

“How did you get backstage?”

Tommy taking in the quick happening scene when his mind took that this guy wasn’t someone she wanted to talk to.

“Hey, I don’t think the lady is interested.”

“Fuck off frat boy. I got this.”

That makes Tommy come closer. Felicity doesn’t want the new stranger to get involved any deeper. “Tommy, its okay. I can handle it.”

“You shouldn’t have to. If this creep is bothering you.” His voice a little higher that it gets the guys that are putting their instruments away off on the other side take notice. They are now on alarm and start to head to Felicity’s defense.

“Hey F’M do you know these guys?”

Felicity pulls her wrist again from the obvious stalker of a few weeks but his grip is tighter.

Tommy speaks out, “I just met her. Though this guy is physically not letting her go.”

“Hey man, let her go!” The four guys from the band are now just poised and looking at the jerk.

“This bitch wants me. We’ve gotten to know each other for awhile now. We are going. Right babe?” He gives her a very dark stare as if she doesn’t cooperate there will be hell to pay.

Felicity gazes at the player and for a split second thinks it be good to listen and no escalation of violence will take place if she just does as he asks. It when she turns her eyes towards Tommy and sees something. A way out. He there and his stance is of someone who will help and not cower but he is waiting on her decision. She nods to him. That nod only makes him rigid. His words now controlled as his deep voice leaves no room of doubt, “She isn’t leaving with you.”

Just before the lacrosse player can say a word the owner has made his appearance with a bouncer and he notices as he gives a look to the player and then looks him dead in the eyes. “I thought I told you to never come back? Get out!”

Felicity pulls hard and her wrist is free. Tommy takes a risk as he places his body between the jerk and the singer he really enjoyed tonight.

Years later…

Felicity walks as silently as she can towards where the door down to the foundry at Verdant. She stops when she hears a voice.

“You know, I knew I know your face from some place.”

Felicity whips around to look at Tommy Merlyn behind a bar. They haven’t really talked since that incident. It was so many years ago. So much has changed. Even the color of her hair is a different. No more Goth and she quite literally is the flipped coin of her youth.

“Hi Tommy. I didn’t see you there?”

“Another late night down stairs working on wiring issues?”

“Um… well.”

“Hmm Hm. You are a busy IT girl. Got to say Oliver really is working you overtime.”

“Well he asked nicely and…”

“I bet he did. I’m more interested in the whole transformation?”

“Transformation? You must be thinking of someone else?”

He laughs. “I could be. Though I think we both know you are the spitting image of F’M Smoak.” He sees she doesn’t say a word waiting on what he is going to say next. “Felicity Smoak what does M stand for?”

“My middle name Megan.”

“You gave up singing?”

She shrugs. “It brought out some weirdos and my passion is with technology.”

“You were good?”

“I think you are just being nice.”

He pulls a shirt from under the bar. Letting her see the name across the smoke’s emblem of her name. “I’ve held on to this shirt since seeing you for a third time. It was hard to go backstage because of the bouncers. Heard you were getting way too many eager fans.”

“Yea, side effect. It all died down after I took a work study program working with my main love.”

“Good for you. Though it be a shame if that voice never makes a debut again.”

“Tommy, let us keep this little story to ourselves. No one needs to know.”

“Fine, if that is what you really want. Verdant could use the talent.”

“Well Merlyn, maybe I could play a set on Halloween because that is the only time, I’ll wear a mask and even be something I’m not anymore.”

“Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer.”

“And I am deeply sorry that you got a black eye over me.”

“Oh yes, that dude threw a mean one.”

“He was a total ass and let’s just say that he’s still on the government watch list to this day.”

Tommy smiles. “Okay Smoak, guess you should go do whatever you’re supposed to be doing.” He winks at her as he turns around. “He is most likely downstairs being moody while wondering where you are.”

She shakes her head, “It isn’t like that.”

He doesn’t turn to look at her again, “Sure! If you say so. Goodnight.” He knows she still there as he lets out the last melody of a certain song, “I might just kiss you.”

He hears her whimsical laughter as she calls out “Night Tommy!”

When he hears the downstairs lock click, he turns to watch her go. Mumbling low, “Damn fool downstairs has no idea what a lucky prick he is.”

#fictober19 #felicity smoak #thomas merlyn #olicity #flommy

[yaachtynoboat711]

Fonder 5.1

A/N: I AM SOOO SORRY FOR THE HIATUS! I missed you guys. The secret’s finally out! The mystery of Mr. Gatsby’s identity is being revealed! There may be smut included in this chapter also. Thanks @babygirlofwakanda for helping me out with that! Lastly, the italics (besides the sounds) are Yaa’s inner thoughts. 😬😬😬😬😬 Reblog and like!

Word Count: Get your popcorn ready (~3.5k)

Warning(s): SMUT, slow burn, plot progression, introduction of a new character, few errors/typos

NEW YEAR’S EVE 10:34 p.m.

“I-I-...I don’t understand. It was you all along...but you’d just hopped in my DM’s right before I got here!”, Yaa attempted to collect the thoughts that had scattered on the floor.

Gatsby chuckled, “ Yeah, I know. It’s ok to be confused. I’m the last person you’d expect it to be, I’m sure.”

“So why me? All these fine Hollywood jawns and wannabe socialites rippin their own panties off just to get to you...and you choose the one non-celebrity on the other side of the country?”

Gatsby sipped some champagne as he listened to Yaa, nodding his head as he began mentally creating his response to her outlandish claim. He finally sat his fluted glass down on the desk.

“Not to sound like a creep, but ever since Tanisha told me about her bomb ass lawyer friend, I’ve had my eyes on you. Don’t worry; I haven’t been that close. I learned enough about you to still have many questions left over to ask you. You’re a complex and multi-faceted woman that deserves to be exalted. Plus, from what I’ve also heard, you’ve been eyeing me too. Why’d you think the riddles and passwords were how they were?”

He was right: she’d had her eyes, heart, and womanhood set on him for years. It began way back in the summer of 2002. Her almost 12-year-old self had no business watching anything graphic and raw, yet alone watching The Wire. Her parents encouraged to watch it surprisingly. Then it happened—he came on the TV. Though she hated cornrows, even in the early 2000s, she found herself head over heels for the peanut head with the cornrows—Wallace. She hated the fact that he was a teenage drug dealer but hell, that was life in the Pit. The season finale left her distraught, crying for days as though he’d broken up with her or something. She followed his work and had proclaimed her love for him for 12 years and now here he was—Michael B. Jordan—standing before her explaining how he wanted her. Funny how life works.

She burst into a fit of nervous laughter; he joined.

“What’s so funny, Yaa?”, Michael asked.

She subdued her laughter as much as she could. “I’m laughing because I know this has to be a drawn-out prank or some shit. The man I’ve been mentally dating half of my life isn’t in front of me right now, and he damn sure ain’t telling me he finna risk it all for me. Not against his own will at least.”, she stammered.

He raised an eyebrow at her disbelief. His shoulders bounced as his cocky grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “So, you think this is a game? Hmm?” He kneeled down and lifted her chin for her honey brown eyes to meet his calming dark brown eyes. “Talk to me.”

She nodded her head yes. “Show me this isn’t a game.”, she challenged.

“Say less.”

He lifted her chin some more. He went in for the kiss—an offer easily accepted. Jackpot. There was a jolt of electricity between their lips. As their kiss deepened, his hands held gently her neck, lightly brushing against her coarse honey blonde locs. Her arms linked tightly around his neck. His hands scooped under her large ass, picking her up and causing her to break the kiss. Her eyes flew open as she began looking down at the floor. The second time she’d been picked up and the skinny nigga was the one on the cusp of changing her life. Her embrace around Michael’s neck tightened significantly as she braced for an abrupt drop.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?”, Michael teased.

“Last time I was picked up, I couldn’t dance for a month. You’re scaring the shit outta me.”, she sputtered.

There went that cocky,raspy laugh. Michael dropped her down and quickly caught her before she could get anywhere near the ground. “Oh, so you scared the skinny nigga can’t hang? C’mon now. You should know I’ve been waiting on you for a minute. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, baby girl. Best believe that.”, he reassured. With that being said, he walked confidently across the room to the couch with his scared thick lawyer in tow, carrying her 200+ pound frame like she was a bag of nothing. That Creed training made him a monster.

He stared into her eyes once again in awe. In such a simple expression, there was enough fire and passion in her eyes to light up the fireplace across the room. He slowly gave her lips more kisses, savoring them like the last of a 5-star meal.

“You got all of these sweet kisses, girl.”, he groaned, “Must’ve been saving them for a special reason or someone.” Not by choice, baby boy.

“I’ve waited for a long time for this”, she chuckled into his lips. Knock knock knock.

Michael’s head dropped and Yaa looked up into the dimmed lights palming her face, both clearly frustrated with the mood-killing visitor at the door.

“Who is it?”, Michael yelled as he re-adjusted his black double-breasted tux and bow tie. He walked towards the door, still awaiting a response.

“Me, nigga!”, the nearly hoarse voice replied defensively.

Michael smacked his teeth and opened the door. “The fuck you want, Steelo?”

“Mannnnn, it’s almost 2015! Folks lookin’ for you an- oh, heyyyyy how you doin’? I’m Steelo.”, he slurred. His attention was suddenly brought to the clearly annoyed Yaa.

“I know who you are. Nice to finally meet you.”, Yaa said.

He redirected his intoxicated “focus” back to his best friend. He’d recognized Yaa. “Hold up, that’s her?”

“Yeah, that’s Khalida, the lawyer. We’ll be out in a sec—”

“—YOOOOOO! She bad as fuck,bruh. Thick too? Niggggggaaaaaaa...I heard them fat jawns be changin’ liv—”

Without saying a word, Michael pushed his drunk best friend out the door like a dolly and locked the door. “Look, he’s drunk as fuck and I’m sorry that h—”, Michael apologized.

Khalida placed two fingers over his lips. “Fat isn’t a bad word. No need to apologize. Now, come on— we have a new year to celebrate.”, she replied.

Michael’s deep dimples and smile stretched across his face as he watched Khalida walk out of the door. “You comin’ or not, Gatsby?”, she teased.

11:09 p.m.

By the time Yaa returned to the action, there were more faces—famous faces—in the crowd. All in attendance were dressed to the nines with their CRISP finger waves, feathers, furs, pearls, and enough cigarette holders for an old Hollywood film. Yaa walked to her VIP section to find her best friend Tanisha lit off of her spirit of choice—Bombay Sapphire gin. Steelo and some of Michael’s other friends had joined her in the booth. Tanisha sashayed to her friend to greet her.

“BIIIIIIITCCCCCCCCHHH! Where the FUCK have you been?”, an impaired Neesh questioned.

“I was talking to Gatsby. You literally saw me leave. Second, I’m finna beat yo ass.”, Khalida yelled over the music.

Tanisha stepped back and put her hands up. “What for?”

“You know why. Gatsby ends up being my childhood crush?! Howwwww in the hell were you able to pull that off?”

“Sis...just know that I got the connect. Now shut up and drink--we gotta New Year to ring in.”

Without further protest, Yaa opened the new bottle of D’usse and poured it into her glass. A few glasses and three tequila shots later, she was feeling nice. Not drunk, but nice, tipsy at most. She’d stepped out of her shell of skepticism and began socializing a lot more.

During the course of the night, Michael and Yaa had been getting cozy with each other. They never left each other’s side. They exchanged flirty looks and “you goods?” When they weren’t refilling cups in the VIP section, they were deep in conversation, topics varied as their sobriety faded away. Then, it happened: his curious hand trailed northbound on her leg. Usually, Yaa would smack the taste out of any man’s mouth for feeling up on her, sober or drunk. But let’s face it: she was feeling him and it was obvious the feeling was mutual. She bit her lip and winked at him in response.

“So we just gon’ pretend like yo whole hand ain’t up my dress?”, Yaa playfully questioned.

“Yup.”, Michael replied with a grin. He was so proud of himself. “Finally able to get my hands on you.”

Yaa rolled her eyes. “Don’t getcha skinny ass hurt fuckin around.”

She got up, leaving him awestruck at her model-like walk.

“10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1… HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Gold and silver confetti and balloons fell from the sky. Cheers from every corner of the room paired with the popping of champagne corks. Yaa hugged Tanisha and kissed cheeks in celebration of the New Year. Yaa felt two taps to the right shoulder. Ready to curse, Yaa whipped her body around to see that the tapper was none other than Michael. He rubbed the back of his neck and flashed his smile, revealing his pair of ridiculously adorable deep dimples.

“I-uh...know we kinda just met like an hour and a half ago...but I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind having the honor of sharing this New Year’s ki—”. Yaa grabbed him up by his lapel and kissed him passionately, yet drunkenly. She laughed.

“Happy New Year to you too, Kari. Sorry, but I’ve always wanted to call you that.”, she laughed.

1:47 a.m.

Thud. For all it’s worth, Yaa’s back as going to be sore for the next couple of days from the impact of hitting her back against her chest of drawers. She also couldn’t have given half a fuck about her neck or her back. Hell, sis was finally getting dick. The more violent her and Michael’s tongues were becoming in each other’s mouths, the more familiar their hands were becoming with each other’s clothes and bodies. Still focused on his Dom Perignon-flavored kisses, her hands anxiously searched for his belt. But before she could unbuckle his pants, the D’usse demon jumped out. She smirked seductively as she boldly grabbed his print and freed herself from his arms.

“Oh shit.”, he mumbled, “So, you nasty nasty.”

The devilish smirk she gave was all the response he needed. She slowly got on her knees and freed his dick from the constraints of his pants, licking its length on both sides. Her head bobbed to the beat of the music playing in her head. Watching her bob on his dick, he began undoing the bottom of her chignon so that the rest of her hair wouldn’t get in the way of his undoing.

Thud. His head went against the wall as his undoing was becoming apparent. He cursed under his breath and kept his bottom row of teeth tucked underneath his bottom lip to keep from moaning aloud. Yaa would have cared less for his current state. She continued to slurp and coat his rock-hard member with spit. Keeping eye contact, Yaa continued licking him like a melting popsicle. He growled to keep from moaning, along with a chorus of “Shit” being recited under his breath.

Forever came to an end as Yaa slowly got off of her knees. He helped her up, only to be blindsided by her sloppy kisses. She began walking backwards with him towards the king-sized bed but stopped at the edge of the bed.

He placed her on the edge of the bed. Michael kissed her lips gently and slowly began to make his way to her promised land. His kisses became wet as he made his way down to her neck—her spot. He kissed her collarbone tattoo, licked his way down to her large breasts, and paused at her nipples. With his hands now caressing her breast, he wrapped his tongue around her nipple and began sucking with enough pressure to make her moan. While he sucked on her nipple like a pacifier, Michael dropped his hand from hoisting up her other breast and began to timidly creep his fingers down her baby-soft skin and the scrunched fabric of her dress. Feeling his hand touch over her thigh, he began to aggressively pull up the bottom of her dress. There was a slight discoloration created on her skin from the irritation from the material being forced against it, but Michael didn’t stop until the bottom of her dress pooled around her stomach. Once he realized where the material had settled, he pulled his lips from around Yaa’s areola, fixating his eyes on her lower half. Quickly noticing that she was panty-less, he felt a smirk tug at his lips--better--he peered up at his flushed lover. “So that’s how you rollin’, huh?”, he questioned as he slowly rolled his bottom lip underneath his teeth before winking up at Yaa and sinking to his knees. Staring at the awe-striking sight of her glistening folds, Michael admired the intimate view as he could replay the numerous times he tried to capture this very image many a late night.

He pushed her legs further apart until her kneecaps were damn near touching the mattress before trailing his way up her inner thighs. Placing soft, gentle kisses and occasional nibbles against her hot skin, he increased his pressure, making her feel the individual pricks of his coarse facial hair making Yaa a squirmy, wet mess. Timidly reaching her glory, Michael brought his hands up and steadily separated her lower lips with both of his thumbs before pressing his mouth forward. “Looks like someone’s been waiting on me.”, he said with a cocky confidence.

Chest rapidly rising and falling, Yaa couldn’t form a coherent word, phrase, or sentence. She gulped heavily before rolling her head back as Michael’s lips connected to her folds. She gripped the sheets up as his tongue controlled her every move. He finally licked her wet opening with a flat tongue going from the bottom to the top. His tongue was a weapon— it was both long and thick. He licked his name on her bud—slowly torturing her it with every dip, twist, turn, curve, and dot of each letter in his name. He then inserted two of his thick fingers into her opening as he licked the letter "C" and began pumping his fingers at a moderate pace. Desperately panting from his actions, Yaa began to shriek once she felt Gatsby toy with her clit. This raggedy ass nigga finna suck you dry and ain’t shit you can do about it at this point.

His fingers picked up the pace the moment he noticed her unraveling, his tongue explored deeper into her womanhood. She struggled to feel for the nearest pillow, but when she found it, she quasi-covered her mouth to subdue her moans of pleasure.

The sounds of Yaa’s hitched breathing and impending sexual eruption ricocheted throughout the master bedroom. Her back was arched completely off of the bed and she held a firm grasp of his head. If it wasn’t a moan or gasp, Yaa let out a “fuck”, “shit”, or an “Oh Lorddddddd.” Hearing Yaa unravel brought Michael much pleasure—the match to his sexual fire. He occasionally laughed at her undoing; he finally had the object of his affection under his mercy, quivering at his touch. Right as he could feel the pressure change for her release, he pulled his fingers and tongue away from her now swollen bud. She quickly leaned up on her elbows to see why he was stupid enough to pull out right as she was about to release. He smiled maliciously as his soaked fingers neared his mouth. “Nuh-uh. I gotta taste this first, it makes the kisses taste sweeter.”, Michael explained as he slapped her hand away from his. Bitch, no the fuck he didn’t! The two locked eyes as he sucked his two drenched fingers like he’d just ate the last extra wet lemon pepper wing.

He motioned for her to sit up. Before he could even ask, Yaa leaned in to taste her sweet essence on his tongue. A shiver shot down his spine as her candy apple colored nail gently traveled down his back. Their kiss led to Yaa laying on her back once again. Michael bit his lip as he hovered over her. He snatched her by her ankle to the edge of the bed, sliding himself between her legs. “Missionary’s a bold first choice, don’t you think?”, Yaa asked as she handed him a condom. He chuckled, “Nah. I’m just tryna see sumn, that’s all.”

His thumb rubbed against her wet clit as his girthy member slowly entered her tight, slippery entrance. Yaa inhaled sharply as she felt her body tremble and his thick length push against her tight bounds. “Fuck!” She cursed, as she felt him move slow trying to feel each and every ridge of her plush opening. Their fingers intertwined within each other as he went further into her. The lustful gaze into her honey eyes only intensified the overwhelming sensation of euphoria emanating from her core. With her back now arched completely off the bed, her new position gave him more room to dig deeper into her guts. Her mouth was agape as she tried to breathe through her stimulation. His rhythm steadily increased with every stroke.

Watching Yaa’s scrunched facial expression, Michael moved his hands to grip her waist as he quickened his pace. Taking his off of her face for a second to peek at their connection as he smirked at the sticky surface of his and hers wet organs. With the erotic scene unfolding before him, Michael slowly rolled his bottom lip underneath his teeth once the sounds of their moist skin slapping against each other reached his ears. She was helpless—her eyes burned from the tears of pleasure and she struggled to grip onto the gold link chain that dangled from his neck. Her moans and whimpers continued to fuel his drive. Chuckling darkly at her body’s responsiveness he said, “Yea, this is that shit I was talking bout. Just listen to that shit speaking out to me, fuck.” before fluttering his eyes closed and pounding into her.

3:34 a.m.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. The sound of the headboard repeatedly being knocked against the wall served as a light sound buffer to Michael and Yaa’s moaning. Michael’s thick hand applied the perfect amount of pressure around her neck as he continued to deliver those dangerous strokes. Just as they were able to sync their rhythms, he pulled out. This nigga done lost his Black ass mind. She opened her mouth to complain, only to be interrupted by the sudden shift from her back to her tummy. “On your knees. Now.”, he commanded as he smacked her ass. She as she was told—only to be rewarded with the reunion of his lips to her lower lips. No, he didn’t, bitch! The byke?! He eatin’ it from the muhfuckin’ byke?! This is Daddy!! Fuck a Winston,chile. His alternating kissing and sucking on her swollen bud caused her to fall flat on her stomach from the overstimulation. His hand went underneath her to lift her back up. He centered himself before sliding his member back into her. He slowly increased his tempo as he twisted her locs into his fist.

Yaa’s voice was hoarse. Had been hoarse half an hour ago. She had been depleted of any common sense she’d thought she had and was running on adrenaline. Michael, though appearing to be the victor of the night’s bout, was still at odds with his challenger. She was tired but still fighting like hell. He sweated profusely—like a champ battling it out in the 11th round. She wasn’t going down with a fight. He flipped her around one last time. This time, he pinned her legs past her ears—a position that both were surprised by.

“You ain’t tappin’ out?”, he asked between pumps

“Why and you about to tap out yourself? Let’s tap out at the same time since you so damn excited.”, the raspy-voiced Yaa boldly replied.

“Aight, say less.”

He went into overdrive. He quickly moved her legs from near her ears to around his waist. Not even two minutes later, the pair released within seconds of each other,his body collapsing onto hers.

“Don’t move.”, Michael whispered in Yaa’s ear as he tried to get himself together.

She shook her head. “Bitch, I don’t wanna move.” She paused, “Actually, I need to finish wash my face. Move.”

The moment both feet landed on the ground, gravity betrayed her. Her knee gave out, causing to limp and almost fall. Thankfully, Michael’s body was turned away from her. After returning from the bathroom, she limped to the bed. Oh, heating pads are the move all day today. This was the beginning of something different, and what a way to begin a new beginning than on New Year’s Day?

A/N: Yeah, sorry for the trash ending. I got too impatient.

I’m in the kitchen, TAGS ERRYWHERE!

@muse-of-mbaku @kumkaniudaku @eriknutinthispoosy @whoramilaje @mbakusthrone @mbakuwife @crushed-pink-petals @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @jackburtonsays @randomwordprompts @forgottenthoughtsandmemories @bartierbakarimobisson @wakandan-flowerz @blackpantherreblogs @babygirlofwakanda @eerythingisshaka @washyourlinens @turn-thy-paige @doublesidedscoobysnacks @wakandas-vibranium @dramaqueenamby @oshasimone @destinio1 @teheeboo @sarahboseman @iamrheaspeaks @ljstraightnochaser @chaneajoyyy @thememoireeofme @lovelynervouschaos @cay-cah @coonflix @katasstrophey @mareethequeen @jozigrrl @great-neckpectations @jellybean531 @yofavcocoa @storibambino @maya-leche @blackgirloneshots @royallyprincesslilly @texasbama @certifiednatural @abeautifulmindexposed

#thefonderseries #winston x yaa #winston duke x oc #destinedtobeduke #dukeandthedoctor

[mellz117]

Mellz plays KH Re:CoM, Reverse/Rebirth (Riku’s Campaign) part 3

Check out parts [1] and [2] if you haven’t seen them yet. Part 1 also has a link to Sora’s campaign

Below the Read More is the endgame and my final thoughts

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Riku is met with Ansem, Seeker of Darkness, yet again, who still can't fathom why Riku's resisting his advances. Close your damn jacket!

Final battle! I lost twice? I think? Not many times but I think it was 2. But god damn not as many times as I lost to Repliku. That sucked. I don’t get mad about dying multiple times in a final boss, that’s kind of the point of final bosses...

Ansem has a great voice btw, like if there’s gonna be a voice for G-Dorf in Breath of the Wild 2, I want Richard Epcar or Dave Boat (Lexaeus) to voice him. I doubt it’ll happen but those are my picks!

This guy sure does talk a lot for someone who's supposed to be dying.

Ansem explodes in a thick fog of darkness that envelopes Riku and Mickey comes to the rescue. Technically Riku won so he’s allowed to relish in his victoy AS WELL AS be carried off my a floating mouse.

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 IDK where the basement is supposed to exist here because the door Riku reaches the ground floor through is the same door Sora goes through to LEAVE the ground floor. Is it like a hill? Gotta go upstairs to go downstairs?

Idk. I wanna see the full interior of the castle, I want blueprints.

“What now Riku? You going home?” Your Majesty. Mickey, my dude. You can’t just GO HOME after killing a man. Riku’s got some shit to go through, he can’t return to a normal life after this. There is so much more tha nthis!

I’m glad a MOUSE can understand darkness is a thing that just exists, can coexist with the light. Good on him for keeping an open mind! It took how long for anyone to realize light and dark are two sides of the same coin? Twilight Princess was all about this. ...Riku is the twilight princess.

Mickey wants to follow Riku down his path of light and dark and they’re friends now. When did they get the time to bond between KH1 and CoM?

How old is Mickey? He’s BFF’s with a teenager now, how old is he? I’m not saying child and adult friendships aren’t and shouldn’t be a thing, I may use Tumblr but I’m not THAT Tumblr. I’m just wondering what kind of grown-ass adult WANTS to be friends with a teenager lol. Mickey tells Riku, since they’re friends now Riku should call him my his name, rather than his title. So... No one else gets this talk? Donald? Goofy? No? OK.

I deadass expected Simple and Clean to start playing after a hard cut to black despite actually remembering the final confrontation with DiZ.

Riku and Mickey don the black coats DiZ presented earlier then they leave Castle Oblivion behind. The duo meets up with him at a crossroads and immediately Riku’s on the defense. I love Riku, he’s tired, he’s annoyed, he knows the world isn’t black and white, light and darkness, and the literal path he chooses reflects that. He’s accepting the darkness and using it to fight for his friends. I’m so proud of him. I wonder where these paths actually lead.

THE SUN IS RISING I DIDN’T NOTICE THIS UNTIL EDITING THIS WHAT?KJVBLSDFKJVBDLJ

NOW Simple and Clean plays, albeit after a fade to black.

During the credits cinematics we see Riku and Mickey travelling through Hollow Bastion, the same location where the 1,000 Heartless battle in KH2 takes place if I recall correctly! That was cool to see. Riku is having a difficult time. Help him.

The next one we see Roxas again. He stops and looks at the Twilight Town gang when they pass him and Axel tries leading him away. I can only assume the following went down:

“I wanna try that”, Roxas says and gestures to the ice cream the aforementioned group was eating. So he and Axel buy some ice cream and go up the clock tower, Roxas seems to be enjoying himself but Axel doesn’t seem to like this treat at all. I think he just eats it now for Roxas’s sake, he pretends to like it to make him happy.

So I don’t know the timeline of this part of the game. Is Roxas not part of the organization yet at this point? Is Axel trying to recruit him? Is this after Roxas defects and is forgetting his time with them?

The third clip we see a very brief shot of Riku a few months later and he’s looking good. Doesn’t cut his hair.

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Final clip, after the credits shows Roxas and at this point he’s either friends with Hayner, Pence, and Olette or they’re inviting him for the first time to hang out with them.

“Beyond the path without you is a forgotten promise to keep. We may have walked side by side, but now we go on back to back. And though our paths may not cross, all paths are connected somewhere. When I arrive at where you are, we may not appear to be as we were...”

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So, final thoughts of the game overall. I enjoy longish games but when the length is just padded out with such shallow worlds I get bored really easily. I like to explore the map but I can’t do that in this game. Riku’s campaign is very short in comparison to Sora’s, for better or worse. For someone who just REALLY, REALLY wanted to move onto KH2, this was welcome lol. Sora’s half put me to sleep and I had a hard time trudging through it. Not that the story wasn’t engaging enough for me, I just didn’t want to play.

Didn’t care for the card based battle here. I preferred the combat more in Riku’s half because card management wasn’t really a thing which I ended up growing to appreciate for Riku once I got used to it. All I had to do was level up and get an extra card if I felt like it. The duel system was really fun and made boss battles go quickly, when I actually took the time to INITIATE them. Most of my frustration was just me NOT doing what the game aggressively suggested. At least I admit when it’s me and not accuse the game of poor gameplay like a certain grumpy gamer but that’s none of my business. I think this game may have felt better on the Gameboy Advance, I wouldn’t know.

I wanted to cry. I missed these kids so much. I love them so much. I’m a god damn crybaby now so a lot of moments just ended me and sometimes I needed a moment to sob while I hug my cat.

The (original) characters.

I can feel bad for Vexen to a point, he was a bastard but he just ultimately just wanted to do sciency stuff. A lot of questionable science but whatever. He creeps me the hell out. I know he hated Marluxia but was he really willing to spill Marly’s plans to Sora JUST TO SPITE HIM? Or was he actually trying to help Sora? That might explain some things later on down the road...

Lexaeus was always boring so no comment.

Zexion is a cutie pie, I don’t know why I think this I guess it carried over from 10 years ago. I have a soft spot for him. And I didn’t post a single picture of him so here’s one.

Axel, my favorite bastard. I will always love him. Chaotic neutral. He’s not much of an antagonist in this game, more of an obstacle, but he’s certainly working in favor of his own interests. I’ve been reading Inkheart and he reminds me of Dustfinger? Fire and all i guess.

Marluxia is also a bastard but as an antagonist I don’t dislike him. He mostly has his good looks to help him with that. I’m not sure why he wanted to overthrow the Organization but it got him dead so GG my dude. Not sure why Xehanort invited him and Larxene back.

Larxene.

Repliku. Brat, very much a brat. He immediately had beef with Sora because apparently it’s too unreasonable for Sora to “forget the quiet girl who moved away” when you were four and five years old. I could barely remember this game let alone any memories from when I was 4. I would have liked to see him interact with Riku during the time he thought he himself (Repliku) was the real one. Imagine the DRAMA. I do feel bad for him, his struggles with his identity and his jealousy towards Riku. I love how he is with Namine, so soft spoken and gentle. But we all know that’s based on false memories which is so sad. But like Sora said, the memories might be fake but the feelings are real.

Namine is a very good girl, a victim, a child who, when given the courage to, will stand up against her captor to protect her friends. She’s very sweet and smells like Kairi! (Riku, that’s weird) She’s brave as hell and I stan her. She just wanted a friend.

Sora... He’s so pure, so wholesome. He’ll do whatever it takes to save his friends. He had a little moment of weakness and cast Donald and Goofy aside but he got better pretty quickly. He was willing to give Repliku a chance despite their interactions being negative. He forgave Namine, knowing she had no choice but to do what she was forced to do. Sora. Just Sora. Love him.

Riku. I couldn’t stand him in the first game, he was just a punk-ass teenager (which makes me wonder why he and Sora were ever friends in the first place) with a super inflated ego who just, kinda does a 180 after you beat Ransem and is good? But my god. I just fell in love with this precious bean in Re:CoM. I remember the best of Riku from KH2 (let’s pretend KH3 doesn't exist for a second here because that is in my opinion the BEST Riku) and it was so welcoming and CoM really bridged the developmental gap between 1 and 2. It’s nice to see him struggle with this darkness and then learn to utilize it in a safe manner. We see a lot of vulnerability from him too, when he’s being constantly mocked by Ansem and the few embers of Org13 he meets here, his own doppelganger touting how much better he is, not having his one form of support physically be there on the majority of his journey. Riku’s super snarky throughout the game overall though and I love that. He’s the complete opposite of Sora at this time and he’s absolutely done with everyone’s bullshit.

Ansem is really persistent. He’s the guy who just can’t take a hint, I can’t imagine his dating life is very successful. I don’t like him but I don’t hate him either. He definitely makes more of an impact as a bad guy in this game, frequently showing up to harass Riku. Obligatory mentioning my mistake in saying that HE was guiding Riku in the beginning of the game when it was actually DiZ.

DiZ is formally introduced in this game and he’s cryptic as shit. I dig his design but what the hell made Ansem the Wise take this form? With all those bandages he looks like a burn victim (I haven’t played BbS if this is what happened Im sorry) but the call of fashion still rings in his ears. Why belts on his head though? That was this series aesthetic until KH3 pushed plaid. Anyway he is also a character I don't have any particular feelings towards

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I think I’m going to take a break from KH for a bit. I got the Spyro Reignited Trilogy the other day for XBOne, so I’ll be playing that. I’ve never played Spyro before, I hope I like it!

#mellz plays kh recom #kingdom hearts series #kingdom hearts re:chain of memories #kh recom #PlayStation 2 #kh re:com #square enix #mellz post

[inanotherlifetimeiknowyou]

Welcome To Gotham

A/N: Wellllll. This is that high school AU I was talking about! For all the Bats to be in Gotham Academy High, I had to tinker with the ages a bit! So to understand the works, please reference this. That’s about it! I hope y’all like it! Special thanks to @mizmahlia for helping me out with the beginning!

Reader-insert

Parings: None for now!

Warnings: Zero for this prologue!

Prologue | Chapter I |

You chewed the inside of your lip, chin in-hand and foot tapping rhythmically on the ground. You’re sitting on your bed a bit hunched over as you stare at the closet. And you’re not even sure why you’re doing it! The school your parents enrolled you in is a private one, and you’ve already set the uniform down on the bed beside you.

Frustrated with yourself, you sigh and flop down on your back, head hitting the mattress gently.

Did your parents have to take a job in Gotham during your Junior year of high school? Don’t they have any idea how hard it’s going to be to fit in now? Your social life is practically going to be nonexistent! You’ll be an outsider among them!

With another drawn-out sigh, you cover your eyes with your hands.

Today’s the first day of the school year and your first day attending the new, unfamiliar school with new, unfamiliar people.

Oh you’re so looking forward to the rest of the day.

Determinedly, you get up and dress in the navy skirt, white polo, red tie, and black emblemed blazer. Frowning, you decide on some simple maroon sneakers for footwear before you sling a strap of your backpack over a shoulder and make your way to the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast.

Your mom is still asleep and your dad has long since gone to work. You glance at the clock and grab your house keys on your way out, making sure your phone is in your pocket.

06:40am

You’ve still got about twenty minutes to make it to Gotham Academy if you want to be on-time. That’s a plus.

However, that would leave you with another ten minutes of socializing, if one can call avoiding people like they have the plague socializing.

Mentally debating whether or not to head out now or wait, you gave up and hurried out the door.

A brief bus ride and five-minute walk later, you’ve made it. You’re at the new school.

Okay so that’s step one in plan Survive The First Day compete! Now for step two; find an empty place to hunker down in until first period. What is your first period again?

Biting a corner of your lip, you pull out your phone and find the screenshot of your schedule that you’d taken a few days ago. First period for you was… AP Literature. Sweet!

Nodding once to yourself, you straighten your posture and start walking around the campus littered with teenagers. As you look around, you start to feel very, very lonely. Everyone is either with one or a group of people, but nobody is actually quite as alone as you are.

You sigh, head lowering a bit.

Suddenly you hear someone walk up behind you, and you turn to see who it is. It’s a girl with wavy dark hair up in a tight pony tail and warm brown eyes behind boxy-framed thin glasses who stands behind you. She’s actually a bit cute.

There’s a kind smile on her face as she greets you with a small wave. “Hey there.”

How are you supposed to answer that? She greeted you like you’re long-time friends, not people who are literally just meeting. “Uhm. Hi.” You want to hit yourself for your lacking social skills.

She holds out a hand, introducing herself. “The name’s Mia Delacrúz!”

You smile shyly as you shake her hand. “Hi. I’m [F/n] [L/n].”

As she takes her hand back, her smile remains. “Sorry if this seems rude, but you don’t seem like you’re a native Gothamite. Where’re you from?”

“Oh, I moved from [S/N].” Is it really that obvious?

Mia laughed. “Yeah, it really is.”

Damn you said that out loud.

You chuckle, shrugging. “Is that a bad thing?”

“So not!” She waves a hand, turning her head to look to the main section of the courtyard as people around you start whispering and gesturing. “Oh,” she hummed, “they’re here.”

Confused, you move to try and see who she’s talking about. All you can really manage to catch sight of is a group of teens. Five boys and a girl who don’t seem all that special…

“Who’re they?”

Mia glances back over to you, turning back. “Oh, them?”

Your eyes are still following the group as you nod. Mia chuckles, looking back to them. “Those’re the Waynes. Well, Duke isn’t a Wayne yet, technically, but he lives with them, so.” She clears her throat as she starts to give you names to connect to faces.

“The really cute one is Richard Grayson, but he prefers that people call him Dick. He’s a sweet guy and a Senior. He’s the oldest, too. Th–”

“Why Dick?” You make a bit of a face as you interrupt, confused.

Mia huffs. “I don’t know. Ask him yourself. In the meantime, I think you asked me who they were?”

You blush a bit, glancing at her apologetically. “Sorry.”

She smirks. “It’s fine. Anyways, the tall one with the white streak in his hair is Jason Todd. He’s a Senior. Now, that kid comes off as a total ass, but he’s real nice once he warms up to you. The girl’s name is Cassandra Cain. Now her.” Mia whistles. “She’s a complete and utter badass. I once saw her take out four of last year’s seniors alone. She’s a Junior.”

You raise a brow, impressed. She looks so… fragile, it’s a bit hard to imagine.

Your new friend continues talking.

“Okay, the small one who looks like he’s going to stab someone’s Damian Wayne, and the short, paler one is Tim Drake.  Tim is a Junior. Real cute. Damian’s a Sophomore and actually not too bad once you get to know the kid.” Here Mia’s voice turns a bit fond, and you side-glance her. She catches your look and chuckles. “My little sister is a friend of his,” she explains.

“So, that leaves the kid you said wasn’t technically a Wayne, right? Duke?” you inquire as you look back to see the group joined by a two other boys. One a ginger and the other a redhead.

Mia smiles. “Yup! Duke’s actually one of the cooler ones. He’s super chill, and he’s a Junior this year..”

“And who’re they?” you gesture to the new faces.

She squints a bit, adjusting her glasses a bit. “Oh! That’s Roy Harper and Wally West. They transferred last year. Roy’s the one with the trucker hat and long-ish hair, and Wally’s the other one.” Mia shrugs. “Roy is practically Jason’s brother, and Wally is Dick’s best friend. They’re both Seniors.” The girl smiles a bit. “I’m very happy to say that Roy is a good friend of mine too.”

You smile at Mia, turning to face her. “Cool. What’s the big deal about the Waynes, again?”

At her incredulous look, you blush a bit and fidget with the hem of your shirt. “You really have no idea who they are,” she deadpans.

“No?”

“Do you live under a rock or something?”

“No! I’ve just never been to Gotham before!”

“Everyone knows who Bruce Wayne is!”

“I clearly don’t!”

She laughs. “Bruce Wayne? As in, billionaire playboy bachelor who makes a habit out of adopting kids?”

You pause as your brain starts to process the information and you gasp when it clicks. Bruce Wayne! The Wayne scholarship that got you into this school!

The man who basically gave you a future and your parents great jobs has kids! Who go here!

“Holy shit!” You clap a hand over your mouth and Mia starts laughing again.

“You finally put two and two together or something?” she teases with a cheeky grin.

Rolling your eyes, you gently shove her and she laughs. “What year are you?”

“Junior,” she answers and you couldn’t be happier. Maybe you have her for some classes! “And you?”

You smile as you answer. “Junior!”

Mia grins. “Awesome.”

The bell marking the start of the school day rings, and you compare schedules with Mia. You have first, fourth, fifth, and sixth periods together, which is awesome and more than you could have hoped for.

As the two of you walk into the AP Lit class, you catch sight of Jason Todd and Rich–Dick Grayson already sitting down. Dick is talking to Jason about something that you don’t catch, but the latter doesn’t seem particularly interested as he blankly gazes at the former.

You pause in the doorway as Mia keeps walking, eyes locked on Jason.

Holy hell he’s hot.

Unconsciously, you start to take in all the details you couldn’t see in the courtyard as people continue to walk past you into the room. The strong jawline, the green eyes, the scar on his lip, his broad shoulders, the muscles on his arms…

Jason looks over at you and catches you staring. He smirks and you feel the blush creeping onto your face as you duck your head a bit and take a seat beside Mia who’s cracking up.

…unfortunately, she’d taken a seat in front of Dick, which left you to sit in the desk in front of Jason’s. You can feel his eyes on you as Mia lightly shoves your arm, leaning over to whisper, “Smooth, [Y/n].”

The bell rings and you gently shove your friend back and she laughs quietly.

Your teacher introduces himself as Mister Walter Beaudry in a monotone voice and you internally groan. He’s one of those teachers, then.

He instructs the class to introduce themselves by saying their first and last names, and the name of the person or people who had gone before them.

“Snap,” you hear Mia whisper beside you. When she sees your raised brow she explains, “I’m terrible with names, [Y/n].”

“Well,” you start, “you got my name right. And theirs–” who the they was went unsaid “–so I’m sure you can do this.”

She gives you a small, grateful smile as the first person stands up and introduces himself as Andrew Daugnt.

When it’s Mia’s turn she stands, names all eight people who’d gone before her, then sits down with a relieved exhale.

You grin, whispering, “You got it, girl!”

Mia huffs a breathless laugh. “I did, didn’t I?”

You’re about to say something more when you realize that it’s your turn.

Quickly, you stand and name the people who’d gone before you, having to ask the girl in front of you her name since you hadn’t caught it. “And I’m [F/n] [L/n].” You give a very shy smile and wave before sitting back down. Having all those people looking at you had been a bit nerve-wracking, you have to admit.

You still when you realize that it’s Jason’s turn to introduce himself.

“That’s [Y/n], and I’m Jason Todd.”

For some reason you blush when he says your name as you try and sink in your seat a little. You hear a chuckle behind you and your cheeks heat up further.

Oh, God, this class is going to be unbearable.

Once everyone’s introduced themselves, the bell rings for second period and you bid Mia a temporary good-bye as you shuffle to P.E.

…P.E. which, of course, you end up having with Jason, Tim, and Roy.

Damn.

Sorry I ended it there, but I wasn’t sure how else to do it 😂

#nxttime writes #Batfam #Batfam AU #Reader-insert #fanfiction #my work #my fanfiction #my writing #Welcome To Gotham #My AU #Jason Todd #Dick Grayson #Tim Drake #Damian Wayne #Duke Thomas #Cassandra Cain #OC #Batfam highschool au

[aboysbestfriendishismum]

Chapter 43 - Exes, camp fires and big mouths (Part One)

In the previous chapter:

Meg and Angie are at the diner, at the end of their night shift, together with Grace, who’s sipping a hot chocolate as she’s being given advice on what to do with Stone. Lupus in fabula, Stone and the Mookie guys minus Eddie come to Roxy’s to eat and say their singer has stayed alone at the Potatohead gallery to work on a few songs. Angie secretly pays a quick visit to Eddie, with the pretext of bringing him food and coffee, and he reacts in a weird way. The following day Angie’s dad shows up at the girls’, earlier than expected. Angie proudly shows him her apartment, Ray’s not that enthusiast about it because it’s rather small and in poor condition, but he appreciates the fact his daughter seems to be living a nice and independent life in Seattle. He misses her though. In Angie’s room he finds the little collage board Eddie gave to her as a present, he’s surprised because it has Angie’s polaroids on and she’s always despised having pictures taken. Ray has a photo session with the Seahawks to do and they agree to meet later in the evening at the RKCNDY club together with their friends. Shortly before the beginning of the concert, Jerry’s at the club too, even though he knows Angie’s gonna be there too. Well, that’s the reason he’s there anyway. A guy tries to make small talk with him at the bar, he’s not feeling talkative at the beginning, but he ends up telling him everything about himself and the mess he made with Angie, without actually mentioning her name, spicy details included. As Angie and her friends get to the venue, he finally finds out the terrible truth: the guy he’s been talking to at the bar is his ex girlfriend’s dad.

***

“Oh shit, finally!” Jeff jumps off the hood of Laura’s car as soon as he sees her getting out of her apartment and going down the short flight of stairs “Hurry up, we’re already late”

“Good evening to you too, my love! Listen, where did all that sweetness you brought out the other night for our anniversary go? Did you burn it all at once?” the girl complains as she walks up to Jeff and rather reluctantly pecks him on the lips.

“What? No, no my love, it’s just, well, fifteen minutes ago you said you were coming and…”

“And…?”

“And Eddie and I are here waiting in the cold and ice, you could at least have thrown us the car keys… darling!”

“Eddie’s not complaining” she remarks looking at me and taking the just mentioned keys from her bag, then clinking them right before her boyfriend’s nose, but keeping them tight.

“Actually’s not even been fifteen minutes, much less” I point out and Jeff gives me a nasty look.

“Yeah, sure… he says so because he doesn’t want to offend you”

“Anyway I had to finish getting ready, so what?” Laura opens the car and takes the driver’s seat.

“But baby, you’re already beautiful and amazing, you surely don’t need so much time to get ready, that’s why I was surprised” Jeff’s scene doesn’t convice Laura, who bursts out laughing at his face before closing the car door on her side.

“Come on, baby, stop being an asshole and get up! Weren’t you in a hurry?”

Jeff immediatly does as she commanded and takes the seat on the front, next to Laura, while I sit in the back.

“I speak for Eddie, not for me. He’s the one who can’t wait to get to RKCNDY, right?” Jeff winks at me, but I’ve learned to ignore him.

“I just wanna get there before the show begins” I shrug as Laura starts the car and leaves.

That’s not true for shit, of course. It’s unusual for me, I know, but this time I don’t give an actual fuck about the show. I respect the band and have been told the Inspector guys are good and also funny, that they interact a lot with the audience, and so on. But really, I don’t give a fuck. Basically I’m going because Angie’s there and by now I don’t even waste time inventing excuses to tell myself not to admit I wanna see her. See her, then what? What do I do? What do I tell her? I’m so confused right now and it’s not just my fault, after all she’s got something to do with this mess too, she keeps sending fucking ambiguous signals. I mean, after I tried to ask her out with disastrous results I had basically given up and resigned myself to being turned down, and decided I should stay away from her for a while, also considering that I’ve been following her around since we came back from Canada. Well, resigned is a big word, say I was trying to focus on music and erase all the waves, scents, oceans with her name, looks, mermaids and any other thing that could remind me of her from my writing. And right when I was actually managing to do that, what did Angie do? She appeared in front of me, out of nowhere, with her smile, her raspy and charming voice, her inquiring eyes on me, so sweetly sharp at times that I almost feel naked and have the impression that she, I don’t know, likes me? But then I hugged her and she didn’t turn a hair, while I was getting drunk with her scent, which is both different every time and always the same. I was holding her and I swear my knees were shaking because I felt overwhelmed by all that peace and warmth and it was like I couldn’t fully embrace her, like I wasn’t able to hold and keep in my arms all that she could give me, like it was too much all at once. And I thought that if I had told her something like that she would have thought I was crazy, or high, or both, or she would have used her usual fucking self deprecation saying something about being too big to be hugged or shit like that, but I’d have shut her up with a greedy and euphoric kiss. And she’d have reacted with one of her infamous slaps full on my face or she’d have clinged to me and reciprocated the kiss twice as intensely and we’d have ended up rolling on that poor excuse for a couch at the gallery without really understanding how we got there. Or maybe she’d have kept it cool and then given me a side look and, with her diagonal smile, she’d have argued that shutting a woman’s mouth with a kiss is the most sexist and stereotypical thing a man’s mind can come up with and at that point I’d have definitely waved white flag and given in, and declaring myself officially hers I’d have got completely naked on the spot and told her she could do anything she wanted to me. None of that happened though and the mere fact I’m daydreaming about this and all the possible scenarios, as ridiculous as plausible, is enough for me to realise I’m not losing my mind for Angie, nah, I already lost it and there’s nothing I can do about it.

We’ve already got to the club and I didn’t really notice, I must have been no great company during the car ride, but Jeff and Laura don’t seem to mind. The line outside is basically non existing and it takes us five minutes to get in. Inside the club our eyes are busy scanning the people around looking for our friends and our ears are busy listening to the end of a song by Primus. Laura walks away almost immediately to say hi to a couple of girls who are calling her and takes Jeff with her, whereas I gesture something along the line of see ya later and walk around the room, hoping to find  what I’m looking for. And it doesn’t take long because as the song ends, as if it was a previously arranged scene, among the many unknown faces, there I spot it, the only one I’m really interested in: Angie, down on the left, standing beside a column, chatting and laughing with Meg, dressed in black, a tracksuit I guess, different make up on her eyes, black with something reddish, or purple, I can’t say it, her hand brushing a lock of hair away from her face and then indulging a little more in drowning the fingertips into the soft mane. Actually, I don’t know if she’s actually indulging in the movement or it’s just me seeing everything at half speed like in a boring romantic scene of a b movie about teenagers, when the main male character sees the girl of his dreams and goes in raptures and right then the ultimate love song starts like, I don’t know, True by Spandau Ballet, and she shakes her head and her hair move in slow motion and a single spotlight is on her and the rest of the world stops being important or maybe, as far as he knows, even stops existing. The problem is the scene goes on exactly like that, except for the song, which in my case it’s the cover version of Love me made by The Cramps and if possible it’s even more appropriate. Surely, Lux’s screams are more suited to my mood. Now Meg’s talking, while Angie listens and nods and has an interested expression on her face, then she looks in disbelief, then confused and then I lose count of the whole spectrum of emotions I see passing on that face, which must be relaxed and comfortable and doesn’t feel the need to hide anything from her friend, so it shows itself for what it is, naturally expressive. I like her like this, with no apparent protection shield, no masks, no filters. I wish she was like this with me too, and maybe she really is sometimes. No, the truth is I wish she was like this with me only, that’s a completely different thing. The former eventuality is discarded, it’s literally shattered in a few seconds thanks to a quick gesture by… by whom? Who the fuck is that? A guy with long hair and moustache who must be as old as Angie and Meg put together, he comes out from behind the column with two glasses in his hands, creeps behind the girls’s shoulders scaring them as a joke. Angela yells at him and laughs and takes one of the glasses from the stranger, who puts his arm around her shoulders and kisses her temple, just like that, as if it was nothing, as she lets him. SHE LETS HIM DO IT AND SMILES. Meg says something to them then walks away, leaving them alone. Are you kidding me? Slow motion and Tony Hadley’s voice stopped, now speed is back to normal, no, things just sped up considering I’m basically running towards Angie and the old pig. Has he just met her? Does he already know her? Maybe it’s one of her professors. I don’t have time to make other assumptions, I’m already a few feet from them, Angie sees me and as we make eye contact she calls my name and gestures for me to get closer, I smile and for a moment I forget what my previous intentions were. The face of the asshole who quickly turns around to acknowledge me soon takes me back to reality.

“You know, the first time I saw them they were opening for The Police, I’m talking about the Outlandos d'amour tour, so 1977 or ‘78. If I do remember right, I guess they were the first Cramps concerts ever, at least the first ones outside the US” I heard him say when I’m closer.

“Lucky you!”

“Oh well, they’re still around, you know? You can see them whenever you want”

“Yeah, but you saw them in the early days!” Angie says with admiration in her voice.

“Well, it’s easier when you’re elderly. Hi Angie!” I chime in like that, brutally and with no introduction whatsoever.

“Eddie!” she exclaims and looks at me as if I had just yelled some blasphemy in a church.

“Hehe that’s true, your friend’s right, being born in the 40s is the best thing ever happened to me, especially for my job. Anyway, as someone said, it’s all relative, each and every generation has its own hymns and myths: maybe the Zeppelin or the Sabbath of the future are performing in clubs like this one right now” the guy doesn’t bat an eyelid and goes on playing the part of the cool phylosophycal guy. For his job? Does he work in the music world? Or is it just what he tells girls to take them to bed?

“Can I have a sip? My mouth is super dry” I ask Angie and literally tear the glass away from her hand before getting an answer.

“Ok… but it’s just plain coke, nothing else” she explains even more perplexed.

“I really hope so,” I grumble to myself, but loud enough for the other two to hear, as I take the glass to my lips and smell the content in the meantime, before drinking some “you never know”

“Wow, I had no idea you had such scrupulous friends! They even check if you’re drinking alcohol” the moustache giggles and sips his beer.

“We always check anything, and anyone” I add as I drink some more coke. Seems ok.

“Since when?” Angie gives suspicious looks alternatively to me and the old man.

“By the way, we haven’t been introduced yet, I’m-” the guy takes the beer with his left hand and holds out his right one for me to shake and I can’t refuse.

“You’re someone who’s probably twice as old as her” I end his sentence with a broad smile on my face, as I vigorously shake his hand.

“EDDIE, WHAT THE FUCK?!” Angie’s face turns crimson all of a sudden and well, yeah, I know, I know she can defend herself and doesn’t particularly like this whole big brother attitude from Stone and Jeff, but I can’t just stand here not doing anything while this dirty jerk’s hitting on her.

“Well, actually more than twice, I told you I was born in the 40s, didn’t I? Maths is still indisputable, isn’t it?” I mean, the guy has the temper to joke? He has guts, I must admit it.

“I can count, you know, unlike someone who doesn’t understand he’s a little too old for an 18 year old girl” I drink some more coke, actually the glass is half empty when I give it back to Angie, who takes it without even looking at me. Is she embarrassed? Or mad? Well in that case she’s overreacting honestly.

“Oh god, well, too old, uhm, I wouldn’t say I’m too old. I think I’m the right age, I’ve always wanted a family, but not too soon”

“So you want to settle down with a young girl and have a family now that you’re aged?”

“Eddie, stop it, don’t you understand he’s-” Angie shakes her head and nervously laughs, but she’s interrupted by the guy.

“No, Angie, I think he doesn’t understand. I think I’m the right age, neither too young nor too old. A healthy age gap is very important, Eddie. If you’re young, girls won’t take you seriously and consider you just like one of their friends, whereas if you’re too old they’ll take advantage of you and have you pamper them, and most of all they’ll fool you right under your nose. You need balance” the man with moustache goes on, without hesitation. By the way, now that I look at him, he reminds me of someone… but who?

“This. This is… the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard in my life!” I retort folding my arms, probably as to prevent myself from punching him.

“Because you’re not a father yet, when and if you become a dad you’ll understand what it means, especially if you have daughters” he says and places one hand on my shoulder.

“What do you mean? It’s got nothing to do with-”

“It has because this is my dad, Eddie, MY DAD”

“Your… huh?” suddenly my hands are not itching to choke the life out of that man anymore, I’m suddenly hit by another wish: the desire to be immediately swallowed into the bowels of the earth and never come back.

“Ray Pacifico, nice to meet you!” the guy… well, ehm, Angie’s father holds out his hand towards me again and I give him mine, limp, as I watch him dazed.

“Mr… uhm, Mr Pacifico, I… I’m so sorry, I had no idea you-”

“Please, call me Ray, or you’re gonna make me feel old for real” Ray winks at me and I nod without saying one word, without even breathing I think, knowing that one minute ago I basically told the father of the girl I have a crush on that he was an old molester hitting on young girls.

“Nice to meet you Ray, I’m Jeff, a friend of Angie’s, one of the normal ones though” the bassist appears behind my back. How long has he been there?

“Hehe come on, poor Eddie, how could he know?” Ray tries to excuse me and I know deep inside he’s thinking I’m a loser.

“How could he? Angie wouldn’t stop talking about you and the fact you were coming to Seattle! Everybody knows, I think even the mayor knows” Laura jokes and Angie sticks her tongue out at her.

“Yeah, actually… well, yeah, I knew that, it’s just… I temporarily forgot it” I’m clutching at straws but in the end it’s just the simple truth: I knew Angie’s dad would have been her tonight, I just didn’t make the connection the moment I saw him with her.

“Say the protective instinct prevailed over reason. We’re used at being watchdogs, you know, with all the dirty people around and shit” Jeff gives me a heavy double pat on the back and as I yelp I forget my will for oblivion for a moment.

“Oh so you’re regularly being hit on by old men?” an amused Ray asks his daughter.

“Jeff meant in general” she sulks.

“Now I see why they were all so enthusiast about your volunteer job at the retirement home!”

“Ha-ha” Angie looks down embarrassed, then looks up again and her eyes are on me, eyes of pity.

“Sorry” I mouth to her, while Jeff and Ray keep not so subtly making fun of both Angie and I.

She shakes her head and half smiles, the usual small tooth briefly peeking out from the corner of her mouth then immediately disappearing behind her timid and soft to devour lips and that’s exactly where I’d run to hide right now, or simply to rest, if only I could.

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

“And right then I found out she was Meg’s new roommate” Chris cockily ends his story, the one I know by heart, the poor figure I could tell even if I hadn’t experience it first hand when I got to my new apartment.

“Hehe so you two are my daughter’s neighbors” my dad points at Cornell and Gossard and he does it so nonchalantly I’d almost swear he didn’t do it on purpose.

“No, he lives with Matt,” Stone explains pointing at the drummer “I live by myself”

“He’s still at home with his parents” Jeff remarks with a fake smile.

“I’m not with my parents, I have my own apartment”

“Which is also your parent’s attic”

“It’s an attic, but it’s a detached apartment”

“And your parents downstairs”

“But they’re two separated and independent apartments, Jeff, just stop it”

“Which happen to become a little less separated at lunch and dinner time”

“SEPARATED AND INDEPENDENT!”

My father enjoys the Stone and Jeff show, we’re maybe so used to that we don’t even notice. For a moment I try to detatch myself from the situation and observe it from the outside and I realise the guys are doing their best, or worst, it depends on how you look at it. I mean, Chris delighting us with slices of his life, Jeff and Stone picking on each other, sweet Mikey playing dumb and make the usual couple of ambiguous remarks about Meg, Kim who says a couple of words and ends up monopolizing the conversation, Eddie not opening his mouth, Dave drinking beer like there’s no tomorrow: each one of them is, or looks like, his own stereotype, everyone reproduces the topoi and the style elements that belong to them, just like the characters of a sitcom do in the first episode, to introduce themselves to the audience, to give the watchers the whole picture. In this case, my father can’t really complain, they’re all doing their best to give him an overall view of our existence.

“Oh well, personally I don’t even take such things into account, I’ve met school kids who’re still with their parents but already are perfectly self-reliant and grown up adults who live by themselves but have their moms or girlfriends come and clean their house, so I don’t really think it’s a matter of the physical place you live in, rather than the mental place you reach as you grow”

“Jeff has Eddie now, he doesn’t need his mom” Stone remarks after finishing his beer.

“What does it mean? That you’re good at doing the chores?” dad asks Eddie, figuring out it must be some kind of recurring joke.

“Err… well, yeah, I try… I mean… been living on my own for ten years” Eddie stutters something without even looking at Ray’s face and that doesn’t surprise me, considering the poor figure he made earlier. How the hell did he forget? How didn’t he understand it was my father? Everybody says we look alike, despite everything…

“Great! My girl here is a model of independence too, Janis and I tried hard to pamper her, but we failed miserably, didn’t we Angelina?” dad circles my shoulders with his arm and my blood istantly turns into ice.

“Aaaaaaw, Angelina, what a sweet nickname!” Laura cheers with her heart-shaped eyes, playing the part of her lovely self perfectly too. Too bad she’s the unknowing cause of a disaster.

“Oh but that’s not a-” dad starts answering and I even try to stop him.

“That’s not sweet, it’s just ugly, let’s just go with Angie, ok?” but it’s pointless.

“It’s her name by the way, not a nickname” and there blows the first bomb dropped by my father.

“Excuse me?” Stone and his arched eyebrow are the first to react and I had no doubt about it.

“Angelina, that’s her name”

“ANGELINA?!” Jeff, as loyal as the others to his character, yells and chokes on the peanuts he was crunching on at the bar.

“Angelina like 'Angelina… waitress at the pizzeria’?” Chris chuckles.

“I thought your name was Angela, Angie for friends” Mike is the most calm of them all, together with Eddie, who just sports a smile that’s half incredulous and sorry.

“Your such idiot! Don’t you understand he’s just kidding? He’s just making fun of her, aren’t you Ray?” Meg shakes her head and addresses my father, who’s about to disappoint her.

“No no, I’m not kidding! It’s her name, I know that because, well, I gave it to her” dad shrugs and I don’t need to look at Meg to know she’s drilling a hole into my skull with a homicidal look.

“WHAT?”

“Meg…”

“Six months. No, more… We’ve known each other for more than six months and you never told me your name?!”

“As you can imagine, it ain’t something I easily tell people, for obvious reasons”

“What do you mean? Angelina is a beautiful name, it’s my mother’s name, that is your grandma's” my dad looks at me pretending to be offended, but I can’t help feeling a little guilty, even though I know he’s just faking.

“Yeah, it’s a nice name, it’s just… a little old fashioned”

“That’s just better, it’s more rare, so more unique”

“And a little… you know, sounds very Italian”

“So what?” dad’s jaw contracts and he strikes me with his typical narrow and fake happy look he gives when he’s irritated.

“So… nothing, it’s very typical and-”

“What’s wrong with it being Italian? I’m Italian, you’re Italian, our family is half Italian, is there something wrong with that?”

“No! Not at a-”

“Do you have something against Italian people?” dad addresses the whole gang and they’re smart enough to understand the quickest is the answer the better.

“No!”

“For fuck’s sake, no!”

“Come on!”

“Not at all!”

It’s all a big chorus of denial, then Mike follows trying to deliver a more articulated speech, based on the premise that working at a pizzeria puts him surely on top of the chart of those in our group who love Italy.

“I can’t see why you’re suddenly ashamed of your origins…”

“I’m not! It’s just a kinda old fashioned name, an old lady name, regardless the geographical origin of the old lady”

“We’re not given names when we’re old though, Angie, old ladies called Angelina, like your grandma, were children too and quietly and happily lived with that name without complaining” daddy explains picking up a potato chip from another bowl on the bar counter and taking it close to my lips, not backing up until I give up and open my mouth to eat it.

“I’d happily live with it too, if only you didn’t tell everybody”

“Heheh oh shut up, come on, nothing changes for you, your friends will keep calling you Angie”

“Are you joking? Stone’ll be calling me Angelina for the rest of my life”

“You mean, for the rest of his life…” dad answers a second before Stone opens his mouth. The guitarist must be so irritated.

“Hahahaha that was funny!” Jeff high fives Ray, who obviously took only a few minutes to become my friends’ new best friend. Unlike me.

“Anyway, I thought you used other kinds of pet names for each other” he adds with one of his fucking winks.

“Shut up, dad! Well, now that you’re here you can hear it directly from him that he’s not my boyfriend, so you’ll just stop once and for all. Tell him Stone”

Gossard looks at me dumbfounded, than looks at my father, takes a deep breath and…

“Well, so… ok… wow… I mean, you could have come up with a more discreet way to break up with me, Angelina, don’t you think?” the dork replies.

“Stone” everybody laughs, dad included.

“And also, a better moment maybe?” he continues between fits of laughter.

“Fuck you, Stone” despite all this I think my dad finally realised that nothing’s going on between that idiot who’s holding his belly as he’s almost suffocating from laughter and I.

“I think it’s cute” on the end of a little laugh, Eddie says I think the first complete sentence since my dad shook his hand. This said, I have no clue what he wants to say.

“What?” Dave gives voice to my inner question.

“Angelina, it’s a cute name”

“What do you mean cute?! It’s a riot girl name” I sarcastically retort, raising my fist in the air.

“It’s a total babe’s name”

“Yeah sure…”

“Why? Can’t it be? A name is just a name, it becomes a badass name or a loser name depending on who has it”

“Exactly, consider that I have it”

“And culture and trends play a role too. A famous personality called in a certain way can change the perspective on any name” my roommate goes on ignoring my comment.

“Well, it depends”

“What about Banana? Stupid name in theory, I mean, it’s not even a name. But Yoshimoto turned it into a name, a badass name I add”

“Ok, but that’s not her actual name, it’s a pen name she chose because she thought it was easier to prononuce than her Japanese name, also because the words basically the same in every language. And she didn’t want readers to immediately understand if the writer was a man or a woman” I retort as I notice everybody’s listening to our dialogue in sacred silence.

“Fine. What about Dustin? Do you think Dustin is a hot name if you separate it from Hoffman’s image?”

“Well, it’s not bad per se”

“What about Wynona then? And Bo? Elton? Cool names from the beginning, right…”

“I’m pretty sure at least two of them are stage names, Meg”

“Well, fuck that, it’s the principle!”

“Meg’s right. You just have to wait until an actress or a model or any super hot girl called Angelina gets into the spotlight and grabs the public’s attention and you’ll immediately gain a few points” Chris chimes in, nodding at his own words.

“Pff very likely to happen”

“That wasn’t exactly what I meant, but…” Meg murmurs.

“And this is when I was supposed to say something like 'But no, why? Why should we wait for another? We already got you and you’re amazing blah blah’ but considering that you broke up with me five minutes ago…” Gossard shrugs and even my father can’t help laughing for his fucking sense of humor. Why doesn’t he take Stone as a boyfriend?

“And this is the first benefit I get from breaking up with you”

**

Luckily I stop being the subject of the conversation and at some point our group splits up and spreads all around the club: Susan arrives and she and Chris go away somewhere, Jeff goes backstage with Stone and Kim, my father wanders about taking pictures, Dave and Matt are deep into drummers conversation, but I don’t really know if it’s about drumming or not because I’m kinda far from them, still at the bar, with Laura, Eddie, Mike and Meg.

“Anyway, I agree with you about your name theory. For example, the name Meg didn’t mean anything before, but after I met you… bam, Meg is beauty par excellence” Mike comes up with this from out of nowhere, as we were talking about something else, leaving my friend quite perplexed, and not just her. And maybe that’s the reason why Laura walks away after a while, saying that she wanted to search for her boyfriend. At this point it’s just Eddie and I third wheeling.

“Hey, the concert’s about to start soon, why don’t we… start to… go that way, to see it?” I talk to Eddie and point towards the stage, he immediately accepts and follows me as I walk in that direction, and I don’t know if Mike notices we left, Meg surely does because she gives me a scolding look. The situation’s weird, but I know Meg and even though she’s trying to play it cool, she clearly doesn’t mind this kind of attention from him, I think she even likes it. But Melanie? Where’s she in this? I only hope nobody gets hurt, especially Meg of course because, well, she’s a friend of mine.

“Do you understand what’s going on between those two?” I ask Eddie when we’re far enough.

“Who? Mike and Meg? Honestly I have no clue” he answers, apparently surprised by the question.

“Neither do I”

“I only hope nobody gets hurt, not too much at least, you know” he goes on and it’s the very same thought I had a few moments ago and these pseudo-mindreading coincidences always make me smile.

“Yep” I rummage in my new bag looking for a kleenex since, guess what, I’ve got another cold. It must be the tenth cold since I moved here.

“Nice bag” Eddie points at my little camera-shaped bag.

“Hehe Ray discovered Pike Place Market today and bought it for me, as you can see my family’s quite monothematic”

“By the way, I’m sorry for what happened before, I’m such an idiot…” Eddie moves a rebel strand of hair away from his forehead and I honestly would have left that right there because it was just perfect in its being out of place.

“You don’t have to apologise to me, maybe with my dad, but you already did I think. And he took five seconds to forgive you anyway, so don’t worry”

“Ok, but I made you uncomfortable in front of him…”

“No problem, you weren’t the only one tonight anyway”

“Hehe do you think he realised Stone’s not your boyfriend?” he snickers and I’m not sure wether I should let him believe I was referring to Stone or tell him about Jerry befriending my father. I go with the first option, also because I don’t even wanna think about that jerk.

“I think he knows now. And Stone knows he knows. But they both love torturing me so much they won’t stop any soon”

“Well, I apologise all the same”

“I accept your apologies”

“And I apologise for last night too, sorry if I was… weird”

“I had already accepted those apologies last night”

“Yes, but when I apologised I was still in the middle of being weird to you, so that didn’t actually count, at least didn’t count 100%”

“You were weird? 'Cause now you think you’re normal?” I add sarcastically.

“Mmm nah, but a little more normal than last night”

“Ok ok, I accept these apologies too. Even though, it was me who invaded your privacy in the end and I think that any of us is free to be as weird as we fucking want when we’re by ourselves. And not just when we’re alone after all”

“You didn’t invade my privacy”

“Technically, I did”

“Well, maybe you did, but you can do it. I like it when you do. Do it more often”

“Haha something tells me the cake was good”

“The cake. Sure. It was delicious, thank you. And the coffee too”

“I only made the coffee so I can take credit just for that”

“No, not only for that… Anyway, you can also stay a little longer next time”

“I had to go back to work”

“I know, that’s why I said next time”

“Uhm ok”

“You never come over when we’re rehearsing”

“That’s not true, I do, from time to time”

“Apart from last night, I only saw you once since I know you”

“It’s just… I don’t know… it’s fun and everything, but in the end you’re there to work, it’s serious… I feel like I’d disturb or bother you”

“Are you kidding? That rehearsing space is like a motel, people are always coming and going”

“Ok, I’ll come over one of these days”

“I count on that”

“That’s if I find the time to prepare at least one cake or Mikey won’t let me in”

“Come on, just come see us… I swear I won’t do crazy things. And no weird hugs! Well, ehm, unless you don’t want them. I mean, normal hugs of course, 'cause I don’t think you… but also weird ones are ok if you… I mean, I don’t even know what I’m talking about. By the way, you know we’ve got new songs? If you came to see us, you could listen to them before anyone else…” why is he talking fast and nonsense like me when I’m embarrassed? Wait… why is he embarrassed?

“Oh well, in that case I can’t refuse, I must come to the gallery!”

“Ok, great. That’s if… if you’re not tired of seeing me”

“What? Why? What do you mean?”

“No, it’s just, you said it the other day… that we’ve been bumping into each other a lot lately”

“Ah! Well, yeah, it’s true, but I just said it like that”

“And I want to tell you again that there’s nothing behind that, I mean, it’s just happening by chance. Yet I, ehm, I like hanging out with you”

Oh oh, I know what’s happening and I know why Eddie’s strange: the poor guy’s looking for the best way to tell me he enjoys his time with me as a friend, a friend only. As if I needed him to tell me! What’s left to understand is if he’s somehow sensed something about my recent little fixation on him if it’s just a preventive move to avoid deluding me.

“I know, Eddie, don’t worry, I understand”

“I really like it”

“Look, I get what you’re trying to tell me, Eddie”

“Really?” he asks, suddenly looking taken aback.

“I feel comfortable with you too, also talking to you is nice”

“It’s not just a matter of feeling comfortable, Angie, I-”

Eddie’s clumsy attempt at telling me that yes, he really cares for me, so I’d better avoid ruining everything by letting strange ideas into my mind is interrupted by a choir of yells and wistles, which announces the band has just got on stage. That’s what I guess at least, because I can’t see shit as usual. The show starts a few seconds later, with a really funky song, who makes us move our heads and other things right from the start. I try and figure out the stage in my mind by putting together the small portions I spot between the heads, shoulders and arms of those who’re standing in front of me and when I turn towards Eddie I see him swaying around in rhythm. I don’t know why but this reminds me of his terrible dance moves at Crowe’s place on New Year’s Eve, I’ve never seen anyone move so ungracefully in my whole life. I start laughing the exact moment Eddie turns around and looks at me and gives me a broad smile and a thumbs up. Well, at least is in rhythm now, and he’s good at moving his hair around… and his hair is wonderful, so shiny and soft… FUCK SAKE, ANGIE, STOP IT!

I shift from left to right, from one foot to the other, trying to understand what the fuck’s happening on stage, and I spot a familiar figure: what I think is my dad, on the side of the stage, taking pictures. If I know him well, he must be at his second roll of film by now.

“Wanna go a little forward?” Eddie asks into my ear at the beginning of the third song. I bet he’s suffering here in the back, we’re honestly pretty far.

“I don’t really feel like going to the front, but you can go!” I shout back and as I do, getting close to his ear, his curls brush my cheek and it doesn’t help at all for my situation. Why the fuck must everything be so amplified? Do I really have to notice every little thing? And does every little thing necessarily have to affect me this way?

“I won’t take you to the front, just a little closer to the center”

“I don’t know…”

“Here, follow me.” he delicately takes my arm, that remains limp and falls back down as soon as he lets it go “Come on…” he holds my hand, smiles and here they are, those fucking dimples. He points at them himself after a while and if I had any doubts about him doing it on purpose well now I don’t anymore.

“I hate you”

“I don’t believe you” Eddie tries to drag me forward and this time I follow him, not without any difficulties, because I get pushed around each second and our joined hands are pulled apart by people jumping or moshing. After we lose touch because of the umpteenth group of guys running like crazy towards the middle of the room, Eddie stops and walks back to me, but it doesn’t take my hand this time.

“I think it’s better this way” Eddie is behind my back, he takes me by the wrists and folds my arms across my chest, doing the same with his over mine. He basically embraces me, creating some sort of protecting shield around me, and starts walking with me, making his way through the crowd. Moving now actually turns out to be easier and faster and less shaky. The fact it also feels nice to be held tight by such strong arms is obviously secondary.

“Is it ok here?” he asks once we get to a pretty quiet zone, on the left looking at the stage, from which I can even see something without standing on tiptoes or straining my neck.

“Yes, it’s perfect.” I reply turning my head to one side, but without turning to look at him completely, also and most of all because I don’t want him to see how much I’m blushing right now “Doesn’t this count as weird hug?” I add as a joke to relieve tension, mine of course.

“Oops, sorry!” Eddie lets me go and I almost feel like falling, as if I suddenly forgot how to stand on my feet.

“It was a functional weird hug”

“Yes and it worked”

“Exactly” I go on, every time turning just a little bit towards Eddie but without really seeing him or letting him see me.

The set goes on and Eddie’s behind my back the whole time, resting his hands on my shoulders from time to time. And for me prana, ki, meridians and chakra were, are and always will be nothing but a bit pile of shit, but the heat Eddie’s hands radiate is real, it goes through my spine, travels down across my legs down to my feet, then goes back up to my head, giving me really annoying goosebumps. Apart from that, my dad even managed to spot us in the crows and take a couple of pictures, all with a smart-ass smile on his face. Did Eddie notice?

“Anyway, I really like being with you” he says during a break between songs.

“At concerts for sure, I don’t block your view”

“Haha shut up!” he says grabbing my shoulders once again.

“And I’m comfortable to lean on when you’re tired” this time I turn around a little more, making eye contact with him, and at the same time pat him on his hand, which he immediately takes away.

“I’m sorry… see, I’ve been really all over you recently… I mean, literally”

“I can also be a small ladder when needed”

“Anyway… what I wanted to say before is that I’m not just at ease with you”

Ok, now comes the moment he tells me I’m such a good friend, that he’s comfortable talking to me, because I can listen and it comes natural to him to open up, that he feels better after we talk, that he feels understood and not judged, etc.

“Mm mh?”

“With you I…” Eddie stops because the band starts playing again, but then goes on, speaking at a little louder volume. Do we need to discuss this right now? Sure, he probably thinks it’s better to talk about something like this with the diversion of the concert, as if it was just chit chat between friends at a show, rather than sitting around the table and talk about the matter like it was some big deal. “ With you, I feel like home. And it’s not something to take for granted, because I’ve never felt completely at home, not even at my place. I don’t know if you understand…”

“Yes! More or less…” I go back to my previous pattern, quick answers and turning my head just a little, keeping my eyes on the stage.

“It’s like with certain songs, I don’t know if it’s like this for you too. Those songs you turn to whenever you need to feel safe, cuddled, soothed, backed up, understood. Like, I don’t know, Bruce Springsteen”

“So… I’m Bruce Springsteen?” I ask after being silent for while, not because he shocked me, but mostly because I liked the idea of putting a dramatic pause right there, I think it sounded good.

“Hahaha in a certain sense, yeah. I don’t know if it works the same for you with music”

“Yeah, but not with his music”

“You don’t like Bruce Springsteen?” Eddie grabs me from the shoulders more tightly than he did before and turns me around 180 degrees until I’m facing his inquisitive eyes.

“Sure I like him, of course I do, he’s the Boss, but…”

“But?”

“But I think I can’t appreciate him fully yet, I think it’s too soon”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a long talk and it’s also not easy to do it in the middle of a concert” I half yell, still with my back at the stage.

“I have a good hearing”

“Ok, well… I believe there are artists you can’t fully comprehend if you don’t have enough experience, if you haven’t lived enough”

“So I appreciate him 'cause I’m old?”

“Hahaha no! Well, yeah, but not exactly. It’s multilevel”

“It’s… what?”

“Oh let me think about it… it’s like… it’s like The Simpson’s”

“The Simpson’s?”

“The animated series on Fox”

“I know what The Simpson’s are, but… what’s the point?”

“The point is it’s great, a masterpiece, one of the few good things worth watching on tv. And literally anyone can watch an episode and appreciate it because it’s  multilevel”

“That is…?”

“That is it has more levels of understanding. There’s the main story, then humor, then different parallel comedy stints and a list of quotes and references, more or less famous, more or less hidden. A few weeks ago I saw this episode where Mr Burns was running for governor and there was this scene which basically was identical to the speech scene in Citizen Kane, and of course you must have seen the movie to get the reference and if you get the reference the suggestion works. But what if I hadn’t seen that movie? Would that have prevented me from understanding the scene on the whole? Not at all, I’d have understand what was literally happening, I’d have got the literal meaning, but I’d have missed so much, I wouldn’t have enjoyed all of it. And that’s how it is for me with Springsteen, I feel I’m missing something, that there’s some emotional reference I can’t get yet and that prevents me from appreciating him completely. It’s the same with Bob Dylan, I lack some levels”

“YOU DON’T LIKE DYLAN?!” Eddie’s literally screaming now.

“Dylan is huge, but I think I’ll appreciate him more in a few years. And between you and me, I can’t wait” I state right when the song ends, then I turn around towards the stage and clap and cheer at the band.

“What you say is right, but isn’t that the case with any artist and any work of art?”

“Yeah, but it’s stronger for some. Some artists just bring the baggage of a whole iconography with them, they always carry that burden on their shoulders, and Springsteen and Dylan aren’t just themselves: they’re themselves plus what they represent, they’re lifestyles, they’re whole lives, and it takes time to take a life and make it completely yours”

“See, it’s things like this too. This kind of conversation. The fact we talk about these things, it’s just… I love all this”

“Screamed conversations throughout concerts?”

“Yeah. And tell me one band or artist that’s home to you” Eddie insists, still talking into my ear behind my back.

“The Cure. And The Smiths” I answer without hesitation.

“I’m pretty sure Robert Smith and Morrisey can’t stand each other”

“Nobody can’t stand Morrissey. Even Morrissey can’t stand Morrissey”

“And you don’t need more life experience to understand them, right?”

“Nah, their music floats around in the limbo of pure eternal teenage, it’s the beginning of life. No, it’s the wait, the wait for your life life, waiting for it to finally start, for real”

“Ok… so The Cure and The Smiths”

“If you add Patti Smith you’ve just verbalized my personal Holy Trinity”

“Robert Smith, Patti Smith, The Smiths… there’s a whole lot of Smith in your triad”

“If I ever hit my head, go into a coma, wake up and decide I want a child, I’ll call him Smith or Smitty”

“Or you should just get married with someone whose surname is Smith”

“Yeah, that’s just what I need, more selection criteria to make things more difficult for me in social interaction and life”

“I like you, Angie”

“I like you too” I distractedly answer, trying to understand what the singer from Inspector said that was so funny to make the crowd suddenly laugh.

“YOU ARE MY CURE” Eddie unexpectedly yells into my year as soon as the band starts to play again. I roll my eyes. You just need to find yourself a girlfriend.

“Nah, you should see a therapist for that, a good one”

The show ends soon after that and one by one we get together again around a table, in a kind of isolated corner of the club.

“Not bad, I had fun” dad states as he comes back from the bar, unsteadily balancing a number of beers between his hands, I can’t count from here, maybe three or four.

“How many rolls of film have you used?” I ask, folding my arms on the table.

“Just a couple, I didn’t want to exaggerate. Anyway, did you see the bass player?”

“Ehm yeah, I think I saw him a couple of times behind the sea of heads in front of me, why?”

“Don’t you think he sort of looked like Sean?”

“Sean?” Thayil asks brushing his beard, after drinking some of the beer my dad handed to him before.

“One of her friends in Boise, he’s in Florida now”

“Who? Your ex?” Jeff asks and he’s sitting right in front of me and his long legs allow me to kick him easily under the table. He then tries to make up for that “Your ex friend?”

“Ex friend? Did you fight?” dad promptly asks as he immediately smells bullshit. Not that it was hard to notice…

“No, not at all”

“So why ex… friend?” I hate his fucking dramatic pauses.

“I meant that he’s a friend of hers, an old one, from her old town, her old life. We’re the new friend, the ones in office…”

“Mmm ok” Ray nods after a while, pretending to believe him. Of course, I’ve never told my parents anything about the mini break in which Sean and I briefly crossed the line of plain friendship, although they’ve always joked about that, as if they always knew. And if there still was a little doubt, Jeff dispelled it with a single move.

“Forgive him, Ray. You must understand he comes from Montana, he express himself in an rudimental way”

“Fuck you, Stone”

“On the other hand, you don’t look like someone who’s got problems in expressing himself through words, right Stone?”

“Oh no, he expresses himself very good, even too good” Cornell laughs.

“Say he expresses himself too much, period” Ament points out and the guitarists flips him the bird.

“I bet you write the lyrics” my dad tries to guess.

“No, he expresses himself enough in everyday life”

“Eddie writes the lyrics” I reply, blocking the umpteenth beginning of quarrel between Jeff and Stone.

“Someone who doesn’t express himself in everyday life as much as he should” Stone remarks, elbowing the singer.

“Mmm I don’t think so, from what I saw he can express his feelings very well when needed, can’t you Eddie?” Ray pats Vedder on the shoulder a couple of times and he just nods shyly.

“Hey, wait a minute. Did you realise that Stone, who basically never keeps his mouth shut, is the one who writes the music, while Eddie, who’s quieter, writes… the words?” Mike shushes us quickly to communicate his incredible discovery to us.

“Really?! You don’t say? That’s unbelievable, that’s probably why we said the same fucking shit just one minute ago!” Jeff remarks amused.

“Oh really?” Mike seems confused, but not as confused as he is after being poured a whole glass of what looks and smells like gin lemon over his head by the angry girl standing right behind his back.

#pearl jam fanfiction #grunge fanfiction #pearl jam #eddie vedder #jeff ament #stone gossard #chris cornell #kim thayil #mike mccready #dave krusen #matt cameron #chapters

[smut-camren]

It's A Family Affair (Chapter 3)

Somehow, Lauren had managed to avoid being alone with her little sister for an entire week; early morning practices, classes all day, practice in the afternoon, dinner with their dads, studying and homework in the dining room, and then sleep. She knew Camila would stay out of her bedroom now that she’d been caught, but still, a surreptitious hook at the top of the door helped ensure no one would intrude on Lauren’s slumber uninvited again. The dark haired girl hadn’t intended to avoid things for so long, but she really didn’t know what to do with the situation.

My baby sister’s been… molesting me in my sleep. How the fuck am I supposed to make sense of that?

Sure, Lauren had wanted her little sister – right or wrong – since they were barely pubescent, but she’d never acted on it. And Camila – Camila just took what she wanted, and didn’t even give Lauren a chance to say no… or yes. If Camila had only ever asked she would’ve given the girl anything she wanted. Was she really any better though? She’d betrayed her fathers’ trust, invited her sister into her bed, pounded her raw, coerced her into anal sex… god, how am I supposed to live with what I’ve done, let alone what she’s done. There was no denying they’d both wanted it though… and was it really wrong? Did it count as incest when they weren’t even biologically related? Granted, they’d been raised as siblings, but only for just over half their lives, and Lauren remembered her own parents.

The week had passed full of mournful brown eyes and hesitant greetings; Lauren felt badly for leaving her sister hanging, but she was no closer to a resolution of her feelings than she had been the night she’d woken up to her baby sister riding her cock. The inevitable confrontation loomed; it was Friday and there was no way she’d be able to avoid the younger girl all weekend. Maybe… maybe she’d go to Zayn’s party. He’d been bugging her to come for the longest time, and she knew what he wanted (and what he’d never get), so she’d avoided the situation, but maybe she could buy another night before she’d have to deal with her sister.

Camila thought she might be going slowly insane. Her sister hadn’t talked to her since the night she’d fucked her into the mattress, and while her body was too sore to notice the first couple days, she hadn’t gone this long without sex for months and her libido was really starting to protest. Not to mention the fact that she simply missed the older girl. She was used to sharing lunch, hanging out after school just watching movies or playing music or… anything, really – Lauren was her best friend first, and her sister second, and god, had she ruined everything after all? The only saving grace was the raven haired girl apparently hadn’t told their dads, so at least she wasn’t going to be sent away for being some sort of depraved sexual predator.

She wanted it though, once she woke up – I know she did.

She was tired of expressionless green eyes avoiding her and monotone, monosyllabic responses to her greetings. She’d resolved she wasn’t going to let another day pass without confronting her sister. Even if the girl hated her, it would be better to get it out in the open than continue not knowing. Lauren could hide out at Zayn’s party tonight, but tomorrow – Saturday was date night and her dads were likely to head out early for shopping and errands, and they were going to have this conversation, whether the athlete liked it or not.

Lauren knew there was a reason – besides Zayn’s pathetic advances – that she’d always avoided these parties, and tonight was reminding her why. A bunch of drunken teenagers acting like idiots, music too loud, house too smoky from cigarettes, backyard from… other substances, and cheap booze in even cheaper cups. Why did I think this was a good idea again?

As awful as it was, though, it was preferable to dealing with Camila, and, well, maybe a drink or two would make the night out more tolerable. After a couple shots and a magically-always-full cup of crappy beer that she swore she should’ve finished at least twice, Lauren was starting to see the appeal of the party scene. The situation at home seemed distant and foggy, and mournful dark eyes dissolved in even darker Jägermeister. Why didn’t I ever do this before?

A happy smile plastered on her face and a pleasant buzzing in her ears, Lauren stumbled into the backyard, somehow managing not to slosh her beer all over the couple making out on the porch steps. Flickering lighters illuminated small groups dotted about the lawn, and a pungent smoke filled the air. Coach Cowell would kill her if he found out about this – like literally, dead, stuffed, and mounted in the gym as an example for future generations of players – but Lauren decided if she was going to have the party experience, she was going to have the full party experience. Besides, even just the hints of smoke she’d inhaled whilst observing had softened the edges of everything that much further. She slid in with one of the little groups – they just smiled genially with heavy-lidded eyes – closed her own eyes and took a deep drag, letting the harsh, sweet smoke fill her lungs.

Camila lay awake in bed, watching the clock tick over; it was well past 11:00 p.m. and her dads were long asleep, but Lauren wasn’t home, even if Camila had still had the nerve to creep into the older girl’s room. She felt her stomach clench with shame even as her clit pulsed with arousal at the thought of her previous nightly activities with her big sister. She couldn’t help her thoughts straying to images of that chiselled jaw, the little dimple in her chin, the almost imperceptible bump in her nose, those expression filled eyes that shifted colour with her mood, her athletic body, and god her cock. Her perfect, big, hard cock, reaching places Camila’s own fingers never could.

Her clit was throbbing and she could feel wetness between her legs; she shifted her thighs restlessly, labia sliding wetly together. Biting her lip, she cast a glance towards her closed bedroom door and slipped one hand under the covers to push her sleep shorts down. She hissed quietly at the first pass of her finger across her slick, swollen clit, pressing slow, hard circles into the little nub. Her hand drifted lower, to the source of her wetness and she dipped a finger inside, teasing her entrance.

“Mm, fuck,” Camila cursed quietly, casting another nervous glance at her bedroom door. She wasn’t sure why – the room was soundproof and further down the hall than Lauren’s, and her dads weren’t in the habit of just barging in at the wee hours anyway, but for some reason she felt apprehensive about doing this tonight.

She licked her lips and collected wetness on her fingers, sliding back up to stroke her engorged clit. Whimpering quietly, Camila shut her eyes and pressed tight little circles down the length of her clitoral hood, stopping to press directly on the exposed clit – it was almost too much, too intense, and she groaned, thinking of how it felt to grind the sensitive bud on her big sister’s toned abdominals while that perfect cock filled her up. Her hand travelled downwards again and she shoved two fingers into herself, as deep as she could go.

“Lauren…,” Camila’s own fingers weren’t anywhere near the same, but it felt so good to have something to clench around and all she could think about was riding her sister, and fuck the athlete waking up and thrusting up into her while she came. And then, god, her big sister taking her, pounding her little cunt raw, shoving her fat dick into her ass, filling her holes with come… she wanted it again, every night, any way she could get it.

“God… Lauren, I want you here…,” Camila brought her other hand down from where she was tweaking her own nipples to rub frantically at her clit while she fucked herself with her fingers. She was going to come, and it wasn’t going to be the same, but she kept picturing her big sister above her, fucking her so hard and deep until she begged for mercy and she could almost feel the older girl in the room with her.

“Lauren… big sister… mmn, yes,” Camila’s mouth hung open and she rocked against her hands, her orgasm flooding her body with euphoric pleasure. The obscene, wet sound of her fingers working in her cunt faded and her ragged breathing evened out, and she suddenly became aware of the sound of harsh breathing that… wasn’t hers.

Eyes wide with fear at having been caught masturbating while moaning her sister’s name, Camila pulled her hands out of the blankets and looked around the room, wiping her wet fingers on the duvet as if she could somehow cover up what she’d been doing. Her big sister was leant against the closed door, pants pushed halfway down her thighs and hard cock in her hand, stroking leisurely. Camila’s throat was instantly dry and her insides clenched at the sight, even though she’d just fucked herself to an intense orgasm.

“Naughty girl… I was going to come be nice to you, little sister, but since you had your fun without me again, I think you can just be nice to me instead,” Lauren’s eyes were nearly black, her gaze hungry, almost predatory. The green eyed girl stalked toward the bed, her hand never stilling on her rigid member.

“Show me how you can be nice to me,” Lauren demanded, fisting her cockhead, aided by copious pre-come. She hadn’t been able to stay away from her little sister tonight; the alcohol and other substances in her system had made everything – all the guilt, shame, and anger – fade into oblivion, until all that was left was a consuming desire for the younger girl. She’d staggered home, half hard and threatening to break the tape restraining her secret, intending to give the girl a taste of her own medicine, even if she would probably wake up as soon as Lauren pushed her dick into her. Instead, she finds the girl fucking herself, moaning her name and coming all over her own fingers. She almost felt cheated, as if her baby sister had stolen yet another orgasm from her.

Camila sat up and swung her legs off the bed, moving to sit on the edge with her big sister standing between her legs. Her mouth watered at the scent of the clean, sharp musk and the vision of her sister’s perfect cock, thick and hard, her full testicles swaying lightly as she jerked herself. She leaned in and took one of those baby-soft orbs in her mouth, sucking gently and tonguing the delicate tissue.

“Fuck, baby girl… that’s right, suck my balls, little sister,” Lauren moaned, squeezing her cockhead. The sight of her baby sister nuzzling and sucking on her balls was almost better than the feeling of the girl’s warm, wet mouth.

Camila trailed her tongue across to the other heavy testicle, giving it the same, loving treatment. Lauren hissed as the cold air hit her wet, naked sac, and Camila brought a hand up to gently fondle her sister’s balls while she licked a hot swath up a porcelain groin. She pushed her sister’s hand away from that perfect cock and leaned in to mouth the bulbous tip. Her tongue crept out to tease the glans, relishing the flavour of the girl’s pre-come – a week really was too long to go without this. She wrapped her lips around the tip and craned her neck to push her mouth down around the long shaft, slowly taking the entire length into her throat.

“Mmm, oh god… look at you, such a cockslut… fuck, how long did you have to practise to take all of me?” Lauren felt like she was going to come already at the sight of her baby sister taking her entire cock down her throat. She shut her eyes, whimpering quietly and trying to think of anything else to keep from blowing her load so soon. She wanted to enjoy this.

Camila groaned around her big sister’s thick member, eliciting a little stream of pre-come that trickled down her throat. She pulled back slowly, lathing her tongue around the thick vein that pulsed on the underside of her sister’s cock. When she reached the tip, she pulled her mouth off and replaced it with her hand, stroking the spit-wet shaft.

“Fuck my mouth, big sister… you know you want to,” Camila challenged, her abdomen clenching at the thought of her sister losing control and filling her mouth with hot come.

“Nngh, fuck little sister, such… such a whore,” Lauren panted. She pushed the tiny fist off her cock and shoved her rigid length into the girl’s mouth. Wrapping her fingers in dark, silky hair, she forced her sister’s head down and began thrusting into her mouth, impaling her dick in that bottomless throat.

“Mmn, yeah… you’re so… so good at this, baby girl,” Lauren couldn’t take her eyes off the sight of her cock pistoning in and out of her sister’s hot mouth. “Unngh, yeah… take it, mmn, take it all.”

The movement of her hips grew jerky and she knew she wasn’t going to last much longer. Not with how good this felt, and looked, and how long she’d been thinking about fucking her baby sister tonight. She could feel her balls tightening and she tried to hold back, but she couldn’t stop her helpless cries of pleasure, her fingers tightening in that silky hair, her hips thrusting wildly.

Camila loved this; she thought she might come when her sister did – the green eyed girl had totally lost control, moaning and fucking her mouth with abandon. She couldn’t even keep up with the pace of the girl’s frantic thrusts and just tried to keep her mouth soft around the rigid shaft. Her sister’s spongy cockhead was hitting the back of her throat each time she thrust in to the hilt, toned abdomen pressing against her nose. Lauren shoved in hard suddenly, her fingers clutching at the back of Camila’s head, holding her cock deep in Camila’s throat; she swallowed, moaning around the still-hard member, determined not to waste a drop of her sister’s come. She clenched her thighs to relieve some of the pressure building between her legs at the feeling of her big sister’s hot come running down her throat, and shuddered when a small orgasm rippled through her. It wasn’t nearly as powerful as her previous climax, but it was better, because Lauren was here.

Lauren could feel her little sister’s throat working around her coming cock as the girl eagerly swallowed everything. If she could’ve, she would’ve come again right then, just at the knowledge of how much her sister wanted this. Her knees felt rubbery, and she was sure she was probably hurting the brunette where her fingers were digging into the girl’s scalp, but she couldn’t seem to let go, holding that gorgeous face against her, hips still thrusting weakly, emptying herself into her baby sister’s throat.

“Camila… little sister… so good,” Lauren sobbed her pleasure; she felt like she was never going to stop coming as she rocked against the younger girl.

Camila moaned around her big sister’s pulsing member, the stream of viscous come slowing to little spurts. She moved both hands around to rub the athlete’s taut ass as she sucked gently to prolong her sister’s pleasure and milk her of every last drop of come. Lauren’s hands slowly untangled from her hair, relaxing the bruising hold to carefully stroke her long locks while her cock softened on Camila’s tongue. Camila finally pulled back, letting the now-flaccid member fall from her mouth; she looked up to see her big sister staring at her helplessly, green eyes stormy with emotion, clouded with the alcohol and smoke Camila could smell on her clothes.

After a long moment, Lauren pushed her little sister back onto the bed and climbed in beside her without another word, pants still halfway down her thighs. She was passed out by the time her head hit the pillow and Camila just shook her head in amused annoyance. Pulling the duvet up to cover her big sister – at least they both had their shirts on, so it would look like they fell asleep clothed if their dads peeked in – Camila curled up against the green eyed girl to drift off into a sated sleep. Tomorrow, we’re definitely having that talk was her last coherent thought.

#lauren g!p #series #update #submission #Its a Family Affair