#The best thing to pull me out of art block is spring. And it worked too good. I don't have much time to do everything I realised | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

raedroid2004 · 9 days

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Never Too Young To Die

Chapter 1: Family on Vacation

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Moorpark College is the home of the Raiders and the bridge to the future where many students attend to be the best they can be in Moorpark California, a small but lively town in the state. Among these students is a fierce and stubborn but determined and kind hearted young man, currently studying during his second semester of his first year. Spring has begun and he, along with everyone else is preparing for not only final exams, but also sport competitions, musical performances, theatre shows, art showcases and much more.

“Alright Lance! Let’s do that routine now ok?” Trevor asked. Trevor was Lances instructor and had helped shaped him into the gymnast he is today. Lance stood out from the second he joined the college as he was one of the few male students who joined gymnastics, something most boys at school picked on him for. But his training was paying off and he has become more physically active and healthy than he was before.

As he practiced his routine on the trampoline, he noticed his two biggest concerns and their names were Barrett and Liam, two competitive wrestlers who loved teasing him more than anything. He completes his routine easily, ready to showcase it the next day.

“Good job man! I say that’s enough for the day!” His coach smiled at his student and Lance felt confident about his abilities. As he went to wipe off his sweat, he saw a young man standing outside the window. He was holding a device and waving excitedly at him and Lance simply shook his head amused. That was his best friend Cliff Gyro. He may seem awkward and talkative, but you can’t deny his enthusiasm, loyalty and especially his intelligence. As he left to head off to one of his classes, he saw Barrett and Liam blocking his way.

“Why don’t you try something more manly Lance? We need some new members on the team. It’ll be better than being stuck with annoying ladies.” Barrett joked. Lance was annoyed instantly but he wasn’t threatened.

“Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t. But if you judge me again, the wrestlers are gonna be needing even more players.” Lance warned, going under their arms and walking off. Barrett was ready to strike him but Liam held him back.

“Don’t man. Just let him embarrass himself.” Liam suggested. Lance heard and even though he doesn’t show it, he does felt uncomfortable by the amount of tormenting by those two. But it turns out that was the least of his problems.

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Lance got out of the building with his gym bag and backpack, finished with his exam after weeks of worrying. He saw Cliff waiting by their bicycles and fist bumped him.

“That’s the last one man and we’re home free!” Cliff cheered and they rode their bikes down the track to the dormitory nearby.

“Thanks again man! That watch thing worked like a charm!” Lance complimented. He was gifted a watch where Cliff was able to send messages to him from his computer. Even though they both were good students, sometimes life gets in the way of studying so they worked out a system together with their watches to give each other answers and Cliff was the true mastermind behind the idea.

“I keep telling you Lance! My inventions are for real! They work!” Cliff exclaimed.

“Speaking of inventions, what’s that new thing you got up at the dorm? It smells like gasoline.” Lance asked.

“Glad you asked! I’ll show you! It’s almost done!” Cliff answered excitedly. They took the path down to the closet dormitory at the campus. They had a room big enough for two of them. Cliff’s half was clean and neat, everything organized perfectly and full of electronic and digital equipment. Lances side however was more cluttered and disoriented, posters of athletes and comic books on the wall. They both had posters of their favourite bands on the wall such as Kiss, Motley Crüe, and unapologetically ABBA. They were hard rock lovers and secret disco fans. Cliff ran over to his side of the room and pulled out a large gun from under his bed and plopped it on his desk.

“This is the Pyroblaster. I combined with explosive laser, slang and some petrol. One shot out of this baby and it could blow up the whole room!” He explained as he started polishing it.

“Mind if I test it out?” Lance asked jokingly, going to grab it but Cliff snatched it away.

“No crazyhead! You’re begging to kill yourself if you do you goof!” Cliff answered, putting his contraption away. “But you can have my bubblegum bugging device instead.” He added and Lance smirked at his friend

“Actually I think we’re done with those gadgets for a little while. Cause we don’t need these anymore!” Lance shouted excitedly, ripping their class schedules off their board and they high-fived instantly. “You gonna be there for my routine?”

“Of course man! Don’t listen to those pricks. They’re just jealous they’re not as daring as you.” He encouraged, receiving a slight blush from him.

“Aw Cliff you spoil me.”

“You know, all for one and one for all? Ever since we were kids man.” They both fist bumped again before Lance looked at a package near Cliffs computer.

“What’s this?”

“Oh your dad sent it to you. And your sister. He’s still out there trouble shooting for companies?”

“What else? I don’t have a flying clue what he’s doing lately and it’s kinda getting on my nerves. I don’t know if it affects Sapphire though or not.” Cliff looked at him sympathetically. He knew that Lance and his father had a rocky relationship and did his best to support him. “But he did said he’ll be here for my routine so that’s a good sign right?”

“Yeah that’s awesome man! He’s gonna see you at the Gymnastics Meet!”

“Yeah I guess so.” Cliff gave him a huge hug and Lance looked over at a photo of his father Drew, mother Gabrielle and older twin sister Sapphire, 10 years ago. His relationship with his father was rocky after he started leaving to work after their mother had passed away and Lance only wanted to see him once again to watch him win. One could only hope.

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Deep in the Diablo Canyon, Drew brought his soldiers through the facility. This was the location of Velvets current attack and where her troops were waiting on him.

“Alright men. Let’s hurry. I got an appointment after this.” Drew ordered. His men included Carruthers, mysterious and dangerous, and Ronan, goofy but an intelligent strategist. “Please it’s for my son.”

“You never talk about them. So what’s our plan here pal?” Carruthers remarked.

“Gonna flush out Ragnar. He’s bound to be down here.” Drew explained

“Don’t see how this is a problem to the city.”

“Well would you like to drink contaminated water?” They reached a wall and Ronan laid out an explosive, breaking a hole to help them get through. They trenched through the new pathway for a long time, Drew leading the way, until he heard a thud behind him only to see Ronan knocked out and Carruthers standing smugly behind him.

“I grew I’ve got a new problem huh?” Drew pulled out his gun and tried to shoot him down but he escaped in the nick of time. Ronan was bleeding to death in front of him and Drew had to flee, otherwise he would be next. He ran through the passageways, searching for the exit but once he saw the room of stairways and boilers, he knew he was lost.

“There he is! Get him.” A voice called out. He turned and saw Rayla with two henchmen. They grabbed and dragged him across to another room and saw Velvet inside, hiding in the darkness.

“Alright boys. No need to get nasty.” He ordered. The two men forced him into a chair and Rayla went to stand by his side. “Now Stargrove, it’s been a long time since I saw you. I believe you stole something precious from me. A program disk. Care to explain?” He asked

“Come on this is stupid. Is that anyway to treat an old friend like.”

“It’s stupid to even think we were friends. But we can end things peacefully for once if you want to see your precious kids again.” He threatened.

“What are you talking about. My kids don’t have any idea of what I do. You’re threatening to kill him aren’t you?”

“Oh I’m not threatening darling. I’m promising to kill them unless you give me what I want. You don’t want them to get into the wrong hands, like your wife. And I’m sure my darling Rayla here would have fun with that.”

“Fine. I’ve got it with me. Give me a second.” He goes to his pocket before pulling out a dagger and stabbing the hand of one of his henchmen and bolting out of the room.

“GET HIM!” They bellowed. Rayla ran straight to her target along with her henchmen. Drew managed to kill each of them one by one but Rayla dodged each one and parkour was her strategy to catch up to him, showing no signs of slowing down until she shot him in the shoulder and kicked him in the back and threw him down a flight of stairs, landing on glass shards.

“Listen Stargrove, you should’ve given us the disk. You earned your chance and you blew it.” Rayla laughed menacingly, watching as Drew started bleeding from the cuts and gun wound he received.

“Please! I’ve lost too much blood to your partners game!” Drew exclaimed, not noticing Velvet walking down the stairs.

“Oh Dumbgrove you’re about to lose a whole lot more! Don’t worry. I’ll let him handle it.” Rayla replied. Drew turned around and saw Velvet holding up a rifle and shot him repeatedly as Rayla moved away, watching with a smirk as he laid down bleeding to death. Velvet laughed maniacally as he was killed right before his eyes.

“Free at last!” He screamed in joy. But as he did, a slight tear rolled down his face. Rayla noticed and ran over to wipe it.

“Are you alright? This isn’t like you?” She asked sympathetically.

“Yeah. He just done a lot in the past.” Rayla embraced her lover and Velvet stroked her hair gently. “I’m honestly surprised you didn’t take the kill.” He remarked

“Eh. I figured you deserved this one. Considering your history with him.” Rayla answered

“You’re so good babe.” Velvet responded and kisses her as they walked up the stairs together, leaving behind their past but unintentionally starting someone else’s future.

#never too young to die #velvet von ragnar #gene simmons #kiss band #kissblr #writerscorner

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docholligay · 10 months

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Never Have I Ever

This is a short story collection I got as a gift quite awhile ago, and as one might expect it took forever for me to work it into my reading list because I’m just like this and I have 86 things I always want to read.

Anyway, very glad this wasn’t a commissioned read, as I apparently have managed to lose the book somewhere between my room and pool deck, which is admittedly pretty impressive, even for me. I’m hoping it’s just under something back in the room.

SO! Non-spoilery: This is a Filipino-American paranormal collection of stories, that leans heavily on the knowledge of FIlipino culture and creature. Like all short story collections, it’s definitely patchy, but comes in with some really beautiful stuff here and there. Yap seems to struggle a little bit with endings occasionally.

SPOILERY:

So I can’t actually decide if I liked this or not. Yes? But also no. I saw the pull quote from Tamsyn Muir on the cover and was like, ‘Oh great, when it came down to it, I did not like Gideon the Ninth. Fantastic” BUt there was a lot lot lot more for me in this book than Gideon.

I CAN tell you that I wish I hadn’t been reading it poolside, because I don’t have a lot of exposure to Filipino culture and go I had to google a LOT for this collection, which I absolutely do not mind doing, I like to learn, but while I’m trying to relax in the hot spring, having to google a bunch of stuff to try and grasp the context of what’s going When I say this book requires a solid footing in Filipino culture, I mean, there are entire lines of dialogue, untranslated, in Filipino.

It is patchy--A Spell for Foolish Hearts, for example, feels TOTALLY out of place in the collection, which is mostly darker in tone and subject, and then...we have a fluffy gay boy story in San Francisco. The story itself, while not being to my taste, isn’t BAD, just a bit saccharine--okay, a LOT bit saccharine, and it turns out he’s dating the mist of San Francisco and there’s a funky sitcom mixup that leads to a romcom style breakup and gag gag lots of you would LOVE this but it just ain’t for me-- but it feels like a friggin pothole in the interruption of the flow of the collection. The first story, which I can’t remember the name of, was, for me, very “yeah, yeah, the monstrous feminine, we’ve all seen it” and while it’s not terrible, I suppose, it doesn’t break any ground. Many of her stories end hanging, which is fine, but they feel unfinished in a way. There’s not a lot of great drop lines. Sometimes I think Yap gets real tangled up in THE MESSAGE I AM CONVEYING and it takes away from her truly good handle when she allows things to get creepy.

Now, to stories I loved:

Have you Heard the one about Anamaria Marquez?: This was a great story that really played into gossip and what it is to be remembered, with a fairly light touch of possession and belief. I loved the way the rumors about Anamaria’s ghost wavered from wildly ridiculous to plausible, in keeping with the ways that all high schools have a ghost and that ghost always has a tragic story.

Asphalt, River, Mother, Child: This was maybe my favorite story in the whole thing, despite the fact that if someone accused it of being heavy-handed, I wouldn’t disagree. My friend actually said this story reminded her of my writing, which I found insanely flattering. Its about corruption and death and innocence and best intentions, and the exhaustion of compassion, how you can help so little, even if you are a goddess of sorts, but that small but still means something.

Hurricane Heels: This is a grown up magical girl story! I could have written a variation on this idea, I fucking love it. I don’t even know that I think it’s the most artful story in the collection, but this was the story that made my friend decide to give this to me, and you know what? She’s right.

How to Swallow the Moon: You see literally every beat of this story coming, if you’ve been around the block once or twice, but it kind of doesn’t matter. The only thing I don’t like about this story is that it’s written in second person, which is not the first time Yap does that. I don’t know if it’s to prove that she can, but there’s nothing about this story that fucking requires it to be in the second person. But, otherwise, it’s a beautiful and lyrical take on the whole ‘princess and handmaid’ type story trope, which really flattens how good I genuinely think the story is. The description in this story is as good as Yap ever gets in the whole collection, and I actually suppose if I had any other mild criticism of this story, which is once again a criticism of the collection itself, is, this story doesn’t fit. I actually think this would go better in a different collection, maybe one with Spell for Foolish Hearts, actually. I think many of y’all would love this one--nicely written stock fantasy beats, gay, happyish ending but not cloying.

So, yeah, there we are! I guess I would say I DID like it, in general

#doc reads #This took forever to write ahaha

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robinbuckleyshotgf · 2 years

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hewoo this is a request so nick nelson with a gender fluid partner with learning disabilities and they get insecure about it and nick comforts and helps them with their work

Oh my god i love this!! thanks for requesting!!

PLEASE SEND IN REQUESTS!!!

warning: mentions of su1cide, bullying, homophobia and life with disabilities

pairing: nick nelson x genderfluid!reader, platonic!charlie spring x genderfluid!reader

enjoy!!

-you were sat in the art room with charlie, waiting for nick to arrive. since you were genderfluid, it meant you could apply for a all boys school and if you wanted to move, you could go to a all girls school instead. charlie was on his phone, probably watching mac demarco concerts. you could tell by the way he was bobbing his head and smiling at the screen. charlie was your best friend, apart from tao and, of course, your boyfriend, nick nelson. since the first day of school, charlie knew the struggles with homophobia and promised to keep you safe from bullies. unfortunately, charlie wasn’t the strongest of boys at the school, so he couldn’t easily beat up bullies if he wanted to. but the thing he couldn’t easily relate to was your learning disabilities. it made your life harder than it already is. after your dad hung himself in the basement a year ago, you just completely shut down, still trying your best to focus on school work. luckily, you had nick.

“hey guys, sorry i’m late.” nick said, rushing into the classroom. he looked all dirty and muddy, probably because he fell over whilst trying to get here. he sat down and took a binder out of his bag. it was titled ”Y/N’s school work”. charlie took his headphones out and put them back in his bag.

“are you ready Y/N?” charlie asked, tilting his head to look at you. then, charlie and nick started having a tone when you got something wrong. you knew charlie and nick had not a lot of patience when it came to trying to do something, so you simply shook your head in disagreement and ran out of the room. the boys ran after you, chasing you down every corridor. you ran into (whatever bathroom suits you) and shut the door behind you, blocking it with your body.

“Y/N? are you in there?” a voice came from the other side of the door.

“no! go away!”

the boys looked at each other, before banging their weight against the door. eventually, nick wad able to squeeze through the gap, while charlie held it open.

“hey. what’s wrong?” he sounded really worried and that’s what made you sob even more. you had a perfect boyfriend, perfect family and perfect friends. you just believed that you weren’t perfect enough.

“i’m sorry if i make you angry nick.” the boy then sat down next to you and pulled you into a big hug on the bathroom floor.

“you’ve never made me angry Y/N, what makes you think that i will?” he says, rubbing your back. you took a deep breath in and then replied,

“i am shit at everything!! i can’t even fucking spell!” you blabbered out, throwing your hands in the air. nick’s expression relaxed a little before he chuckled.

“what is so funny?” you asked, wiping your tears away.

“i could never hate you Y/N. i love you so much and i’m sure charlie loves you too.”

you smiled and hugged him tighter.

“thank you nick.”

“no problem Y/N.”

#nick nelson #nick nelson x reader #heartstopper #charlie spring #actors #movies

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jrob64 · 2 years

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One Thrill Ride Leads to Another - Chapter 1 (A Bold Move) A CS Modern AU story for @snowbellewells

Happy birthday eve @snowbellewells! You actually gave me the idea for this story yourself when we were at the Ark Encounter and you saw the man helping everyone board the bus pull his sunglasses down and look over the top of them. You mentioned that you could see Killian working at an amusement park and doing that and, well, I took the idea and ran with it! Of course I had to work Graham into it somehow, too and he’ll show up in the next chapter. I hope you have a very lovely and wonderful birthday, because you are lovely and wonderful yourself and you deserve it! I also hope you enjoy the story and the art!

Special thanks to @kmomof4 who helped me plot this story as we spent hours in the car driving to her house, provided me with specifics of Universal’s Islands of Adventure, CityWalk and Disney Springs, and also read over the story as I wrote it to make sure it sounded right.Thanks, as always, to my beta @hookedmom, who jumped onboard for yet another one of my stories!

Story summary: While working at Universal Islands of Adventure, Killian Jones meets Emma Swan, slips his name and number into her phone, and later sends her a text asking her out. His snap decision could lead to her blocking his number, or to an adventure much more thrilling than a ride on a roller coaster.

Rating: M (for smut in future chapters)

Words in Chapter 1 of (probably) 4: 5549

Also found on ffn and Ao3

*********

“The line is moving, Em,” Ruby Lucas pointed out to her friend, who was busy talking on the phone.

Emma Swan nodded, but didn’t interrupt her conversation as she took a few steps forward. Ruby elbowed her and pointed to the lockers where they were to put any belongings that could be lost while riding the Velocicoaster. At Emma’s questioning eyebrow raise, Ruby pointed to the speakers above their heads, which announced the purpose of the lockers on a loop.

“Of course we miss you, M’s,” Emma assured their friend, while slipping her small purse over her head, placing it and her sunglasses in the locker along with Ruby’s things. “But you wouldn’t have been able to go on most of the rides since you’re pregnant, so it wouldn’t be very much fun for you.”

Ruby closed the door of the locker and urged Emma forward again. They continued to shuffle through the maze of metal bars, until they finally approached the loading zone. “Tell her we’re getting on the coaster soon,” the brunette mouthed to her blonde friend.

Emma nodded briefly. “Okay, I’ve got to…” Her words came to a screeching halt as she looked up to see the amusement park worker in front of her. The man was the embodiment of sexiness, and her eyes slid down his form to take in his sky blue polo, snug jeans, and navy blue Vans. When she scanned back up to his face again, he was sliding his sunglasses down his nose and peering at her over the top of them with the bluest eyes she had ever seen. “...go,” she finally finished, not taking her eyes off of Mr. Gorgeous, while tapping her thumb against her phone screen, hoping she hit somewhere in the vicinity of the red button to end the call.

“You were supposed to leave your phone in the locker, lass,” he informed her, and fucking hell, he had an accent too.

“Oh, uh, s-sorry. I was, um…” Every word in the English language exited her brain at that moment, as she did her best deer-in-the-headlights imitation.

The man - his official Universal’s Islands of Adventure nametag declared his name to be Killian - smiled and held out his hand. Emma was halfway to placing her hand in his, before her brain cells reactivated and she realized he was asking for her cell phone. Blushing furiously, she placed it in his palm. “You��ll end up right back here, so I’ll hold onto it until you disembark,” he reassured her.

Emma mumbled, “Th-thank you,” and managed to give him a slight smile, then felt Ruby grab her arm, leading her into a stall to wait for the arrival of the coaster. She craned her neck to follow his movements, as he continued looking for other people who had inadvertently forgotten to secure loose items in the lockers.

“Did you see that guy?” she asked Ruby.

“You mean the hunk of hotness you were trying to undress with your eyes? Nah, I barely noticed him.”

Emma smacked her friend’s arm with the back of her hand. “I was NOT trying to undress him!” she hissed. “But I have to admit, he is pretty…”

“Yes, pretty is a good word for him,” Ruby interrupted, “along with about fifty other adjectives that all mean ‘sexy as hell’.”

Their conversation was cut short by the Velocicoaster arriving back into the station. Emma scanned the wide-eyed, windswept riders and crossed her arms. “I hope I live to regret letting you talk me into riding this thing.”

“C’mon, Em - it’s gonna be fun and exciting. All of these people survived, so odds are, we will too.”

Emma rolled her eyes, then followed her fearless friend into the car and sat down, lowering the lap bar as soon as she was settled. Workers moved along both sides of the coaster, making sure all of the bars were locked into place.

Glancing around the platform as she waited for the safety procedures to be completed, Emma caught a glimpse of Killian, who flashed her a brilliant smile and gave her a thumbs up, just before the roller coaster shot out of the station.

*********

Killian turned to watch the train take off along the tracks, the blonde ponytail of the woman seated in the third row flying out behind her. He glanced down at her phone in his right hand, his thumb in the middle of the screen keeping it from automatically locking. Working quickly, he tapped on her contacts icon and hit the plus sign. When the new contact screen came up, he typed in his first and last name, phone number, added ‘the Velocicoaster guy’ in the Company space, and hit ‘done’ before he could rethink it. Then he went into her settings to find her name and phone number, which he added to the contacts in his own phone. The whole procedure lasted less than the two minutes it took for the coaster to return.

As he slid his phone into one of his back pockets, he considered what he had just done. He knew it was an invasion of her privacy, but something about Emma Swan - which was a perfect name for such a beautiful woman - made him take that risk.

“Hey, Scarlet. Switch me spots,” he shouted to his co-worker, who was standing on the platform close to the tracks, ready to help the passengers disembark.

“Why?” Will Scarlet questioned.

Killian was standing next to him by this time. “Because I need to return a phone to one of the passengers.”

“Just tell me what she looks like and where she’s sitting and I’ll do it.”

To Killian’s relief, the rumble of the returning train reached their ears. “No time,” he stated.

“Ugh, fine. I’ll be the ‘loose items’ police for a while,” Will grumbled, pushing past his co-worker who took his place. Killian turned expectantly, smiling as he spotted Emma Swan - disheveled, flushed, and beautiful - and nervously rubbed his thumb over the screen of her phone.

*********

Emma spent the entirety of the ride trying to catch her breath, and she knew for a fact it wasn’t just because of the thrilling twists, turns, and loops of the Velocicoaster. The man who was currently holding onto her phone was literally breathtaking. When she closed her eyes before they traveled down a particularly high hill, she saw the image of piercing blue eyes and unruly dark hair imprinted on the back of her eyelids.

As they coasted into the station, she saw him standing on her side of the platform, his sunglasses back in place. The coaster jerked to a stop and she attempted to shove some strands of hair loosened by the ride behind her ears. Before she could even reach down to push her lap bar up, he was there, raising it for her.

“Thanks,” she gasped, breath knocked out of her all over again.

“Here you go,” he said, handing her phone to her.

“Thanks…again,” she said, wanting to facepalm over her inability to say more than two words in his presence.

He grinned, before moving on to the car behind her.

“Uh, Em? You have to get out of the roller coaster now,” Ruby called from where she already stood on the other side of the platform, breaking Emma out of her daze.

She crawled out of the car and brushed past her friend, who laughed when she heard Emma actually growl at her.

*********

Killian rethought his decision for the next twenty minutes, until it was time for his break. While he sat at a table in the break room, he pulled out his phone and called his best friend, David.

“Hey, man! What’s up?” David’s voice came through the phone, before Killian even had a chance to get it up to his ear.

“I think I did something stupid.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it, but what is it this time?”

“You see, there was this girl…”

“Ah, well, now I’m sure of it!” David snickered.

Choosing to ignore him since he only had a fifteen minute break, Killian went on. “She still had her phone with her when she got ready to board the roller coaster, so I had to hold it for her.” He paused briefly, taking a deep breath before continuing, “And I put my name and number in her contacts.”

“You did what, now?”

“Not only that, but I went into her settings and looked up her information and added it to my contacts.”

“What made you decide to engage in that breach of security?” David asked in a more serious tone.

“It was a spur of the moment decision. She was…you should have seen her, Dave. She looked like one of those Greek goddesses we had to study about in that ridiculous elective class we took our Sophomore year.”

“That doesn’t give you permission to encroach on her privacy, Killian!”

“I know, I know, but I’ve already done it. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Now I’m not so sure. What should I do? I know this is a long shot, but do you think it would be okay for me to ask her out?”

He heard his friend blow out a long sigh on the other end of the phone, then waited impatiently for several seconds. Finally, David began to speak slowly. “I suppose you could try. She can always block you, and if she does, you’ll know her feelings on the matter. If not, just play it as it comes.”

“Okay, thanks mate. I needed somebody else’s opinion on the matter, and I knew Will Scarlet wouldn’t be any help at all.”

“Yeah, I can definitely understand that!” David chuckled. He had heard many hilarious stories about Killian’s co-worker during the months his friend had worked at the theme park. “Good luck and let me know what happens.”

“I will. Thanks again, Dave.”

Killian sucked in a calming breath once he disconnected the call, then pulled up his contacts and hovered his finger over ‘Emma Swan’. After curling and uncurling it a couple of times, he tapped the screen at last and chose the message option.

It took him another couple of minutes to compose the text. Hello, Ms. Swan. This is Killian Jones, the person who held your phone at the Velocicoaster. If you don’t think this is too creepy, I’d really love to buy you dessert at the Chocolate Emporium on CityWalk. My shift is over at 8:00 and I can arrive by 8:45. I hope to see you there.

Closing his eyes, he said a quick prayer that she would accept, then opened them and punched the little blue arrow to send the message.

*********

After collecting their belongings from the locker, Emma and Ruby found two rides with short lines, then decided to get something to eat. Settling down at a picnic table with a large umbrella providing shade, they spread out their food and drinks and Emma pulled out her phone.

“Mary Margaret probably sent me some messages since I had to cut our call short. I really hate that she couldn’t…WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL?”

“Whassa matta?” Ruby asked, her mouth full of the bite of cheeseburger she had taken.

“There’s a text here from that Killian guy!”

Ruby quickly finished chewing and swallowed. “The sexy one from the roller coaster?” At Emma’s stunned nod, she continued, “What does it say?”

Emma flipped the phone around to allow her friend to read the screen. After scanning it, Ruby’s mischievous grin stretched across her face. “Oooh, girl! Dessert at the Chocolate Emporium? I’ve heard that place is fantastic! Play your cards right and afterwards you can work off some of the calories with him!”

“Ruby!”

“What? Have a piece of cake, then have a piece of ass. It’s a classic combination!”

Emma pulled a hand down over her face. “That’s not going to happen.”

“Why not? We’re on vacation, Em. Squeeze every possible ounce of enjoyment out of it!”

“He put his contact info into my phone and found out my name and number. Don’t you think that’s a little weird?”

“So? The guy took a chance. What’s wrong with that?”

“I’ll bet he does that all the time. He probably hooks up with a different girl every day.”

“And your point is…?”

“I am not gonna be another notch in his bedpost.”

“Okay, so don’t sleep with him, but at least meet him for dessert.”

“By myself? No way! He could be a serial killer for all I know.”

“You’ll be in a public place! You’ll be completely safe.” Ruby thought for a moment. “What if I come along? Will that make it better?”

Emma chewed her lip thoughtfully, before rolling her eyes. “Why am I even considering this? It’s crazy!”

“Because the man is a walking billboard for male perfection, and you need to live a little. Take a risk. What will it hurt? If he’s a jerk, block his number, then go home in three days and forget about him. If he’s great, have a good time, then go home in three days and dream about him.”

“I don’t know, Rubes…”

Ruby’s hand shot out. “Give me the damn phone - I’ll send him a message myself!”

Emma yanked it out of her friend’s reach. “Fine, I’ll send one! Just give me a minute!”

“You have exactly three. If you haven’t sent one by then, I’m gonna do it.”

Emma’s brows knit together as her thumbs hovered over the screen. After contemplating for nearly thirty seconds while Ruby tapped her fingernails on the table, she finally began typing. She paused twice to gather her thoughts before completing the text. Raising her eyes to see her friend glaring at her, she heaved a sigh and sent it.

“Well, what did you say?”

“I told him I would meet him, but you will be coming with me.”

“Good enough. We’ll see how he responds to that.”

Emma turned her attention to her food, but found she was suddenly not very hungry anymore.

*********

Killian checked his phone every chance he got, his nerves jacking up a notch each time. It was nearly an hour before he saw a little red circle by his text message icon. Knowing the train was due back to the platform in less than twenty seconds, he opened the app to see that it was a message from Emma, but stuck it back in his pocket before reading it.

It seemed like the people disembarking and boarding were moving in slow motion, and he grit his teeth in frustration when one of the lap bars took longer than usual to lock. When the coaster was on its way at last, he grabbed the phone out of his pocket and read the text, sagging in relief at what he saw.

His fingers flew over the keyboard as he composed his response. I understand why you want your friend to come along, and it’s perfectly fine. I’ll see you at 8:45. Enjoy the rest of your day at the park!

He had a huge smile on his face for the remaining two hours of his shift.

*********

Emma wasn’t as stealthy as she thought. Or maybe Ruby just had a sixth sense for knowing when her friend was going to chicken out of the ‘date’ with Killian Jones. Every time she tried to take her phone out to sneak a text to him, Ruby wrangled it out of her hands and threatened to stomp it to pieces on the concrete. She even forced Emma to hand it over before she went into the restroom, blocking the doorway and refusing to let her pass until she did. The mother trying to enter with her toddler was not amused.

She wasn’t sure what possessed her to accept his offer. Now nervous, she dragged her feet like a petulant child as they left the park.

“Emma Swan, I swear if you don’t start walking faster, I’m going to come back there and kick your ass!” Ruby fumed, glaring at her from three full sidewalk squares ahead.

“It’s been a long day and I’m tired, Rubes. Can’t we just go back to the hotel and forget about this?” Emma whined.

Ruby stomped back to stand in front of her, arms crossed over her chest and a frown on her face. “No, we cannot. We’re going to meet this guy if I have to drag you kicking and screaming every inch of the way!”

“Why are you so insistent that I do this?”

Ruby dropped her arms and moved a step closer, her voice softening a bit. “Because you’ve been handed a golden opportunity to meet someone who could turn out to be a really nice guy, and I’m not gonna let you squander it. Ever since I’ve known you, you’ve been overly cautious when it comes to men, and look how it’s worked out for you. Maybe it’s time for you to start putting some notches in your bedpost.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “You know I’ll never be like that.”

Ruby shrugged. “Alright, so not multiple notches, but one is better than none.”

Emma widened her stance and put her hands on her hips. “No notches, Ruby. I’ll meet this guy and have some dessert, but that’s as far as it’s going to go. I don’t want you saying anything to give him the idea that it’s gonna be more than that, got it?”

Ruby grinned at her.

“I mean it, Rubes. Promise me you’ll behave or I’m not going.”

“You’re no fun at all, Em.”

“Exactly, and that’s how it’s going to stay. Unfun Emma. Now promise me.”

Ruby threw her head back and sighed theatrically. “Ugh! Fine! I promise I won’t say anything to give this guy the wrong idea about you. Happy?”

“Not especially, but I’ll take what I can get.”

Glancing at the time on her phone, Ruby stated, “We’ve got less than ten minutes. Now, put a smile on your face and pick up the pace.” She pocketed her phone and looped her arm through Emma’s.

“You know I hate it when you rhyme,” Emma mumbled, garnering a laugh from her friend.

*********

Killian walked quickly along the sidewalk leading to the Toothsome Chocolate Emporium, took a deep breath and scanned the crowded area in front of the popular restaurant. He almost wilted with relief at seeing Emma Swan near the hostess stand on the front steps, wringing her hands nervously, while her dark-haired friend stood beside her with a huge smile on her face.

He took the steps two at a time to reach them, weaving his way through the other people who were waiting. “Hello ladies,” he greeted, showing his own nerves by rubbing a finger behind his left ear.

“You changed shirts” Emma blurted, mentally kicking herself for making such a lame opening statement.

He dropped his eyes, glancing down at his midnight blue polo as he explained, “Yeah, uh, I had an extra one in my locker and since I worked in the other one all day, I thought, um…”

“Hi, I’m Emma’s friend, Ruby Lucas,” the brunette said, stepping forward boldly to interrupt his stammering.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Ms. Lucas,” Killian said, offering his hand.

She reached out to shake it, while admonishing, “Oh, please. Call me Ruby and call her Emma.”

“Noted. I, uh, I made reservations for us, so we should be able to go right in.”

“That was a good idea. They told all these people they’ll have to wait at least an hour,” Emma said.

“It’s a perk of being an employee of the park,” he explained with a smile, then went to check in with the hostess. As soon as she collected three menus and told them to follow her, Killian gestured for Emma and Ruby to proceed ahead of him into the restaurant.

“Such a gentleman,” Ruby whispered as she walked beside her friend.

Emma didn’t acknowledge the statement, keeping her eyes straight ahead. When they reached the booth, she slid in first, Ruby sat beside her and Killian dropped down into the high-backed seat across from them.

Before they had a chance to open the menus the hostess left on the table, Killian cleared his throat. “I…I wanted to apologize for taking the liberty of putting my name and number into your phone, and for using it to find out your information. I’ve never done anything like that before…”

Emma’s eyes shot up, the skepticism easily apparent in them. “Really?”

Killian felt heat creeping up his neck into his face, but didn’t break eye contact with her, willing her to see the honesty in his gaze. “I assure you this is the very first time, Emma. I don’t know what came over me, but I just…I felt like we had a…a moment, and I didn’t want to take the chance of never seeing you again.”

Ruby watched her friend carefully. Emma had a penchant for knowing when someone wasn’t being truthful, which Ruby had found out the hard way numerous times. The fact that Emma hadn’t immediately wanted to leave must have meant she hadn’t detected a lie in anything he’d said so far.

“A moment?” Emma questioned. “We only said about five words to each other. How does that constitute a moment?”

His finger went to work behind his ear again. “I don’t know how to explain it, but it…I…”

“I thought there was a moment, too,” Ruby jumped in, earning a glare from her friend. “Boy meets girl, boy thinks girl is beautiful, girl thinks boy is…”

“Ruby!” Emma growled, digging an elbow into her ribs.

Killian gave a low chuckle and started to speak again, when the waiter arrived to take their drink order, which reminded them that they needed to actually look at the menu. After ordering ice water all around, they flipped to the dessert page and studied it in silence for several moments.

“Have you eaten here before, Killian?” Ruby asked.

“A couple of times with some co-workers. There’s a dessert called Chocolate Brownie Bark that I’ve always wanted to try, but haven’t because I heard it’s huge. I could never eat it all by myself.”

Emma scanned the menu to find it, her eyes growing wider by the second as she read the description. “Are you kidding me? Listen to this: chocolate ice cream, chocolate brownies, chocolate whipped topping, chocolate sauce, chocolate brownie bark and chocolate sprinkles. That’s enough to put somebody into a sugar coma for a month!”

“Sounds perfect!” Ruby spouted. “We can all share it!”

“What do you say, Swan?” Killian asked, turning his eyes to her.

Her brows climbed up her forehead. “Swan?” she questioned.

The tips of his ears turned a deeper shade of red than the streaks in Ruby’s hair. “Sorry. I, um, it’s just such a fitting name for you and…”

“Why do you say that?” Emma asked.

“Well, you know, swans are beautiful and graceful and…”

“And fierce as hell,” Ruby threw in. “He’s right, Em. It describes you perfectly.”

Emma sat looking between the two of them, her mouth slightly open.

Killian cleared his throat. “Anyway, I didn’t mean to offend you, Emma.”

“You…you didn’t. I, um, I really don’t mind at all. The way you say it sounds nice. ”

“She’s right,” Ruby agreed. “What kind of accent is that?”

“Irish,” Emma and Killian answered at the same time.

“That’s quite impressive, Swan,” he praised. “Most people tend to think it’s a British accent.”

“I studied abroad for a semester and traveled to England and Ireland, so I got pretty good at recognizing the differences between the two accents,” she explained, a small smile of pride turning up the corners of her lips. Killian returned it with one of his own.

Ruby looked back and forth at the two of them and bit down on her bottom lip to keep from blurting out how well suited they were for one another. There definitely seemed to be a spark between them, and he appeared to be a genuinely nice guy. She just hoped Emma would be willing to give him a chance to prove it.

Their drinks arrived and the waiter took their order for the Chocolate Brownie Bark. Ruby sipped her water as she watched the conversation continue between the other two.

“Are you still in college?” Killian asked.

“No, I graduated last year.”

“Where did you go to school?”

“The University of Maine. Go Black Bears!”

He laughed. “What was your area of study?”

“Journalism. I write for a couple of different college sports websites.”

“That sounds interesting. Do you specialize in any particular sport?”

“Not really, but I probably like writing about volleyball and baseball the most. What about you? How long have you worked for Universal?”

“I worked here during the summer between my Freshman and Sophomore years, but had internships the past two summers. After I graduated this past spring, a friend of mine had three months left on his lease and he was moving to Colorado, so I came back here to work to finish it out for him. I’ll start going to grad school to earn my master’s in the fall.”

“What did you get your degree in? And where?”

“Marine Engineering at Florida Tech.”

“Is that like designing ships?”

“That’s one aspect of it.”

“That sounds interesting.”

“I’ve always been intrigued by ships and sailing, ever since I was a lad.”

“Did you come to America to go to college?”

“We moved here to live with my uncle when I was twelve, after our mum passed and our father left us.”

“You have siblings?”

“One brother - Liam. He works with my uncle at the docks in Boston Harbor.”

The two women exchanged surprised looks, but when Ruby started to say something, Emma shook her head slightly, giving her a meaningful look. Ruby snapped her mouth shut and reached for her glass of water instead.

Emma was enjoying chatting with Killian and was beginning to relax, but she wasn’t comfortable enough to reveal where she lived at this point.

“You still have a pretty strong accent after living here all this time,” she commented.

“It’s actually lessened a bit, but I’ve yet to shake it completely.”

“Don’t,” Ruby said simply.

Emma nodded her head in agreement, but before she could add to Ruby’s remark, their dessert arrived.

“Wow! That is massive!” Killian said.

“What are you two going to eat?” Ruby asked, plunging her spoon into a heap of chocolate whipped topping.

“You’ll have to excuse Ruby,” Emma said dryly. “She’s very shy.”

Killian laughed and Emma felt her stomach do a funny little flip, which she knew wasn’t due to the small mountain of chocolate in front of her. The man was affecting her in ways she didn’t really want to admit to herself.

“Ohmigod,” Ruby mumbled, her eyes rolling in pleasure over the gooey goodness in her mouth.

Emma and Killian watched her nearly obscene expressions of delight for a few more seconds, then looked at each other. “Shall we?” he asked, one eyebrow quirked up in question.

“We better, before she eats the whole thing,” Emma answered. Both of them stuck their spoons into the decadent dessert, then let out soft moans when the chocolate hit their tongues.

“I know, right?” Ruby grinned. “I would say it’s better than sex, but let’s be real!”

“Jeez, Ruby!” Emma exclaimed, using her free hand to cover her face in embarrassment, while Killian chuckled.

They continued devouring the confection in front of them, making comments now and then, but mostly just enjoying the deliciousness.

After Emma took a bite of a brownie dripping with chocolate sauce, Killian noticed a bit had landed on her chin and reached over to remove it with his finger. As soon as he touched her, she gasped, her mouth falling open slightly.

He didn’t seem to notice her reaction as he drew his finger back and licked the sauce off of it, but Ruby did. She eyed her friend keenly, taking in the flush on her face and the look of astonishment in her eyes, and smirked knowingly. She knew Emma better than just about anyone else did, and she had never seen her react to a guy like she was doing tonight.

When the dessert was gone, the trio chatted while waiting for the check.

“Did the two of you go to college together?” Killian asked.

“Yeah, we met our Freshman year at the Student Union when this one was having a meltdown,” Ruby answered, pointing at Emma.

“I wasn’t having a meltdown, I was just upset about my roommate.”

“Her original roommate was an absolute nightmare,” Ruby explained. “She was such a prima donna and an all-around bitch of the highest degree. After Emma survived the first semester with her, M’s and I squeezed her into our room without the university being any the wiser. We ended up living together until we graduated.”

“M’s would have been with us on this trip, but she found out about a month ago that she’s pregnant,” Emma added. “She knew she wouldn’t be able to go on any rides, so she decided not to come.”

“I doubt she and her boyfriend would be able to last a week without each other anyway. Those two are as sickeningly sweet together as that dessert we just ate.”

“In a good way,” Emma threw in. “We love her boyfriend, too.”

“In a platonic way. Nothing kinky,” Ruby said, causing Emma to cover her face with both hands.

Killian laughed again, thoroughly enjoying the conversation. “Do you still live together?”

“Ruby and I do. M’s pretty much lives with her Prince Charming.”

The waiter brought the bill and Killian placed his credit card on the tray. “We can help pay,” Emma protested.

“Oh, no, I won’t allow that. I was the one who asked you to join me, so it’s my treat.”

After he signed the receipt and got his card back, they left the restaurant and stood on the sidewalk in front of it, not quite sure what to say or do.

“How much longer are you ladies on vacation?” Killian finally asked.

“Two more full days, then we fly home Thursday afternoon,” Emma responded.

Killian hummed and rubbed at the back of his neck. After several moments, he spoke haltingly, “It’s, um, it’s still early. Would you…be interested in going to one of the clubs on CityWalk?”

Emma exchanged a questioning look with Ruby, then turned her eyes back to him. “Do you mind if we discuss it first?”

“Absolutely not. I’ll just step over there,” he said, pointing to a lamp post several yards away. He walked over and leaned against it, fidgeting anxiously. He truly hoped they would take him up on his offer. He didn’t want the evening, and his time with Emma Swan, to come to an end just yet. She was as amazing as he thought she would be when he had his brief encounter with her that morning, and he longed to get to know her better.

Once he was out of earshot, Ruby said, “What’s to discuss, Em? You seem to be having a good time with him.”

“Yeah, but having dessert with him is one thing, going to a nightclub is something else entirely.”

“Why?”

“Because maybe his strategy is to get us drunk or slip drugs into our drinks…”

“Oh, come on, Emma! Do you really think this guy is capable of doing something like that? He’s a big ol’ sweetheart.”

“Or that’s what he wants us to think.”

“You don’t believe that and you know it.”

“Sometimes you’re too trusting, Rubes. Bad guys do exist and I don’t know if it’s worth the risk.”

“You pride yourself on being able to tell when someone is lying. Have you sensed any insincerity in him at all tonight?”

Emma hesitated. Her friend had a point. She was usually very perceptive about whether or not she could trust people, and her warning bells had remained silent when it came to Killian Jones. Still…

“I agreed to have dessert with him, that’s all. Going somewhere else afterwards wasn’t part of the plan.”

“What else do we have to do? I’d kinda like to take in some of the nightlife on CityWalk. Aren’t you even a little curious how he acts in a setting like that - if he continues to be a gentleman or turns into a jerk when he gets a couple of drinks into him?”

Emma studied her sandals, uncertain about what to do. Lifting her eyes, she swung them in Killian’s direction. He was pacing back and forth between two lamp posts with his hands jammed into the front pockets of his jeans. As he drew near the pole closest to her, he glanced up and caught her gaze. His face brightened and he flashed her a sincere smile, his dimples showing just above his neatly trimmed scruff and his blue eyes sparkling.

Turning back to face Ruby, she conceded, “Fine, let’s go to the nightclub with him, but on one condition. If I start to feel uncomfortable around him at all, we’re leaving, okay?”

Ruby grinned. “Deal!”

*********

Thank you for reading, liking, commenting and reblogging. Please join me in wishing Marta a very happy birthday tomorrow!

Tagging: @xsajx @hookedmom @kymbersmith-90 @kmomof4 @lassluna @pirateherokillian @teamhook @stahlop @elizabeethan @whimsicallyenchantedrose @resident-of-storybrooke @therooksshiningknight @jennjenn615 @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @killianswannn @stories-enchanted @eleveneitherway @withheartfulloflove @kday426 @lyssapup27 @swanlovato @djlbg @kristi555 @laschatzi @xarandomdreamx @lkles08 @wyntereyez @bubblegum1425 @xhookswenchx @yasbio2015 @tiganasummertree @winterbaby89 @wefoundloveunderthelight @hollyethecurious @let-it-raines @jonesfandomfanatic @searchingwardrobes @dreamingdreamsalways @oncechicagolove @andiirivera @gingerchangeling @everything-person @klynn-stormz @qualitycoffeethings @vampcoffeegyrl23 @enchanted-swans @ohmakemeahercules @donteattheappleshook @bluewildcatfanatic @the-darkdragonfly @demisexualemmaswan @lavenderbudd @grimmswan @spartanguard @flslp87 @ultraluckycatnd @thisonesatellite @captainswan21 @zaharadessert @mariakov81 @snowbellewells @xouatxcs @kiwistreetswan @batana54 @nadine200179 @probalicious17 @courtorderedcake @julesep3026 @jackieorioncat @whatthehell102082 @jarienn972 @sthonour @linda8084 @pirateprincesslena @daxx04 @winterbythesea @artistic-writer @cocohook38 @captainswan4life85 @molly958 @kingofmyheart14 @badwolfreturns @itsfridaysomewhere@fallingforthecaptain @onceratheart18 @strangestarlighttree @omgmarvelousmorgan @justanother-unluckysoul @mrs-potato-but-likes-tomato @anothersworld @deckerstarblanche @purplehawkcaptain @superchocovian @k-leemac @citygirlscowboy @laughterandbooks @sotangledupinit @apiratewhopines @huntressandlioness1 @cosette141 @gingerpolyglot @motherkatereloyshipper @cs-rylie

#csff #one thrill ride leads to another #jrob64 #happy birthday Marta #cs fanfiction #captain swan fan fiction #fluff and eventual smut #modern cs au #amusement park worker #emma and ruby on vacation

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paigelts05 · 1 year

Text

Promises that can't be kept [FNAF Renegade AU]

https://www.deviantart.com/paigelts05/art/Promises-that-can-t-be-kept-FNAF-Renegade-AU-906173137

Renegade File Server Location: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36911932/chapters/92120410#workskin

Published: Feb 6, 2022

The first segment of this fic is from well before the release of security breach, yet I added the ending after I played the game. I intended this to explain why Vanessa Diego (this Vanessa is Vanny, not the security guard. The security guard goes by Sylvia in the Renegade AU, but shares her half sisters legal forename) is at the Pizzaplex. Whilst the intentions that I had planned for her are not possible anymore, I decided to pull the angst card and keep her original intentions, but just have Glitchtrap pull the rug out from under her feet, stopping her from acting on them, which will explain how the reluctant follower who fought back still wound up as the murder bunny at the Pizzaplex, hence the ending of this fic that takes place several weeks after the first part (and holds teasers and references to other segments of my AU). After all, even the best laid plans and promises can all come tumbling down. =°•.🌹 Story 🌹.•°=

°*°•°*°•°*°•°*°•°*°•°*°•🌹•°*°•°*°•°*°•°*°•°*°•°*°

"So you have to meet up with him because...?" Luis asked Vanessa as they got into her car. Ness's car was painfully average as far as cars went. It was normal looking, silver, common brand, standard wheels, no scratches, etcetera. It didn't stand out at all. "It's a case of meet up or die. He's losing his trust in me, and I somehow have to gain it back, AND somehow convince him that I need to take you around with me, otherwise we'll keep having repeat performances of last time if he catches us together again." Vanessa sighed, fastening her seatbelt and staring out of the windscreen, not starting the car until Luis had also fastened his seatbelt. "Right. Got it," Luis nodded. He had been wondering for a long time, and curiosity had gotten the better of him, "and how did you get into this situation anyway." Upon being asked, Vanessa froze. For a moment, Luis thought he may have struck a nerve, but when she smiled and started the car, he realised she was simply shocked, and somehow relieved. "Finally, someone asks. Time to unload almost my whole family history. Good thing the meet up point is so far away, cos I've got a lot to get off my chest," Vanessa spoke with a giggle as she started the car, then continued to speak as she drove. "As far as recent history goes, it all started with my great grandmother. She was such a simp. She had the hots for William's dad, and they wound up having a kid. A few years later, great grandmother got with another man and had Ina. By the time Ina knew about her half sister, she was all grown up and had had a kid - I mean Ina had a kid. Joy. Joy was young, and Ina had recently been laid off form her job because her employer was a peice of shit and when she asked to go part time to take care of her daughter, he just got rid of her completely. So Ina was out of a job and had a kid to feed. That's when her half sister swooped in and helped her get a job at Fredbear's. It all went smoothly for a while. Fredbear's became Freddy's, and the place had been open for over a year. So as it turns out, Ina's half sister made a the same deal with William as what Krasnyy's mother's parents made. Joy was 17 at the time, and it was one of her mates birthdays, you know Krasnyy? It was his 16th when shit hit the fan. Ina and Philip died in a spring lock faliures, and whilst Krasnyy - poor thing - stayed putt as he grieved his dad, my mum seemed to know something was up and booked it to live with her grandma on her dad's side. Did I forget to mention that Ina's husband fucked off, leaving Ina on her own, but, like, his family preferred her to him so deadass just treated her like a daughter still? A few years later, the apartment block they were in was set on fire. It was the middle of the day, and as it was a small building and most people weren't home, no-one actually died, but some people did suffer horrible injuries as they evacuated. You see, my mum was blinded by something whacking her in the face and she ran out the back. No-one found her, so she was pronounced dead dispite there being no body or evidence to prove it. The arsonist was caught, and guess who it was: Ina's half sister. Now, my mum decided it would be safer to assume a fake identity, and even though she was still living with her dad's mum, she was safe somehow. She did have to hop between jobs, which wasn't easy for her, but she was safe. Especially after her mum's half sister died in prison in 92, and Joy was able to go by her own name again, and then she got with this guy and had my half sister. He was a right slimy bastard and tried to accuse her of all sorts of shit. All of it fell through, cos mum's blind. She can't see shit, so all of what he tried to accuse her of fell through, but he still got custody of my half sister cos he had better divorce lawyers and made my half sis lie. My half sis even said that it was a lie, but the bastard just had better lawyers. A few years later, Joy found someone else, and she had me. Even though gran's half sister is dead, I know she's the one who roped me into this. There's this 'item' we have in our family. Whilst normal people can get posessed and fight it off, this item basically makes it nigh-impossible to fight back. Only she could have done this. If it was just the physical item, I'd have not had to do anything for him as he wouldn't be able to use it, but only someone from my family knows how to make it work, so out of all my relatives, only she would have used that relic to make what happened happen. If that damn thing didn't exist, I'd have been able to fight him off just like Cassey and Sylvia did. But I can't. It's a lot harder to fight him off for me. And if I don't do something soon, they'll have complete control over me." When she paused to take a deep breath, Vanessa realised that there were almost there. "Anyway, you know the rest, about that relic and everything recent." She said as she pulled into the car park for the old headquarters of Fazbear Entertainment. Fazbear Entertainment had tried time and time again to make the public think that it had distanced itself from the killers that worked there, but it was all a lie. An expensive lie, given that this time they had even moved all their workers from the regional HQ's to the main one in Utah after building some extra wings there, which left the monolithic building in Chicago empty bar the labs in the basement. Luis was about to step out of the car, when Vanessa stoped him, only saying "Wait," as she got out the car and grabbed some things from the boot. She came back wearing her mask, with a backpack presumably full of blood bags, her nail bat, and some bandages. Taking a small blood bag our of her backpack, she told Luis "If you don't want to ruin your jacket we're leaving it in the car, so take it off. I've got to make you look a bit roughed up." Luis obliged and tossed his jacket onto the back seat. Vanessa then put some of the blood on her hands and ran them through Luis's hair, purposely messing it up. She then flicked some of the blood onto his shirt before smearing some of it onto his face before quickly wrapping bandages around his head, covering his eyes. Then, she adjusted the bandages so that Luis could see. "And this is supposed to do what?" Luis asked, to which Vanessa replied, "I've got my mask, this is your mask. He's more likely to trust me with you if you look like this. Also makes it seem like I've actually converted you to work with me with him. Also if I actually hit you as hard as I told him I did, that scratch on your head wouldn't have healed by now." "But it's been a few weeks." "About that... Lie number 2; frequency." "Oh. ... Oh. I see. So you need to keep your story straight basically." "Pretty much." Luis nodded, then stood up. "Sounds like a pretty daunting task. I just hope everyone at work is ok." "Hopefully. Even with that happening yesterday, I'm sure they'll be safe," Vanessa then checked her watch, "we've got to get moving though. The upper elevators don't work, and he's expecting us to meet him in his old office." Luis didn't like the idea of walking up several flights of stairs in a rotting old building half blind, but if it brought them closer to getting rid of William and stopping that other old dude from attempting to recreate the great fire of London again, it would be worth it. Getting in the building was easy. The door was unlocked, so they walked straight in. Strange machines were dotted about, and it seemed that personnel had been replaced with robots. "Try to look dead inside," Vanessa whispered to Luis, "They'll only bother you if you seem to have free will." Luis tried to fake a deadpan expression, but his fear made this a struggle. But it was good enough. The security gates at the stairwell were deactivated, and had been for many years, which was apparent because they were torn to shreds and rusting from the inside out. Continuing past the ruins of the security gates and up the stairs, they pushed forward. After six flights of stairs, they were only at the third floor, and they both were getting exhausted. Another five flights of stairs, and surprisingly enough, it was Vanessa who collapsed to her knees. "Damnit," she bearly pushed the words out as her throat felt as if it were on fire. Her knees had pretty much given in, and they still had nine flights of stairs to climb. "Why did the meet up point have to be so high up." She rummaged through her bag and grabbed two water bottles, passing one to Luis. The two took a short break, but they didn't have much time left, so Luis helped Vanessa up, and they carried on up the stairs. "Damn my knees, if they weren't shitty, we'd probably be a lot further up by now." This was not the first time that Luis had heard Vanessa complain about her knees. It had been a recurring thing and had frequently determined the route they'd take when going on walks, but it was times like these where it was obvious how intrusive her bad knees could get. When it was clear that she was struggling, he helped her keep standing and moving up the stairwell. "We're almost there. Just keep up the act, and everything will be fine." Luis nodded. He hadn't spoke since they entered the building, and he wasn't going to blow their cover by talking now. Heading through the double doors, they saw Glitchtrap standing at the end of the hallway. "You were beginning to run a bit late, so I thought I would come and find you." It's voice was staticy and put both of them on edge. "Stairs," Vanessa replied, still trying to catch her breath, "could we meet up on a lower floor next time. I've told you about my knees before." "Subsequent meetings will be held on floor four. This one shall still take place in my office." They all made their way to the room at the end of the corridor. Luis wondered how Vanessa was staying so calm. His heart was pounding in his chest, and not in a good way. Vanessa wondered how Luis was keeping up his dead-inside act so well. She could hear her heartbeat in her head as adrenaline pumped through her body. "Take a seat," Glitchtrap said as he opened the door to his office. The gesture had a grandiose and regal air, which when combined with his businessman demeanor felt rather patronising. Especially coming from an oversized plush toy. The first thing you'd notice about this office is that it was a mess: documents strewn everywhere, drawers ripped out of filing cabinets and desks and tossed across the room, a broken paper guillotine sitting on the desk, stained with blood that had to have been at least a few years old. A fight clearly happened here many years ago, with no effort at cleanup since. Vanessa's observations were promptly cut short by Glitchtrap's staticy voice, "let's review your progress." Vanessa's attention was drawn away from the trashed surroundings and back to the ghost piloting a fursuit who was now sitting behind the desk. If the tonal change at the door was the start of his facade switching, then he had truly switched facades, changing from the maniac that she knew to the businessman she didn't know. His tone had also changed completely from the homicidal restaurant mascot he initially confronted her as to that of a disappointed CEO. "So far," Glitchtrap continued, "you've amassed one follower and appear to be working on amassing five others. As for your other tasks, you say you've selected a target, but I'm yet to see you take any action." The staticy voice held an air of superiority, like a boss giving orders to a worker. "Other than that, you've only managed to start a few minor tasks." Glitchtrap glared at her as if he were looking down his nose through a pair of glasses, "I'm beginning to believe you aren't as competent at this as you claim to be. The only things you've managed to complete are things I've overseen." Hearing those words made Vanessa's blood run cold. She was worried that he was catching on, or worse, that he had given up all together and was going to turn her into some mindless servant using that blasted heirloom of hers that he stole. At least her mask hid her face, so hopefully he wouldn't be able to tell that she was scared. "So," he continued, "Do you have any reason why you've not managed to accomplish much?" Now that she had an invitation to speak, she had to think of something to say, and fast. What would William Afton want to hear? What excuses would be acceptable? What would he tell him? She had it. "I've been making small steps, but I didn't want to get caught." Vanessa started, remembering what a friend of her mum's friend had told her, "You see, each opportunity hasn't been as seizable as you'd perceive. There are far more security cameras in the world nowadays, so finding suitable locations is not as easy as it was back in the eighties." A sly grin crept across Glitchtrap's face before he spoke again. "I see you've done your homework. I'll let your lack of action slide for now. Especially since I have a special task for you, which may make your current task easier. I want you to go to this mall. Freddy's Pizza megaplex, or did they abbreviate it without my express permission. I can't recall. But I want you to go there. It's under my command, so cameras and witnesses will be a non-issue, and there will be plenty of targets for you to trap and pick off. A woman works there with the same first name as you. You may find killing and framing her at some point useful so we can get many targets in one and keep you in the clear - as you seem to enjoy having all your bases covered." Vanessa meekly nodded back, "Alright. I'll start working on a better disguise than just this mask, and get to work as soon as possible." "Good. Now don't let me down." And with that, Glitchtrap vanished, and thier meeting was over. Vanessa dismissed herself and Luis - who had been standing next to Vanessa doing absolutely nothing the whole time - from the office and proceeded down the stairs in silence. Once they were back in the car, Vanessa removed her mask and passed Luis his jacket back. "We can talk freely now." She said before collapsing on the steering wheel, exhausted, both physically and mentally. "I can't believe he wants me to kill my half sister. This can't be happening." Vanessa said as she sunk further into the seat. "I thought your half sister was called Sylvia?" Luis replied, a bit confused. "Yeah, her legal name is Vanessa. She goes by her middle name. Mum didn't know until the court case as she didn't know her first husband had switched the names. Anyway, that's besides the point." Vanessa shook her head before continuing, "He wants me to go somewhere and kill a bunch of kids, and then frame Sylvia for it all." "All he seems to actually want is for you to kill people. He didn't seem that happy about you 'converting' me - he definitely wanted me dead. How have you been able to dodge his requests so far like that? Are you ok, like, mentally? Are you sure he's not catching on?" "Sure I'm sure. If these excuses were valid for Vincent in the 90's they're even more valid now, but it won't hold forever." "Vincent? Isn't he that Springtrap we put all those poisonous flowers on after he got delivered to us? You know, the dude who immediately started complaining about the people that dragged him to us, but he was actually really nice and really just a pleasant guy even though he's dead? Him?" "Yep. That one," Vanessa sighed, "he actually used to work as a hitman under the orders of William's right hand man. He wants William gone as much as I do, so I might be asking him for help. It might be a last resort though, as talking with him outside of animatronic maintainance would instantly tell William that I'm betraying him." "Right." Luis was a bit shocked, but somehow not surprised about any of that. He was pretty numb to the shock of learning about dark pasts and such, so learning that the undead man with an interest in gardening was actually a hitman actually made a lot of sense. "So," Luis continued, "we keep on bluffing and call Vincent as a last resort as a helping hand?" "Kind of," Vanessa said as she started the car, "Well keep bluffing, but as soon as we call for help, it'll be all hands on deck. Vincent, Cassey, Mike, Sylvia, everyone. If I want to stand a chance, I'll need all the help I can get. Once I go to the megaplex on my own terms, that'll be the day it all ends. I'll take him down there, no matter what it takes." ***** The memory of that day stung in Luis's chest as he stood at the door to the guest room. Moonlight beamed in and basked the small room and the open cardboard box in the centre in a silver glow, whilst the shadows were bathed in blue. The curtains bellowed out of the window, almost beckoning him to approach. As he stepped toward the window, other memories flooded into his head. Like how when they returned to the maintenance firm that day, they had found that Adelaide had struck and had only been thwarted by Raha being able to arrive late that day, and how the so-called 'ritual' that she interupted had almost killed Dan. He remembered the days after, when Dan had recovered and Ness had fallen ill. He remembered how they had received tech support from a 'V_A', and how that account had been used to run admin commands on thier system, releasing all the Springtraps from the Special Delivery project. He remembered the day Ness limped back in, not entirely herself, and the girls had grabbed her, causing whatever had had a stranglehold on her mind to leave, albeit temporarily. He remembered Ness moving in with him, wanting to not be alone. He remembered the night that 'Vanny' had taken over, and that he was only able to stop her from killing him by tearing off the rabbit mask. He remembered how scared she was, and how he had vowed that he'd do his best to make sure that that leech wouldn't hurt her again. He wasn't able to keep that promise. As he finally approached the window, he saw a car - Ness's car - drive away. The steering seemed shaky, as if an old man was trying to drive for the first time in years. Luis remembered the promise that Ness had made to him the day they went to the old HQ, and knew that she was incapable of keeping hers. °*°•°*°•°*°•°*°•°*°•°*°•🌹•°*°•°*°•°*°•°*°•°*°•°*°

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impishbiscuit · 2 years

Note

Why are you a failed gallimimus what happened?

It is a reference to this article by J. L. Sosa at filmschoolrejects.com, which is an interview of TyRuben Ellingson, who worked on the original Jurassic Park.

From the article:

"I’ve heard your hilarious story about the way you added a memorable flourish to the Gallimimus stampede scene in Jurassic Park. Would you mind retelling it?

Yeah, the un-athletic Gallimimus tumble … On the ILM side of Jurassic Park production there are many interesting behind-the-scenes tales. The one you’ve alluded to came about as a direct result of CGI being such an altogether new way of creating effects and all the unknowns that go with it.

The Gallimimus stampede was envisioned by Steven Speilburg from the beginning to be one of the film’s big set pieces. It was envisioned as being very dynamic and cinematic, while at the same time, very grounded in nature as if it was shot out in the wild with real animals.

At some point after shots had been blocked out and plates shot in Hawaii, conversation arose concerning the stampede sequence – specifically the moment where the frightened Gallimimuses lunge over a large fallen tree.

Though I can’t remember exactly how the plan was hatched, the idea of shooting some Gallimimus reference footage came up. Why not get a group of Jurassic Park personnel to run and leap over a scale version of the fallen tree, and in so doing, provide valuable insight into how groups of individuals might jockey for position in a frantic attempt to make it over that log and away from the snapping jaws of death breathing down their necks?

To pull such a test shoot together, as the show’s effects art director, I worked with the model shop in getting large plastic pipes up on supports and in a configuration that matched the plate photography.

These big constructions were then set up in one of the parking lots, weighted down with sandbags to keep them in place. Then, on a sunny afternoon, a small camera crew set up the shot to match the lens and reference.

When the scheduled time arrived, approximately 14 animators and I all lined up on one side of the pipe, stretched, warmed up and endeavored to get into our most informed Gallimimus head space. These pipes on their stands where actually quite high off the ground, perhaps 3 1/2 feet. Getting over them was going to mean a quick approach and putting a good amount of spring into the jump. It would take real effort, but didn’t seem altogether that hard.

Now, the thing of it is, as excited as I was to play dinosaur – in point of fact – I was a dude who never played sports as a kid, no basketball in high school, and I wasn’t a skateboarder, skier or bicycle rider. I spent my time drawing, tipping beers and watching movies. But then again, this was Jurassic Park, and it was all so new, exciting and ground-breaking. I was intent on giving it my very best. I would not be stopped.

Roll camera, take one: Not bad. We all hit our marks, cutting and jockeying for position as we approached the plastic log. But, Mother of God, it was a steep jump! To counter this realization, I went deeper into the zone.

Roll camera, take two: I’m in the zone, working my approach with the jerky movement of a scared Galli. Then I cut towards the center of the group, only to lose speed behind so many other frightened comrades. I’m at the rear of the pack, I can feel the snarling Tyrannosaurus gaining on me. The path to the log ahead of me clears and I jump!

Not good. I do not reach maximum height.

My foot catches and I find myself pile-driving towards the asphalt parking lot below, my feet still hung up on the plastic log. I swing up my arms, reach out to soften my landing, protect my head with only split-seconds to spare. Crack! Snap … and tumble.

(You can see me actually taking the header at 34:30 of this video. I have the black baseball hat on.)

What’s this? Had I broken something? No, I had shattered something. The elbow of my drawing arm! The Tyrannosaurus would surely have eaten me. I was a failed Gallimimus."

Highly recommend reading the entire thing!

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angryschnauzer · 3 years

Text

Blackwater Lake - Chapter 1

Summary: There’s a little town high in the mountains where everyone has a secret, and every family has something that makes them unique. In Blackwater Lake those that are outcast by nature come together.

Characters: Werewolf!Captain Syverson, Werewolf!Female Reader, Vampire!Walter Marshall.

Warnings (for this chapter, all small mentions but warning just in case): Breastfeeding, Accidental Cutting Injury/Blood loss, blood transfusions. This chapter contains no sex scenes or scenes of a sexual nature.

A continuation of previous Werewolf!Sy stories Moonlight on the Sand and Castle Under The Stars. This will be a series of stand alone stories/2 parters, which will revolve around the residents of the town, with some recurring characters.

I do not run a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications. You’ll then get an alert every time i post something new.

Blackwater Lake - Chapter 1

The late spring day brought pleasant scents and mouth watering flavours, Blackwater Lake’s town May day parade in full flow as you held two month old Luna in her carrier to your chest, turning to smile at your husband Sy as he balanced Mikey on his shoulders so your son could watch the floats whilst they slowly cruised past. You knew he would be most excited about the Fire Department bringing their trucks past. At the first whoop of the siren Mikey squealed with joy, the ice cream cone in his hand tipping slightly and setting a blob of blue bubblegum flavour gelato into Sy’s cheek;

“Hey, no wriggles! Its raining ice cream down here”

Pausing the consumption of your own cone you handed it to Sy as you reached into your bag and found a baby wipe, moving to wipe his cheek before stretching to wipe your son’s face. Finding a trash can to toss the wipe into, you smiled as you watched your two boys as they waved to the Fire Trucks, the crew making sure to honk their horns when they saw Sy.

Everyone in town loved Sy. You’d moved there together when you’d found out you were pregnant with Mikey, your army days behind you and wanting to seek somewhere quiet where you could live in the woods to allow for full moon runs whilst being close enough to civilisation to raise a family. The aging receptionist at the realtor had pulled you aside the second you’d arrived in their office when you’d visited the town, recognising one of her own as her nostrils had flared and she’d explained that there were ‘all sorts’ in the town. That was your first meeting with Edith, and you’d gone on to move in just up the mountain from her. Once Sy had finished in the Army and baby number two was on the way, he’d started working alongside retired detective Walter at his construction company where they specialised in commercial buildings. They were always on call for when businesses had emergencies, so had come to the aid of half the town after storms and accidents.

As the parade dragged on Luna woke, grumbling for a change and a feed. The two boys were transfixed with the parade and you’d lost your ice cream cone to Sy who was now mindlessly munching away on it. Tugging on his sleeve you caught his attention;

“Luna’s woken up, i’m gonna take her into Sue’s Coffee Shop to change her and give her a feed”

“Sure thing Darlin, we’ll come find you in a bit”

The coffee shop was quiet, its doors opened onto the sidewalk and as the radio played soft rock music, just one or two tables taken outside but the inside empty. Sue - the owner - smiled at you as you walked in;

“Hey Sue!”

“Hey there! What can I get'cha?”

“Can i get a decaf iced latte? I just need to change Luna if that’s ok?”

“Of course, no need to ask, the restroom is empty”

A couple of minutes later your little girl had a clean butt but was still grizzling, now hungry for your milk. Sue had set your drink onto a table in the corner, a soft window seat she knew you liked to sit at to feed. Settling in you pulled your cami top down and unhooked the strap of your nursing bra, helping Luna to latch on as she cried before a blissful quiet descended over you as she happily suckled on your breast. In the quiet of the coffee shop you reached for your drink and sipped on it, smiling down at your beautiful daughter as she gazed up at you;

“Hey there my little Luna, better now? Is that the good stuff? Yeah? Well that’s what your Daddy says it is…” you said with a whisper and a smirk.

“Hey”

The sudden greeting made you jump, looking up to see Walter standing near your table;

“Oh, Hi Walter”

“Sorry…” he glanced away, averting his eyes from where you were feeding; “I just asked if you wanted anything?”

“Oh no, i’m fine, i’ve got a coffee… but you’re welcome to join me if you like? Sy and Mikey will be along once the Parade’s over”

Nodding once the quiet man went to order before returning with what looked like a quad espresso but faltering when it came to taking a seat;

“Where did you want me to sit?”

“Oh anywhere you like” you shifted Luna as she had finished on one breast, hooking that side up before shifting and moving her to the other breast. You’d mastered the art of switching breasts without revealing anything, the baby's head blocking any view of a nipple, and you were a vehement supporter of breast feeding - in fact any feeding - and had been known to get into loud shouting matches with anyone that told you to cover up something that was completely natural.

“I mean, i don’t want Sy to think i’m here oggling his wife’s tits”

Laughing, you kicked out a soft chair with your foot;

“This is fairly low, take this one and here…” you moved the upright menu on the table in front of Luna’s head, knowing that she would now be shielded from view and with your breast, and saving Walter’s embarrassment.

Just as Walter sat down Sue brough over his sandwich, the scent of it hitting your nostrils and making your stomach audibly growl;

“Oh wow, what is that?”

“A steak wrap with chimichurri sauce” he lifted one half and offered it to you, but you shook your head.

“Thanks, but that’s just a little too rare for me… looks like a good veterinarian could bring it back to life”

Walter laughed as you called out to Sue, ordering one of the same.

“You want yours still mooing too?”

“Medium, please” you laughed as she nodded and walked away.

As she cooked your meal you turned back to Walter. You’d had a few conversations with him over the 11 months he and Sy had worked together, but knew very little about him apart from his reputation of being quiet and surly, generally sleep deprived and a little pale most of the time. He’d been medically retired from the Police Department after an accident where he’d lost a lot of blood and had never fully recovered.

As Luna happily fed and Walter devoured his sandwich you sipped on your drink, watching with curiosity as the man ate in silence, savouring each bloody bite. When he finally crumpled the napkin onto the plate and sat back he caught you watching him;

“What? Do i have something on my face?”

“No” you laughed softly; “Just watching how quickly you devoured that sandwich. Rachel not feeding you at home?”

Walter’s face dropped;

“She left”

“Oh fuck. I’m sorry Walter, i wouldn’t have said anything if i’d known”

“S’ok. She got fed up with the way i lived my life, but i can’t change who i am”

“True”

Just then Sy and Mikey came running into the coffee shop;

“Hi Darlin! Hi Sue! Hi Walt… be right back, Jnr has a bathroom emergency!”

The two Syverson boys disappeared into the restroom, and you could clearly hear Sy’s voice;

“Point! POINT IT AT THE TOILET! That’s it, stand on your tippy toes… there we go! Got here in time!”

You suppressed a laugh, Walter raising his eyebrows;

“Potty training?”

“Uh-huh… it's been a challenging few weeks to say the least, but Mikey wanted to give it a go”

The sound of the dryer could be heard as Sy and Mikey reappeared, Sy giving you double thumbs up from behind his son who ran to you;

“A perfect aim Darlin, no leaks. Think this deserves a cookie!”

As Mikey squealed with joy you groaned;

“Sy… not more sugar! He’ll be up all night. Mikey, honey, how about some fries?”

“And Eggies?” Mikey asked

“Sure thing honey, get Daddy to ask Sue”

As the afternoon wore on and the boys chatted, you listened as Sy and Walter discussed work stuff, Luna sleeping peacefully in your arms as you ate with Mikey. Finally glancing at your watch you motioned to Sy the time;

“Hun, i’ve gotta go collect our meat order from Walkers Meats”

“Oh yeah, sure. Here…” He opened his wallet and peeled off a bunch of $20’s as he turned to Walter; “She makes the best Steak Tartare… it's unbelievable”

“You make that?” Walter asked

Angling Luna into her carrier sling you adjusted the straps and nodded;

“Sure do! Hey, did you want to join us for dinner?”

“Yeah, join us!” Sy parroted; “And before you say anything, you wouldn’t be intruding”

With a weak smile Walter nodded;

“Sure, that’ll be nice. I gotta go to the lumber yard before though… pick out the stuff for next week's job”

You noticed that Mikey had finished his meal and was looking sleepy, holding your hand out to him he slid off the chair and stood next to you;

“How about I take the kids home, Sy you catch a ride with Walter?”

With everyone happy with the arrangements you made your way along main street to where Sy had parked his enormous truck, helping Mikey into his seat before unlatching Luna and settling her into her carrier. They were both fast asleep by the time you got to the drivers seat.

You managed to park directly outside the door to Walkers Meats, and Freya the weekend girl helpfully brought everything out to you when you called inside that the kids were asleep in the car and you didn’t want to leave them.

Dinner had been fun. The two kids were peacefully sleeping as the three adults chatted after the meal, before you finally stood to load the dishwasher and start hand washing the items that couldn’t go in there. Just as you were about to start you heard a cry from the kids, Sy standing;

“It’s Mikey, i’ll go”

As you started to handwash the various knives and delicate glasses, Walter stood at your side to dry items, the two of you talking casually before you let out a cry and pulled your hand from the soapy bowl of water. The dark crimson of your blood flowed from your finger, the knife you’d forgotten you’d put in the sink the cause;

“Fuck… hand me a towel…” you asked Walter, but were surprised when he sucked in a sharp intake of breath and turned, hunching over. Clutching your hand to your chest, you were surprised by his reaction, before he suddenly turned and you let out a shriek.

Sy appeared at the doorway in a panic before rushing to you, wrapping a napkin around your hand before he finally turned to look at Walter;

“What the fuck…”

Walter was pale, paler than usual, but that wasn’t what shocked the pair of you. No, it was the fact his eyes were pure white except for dark pools for his pupils, and as he opened his mouth to speak you saw his fangs;

“It’s… it’s the blood…” he gasped out; “It drives me…”

Sy wrapped his arm around your shoulders, but looked at his friend as he slumped onto the floor, shaking and sobbing;

“Think we need a chat Walt”

The three of you sat around the kitchen table, a hefty glass of scotch in front of each of you as Walter spoke;

“So umm yeah… this is why i left the Department. Went into a supposedly abandoned building, but it wasn’t empty. Two what we thought were junkies in there, looked like they were frail and would snap in a keen wind, but they had this strength and speed… They overpowered me, latched onto my neck. Drained my blood, and when the last drop was about to pass their lips one of my officers finally found me and shot them. They bled into me. The EMT’s took me to New Mercy and gave me a massive blood transfusion, and treated me for severe anemia… well guess what, the fangs and fucked up eyes were a surprise a few weeks after i was discharged”

You sat wide eyed and mouth agape, not touching your drink;

“I have so many questions...”

“Okay”

“Garlic. Crosses. Being invited in. Sunlight…”

Walter chuckled;

“Most a load of complete bollocks. Garlic? Well you put some in your steak tartare didn’t you? In fact it helps with the anemia. Crosses? No issue. Being invited in, again that’s just rubbish. Sunlight however… why do you think i’m so pale, huh? Have to wear factor 50 all the damn time otherwise i end up looking like a Maine Lobster at a cookout”

Both you and Sy were transfixed, Walter chatting away but his eyes hadn’t returned to normal and his fangs occasionally caught on his lip as he spoke.

“What ‘bout blood then?” Sy asked

Walter cleared his throat;

“Well, i’ve been making do with cows blood since Rachel left”

“You used to suck her blood?” you asked in a high pitched voice

Again Walter cleared his throat, this time just the faintest hint of a blush crept over his cheeks above his beard;

“Err yeah, about once a month… but she had enough in the end and left”

“I got another question” Sy interjected; “Why are your fangs still out?”

Although he answered Sy, Walter looked directly at you;

“Because she’s bleeding”

You looked down at your hand, puzzled as the wound had now sealed, before it hit you;

“Oh… I should go and sort that out”

Sy caught up quickly, glancing at the back of your dress;

“You’re fine Darlin, Walt caught it in time”

When you returned to the kitchen the two men had knocked back their drinks, Sy pouring another hefty glass for the pair of them. Pouring your drink into Sy’s you smiled at him;

“Luna won’t appreciate it”

Making yourself a herb tea you sat down next to Sy, leaning on his shoulder as you sipped your tea. Walter cleared this throat;

“You two have taken this a lot better than i envisioned anyone would… better than Rachel did…”

You looked up at Sy and smiled, his own grin crossing over his face before he nodded and you both turned to Walter as Sy spoke;

“Oh… we have a bit of understanding of this kinda thing”

With the full moon starting tomorrow night you knew that you could both force your eyes to turn orange, the bright ring of fire in your irises flaming like a pyre, shocking Walter so much he slipped back on his chair and fell to the floor. Greeted by both of you giggling, he pulled himself back up using the table as he righted his chair, knocking back the rest of his glass;

“What… the… FUCK?”

#blackwater lake #henry cavill #captain syverson #walter marshall #werewolf!sy #Vampire!Walter

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the-modernmary · 3 years

Text

you’ll always know me || aaron hotchner x reader

Summary: "I would have stayed... If you asked me to.

After your high school graduation, you left without saying goodbye to Aaron Hotchner, your best friend, and nobody had heard from you since. Years later, you're back in DC, and catching up with Aaron brings more than you could have possibly hoped for.

Warnings: mentions of weed

A/N: I really wanted some soft Hotch content in my life after all the angst in my best habit, and this is about as soft as I can get. Inspired by Taylor Swift's "dorothea". Honestly, I was listening to evermore, blacked out for about three hours, and this is what came from that. There is no other explanation for this. It's written differently than my usual style, but I hope y'all like it still!

read on ao3 || masterlist

~~~~~~~

“What’s got you in such a rush?”

Rossi eyes Aaron carefully as the latter circles around his office, double and triple-checking that he didn’t forget anything. The last thing he wants is to have to come back to the office and cut his day short.

Aaron shoves a few case files in his briefcase. “An old friend from high school is in town and I’m meeting up with her.”

Rossi perks up at the word ‘her’ and he leans against the door frame. Aaron notices this, too, because he shakes his head quickly. “It’s not like that. We both got sent to boarding school for being problem children and we became quick friends. I haven’t talked to her since graduation. She just packed up her stuff and left the very next day.”

“You sound bitter,” Rossi points out.

“Not at all,” he lies, trying to forget the hurt of running to your dorm for your weekly breakfast together, only to be met with an empty room and a singular polaroid. “I knew she hated it there and her goal was to travel and see as many places as she could. Honestly, I’m surprised she’s back stateside at all. Last I heard, she was doing some art apprenticeship in Italy, but that was years ago.”

“You sound like you have a long evening ahead of you, so I’ll get out of your hair. And have some fun tonight, Aaron. You deserve it,” Rossi adds on as an afterthought.

The corners of Aaron's mouth lift slightly. “I will. Try not to let the building burn down while I’m gone. Reid is back on his physics magic kick, and I think I heard something about a lighter.”

Rossi gives Aaron a two-finger, half-hearted salute in acknowledgment, which is all it takes for Aaron to shut his office door and head towards the elevator. Knowing that you’re just outside, he has to make a conscious effort to slow his pace from an excited jog to just an anxious speed walk. The elevator ride is slow, seemingly stopping at every single floor on the way down, which gives his mind ample time to wander and think back to graduation day.

“There you are!” Aaron shouts from across the football field as he runs up to you, shoving through bustling groups of families trying to take pictures. He has so many stoles and cords and leis around his neck that you can barely see the suit he’s wearing underneath his gown. It’s a stark contrast to you, with only a singular chord for academic achievement, although a 3.2 wasn’t much of an achievement in the eyes of most people at boarding school.

“Here I am!” you laugh, throwing your arms around him in a hug and breathing in the smell of his cologne.

“Where’re your parents? Didn’t they come?”

“Of course they didn’t. They’re not ones for celebrating something as trivial as high school graduation, not when it’s just expected of me.” You roll your eyes. “What about you? I thought you and Haley were going to do the whole ‘meet the family’ thing today?”

Aaron is oblivious to the bitterness in your voice, although that’s nothing new. “We are, but I just wanted to give these to you.” It’s then that you notice the bouquet of flowers in his hand, although it’s now being pressed into your arms. “As a congrats. And a thank you for being there for me this whole time. You’re my best friend.”

You try to ignore the ache in your chest at his words. “Thank you, Aaron. I… I didn’t get you anything, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he waves it off. “If you want to get me something, breakfast is your treat tomorrow.”

“Okay, deal,” you agree, the smile coming back to your face. Selfishly, you don’t want him to go back to Haley or his family just yet. You want him to stay there with you so you don’t feel so lonely in the crowd of happy graduates. “God, I can’t believe you’re staying in D.C. for college. We always talked about getting out, seeing the world and never coming back.”

Aaron shrugs, and you watch as he brushes away a piece of his hair that falls into his face. “I’m hoping that going to GW for undergrad will make it easier to get into law school there.”

“And Haley Brooks is still here for another year,” you point out, half accusatory.

“Yeah, that, too.” Aaron chuckles uncomfortably before quickly switching the conversation. “What about you? Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

“There’s an art school in Glasgow I’m thinking of going to. But, you know… George Washington also has an art program. It’s pretty nice, too. I’m still deciding.” You trail off, looking straight into Aaron’s eyes, giving him every chance in the world to make the decision for you.

Aaron hesitates, fighting an internal battle. “Go to Glasgow!” he says, fake enthusiasm in his voice, but your disappointment blocks out anything but his actual words. “Then I’ll have an excuse to visit Scotland.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was leaning towards, too,” you lie. “Aaron, I—”

You’re cut off by a voice calling his name. You both turn around to see Haley Brooks waving him over, her other hand holding 7-year-old Sean’s hand. She looks like spring personified, her blonde hair in bouncy curls and her pink sundress swishing around her long, slender legs. Her smile is so big that it could have parted storm clouds, and you want nothing more than to hate her with every single fiber of your being.

But then you see Aaron, returning her megawatt smile with his own, one you rarely ever saw, and how can you hate somebody who makes him so happy?

“I have to go, I’m sorry,” he says, although there’s not even a hint of regret in his voice. “But I’ll see you for one last Sunday breakfast tomorrow?”

“I’ll see you then,” you lied.

How Aaron could have missed the signs of your unhappiness, he’ll never know. At that time, all he knew was that you left without ever saying goodbye, leaving behind only a polaroid of the two of you from your weekend trip to Virginia Beach, both of you drunk and laughing with your arms wrapped around each other. He still has it, buried in his nightstand somewhere, but he hasn’t had the courage to look at it for a few years now.

As Aaron steps out of the FBI building, he recognizes you instantly, even though it’s only the back of your head, and it causes his breath to catch in his throat. He calls your name and watches as you turn around, your hair whipping around you, and the fact that you still have that same mischievous glint in your eyes is enough to make him feel like he’s sixteen again and nervously skipping class with you holding his hand and pulling him towards the school gates.

“Aaron!” You jog up to him and throw your arms around him in a hug, which he happily reciprocates. You press a quick kiss to his cheek before pulling away, and Aaron’s entire face burns.

You keep your hands on his biceps, holding him at arm’s length, as you study him. He looks almost exactly the same as he did all those years ago, with soft hair and the slightest bit of stubble, but he looks less carefree. He seems more mature, like life had aged him 100 years. Still, as cute as high school Aaron was, it had nothing on how good he looks now. “Look at you, Mr. FBI, all suit and corporate-looking! I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ve changed quite a bit,” he admits, and the sight of his dimples makes you want to melt right there into the sidewalk. “It’s really good to see you again. I’ve missed you.”

“Oh, I’m sure you barely thought about me,” you joke, but hurt flashes through your eyes.

Aaron wants to argue, to tell you that he thinks about you all the time, but decides against it. He doesn’t want to spend the precious few hours he has with you bringing up old issues. “Are you hungry? Because there’s this diner a few blocks down with giant milkshakes.”

“Why are we still standing here, then? All you had to say was milkshakes, they’re my favorite.”

“I know. I remember,” he says, and that all-too-familiar pang in your heart comes back like it had never left. “Come on, we can walk and cut through a park.”

The two of you start your walk in comfortable silence, listening to the bustling city around you. Every once in a while, your hands would bump into his, and you were doing everything you could to ignore it.

“So did you ever go to that art school?” he asks suddenly, looking over at you.

You nod, a soft smile forming on your face. “I did. You were right, I loved Scotland.”

“Where did you go after that? Nobody heard from you.”

Your eyes sparkle as memories of your life the past few years flash through your mind. “Everywhere. Literally. I took a bunch of odd jobs and spent my time traveling,” you admitted. “I taught English in Vietnam for a year, worked on a cruise ship that went around South America, was an au pair for a French ambassador, went on research expeditions… Even dated a pilot for all of six months. Anything I could do that would let me see the world.” You laugh to yourself, shaking your head fondly. “I really put that private boarding school tuition to good use, huh? My parents were pissed.”

“It sounds like you were living the life you dreamed of,” Aaron says softly, looking down at you.

“It was,” you agree, your voice a little sad.

“So then why are you back here in DC?”

You shrug, your hands clasped behind your back, and you step down on a particularly crunchy leaf. “I’m just passing through. I’ve been going around the US and looking for a place to settle down. Finally. Figured I might as well put that art degree to good use. Maybe I’ll open a gallery or something.”

Aaron nods slowly as the chill of autumn runs through his bones. It’s nice, though, in a weird way. He’s always preferred the fall over spring. “Where have you looked so far?”

“Lots of places. San Francisco, Portland, Seattle, Atlanta, San Antonio, Miami… I’m heading up to New York next. Nothing’s felt right so far. But enough about me, how are you? I heard you married Haley Brooks.”

That same bitterness you felt in high school when you talked about Haley comes back with a vengeance. It’s unfair, and you know that. How was Aaron supposed to know that you were practically in love with him in high school if you never told him? Even now, you’re sure that he hasn’t put together the pieces.

You watch as his gaze falls slightly. “I did. She died a few years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, and you reach out to give his hand a small squeeze.

“We got divorced a little while before it happened,” he explains, unsure why it’s so important to him that you know that. “I blamed myself for it for a long time. But I’ve, uh… I’ve made peace with it now.”

You give him a comforting smile, fully aware of the fact that you’re still holding his hand. “Aaron Hotchner, making peace with something in his life? I never thought I’d see the day.”

Aaron chuckles and bumps his shoulder to yours. “I’ve been known to do it a few times. But only a few. Haley and I have a son, though. His name is Jack. He’s 8 now.”

You shake your head in disbelief, and your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. “And you’re a father? Wow, you really have changed.”

“Is that a bad thing?” he asks, and you shake your head wordlessly.

“I like every version of Aaron Hotchner,” you promise. “Besides, change is a good thing. Especially since this city hasn’t changed a bit.”

Aaron looks around, eyebrows furrowed, like he’s seeing DC for the very first time. “It’s actually changed quite a bit. But it’s subtle. Only people who have been here as long as I have would even notice it, probably.”

The words cut through you both as a painful reminder of your abrupt departure from DC, and the silence settles over the two of you like a thick fog. This conversation was going to have to happen no matter what, you knew that going into this meeting with Aaron, but you didn’t expect it to happen so soon.

“I would have stayed,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “If you asked me to.”

Aaron shakes his head as his Adam’s apple bobs. “I thought about it. But I couldn’t do that to you. I knew you wanted to see the world, and you said it yourself. This city had nothing left to offer you.”

You pause, rubbing your thumb over your fingertips with your freehand. “It had you,” you reply, and Aaron feels like he was just stabbed in the heart. “That would have been enough.” Seeing Aaron’s dejected face, you quickly keep talking. “But I get it, don’t worry. You were head over heels for Haley Brooks. Everybody knew you two were meant to be together.””

“What does that have to do with you leaving?” he asks, more accusatory than he intended.

“Everything.”

Aaron breathes out your name, unsure of what to say until he settles on: “I’m sorry.”

You wave him off, forcing a laugh. “Don’t be. I was 17 years old with a crush. We do stupid things, like want to stay at home for a boy. I’m glad I left. Besides, Haley Brooks was clearly the love of your life, and far be it from me to try and break up the golden couple.”

The two of you stop in front of the diner and you drop Aaron’s hand, much to his disappointment, although you’re still close enough to him to see your reflection in his brown eyes. “I didn’t know you felt like that about me,” he says.

“Which is surprising, because everybody else definitely knew. But you’ve always been a little clueless when it comes to stuff like that,” you tease, flashing him a toothy smile. “But it’s in the past. So come on, I want to hear about this FBI stuff and drink a milkshake so big it makes my stomach hurt.”

Twenty minutes later, you and Aaron find yourselves smushed together in a corner booth covered in cheap vinyl, splitting a chocolate milkshake and laughing as you stroll down memory lane.

“You know, I ran into Stephen yesterday! A little coffee shop not too far from here,” you tell Aaron.

Aaron almost drops the fry he was about to eat. “Do you mean Stoner Stephen? What is he doing back here?”

You take a sip of the milkshake, and Aaron’s gaze is intense as you wrap your lips around the straw. When you pull back, he’s still staring at the soft pink your lipstick leaves behind. “Apparently, he’s lived here for years. Also, did you know he’s crazy smart? Like… graduated 4th in our class, went to Brown undergrad and Columbia graduate, smart.”

Aaron’s eyes go wide in disbelief. “And this is the same guy who, completely sober, tried putting his mattress in the pool so that he didn’t have to sleep in his own dorm?”

“The very same one. He’s like a lobbyist now or something for some activist group.”

“Wow, I did not expect that. Do you remember when he got so high that he thought his joint was going to catch the dorms on fire?” Aaron asks, the words barely discernible through his laughter. “So he warned campus police that the whole school was going to burn down.”

“Yes!” you giggle, your head thrown back in laughter. “They thought it was an arson threat and they had to evacuate the whole school. I was taking an English final during that.”

Aaron’s shoulder pressing against yours makes a shiver run down your spine. You idly wonder how much closer he can get to you if he really tried.

As if reading your mind, Aaron turns towards you a little more so that your knees are touching and you can feel his breath on the side of your neck. “We went to the beach that weekend,” he says quietly, unwilling to break eye contact with you. “Drank cheap beer. You got stung by a jellyfish. I had to carry you back to the car.”

No, no. You were not about to fall for Aaron Hotchner’s charm again that easily. Not again. It took you too long to get over him the first time. Still, you were leaning closer to Aaron, and Aaron was leaning in towards you, and your noses brushed as you tilt your head to the side ever so slightly and—

And his phone rings. Aaron’s eyes flickered to your lips one last time before pulling away, giving you an apologetic look.

“Hotchner,” he answers, and you pull your coat tighter around yourself as realization sinks into you. You feel like you’re 17 again, desperately waiting for Aaron to ask you to prom, only to hide in your dorm for days on end when he asked Haley Brooks.

When Aaron hangs up, he immediately reaches into his pocket to pull out his wallet, setting enough cash on the table to cover the tab and tip. “That was work. We have to fly out to Arizona. I’m sorry.”

You nod understandingly. “Gotta catch the bad guys. When do you leave?”

It’s silent for a few torturous moments before he finally answers. “An hour, at most. We brief at the office and then get on the plane.”

“Wow,” you breathe. “You weren’t kidding when you said that you live out of your suitcase. Can I walk back with you, at least?”

Aaron smiles, a small smile that makes you wonder how often he actually smiles now. It used to be a lot, but from what he’s told you, it seems like he’s had a rough go of it the last couple of years, and has a lot less to smile about. It makes you sad because when you were traveling the world, his smile was the one thing you missed the most.

“I’d really like that.”

The two of you make small talk on the way back, swapping stories about Jack and your various adventures around the globe. The autumn air is crisp with leaves falling all around you. At one point, there was a big gust of wind, and leaves and pine needles got blown onto the two of you, and you took your sweet time running your fingers through his hair, bushing it all off him.

When you get to the entrance of the FBI building, neither one of you says anything. You just stand there, both unwilling to say goodbye. You turn to face each other, just as close as you were in the diner booth.

“Oh, you have a…” Aaron delicately reaches his hand to your hair. His fingers in your hair make your stomach do flips, and you’re almost positive he can hear your racing heartbeat. His eyes stay trained on yours the entire time, never blinking. “Pine needle,” he whispers, holding the offending object between his fingers.

“Thanks,” you breathe, and you’re not sure if it’s the autumn chill or his hand reaching to cup your cheek that sends goosebumps throughout your body.

As if he were magnetic, you rise onto your toes, bringing yourself closer to him, and you press your lips against his. Aaron deepens the kiss and runs his thumb across your cheekbone. His other hand wraps itself around your waist. The kiss is slow and sensual and better than anything you could have dreamed of — and you dream of Aaron kissing you more often than you’d like to admit.

All too soon, the two of you pull away from each other, both wearing matching smiles.

“I should probably… get in there… before my team sends out a search party,” Aaron says reluctantly, pointing towards the entrance.

You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Go save lives. I’ll probably be around for a few more days before heading up to New York. If you’re back by then.”

Aaron purses his lips, deep in thought. “You’re definitely settling down somewhere? Done with seeing the world?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Have you… Do you think…” Aaron takes a grounding breath, trying to gather the words he was too afraid to ask back at graduation. “Have you ever considered settling down here? There’s a pretty big art community here.”

You shrug, ignoring excitement building in your chest. “I think my work is a little too experimental for the people of the capitol.”

“You’d be surprised,” he chuckles.

You bring your lower lip between your teeth, chewing nervously at it. “I don’t know… I left for a reason. I just don’t know what DC has to offer me anymore.”

Aaron spreads his arms out at his side, palms facing you in an uncharacteristic display of vulnerability. “There’s me,” he offers, and, when your eyes go wide, he adds, “And Stoner Stephen, if I’m not enough.”

A laugh bursts out of you uncontrollably, which seems to put both you and Aaron at ease. “That makes it a very tempting offer,” you tease.

“And I have a coworker who flips houses. He’ll be able to tell you where to get the best deal on an apartment,” Aaron presses as if you need any more convincing. As if your mind isn’t already made up.

“First, I need to know that there’s more than one good place to get milkshakes,” you point out, shoving your hands in your coat pockets. “You’ll have to show me around when you get back.”

Aaron’s lips quirk up in a hopeful smile. “It’s a date.”

He makes his way towards the entrance of the Hoover Building, but you call out his name, stopping him once more. “We’ll also need a new Sunday breakfast place. Since our old one is closed down.”

Now, his smile is one of pure joy, and his eyes are sparkling in a way you haven’t seen in years. “I know just the place. As long as you don’t up and leave without telling me again.”

“Never again,” you promise, and for once, the idea of staying doesn’t terrify you.

“Then we’ll get breakfast together as soon as I get back.”

You smile at him, already missing the feeling of his lips on yours. “I’ll see you then.”

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #criminal minds fanfiction #my writing

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awhiskeyriver · 3 years

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Six Sentence Sunday: The Tutor

A little sneak peek at Chapter One of The Tutor, told in Annie’s POV. As usual, it’s far more than six sentences, lmao. Enjoy!

+++

“I wish people took our sport half as seriously as they did football,” I said, earning an unamused chuckle from my friends.

“The misogyny is real,” Mags nodded. “It’s a man's world, and we are just simple ballerinas.”

“Not even the cool kind that get free shots for doing splits on top of the bar,” Rue mumbled. When Mag’s and my eyebrows furrowed she sighed deeply before pulling up Enobaria’s most recent Instagram story of her doing that very thing.

“That’s my New Year’s resolution,” Rue said, staring down at the phone wistfully.

“To get free shots?”

“To not sit at home on a Friday night doing face masks and watching Netflix.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being well-rested,” I argued, closing my laptop, because it would be too embarrassing if either of them realized I was doing homework. They made space for me on Mag's bed and I pulled a spare blanket up over my legs.

“Rest is for people over twenty-five,” Rue continued. “We are in college. We’re supposed to be making bad decisions, not being responsible.”

“Speaking of responsibilities, when do these lessons start?” Mags asked, cueing up the latest show we’d been binging. “Next semester?”

“Next week. Spring training starts in February, and his coach wants him back practicing for it. Not to mention rehearsals for the spring showcase start at the beginning of the semester, so the more classes we finish over break the better.”

“He’s staying here for break?”

“We both live in Wisconsin. Close by. So, we’ll be around. Honestly, I think that’s the real reason Madame Trinket offered my name up.”

“Maybe,” Rue said. “But, she’s not wrong--you are one of the best.”

“That’s because I don’t go out to bars on Friday nights.”

That was one of the challenges of having a double major. Especially when one was as intensive as performance arts was. Between the class hours, rehearsals, study blocks, and the part time job I worked at a local studio off campus, there was little room left for fun.

And the small bit of room I did have left was taken up by family affairs.

That wasn’t anything against being a dance major. I found the rigorous schedule and long hours to be extremely fun. Because I had been a dancer my whole life, I found it to be an outlet for creativity, and frustrations and anger. Excitement and happinesses.

“I don’t know,” Rue said, unconvinced as she scrolled through the rest of Enobaria’s stories. “It looks pretty fun.”

Yeah, it did.

I wished sometimes to be that adventurous person. The one who threw on makeup and let their hair down for a night out. Who wore heels to more than just the walks between classes.

Panem was one of the top party schools in the country. It would have been nice to take advantage of that and have some fun.

Even just once.

#six sentence sunday #sss #the tutor #the panem nightlocks series #odesta #finnick x annie #annie x finnick #odesta fanfic #fanfic #thg fanfic #fanfiction

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minachuuu · 3 years

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(G)-Idle Reaction to falling for a composer.

This one was maybe inspired by Maze. I thought of the concept one day when listening to the song, and it stuck with me. This one is pretty fluffy if I say so myself!

Miyeon

The first time she saw you sitting near the console in the studio she couldn’t take her eyes from you, but you were sitting there in silence, just taking notes and she had no idea who you were and why you were there. She went into the cabin to record her lines, not losing sight of you through the glass, but when you raised your eyes to meet hers and smiled, she fumbled and scrambled every single one of the words.

After another take and the red on her cheeks not easing, she went back to your side of the studio, and with every nerve on her body filled with courage, she wrote her phone number on a piece of paper and handed it to you. Later that day, a text made her phone shake and she was surprised when she read:

Such an angelic voice fits perfectly with such a pretty girl. I’ll write more songs if that means I get to see you again. Btw, my name is Y/n, glad to meet you.

The oldest squeaked in bliss as she embraced her phone for dear life, to the surprise of all her youngest members.

It didn’t take long until you started dating, and with such a beautiful muse by your side, inspiration flows like a river through you, composing beautiful creations only for you to listen to Miyeon bring them to life with her beautiful voice.

Minnie

You were sitting in the studio, playing around with the synths and some lyrics. You wouldn’t say you have a perfect voice, but you could carry a melody enough to record your own demos. But you were so into your own thoughts that you failed to realize the only other presence in the room.

“I think that would sound better if you went a bit higher…”

Her voice made you spring in surprise, as Minnie grabbed the chair besides you, and pulled in closer. She sang the melody you were working on and that was the moment you knew you were hooked. And by the way she looked at you when you got lost in your creations, one could safely say it was mutual. You spend your days locked in the studio, looking like children in a candy store, playing with chords, melodies and everything in your disposal.

Yes, you were both very aware of your feelings, but Minnie took the first step when she arrived one day at the studio, a little folder paper with a confession written on it… in five different languages.

Of course you nervously said yes, and from that day on your life, your life is a thousand times more fun and full of light, courtesy of one of the most beautiful, talented and bright girls in the world.

Soojin

One night, it was very late and you found yourself roaming the empty, dark dance studio with your guitar, searching for something to help you with your mind block. Your prayers would be answered in the form of a beautiful girl opening the door.

You both shared the same problem, and with a glance you promised not to bother the other as you coexisted in the same room.

But when your eyes caught a glimpse of Soojin freestyling, your fingers instinctively struck the chords and rhythm in harmony with her body. She caught on pretty fast to whatever you were doing, letting passion flow like a language in between your two different but very complementary art forms. Let’s say you ended up exchanging a little more than phone numbers that night.

And now you two are now the best team to ever grace the company. Sometimes she runs to you, and shows you a new dance movement and you create a beautiful melody to go with it. A passionate relationship to say the least, her bandmates have a say that when your hands aren't on an instrument, they're on Soojin.

But can they really complain when there's some really iconic stages born from your freestyling sessions? At least that's what you both say you're working on when you lock the door of the studio behind you.

Soyeon

This one itself could be worthy of an entire enemy-to-lovers fic.

We know Soyeon is fond of her craft, so when Cube assigned (G)-Idle a composer she was furious. She tried missing some meetings, tried to get to deadlines earlier, in general, she evaded you as long as she could, but the one time she couldn’t find a way around meeting you, she hated herself a little for discovering late you were really kind and talented, and mostly… incredibly cute.

Now more than evading you on spite, she tried her best to not fall for you. And she was doing great, keeping her distance and the relationship between you two as professional as possible until one day, you knocked the door to her studio.

She couldn't resist and invited you in. And nobody could predict what followed. You were taking out hit, after hit, after hit, albums full of songs worth title tracks.

To be honest, no one would have known you two eventually got together until you decided to tell her members, you like the privacy of your haven. And even if people think it's a little odd for a relationship, more than cuddles and kisses, your love language consists of sharing the passion you both have for music.

Yuqi

There's not a single soul in Cube's building that Yuqi hasn't stricken up a conversation with, and you were no exception when you first arrived as the new composer. There was no stopping her as she found your craft fascinating, having dipped her own fingers in the composing pool a few times, everyday that her schedules allowed her she was there asking you a thousand different things.

And of course you didn't mind. It was really fun and sweet to have someone that interested in you and in what you do. Especially someone as cute as Yuqi.

Time was the only factor needed for you two to be able to build a very close relationship. One day you were both putting the final touches on a new track, and after giving a last listen to the whole arrangement you had a definite hit in your hands, Yuqi's excitement couldn't be contained and she crashed her lips against yours. Was it shocking? Yes. But surprising? Not really, you could cut the tension in between you both with a plastic knife.

You could say that entering a relationship full of energy and love, where everyday it's a new opportunity to discover new things and learn something it's your favorite perk of your new job.

Shuhua

Shuhua had finished her schedules early, she was feeling a little bit down and tired, so she decided to join Soyeon and Soojin to the recording studio, but she wasn't prepared for what awaited her beyond that door.

When she locked her eyes on your concentrated face, tweaking the arrangement, your fingers gracefully dancing across the piano, a sudden chill traveled her spine, and her brain started working at a thousand miles per hour. Her bandmates had never seen her like this, but she just wanted to have your attention, and it sure worked.

You too weren't feeling great that day in particular, but Shuhua's energy managed to uplift your spirits. It was a rush through both of your veins, an atmosphere you became addicted to because well… It made you both extremely happy. From that day on, there was never a single boring day in your life as it is said that after meeting Shuhua, you were able to write the first happy song of your career.

They say the best relationships have a good friendship as a base, and you and Shuhua are nothing but best friends with some extra physical perks here and there. Days full of pranks, laughter, dancing and singing all to the rhythm of happy songs.

#girl group scenarios #girl group imagines #girl group reactions #gidle scenarios #gidle imagines #gidle reactions #gidle miyeon #gidle minnie #gidle soojin #gidle soyeon #gidle yuqi #gidle shuhua

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mjsakurea · 3 years

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If Words Could Heal Scars (Fic)

"I'm sorry and thank you"

Wei Wuxian allows those words to convey every unsaid emotion, every word he cannot say. He has learned these phrases are the most important words one can say in one's life. He would utter them like a prayer for the rest of his life and it would still not be enough to make up for the pain Lan Zhan has endured on his behalf, but he can start with saying them thirty-three times.

Dedicated to @zelkam

Based on their absolutely amazing and heartbreaking art that just left me so inspired to write a fic. It broke me out of year’s worth of writer’s block so thank you so much for making it! I hope this fic can capture the same feelings the art induced.

Read on AO3 or continue reading below

Wei Wuxian knelt in front of his makeshift lotus pond. He had just finished hauling buckets of water to fill it. It would be time to plant the seeds soon. The weather was growing steadily colder by the day which meant he had to work tirelessly to get them planted before it was too late in the season. As he looked at his pond—less a pond and more a mud puddle—he sighed. It would be a miracle if any of the seeds sprouted, but, attempting the impossible was what his—well, his former clan was known for. If he thought too long about his brief visit with his adopted siblings, he knew he would start to get homesick for Lotus Pier. He knew he would most likely never return there and see the endless lakes filled with lotus blossoms ever again. Best to get to work and not dwell on the fact, Wei Wuxian thought.

“Wen Ning,” he shouted, “hand me that trowel.”

Wen Ning’s head perked up from where he was helping bag fresh turnips. “Yes, Young Master Wei!” He snatched the hand trowel and jogged over to the lotus pond. As he was about to hand it over to Wei Wuxian, his foot caught on an exposed root and he fumbled with the trowel. It slipped from his hands as he attempted to regain his footing. It missed Wei Wuxian and landed in the mud pit with a spalt, slashing some mud up on Wei Wuxian’s face and robes.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Wei Wuxian heard Wen Ning repeatedly mumbling as he flicked the mud off his face. He reached into the shallow pool and delicately lifted the drenched trowel between his thumb and middle finger.

“Wen Ning,” Wei Ying said to interrupt the still muttering man, “it’s alright, no need to be sorry.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Wen Ning said looking down at his feet.

“Now what are you sorry about? Stop saying sorry so much, there’s really no need.”

“Sister says, ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘thank you’ are the two most important phrases you can say,” Wen Ning admitted.

Wei Wuxian smiled softly. “Well, your sister is very wise, but don’t tell her I said that,” he said.

“Tell me you said what?” Wen Qing said, appearing out of nowhere to catch Wei Wuxian at the worst possible moment as she does best.

Wen Ning greeted his sister excitedly while Wei Ying tried to escape admitting he ever paid Wen Qing a compliment, trowel incident and apologies forgotten.

He takes it back now, Wen Qing was not wise, she was an idiot, an absolute fool. Wei Wuxian writhed on the stone slab which served as his bed in Demon Subdue Palace. He fought desperately against the toxin flowing into his body through Wen Qing’s needle, keeping his body stiff and limbs immovable. Wei Ying screamed at Wen Qing and Wen Ning as the siblings revealed their plan to him. They were going to turn themselves in. They would be executed without a doubt. They knew this, they must have, so why, why would they want to face certain death and leave him all alone.

His screams slowly turned into sobs. Wei Wuxian begged them not to go. He should be the one to go instead. He continued pleading as Wen Qing knelt next to him and flicked a sleeping spell on his forehead. His eyelids suddenly felt heavy. He forced them to stay open with fading strength.

“No, Wen Qing,” he said weakly.

“I didn’t tell you many times, but today, something needs to be said,” Wen Qing began. Wei Ying shook his head, pleading with his eyes. “Or from now on, I won’t have a chance.”

“No,” he said, feeling his eyelids droop closed against his will. He could no longer fight the spell pulling him to sleep. Her final words drifted to him as though from afar.

“I’m sorry, and thank you.”

Wei Wuxian leaned up against a tree to catch his breath after running into the forest with Jin Ling. His eyes flickered across the surrounding terrain. Despite Jin Ling telling him Fairy would not trouble him, he still had his doubts. After all, dogs could not be trusted, even this so-called wonder dog. He had a feeling Jiang Cheng bought the dog for Jin Ling just to spite Wei Wuxian. After his run-in with Jiang Cheng earlier, it was clear his hatred had not abated in these 16 years Wei Ying had been dead. Jin Ling confirmed that as he told Wei Wuxian of the numerous times his uncle had caught those under suspicion of being the reincarnated Yiling Patriarch. Luckily, Jin Ling’s skepticism saved him from Jiang Cheng’s wrath for now.

“I tell you, you have saved me indeed, but I won’t thank you,” Jin Ling shouts at him. Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes. It was his fault this kid grew up without learning any manners, he supposed. If he must, he would try and teach him some himself.

“Young man, in a person’s life, he must learn to say two phrases,” Wei Ying began, stepping in front of his nephew.

“Which two?”

“Thank you and sorry.”

Jin Ling scoffed at him. “I just don’t want to, what can you do with that?”

“You will say it while crying someday.” Trust me, I know from experience, left unsaid. Wei Wuxian paused, taking a deep breath. “Jin Ling, I’m sorry.”

Wei Wuxian struggled with his words. His heart was full with all he wanted to say to Lan Zhan. After his enlightening conversation with Zewu Jun, he regarded Lan Wangji with a different light. He had resented Lan Zhan’s constant criticism back then, back in his first life. But now, he knew Lan Zhan’s actions were out of love. Even now, every little thing—bringing him Emperor’s Smile, playing this soft, familiar melody on the guqin—was done with love. Lan Zhan loved him. Wei Wuxian chuckled at the revelation, gazing absentmindedly out at the glittering snow falling on Cloud Recesses. That realization should have shocked him, he thought, but if anything, it calmed his racing mind. He realized with perfect clarity, as well, that he loved Lan Zhan. Wei Ying did not know what words could possibly begin to convey all his love, his adoration, his regret, and his sorrow. However, he took a swig of Emperor’s Smile and made an attempt.

“Lan Zhan, I’m sorry, and thank you,” he whispered from where he leaned on the doorframe of the Jingshi.

Lan Zhan glanced up at him briefly with the barest hint of a smile before returning his eyes to his instrument. No, that would not do, Wei Wuxian thought. He took a step inside the room and turned to pull the doors to the Jingshi shut, barring out the cold winter air. Swiveling back to face Lan Wangji, he took a few steps forward while reaching behind to tug off his belt. Wei Wuxian knelt next to the low table, set down his jug of Emperor’s Smile, and shrugged his outer robe off his shoulders. Lan Zhan regarded him quizzically.

Wei Ying stepped over to the other side of the table. He knelt once again and gripped Lan Zhan’s shoulders, guiding him to stand. He slid his hands down the other man’s arms before clutching at his wrist with one hand. Gently, he pulled Lan Wangji towards the bed. Wei Wuxian sat down whilst pulling Lan Zhan down to sit in front of him. Reaching up to the back of his neck, Wei Ying delicately swept Lan Zhan’s silky hair to the side so that it draped in front of his chest. He smoothed his hands over Lan Wangji’s broad shoulders before softly gripping the top of his robes.

“Wei Ying?” Lan Zhan questioned.

“Is this okay?”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan said with a slight nod, still seeming confused, but willing to go along with it.

Wei Wuxian nodded back even though he knew Lan Zhan was facing the wrong way to see him. Gripping the top of his robes, Wei Ying gently pulled them down, exposing Lan Zhan’s back. Wei Wuxian gasped as the scarred skin was exposed. He had seen Lan Zhan’s back from a distance in the Cold Springs but seeing it up close—even in the dim light of the Jingshi—was heartbreaking, especially now he knew the origin of these thirty-three whip scars. Each of these scars represented someone Lan Zhan protected Wei Ying from. Thirty-three people from his own clan, his own family who he fought to save him. Wei Wuxian idly traced the outline of a few of them with his fingers. Tears welled up in his eyes. Lan Wangji dropped his head down.

“Your brother told me what happened,” Wei Wuxian admitted. “Lan Zhan, I—”

“Wei Ying, it is—”

“No,” Wei Ying interrupted. He could guess Lan Zhan’s intention to say it was okay or it was fine. “Just—just let me—.” Wei Wuxian was not entirely sure what he was asking Lan Zhan to let him do, but Lan Zhan nodded his head anyway, glancing at Wei Ying over his shoulder.

Wei Wuxian lowered his head to rest his cheek against Lan Zhan’s back. He felt Lan Zhan flinch under him as he felt a cold tear slip down Wei Wuxian’s face and onto his exposed back. Then, he froze as Wei Ying turned his head and pressed a faint kiss to one of the scars.

“I’m sorry and thank you.”

Another kiss.

“I’m sorry and thank you.”

Another kiss.

The routine continued for each individual scar. Wei Wuxian pressed his lips to the raised skin and whispered his endless sorrow and gratitude. With every utterance, he conveyed unspoken words from his heart. He spoke with unbridled reverence and worshipped every scar with each kiss.

I’m sorry you were hurt because of me.

I’m sorry I left you behind.

I’m sorry I took so long to come back to you.

Thank you for waiting.

Thank you for protecting me.

Thank you for loving me.

Wei Wuxian could think of a unique reason behind every single apology and thanks. He owed Lan Zhan everything. Thirty-three sorry’s and thank you’s could barely scratch the surface. He could scream it from the clifftops for the rest of his life and it still would not be enough.

After the last scar, Wei Wuxian lifted his head up while letting his hand linger against Lan Zhan’s back, rubbing in lazy circles. He stared, but his eyes were unfocused.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said, sensing his troubled mind.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian said. He paused before continuing, “You could have died.”

“I did not,” Lan Zhan stated.

“But you could have! Lan Zhan, I’m not going to ask you if these hurt because I know you’d lie to me, I know they must have hurt. You were in so much pain. All this for me, and you might not have even made it out alive. I’m not worth it, Lan Zhan. What if you died. It would have been my fault—”

“If I died, it would have been fine.”

“Lan Zhan—”

Lan Wangji twisted around to fully face Wei Wuxian. “It would have been fine because I would have been reunited with you, Wei Ying,” he said, staring directly into the other’s tear-filled eyes.

Wei Ying laughed softly and swiped a tear from his eye. “Lan Zhan, you can’t just say things like that.”

“Wei Ying, I—”

Wei Wuxian put a finger up to Lan Zhan’s lips before he could continue. “I know,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I love you too, Lan Zhan.”

Lan Zhan’s face shifted in a genuine smile, one that to anyone other than Wei Wuxian might not have even been noticed as a smile, but Wei Wuxian saw it for what it really was, a smile brighter than the sun. “Then,” Lan Zhan began, “you should know that there is no need for apologies or thanks between us.”

Wei Wuxian sighed. “I know, I know, just let me get it out of my system.” He reached up to delicately hold Lan Wangji’s face between his palms.

“I’m sorry and thank you,” he said for the last time before he closed the distance between them and kissed Lan Zhan. He worshipped his lips as he worshipped his scars, kissing Lan Zhan tenderly. Lan Zhan kissed him back just as passionately, yet not rushed. Sorry’s and thank you’s behind them, they had all the time in the world to prove to each other that those words were no longer necessary between them. Even so, Wei Wuxian would know the importance of those two phrases for as long as he lived.

#the untamed #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #wangxian #lan wangji #wei wuxian #fanfiction #missing scene #set mostly during episode 43 #hi I made myself cry while writing this #I could not stop thinking about all the parallels with im sorry and thank you #I really should be finishing my grad school apps but this is more important #cql #my fics

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sprnklersplashes · 3 years

Text

songwriter!janis fic (unrequited crush, no-very-happy-ending)

also on ao3

It all started because she loved Taylor Swift when she was in middle school. Who is she kidding, she still loves Taylor Swift, but that’s where all this began. A middle school girl’s obsession with Taylor Swift. A confused, sad girl with a broken heart and smudged black eyeliner, finding refuge in lyrics about loneliness and anger and revenge. They became anthems for her, mantras to mutter when the warzone of middle school became too much for her.

“Someday, I’ll be living in a big old city, and all you’re ever gonna be is mean.”

“Cause I knew you were trouble when you walked in.”

“I can still see you, this ain’t the best view.”

It amazes her. It’s honestly as if Taylor Swift has managed to look into her life and given her a bundle of songs for whatever she needs. For when Regina has thrown her one too many snide looks, for when she’s standing at the door of North Shore High on her first day, for when she eats lunch alone, for when her mom is the best mom she could have asked for, for when she and Damian are lying on the grass in her backyard, staring up at the sky, laughing at absolutely nothing. The songs become the soundtrack to her life, the chords and those raw, honest lyrics an emotional outlet she so desperately craves. Taylor, and her songs, become a confidant, almost a close friend who always knows what to say.

With all that in mind, perhaps it was only a matter of time before she asks for a guitar for Christmas. She’s fourteen, braces and a slight lisp, and jumps up and down like a mad woman when she sees it under the tree.

She practices for three days straight, until her fingers bleed, but Should’ve Said No is the first song she learns off by heart. She yells the lyrics with maybe a little too much passion, but her parents applaud her nonetheless.

Like she said, that’s how it all started.

Because that same Christmas, she realises that screaming her feelings while playing guitar actually feels pretty cathartic. And that if it worked for Taylor Swift, it could work for her. So she writes stuff down, plays around with chords and strumming until the beat on the guitar matches the one in her head. She grabs a page and a pencil and writes and re-writes her innermost thoughts and feelings on the page until they sound the way she wants them to. She plays around with rhyme schemes and structure and everything she’s been taught about in English class, and a thrill runs through her as she does so. It’s the same breathless high she feels when she paints or draws, the rush that comes from creating something.

Her parents sit on the other side of her bedroom door, no doubt exchanging worried glances as she repeats the same verse, same chorus, with only a word changed. She watches them when they think she can’t see, peering through the crack in her door. The conclusion they seem to come to is ‘well, as coping mechanisms go, it’s pretty good, and she’s happy, so who are we to stop it?’.

It takes her four days to finish her first song. And it sucks. But she keeps it, writes down the lyrics and chords in one of the few empty notebooks she has, and there’s no going back from it now. She writes, and she writes, and she writes, near enough every day. She likes to think she gets better with each one. She learns more chords, buys a cheap ukulele the summer after freshman year, tries her hand at piano during a particularly difficult few weeks. She doesn’t plan on doing anything with them. They’re just her little pieces to hold on to. Her therapy sessions outside the carpeted office.

No-one knows about it. She has a reputation to keep up, after all. The loner-by-choice, too-cool-for-school, aloof art freak. Everyone has their roles to play in the ecosystem that is high school and, much as she hates the entire system, that is hers to play. And she plays it well, if she may say so. The fact that hardly anyone knows her past that facade suits her just fine. After all, if people think she doesn’t care, she can’t get hurt. No-one needs to know that Janis Sarkisian actually has feelings.

Even less need to know that she writes songs about said feelings.

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By the time she reaches her junior year, she’s onto her third notebook. She keeps them tucked away in her sock drawer, expertly hidden so only she can find them. Damian teases her about it, calling her “the protagonist of a Disney Channel Original Movie”. She just rolls her eyes and reminds him that “if either of us is gonna be Disney’s first openly gay character, it’ll be you”. He can’t argue with that.

It should be noted that when Janis said that no-one knows about her songwriting, Damian was the obvious exception. He found out just weeks after she started. There’s no keeping secrets from him.

Between all her notebooks, she’s written around forty songs.

Then she meets Cady Heron one day. The human embodiment of a labrador puppy, complete with wide, lost eyes. She likes her instantly, decides to take her under her wing because Lord knows the girl needs it. Cady’s smile is infectious, her laugh like a summer breeze. She has dimples and caramel-coloured hair and really likes maths.

She meets Cady on a Monday.

By that Saturday, song number 41-titled “Dimples and Curls” is more or less complete.

She plays it for Damian, hands only slightly shaking as she changes chords, the strumming short and upbeat, the melody strangely happy for such a bittersweet song.

He applauds her, but the subject of the song hangs in the air even after she’s played the last chord and the music fades. Unsaid, but not unknown. Just like her songwriting, Janis couldn’t keep a crush from Damian if she tried.

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“Hey, check it out.”

Cady drops onto the seat across from Janis, the whole table shaking as she does so. Like a small meteor just hit Earth. Janis looks up from her lunch, pretending like she had been doing her own thing and not watching the door until Cady came in. Pretending like her stomach doesn’t do little flips at the sight of her crossing the cafeteria. She pulls the flyer towards her and hums in amusement.

“The winter talent show,” she reads before chomping off a carrot stick. “Oh, is it that time of year already?”

“Seems like only yesterday we was welcoming the young’uns into this brave new world during the harvest season,” Damian sighs, putting on a delightfully over the top Southern Belle accent, no doubt influenced by their reading of Streetcar Named Desire in English class. Janis cackles, and nearly chokes on her lunch as she does.

“And now the cold winds of winter are descending upon us,” she replies, her accent equally heavy. She bats her eyes for good measure, because she can and because it makes Cady laugh. “Oh but I pray the children will survive this season, it is often rough for them.”

“I am never showing you two anything winter related ever again,” Cady says.

Janis just shrugs and runs her hand through her hair before her eyes go back to the flyer. Clearly, whatever sophomore they got to design it this year did their best; found the prettiest looking snowflakes on Google Images to put on the cartoon stage, decided to write in some swirling, slanted font rather than the start-studded block lettering they usually went for. It’s still the same as it is every year, meaning just as mockable, but she’ll give them points for tying.

“Well, anyone here going for it?” she asks. She looks from Damian to Cady and back again, a teasing smirk on her lips. “Last year and all that.”

“Not sure I can,” Damian sighs. “I mean, I’m booked up with Spelling Bee rehearsals and spring cabaret auditions happening next semester.” He drums his fingers against his throat. “Gotta give the little vocal chords some rest, you know?”

Janis’ response is to sing the lowest note she possibly can before turning to Cady and giving her a pointed look, the corner of her mouth quirked up.

“Who? Me?” Cady’s cheeks turned crimson and she shakes her head so much that the caramel curls bounced around her shoulders. “No way. Damian can take the stage, I’m fine with my calculators and textbooks.”

“You could always solve equations in front of everyone,” Janis says. “I could call out college-level questions from the audience and you solve them in under 30 seconds.”

“I think I’ll pass,” she giggles. She leans forward slightly, eyes glittering, and Janis does her best not to squirm. The effect Cady Heron’s eyes have on her should be studied by scientists. “What about you, Janis?”

“I don’t know.” She thinks back to when she helped on stage crew last year, as well as helping out (or taking over) with the set design. It had been fun, the kind of challenge she needed to keep her mind off the slowly-going-off-the-rails plan. And she was told it looked good on her college applications, because all people can think about apparently is college, college, college. “Maybe. They might need another genius stage manager.”

“And you’ll step in if they can’t find one?” She digs Damian in the ribs for that comment.

“But not performing?” Cady asks, and Janis freezes. Performing had never even crossed her mind before. She’s used to backstage, hell, she likes backstage. It’s not that she has stage fright or anything, and if she had, her stunt at Ms Norbury’s little healing session would have squished it. She had just never thought about it.

But Cady had, apparently.

“I-No, I-I don’t think so,” she stammers out. “Um, I might do backstage again, but not actually doing something, you know, talent related.” She bites her tongue and clamps her lips shut before anything else can come out.

“Okay then,” Cady replies slowly. She gets up from the table, her little empty water bottle in her hands. “I’m going to go for a refill, save my seat.”

“No problem,” Janis says, but Cady’s already jogging away.

She doesn’t know if it’s good or bad that Cady’s known her too long to think of her as cool, and so this kind of awkward babbling isn’t really surprising to her. Instead of thinking about it, she just sets her head on the table and lets Damian rub her back.

“You were nowhere near as bad as you think you were,” he assures her.

“Title of your sex tape,” comes her murmured reply. Damian chuckles and runs his fingers through her hair, like she’s his pet cat. It helps.

“So you’re definitely not going for the talent show then?” he asks.

Her first instinct is to say no, because of course she isn’t, because she never has before and she sees no point in breaking a three-year streak, but the answer catches in her throat. At the same time, something begins forming in her brain, pieces of a melody she’s already known, words filling in blank spots in her brain, and her fingers twitch involuntarily, playing the chords on an invisible guitar. Without a word, she grabs a notepad and pen from her bag and scribbles the words down before she forgets them, quickly becoming breathless just by sitting there. She forgets, for a moment, everything else, the talent show, Cady, even Damian next to her, and just revels in the task and the quick buzz she gets just from writing. Just like that she has one eye on the clock, itching to get home and put her notes into the rest of the song.

But with those notes came an idea, an idea so completely out of left field she almost laughs at it.

“Janis?” Damian asks, just slightly unnerved by her. If anyone else were at this table, even Cady (especially Cady), she would have had to excuse herself and run to the bathroom, or just hope the words stayed in her head long enough for her to get a quiet moment. “Did the Goddess of Music just possess you again?”

“Maybe,” is her response. He doesn’t know it, but she answered both the questions he asked in the past minute.

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She sits on her bed that night, her homework half-done and strewn across the desk, abandoned in favour of the guitar sitting in her lap and notebook open on her bed. She’s been working on his song for the better part of a week, inspiration and motivation seemingly striking and then fading whenever she gets a free moment. Abandoning it has crossed her mind-she’s no stranger to abandoning things that aren’t working-but for some reason she hasn’t quite been able to shake this particular song off.

Maybe it is Euterpe, the Goddess of Music, descending upon her because this song has to be finished, it has to be, Olympus willing it so.

Or maybe it’s because this song is one of the most personal things she’s ever written, a love letter she’ll never send, and the idea of it sitting unfinished drives her crazy.

She plays another chord and sings the line again, changing the ending slightly, and makes the adjustment in her notes.

She’s crazy. This is already crazy, her secret double life as a wannabe T-Swift, but now she’s gone beyond that. Thinking of actually playing it. On a stage. In front of people. She doesn’t care what people think of her, she stopped caring about that a long, long time ago, but holy shit what will people think of her after she does this? Life isn’t like the movies, she knows that much. It won’t be some pretty, softly-lit moment where the crowd sits with teary eyes, Cady runs onstage and kisses her and she’s offered a deal by some big shot producer, and they all live happily ever after the end. What could happen is people think she’s even more of a weirdo than they do now.

Or she gets tomatoes thrown at her head and she’s booed off the stage. That’s a possibility.

She calls Damian, because that’s the only way she sees out of her little thought cul-de-sac. She puts the phone on speaker and props it up against a pillow, keeping her hands free for her guitar and her pen. He picks up on the third ring, just as she’s strumming out a G chord.

“Oh, is someone prepping for her Grammy?” he asks. “You’re still taking me as your date, right?”

“Only if my dog can’t go,” she replies. She taps her nails against the wood, the rhythm too fast and frantic to just be a habit. Yes, she can tell Damian anything, and being nervous in front of him is laughable, but sometimes her body forgets that. “So, I was thinking about the talent show.”

“Oh? You’re going for stage crew again? Cool.”

“No-not exactly.” She knows he can’t see the smile creeping across her face, but she’d wager he can hear it through the phone. A small swarm of butterflies flutters in her chest, leaving her just slightly out of breath. “I… I. think I’m going to try performing in it.”

A burst of laughter comes through the phone, slightly tinged with static, and Janis wishes he were here so she could slap him. Even if it’s not malicious in intent at all, and she’s laughing right along with him. Slapping is kind of a love language for them.

“Okay, okay cool. What’re you going to do?”

“I’ll give you a hint,” she says, and then she plays the opening chords to her latest experiment. She doesn’t add in the lyrics, not yet. Still, she sits back and basks in his applause when she finishes, cackling into her hand. He might be one person, but he’s got enough enthusiasm to match a packed auditorium. “What do you think?”

“I’m into it,” he tells her. “So… that’s the one you’re doing?”

“Think so.” She tosses the pick between her fingers. Like he could feel her smile, she can feel his raised eyebrow through the phone, the elephant in the room poking her with its trunk. “Yes, I know.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You thought it,” she tells him, and he doesn’t deny it. She looks back over the lyrics she’s written and re-written. Despite some adjustments, it’s still in essence the same. Still about a girl with pretty hair who smells like vanilla and cinnamon, who has a boyfriend and is unknowingly breaking the heart of a girl with black eyeliner and paint stained fingers. Because her boyfriend is pretty and clean and smells like soap and can do math, and how is the poor art girl even meant to compare to that?

“Yes,” she says after a while. “It is about Cady.”

“Aw, my poor lovestruck songstress,” he sighs. He shifts then, and the air shifts with him. “You sure that’s the one you want to sing? I mean you have dozens of other non-Cady related songs. I’m sure Mr Duvall would love to hear Angry Teenage Lesbian Anthem.”

“First off, I gave that one a title, it’s called Shattered,” she reminds him. “And-” She freezes, the rest of her sentence catching in her throat. He’s right. She could perform one of her other songs, that are already finished and therefore removing the pressure to have this one finished, polished and stage-ready. And of course, it would mean she wouldn’t be standing in front of her entire grade and telling them all how badly she’s in love with her best friend. Showing her deepest secret to the people who have already driven her out of school once. It’s a far safer, potentially less traumatic option for her.

But…

“No,” she says. “I know it sounds crazy but I feel like… I feel like I need to do this.” She swallows thickly and picks softly at the guitar strings. “It’s like… like this way at least I’m telling her, you know? Even if she doesn’t know it.”

Of course, Damian gets it.

“That’s beautiful, babe,” he tells her. “So you’re actually doing this?”

“I’m actually doing this,” she replies firmly. “And tomorrow, I need you to make sure I don’t chicken out before I sign up.”

“Got it. I’ll just order you to do it as Senior Co-Chair of the Student Activities Committee.”

“That’s an abuse of power.”

“Then consider yourself abused baby.” He laughs and she laughs with him, and then she hears something on Damian’s end. “I have to go. A certain little sister of mine has a princess costume that needs attending to. See you later.”

“See you later,” she replies before he clicks off the call. She looks down at her paper, then at her guitar, and thinks about what she just committed to. “I’ve got some work to do.”

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The song goes through four rewrites in the weeks leading up to the talent show. The whole first verse is changed, the chorus scrapped and replaced with a new one, then that one is scrapped and she goes back to the old one. She sits hunched on her floor with a pencil in her mouth, wondering if what she’s written is too personal or not personal enough. If it’s too obvious that Cady, smart cookie that she is, will work it out and that’ll lead them down a new, scary path. She cuts some lyrics that give the game away, opting to replace one about love for numbers with love for learning, because that opens up the pool to half their grade. She writes about Cady’s blue eyes rather than specifically those double dimples that make her melt. Maybe she’s compromising her artistic vision, but it might be worth it if it’ll keep her crush a secret. She keeps the old lyrics tucked in the back of her notebook, just to have them.

Meanwhile, she’s also dealing with the fact that people know she has signed up for the talent show. That Miss Too Cool For School Loner Art Freak Janis is actually performing at a school event. And she doesn’t even get extra credit for it. They’re surprised, and curious, and none more so than Cady. The other girl appears at her side almost instantly after first period, skinny little arms wrapped around her bicep and blue eyes alight.

Oh, the things those eyes do to her.

“Janis!” she squeaks. “I saw-on the sign up sheet-your name! Oh my God, is this a joke? Did Damian put you up to it?”

“No, no, I signed up of my own accord,” Janis tells her. That only makes Cady bounce more, ponytail bobbing up and down.

“Oh wow, that’s amazing!” she says. She stops then, her mouth freezing in its place and her cheeks turning pink. Slowly, she comes down to Earth, like a balloon that had the air let out of it. Janis can almost hear the wheeze. “I mean um, it’s pretty cool, I guess.”

“It’s pretty grool,” Janis replies, and just like that Cady bounces back up again.

“Oh my gosh, what are you going to do?” she asks. “Or do you want it to be a surprise?”

“You think I have some secret knife-throwing talent?” she grins. She hesitates for a moment, looking down at Cady’s excited face, because even if this isn’t telling her… it’s telling her. “I’m… I’m going to sing.” She pulls on the strap of her backpack and avoids Cady’s eyes. “Something I wrote.”

“Okay,” Cady says. “Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

“Hey!” she laughs. “I can write stuff. I can be deep.”

“Oh, I have no doubt about it,” Cady says, bumping her arm against Janis’. “But for real, Janis, I can’t wait to see it. I know you’ll be amazing.”

Warmth spreads across her pale cheeks, a pink blush no doubt colouring her face, and she somehow manages to choke out a “thanks” as her brain turns to static. Her only thought is ‘Cady thinks I’m going to be good’, and it’s written in glitter pen across her brain.

“This is going to be great,” she goes on. “Oh, wait until I tell Aaron. He’s got a break in his schedule that week so he’s coming up to see the talent show! Isn’t that great?”

And just like that, Janis’ good mood falls. Her face stays the same, because she’s trained to do it, but everything behind it crumbles.

“Yeah, that’s great,” she replies. Cady squeezes her hand, oblivious, and drags her along the hallway, chatting away about some lion documentary she had watched last night.

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She finishes the song that night. She arrives home with a heavy chest, so full of complicated, messy feelings, and her conversation with Cady still so fresh in her mind, her ears still ringing from the emotional whiplash. Her parents barely get a ‘hello’ as she enters and bolts up to her room, her hands shaking, the thoughts swirling around her brain desperate to be let out.

And let them out she does. She writes so quickly they look more like smudges than words, her fingers flying over rapidly changing chords, her voice broken and panting as she sings. The words almost write themselves, like the song has taken on a life of its own and she’s just along for the ride. She barely remembers to pause, to breathe, so wrapped up in the storm she’s created with just her guitar and pen.

It’s only when she finishes and falls back on her bed that she notices the tears in her eyes. She blinks them away and pulls herself up, her notebook in her hand. It’s done. The perfect blend of her own honest feelings and just enough smokescreen to keep people from knowing who it’s really about.

There’s no backing out now, she thinks. Her stomach drops, like she’s on the top of a roller coaster about to go down. A laugh bubbles up in her throat and leaves her breathless, her head spinning while she’s still laying there.

If holy shit were am adjective, she'd use it to describe how she feels. Because holy shit.

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Being backstage when she’s not on crew is a strange experience. She stands with her guitar slung around her body, in the middle of a current of students moving around her, half with the clunky microphones and walkie-talkies she’s used so many times before. She asks five of them if she can do anything to help-because they’re her people and she needs to do something to occupy her time-until she finally takes the hint and leaves them to it. Stagehands are the most efficient parts of any production, as she told Damian once. They’re a well-oiled machine at this point.

“Yo!” For a second, Janis thinks she imagined the whisper, just one in a jumble of backstage noises, until Damian appears at her side. A tiny ‘shit’ escapes her mouth, her body jerking. Barely anyone bats an eye at her, except him. “Sorry, didn’t mean to spook you.”

“Don’t worry. I think at this point a small breeze could knock into me and I’d crumble.”

“The great Janis Sarkisian gets nervous?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

“Only when she’s doing something incredibly personal and scary in front of her entire grade,” she whispers back. She swallows past the lump in her throat. “Aside from that I’m a beacon of confidence and unshakable will.”

“Hey.” He taps his knuckles against hers. “Remember how scared you were at Norbury’s assembly?”

“You mean after I had my picture all over the school with the d-slur written underneath it?” she mutters. “Yeah, I was shitting myself.”

“And yet, look what you did there,” he reminds her. “You were amazing. And you’re going to be amazing here too. Once you get on that stage, all those butterflies are going to make you fly, kid.”

She smiles, her heart warm, and pressed her face into the crook of Damian’s neck.

She doesn’t know how she got so lucky to have him, but she knows better than to tempt fate.

“Janis Sarkisian?” She lifts her head to find a freshman girl with a headset around her neck looking at her. “You’re up next.”

“Okay.” It’s only now she becomes aware that the last minute of Fairytale Of New York is playing, the notes will soon fade out, and that’s her cue. She turns to Damian and lets him straighten her black cardigan and fiddle with the collar of her shirt. “Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need it.” He drops a whisper of a kiss to her nose. “But good luck.”

She holds her half-heart necklace as he goes, the twin to the one around his neck. It’s as close as she can get to having him with her. Her chest tightens as she makes her way to the stage and she tries to breathe through it, because the next thign she knows, Mr Duvall is announcing her name, and she’s being greeted by a blinding spotlight that thankfully obscures most of her peers’ faces.

“Uh, hi,” she says into the microphone placed out for her. It’s just people , she reminds herself. Somewhere in that crowd, second row, seat 14, is Damian, and she breathes easier. And next to him is Cady, the girl this song is about, and for some reason that straightens her spine and irons out the shaking in her voice. She takes the pick out of its holder and tosses her hair back. “This is a song I wrote about being in love with someone who doesn’t love you back.” She blinks and hopes no-one sees the tears in her eyes. “So sing along if you get into it, because we all know it’s a shitty ass feeling.”

She plays the first chord, and then any and all doubts she had about this flee her. As cliche as it sounds, the song takes over her, and she blows through the nerves in the first verse. The experience becomes cathartic instead, like releasing a pressure valve on her soul. Even with the little diversions she threw in, she hasn’t felt this open and god damn free since last year, paraded on her peers’ shoulders with both middle fingers up. Except now she’s not flipping anyone off, or proving a point, she’s just finally telling someone how she feels, and holy shit, it’s amazing. Whatever the aftermath of this is, she won’t care, it’s worth it just for this feeling.

As she sings the last word, and that final note rings in the auditorium, her hands are shaking, her cheeks wet with tears and her hair sticky with sweat. She touches beneath her eye and her fingers come away stained black. She hasn’t cried in front of people since middle school. She doesn’t care.

The cheers of her classmates ring in her ears, Damian’s whooping the loudest of all, and as she takes her bow, she hopes she’ll remember this moment for a long time.

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“Oh my God!” she’s barely into the auditorium when Cady launches herself at her, arms wrapped around her neck and legs circling her waist. Janis nearly topples over, digging her back leg into the ground just in time, and hugs Cady with the same ferocity. “You were amazing!” she yells into her shoulder, the sound muffled by Janis’ hair.

“Really?”

“Absolutely.” She sets Cady down, but the other girl keeps a tight grip on both her arms. Janis wonders if it’s to keep herself from flying away, given the amount of bouncing up and down she’s doing. “I can’t believe you wrote that! It was so good! You need to record it, Jan. Do you have any other songs?”

“Just a few,” she says. “And I don’t know if I’m in the business of making an album any time soon.” She swings her guitar case a little. “This might have been a one-time thing.”

“Well, even if it was, it was awesome,” she says.

“Thank you, Caddy,” Janis replies. “That means a lot.”

Her mouth runs dry as Cady smiles, all baby pink lipgloss and sparkling eyes and full cheeks. If this were a movie, she thinks, this would be the part where they kiss. No need for talking, or an explanation. Because Cady would have just known. The music would turn soft and twinkly, and the lighting would match it and it would look like they’re in a dream and they’d just kiss, and it will fix all of Janis’ problems. Maybe a single tear will run down her cheek. And then they’ll run off into their new lives as the end credits roll.

How sweet that would be.

But her life isn’t a movie. If she wants anything, she has to go for it herself.

And that includes-

“Caddy.” Her name is delicate on her lips, handled with care. Cady looks at her, giving a simple ‘mm-hm’ in response, and Janis’ heart beats out of control. “That song I just sang, it-”

“Hey, guys.”

Also if this was a movie, Cady’s sweet, lovely, nice boyfriend would not be barging in right now. He’d either be a douchebag who she doesn’t feel bad about hurting, or he’d be nonexistent.

Unfortunately, this is not a movie, and Aaron Samuels exists and is the human equivalent of a squishmallow.

“Hey Aaron.” He slings his arm around Cady’s shoulders, and she leans into his touch almost instinctively. “Janis, you were great up there. I didn’t know you wrote songs.”

“It’s a bit of a new hobby,” she says, her voice hoarse. She clears her throat, and finds a bottle of water being handed to-thrown at-her.

“Hydrate those chords,” is Damian’s greeting.

“This is what I get for being friends with a theatre kid,” she sighs before she takes a drink. She hadn’t realised how dry her throat was until now.

“Okay, so we’re all going for pancakes,” Aaron says. “I take it you two are coming?”

“How can I say no to pancakes?” Janis asks. “Uh, you guys go ahead, I have to get my stuff from the green room.”

“Okay, we’ll wait for you,” Cady says. “Aaron brought his car so he can drive us.”

“Grool.” Cady and Aaron turn around together, Aaron spinning his eyes around his finger and Cady lacing her fingers through his, talking about something she can’t hear. It’s like watching them through a sheet of glass.

Not a movie. Not unless it’s one of those really, really sad movies. Sad homophobic movies.

“You okay?” Damian asks. She snorts at the question. Nothing has changed, so of course she’s okay. But then, nothing has changed, so she’s not really okay.

“I did it,” she sighs. “It’s out there. I told her, unofficially. Whether or not she works it out…” She runs her hand through her tangled hair. “That’s something else entirely.” Damian hums in agreement, a sympathetic look on his face that soon morphs into a grin.

“Hey,” he says. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks Mom.” They snort, Janis caught between a laugh and a sob, and squeezes Damian’s hand. She’s not optimistic about any romance in her future, at least where Cady is concerned. She and Aaron are still rock-solid and she’s happy for them, whenever she isn’t angsting about it. It’s a weird combination to have.

And at least she’s done this now. Despite a future for her and Cady not being in the cards for now, she’s glad she did it. The secret isn’t out, not entirely. Just written on the walls in invisible ink.

“Come on,” she tells Damian. “I actually do have to get my bag, and you can use this as an opportunity to double check the ghost light is on.”

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Cady and Aaron keep their promise and wait for them, waving off their apologies as they jog across the parking lot. Cady lets Damian take the front seat with Aaron and slides into the back with Janis instead. Janis frowns, confused as to why she isn’t taking her normal seat up front, and Cady rolls her eyes.

“There was a draw on the way here, and we lost,” she explains. “And now Damian has control of the aux chord,” She gestures with her head to the passenger seat, and Janis turns just in time to see him open his Spotify and scroll through his playlists. As the opening notes to Waving Through A Window fill the car, it’s met with three loud groans. Damian only turns it up louder, and adds in his own backing vocals.

“So, that song you sang,” Cady asks, leaning back in the seat. “Was it about anyone in particular?”

Janis looks down, her hands pressed together in her lap. If this is the moment the universe decided to give her, it’s a really terrible moment. Not only is Cady’s whole boyfriend sitting an arm’s length away from her, but she left her nerve back in the auditorium. Clearly, her and fate aren’t on each other’s wavelength.

“You wouldn’t know her,” she says. “She doesn't even go here.”

“Oh,” Cady replies. Her face falls, but she’s not too put out by it. Why would she be? She nudges Janis’ shoulder, a proud smile on her face, and squeezes Janis’ hand. “Well, if she has someone like you into her and she hasn’t taken the chance yet, then she doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

Janis only thanks her, and quickly changes the subject.

Someday she might tell her for real, but for now she'll stick to the songs.

#mean girls broadway #mean girls fanfic #cadnis #janis sarkisian #cady heron #cadnis ff #cady x janis #space safari #mean girls musical

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random-mha-thoughts · 4 years

Text

Sleepless (LoV x Reader)

Pairing: League of Villains x Reader, platonic relationship

Shigaraki, Toga, Twice, Kurogiri, Dabi x reader

@riarora messaged me with the request: "So I was thinking platonic LOV x child reader (You can make them 18 if you're more comfortable, but I was thinking more like 14-15)The reader (I'll refer to them as she/her, but you can make it gender neutral) has really bad insomnia so every night, she would be pacing around, doing anything and everything to make sure no dark thoughts take over. Usually, none of the LOV would bat an eye, but considering the fact that she's a child, they feel sympathy, so they indirectly try to get her to fall asleep. Like, sending her on extra missions (always with protection of course) or changing her normal tea with sleeping tea, or maybe just straight up telling her to sleep."

Genre: Comfort

Word Count: 2,291

Tags: @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog

a/n: Thanks for the request sweetie! I hope you like it~

Wrote this while listening to a Shinsou playlist on Spotify and it was pretty chill to listen to, if y’all want the link you can comment or dm me and I’ll send it. Something different, but I like how it turned out. It's twice as long as I thought it would end up being, but I think it fits. It's a comfort story that I hope you guys will read even if you don't normally read stuff for the villains. I really like it, I hope you guys read it if you need some comforting. Enjoy~

Like a lot of people, I don't have the nicest thoughts. Most nights, I'm trying everything to block them out and find the sweet release of sleep, whether it's trying to consciously think of other things to block them out, escaping out of my sheets to pace or run in place inside this small room I was given, or getting up to get a snack. Unsurprisingly, none of it works. The rest of the League constantly tease me about my dark circles making me look more villainous all I do is smile, because at least it means I'm part of something now. I would ask them to get me something to busy myself, like a sketch book or a notebook to keep me busy at night, but they aren't my parents; they have no obligation to take care of me and they've already give me a roof over my head and a bed to sleep in.

Little by little, the perceived barrier between us broke down before I realized it.

It started when I took one of my late night trips to the kitchen only to see the light on already. Toga's crooked but innocent smile beams up at me as she twirls a knife in her hand, leaning against the counter. "You're up too, hmm~? Wanna take a trip with me?"

We ended up shrugging on our jackets and masks, walking into the dark, brisk night to the nearest grocery store. "You waited until 2 AM to get pomegranates?" I raised an eyebrow at her zipping straight to the produce section of the market.

"I didn't wanna go alone~" Toga casually responded in her singsongy voice. "A little girl like me shouldn't be out alone at night. Besides, late night shopping in a practically empty supermarket is the best time to go. It's super creepy!" She giggles, filling a plastic bag with three large fruits.

We returned to our hideout and she asked me to help her de-seed them. I slide in next to her, taking the knife out of her hand. Not like I had anything better to do. What was I gonna do, sleep? Sure, okay.

She sliced the fruits in half and held her hands over a large, empty container, using just her hands to push the seeds off the bitter white core, humming to herself. "Are you sure there isn't a more...strategic way to do this?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at the mess she was making of her hands.

Toga just giggled and held my stare with her cat-like yellow eyes. "When it gets all over your fingers, it kind of looks like blood doesn't it?" She shivered in ecstasy as she licked the scarlet juice running down her hands and the knife she cut them with. "Mmm, so sweet."

While I continued, trying to avail to be as clean as possible, taking sips of the tea she made for us while we work. I chanced a few tastes myself, chuckling at my own hands. "You're right, it looks like we've commit murder."

"Right?" she chirped with the widest grin, "Isn't it fun?"

I made a better point to get more juice on my fingers before curling my fingers grossly towards her. "I want your heart, Toga. Give it to me!" I growled.

She giggled and held one of my wrists so she can lick some of the juice off. "Too bad you can't have it."

After we finished gathering the seeds into the bowl, we sat on the couch, munching on them by the handful and finishing our drinks. My eyelids kept drooping as I drank my tea.

"We should go on adventures more often," Toga purred as I near the end, taking my cup, laying me down, and covering my body with a blanket before petting my head. Her voice singing, "Sleep well, (Y/n)" was the last thing I heard before drifting off. It was the best night's sleep I'd gotten in a long while.

A few days later, Kurogiri stopped me from heading to bed while the rest went off. "I heard you and Toga up late a few nights ago. Why don't you help me clean up before going up?"

I agreed, mostly because I would be awake with my thoughts anyway. He had me shining his glasses, climbing up a ladder to dust the top shelves of his bar, wiping down the counters, and organizing his liquor.

"Have some of this, child." He set down a cup of tea and saucer on the counter while I was organizing his top shelf liquor, the clock flashing 1:57 AM. "You've been a big help."

I climbed down carefully and stare down at the translucent, peach colored liquid carefully.

He noticed my cautiousness. "How are you adjusting?"

I tilted the cup around, swishing the liquid around before holding it up to my lips. "It's better than where I was before, thank you."

"I'm glad you're settling in and getting along with the rest."

"It's just Toga so far." I sipped a good portion of the hot liquid, easing down my through smooth as the honey I can taste that he added.

"It'll take time for the others to warm up to you. Shigaraki and Dabi especially don't take to strangers that easily, but they'll come around." His cold, portal enclosed hand rested on my head. "We're happy to take you in as our family, (Y/n)."

I smiled at his assurance of me, nodding in gratitude, but still hesitant about feeling that I fit in here.

We talked for a while more until I finished his tea and he sent me off to bed. Though reluctant - I even offered to do more cleaning up to keep myself there - he insisted I leave. I trudge to my room, the exhaustion in my bones and muscles more apparent than usual. I know this old trick; even when I'm fatigued, my thoughts still keep me up. But as I ease under the blanket and close my eyes, I feel myself pulled down into sleep without interference. I started thinking there was something in the tea.

It took a while for Shigaraki to come around, as Kurogiri said. He heard the rustling of me rolling around in bed on his way back from getting a glass of water from the kitchen. "Hey, you still awake?"

I turned over and sat up. "Am I bothering you? I'm sorry-"

"You wanna come play games with me?" It was an unexpected question. He never talked much to me so I figured he wanted to keep his distance.

But I still agreed, ending up in his dark room where only the TV cast its artificial light over us. He pulled up another pillow for me to sit with him, leaning back against the mattress and box-spring stack. He resumed his game, some kind of RPG with amazing art and storytelling. The main character had jet black hair and traveled with three other guys of varying talents and personalities. They seemed to have a great relationship together as they trekked across their virtual world in a fancy car. (1000 brownie points if you know which game i'm referencing)

There was a hilarious part in the game where the crew rode on the backs of these fluffy, yellow birds that were the size of ostriches. "What's the point of this part?" I asked curiously.

Shigaraki beamed at the screen, his chapped lips spreading in joy. "It's just something you always have to do in these games."

My eyes remained glued to the screen. Shigaraki wouldn't ask me if I wanted to play after one time, which I appreciated. I'm not too good at playing games, I prefer watching other people play them from the sidelines. I followed the complicated story line, impressed with how fleshed out the world is, the detail in the art, and the power system interface. If I were better at gaming, I'd understand how amazing it would feel playing it; I was immersed in it even as a spectator.

The game got to a cave-crawling segment. The eased up voice acting, ambient noise, and dimmed lighting made my eyes heavy. I didn't want to fall asleep in Shigaraki's room, but I also knew that I wouldn't be able to sleep if I went back to mine.

"You can sleep if you want. Get comfortable."

Though he didn't particularly use a motherly voice like Kurogiri, I understood he was trying to come off the same way. I ended up laying on my head on my pillow, sprawling onto the floor on my stomach, the noise of the game slowly lulling me off to sleep. In the morning, I would wake to a blanket pulled over my body. It somehow became a weekly occurrence; we wouldn't talk to each other, but the silence was comfortable. It was reassuring that I didn't always need that strange tea to put me to sleep.

Late nights with Twice are probably my favorite. He's like a huge dad, or much older big brother. I connected with him on a more emotional level than the rest. If I found myself in the kitchen rummaging for snacks, he'd come up and pick out a bunch and sit us at the table with some tea.

"I have trouble sleeping too sometimes," he admitted, popping some chips in his mouth. "I was lonely before I found these guys. I had no one but myself, and the many versions of myself weren't the most forgiving on me either."

I stared down at my glass of warmed milk. "So your thoughts were actually told out loud to you all the time?" I whispered softly.

"Yup." He blinked before waving his hands in front of his face wildly. "But that doesn't mean I had it worse than you, that's not what I'm saying at all! Your problems are just as valid and important and-!"

"It's okay, I understand."

He offered a sympathetic lopsided smile. "I know you've been through a lot, kid, and it probably feels like a lot and nothing at the same time. The times when it feels like a lot will hurt, and that's okay. You'll get through it and grow up to deal with it in your own way. And there is a light at the end of the tunnel, believe me. You can't see it now, but it's there. Keep fighting through it." He touched my hand over the glass. "I'm here for you, we're here for you."

I felt like crying, suddenly choked up by the bitter nostalgia of missing my parents. "You'd be a great Dad, Twice." I tried to cover for my tears and unsteady voice by clearing my throat and rubbing my eyes.

He hummed in response. "I've always wanted a kid. Things never ended up that way though."

I found myself finally sobbing at his misfortune piling on top of mine. "That's really shitty actually," I choked out.

He handed me a tissue to wipe my face with. "Let it out, kid. Sometimes it's good to just cry it out."

And I did, until I finally sobbed myself to sleep at the table, and Twice picked up and returned me to my bed, tucking me in like the soft dad he should've been.

Dabi remained the hard nose one, keeping his distance and looking down on me. Like Shigaraki, walked by my room while I was tossing around, but he stood over my bed. "Hey. If you don't go to sleep, I'm putting you to work."

Put me to work he did, sending me out to fetch him snacks, cards, or cigarettes. Once, he decided to join me and we ended up on the roof of our abandoned building after coming back from the convenience store. The stars already dusted the sky as Dabi lit the cigarettes with his blue flames just for fun, watching them disintegrate into ash in front of his eyes. I never knew how to get him to open up, he's too gruff for me to start a conversation with him, so I stuck to being mesmerized by his flames.

"What's on your mind that you can't sleep, kid?" he finally asked, breaking the awkward silence and cutting off his quirk to stare me hard in the eyes.

"N-Nothing." I hated to admit it, but I'm scared of Dabi the most. Both him and Shigaraki can end my life in a fraction of a second, but Dabi overall has the scarier aura. "Just...thinking."

After a few more moments of braving his stare, he looked up. "Yeah, we all do that a lot, don't we? Us damn human can't help but think. It'd be nice if we can pull the cord sometimes, yeah?"

"I guess," I answered carefully.

He studied me again out of the corner of his eye before flickering back up. "Do you ever think that's why none of us survive well alone? We need other people to distract us all the time because then we'd get stuck in our heads, and we all know how dangerous that can be if we're stuck there for too long. It never ends well." He adjusts himself, placing his hands behind his head to rest his neck. "We all got demons, kid. It's what makes us stronger, but you gotta grow from them first. And I guess that's what the rest of us are for, so if you need us, you know what to do."

It was with Dabi that I realized he had a point. I'm not alone anymore and none of the others seem to think of me as a stranger or a stupid little kid they have to be responsible for. I'm a member of this group now, I should rely on them as support, just not in the traditional way.

How I ultimately ended up here doesn't help any of the awful things I tell myself or what happened to me, but being here definitely helps, especially when I'm surrounded by people who subtly share solidarity with for now.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #league of villians x reader #dabi #toga himiko #mha twice #kurogiri #shigaraki #request #platonic #gender neutral reader #comfort #league of villains imagine #league of villains scenario #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

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imaginesforjohnnydepp · 3 years

Text

Soul Mate AU (Johnny Depp x fem reader)

for anon @kittenlittle24 @evelynrosestuff

Towards the end of May, your forearm began to itch and at first you thought nothing of it but the itching persisted over time, no matter how much you moisturized. Was it a rash? Or an allergic reaction to the new laundry detergent you've been using? You went to the doctor's but they didn't have the answer. When you got up for work this morning, it was the itching that woke you instead of your alarm and then you saw a set of numbers on your wrist: 06-09-63. Oh, now you knew. The birthdate of your soul mate.

A soul mate, you finally have one. Then a name started to appear beneath the set of numbers, Johnny Depp. How would you even pick him out in a crowd? You don't even know what he looks like but you know that you have to try to find him. "Hey Lisa, I'm going on my lunch break. See you in an hour."

You didn't wait for a response, only jumped out of your seat and swiped your purse from the chair. You went to your favorite coffee shop that was down the street from your office building; they have the best grilled gruyère cheese sandwiches and you always got it with barbecue kettle chips and a medim smoothie. It's only a two block walk to the cafè, the walk as familiar to you as if you were walking through your apartment, but today you lost your footing and came tumbling down; thankfully your pants kept your knees from coming into direct contact with the sidewalk but you could still feel the sting. "Oh fuck!" you shouted, attracting the attention of some passersby. Your hands also felt hot and as you examined them, you saw the shallow scrapes on your palms.

And your arm was still itching but not as much as it did in the last week. Your cousin told you that the itching usually dulled once you were in the same area as your soul mate, so could this mean that this Johnny guy is close? "Excuse me miss? Do you need any help?" A man was standing over you blocking the sun. He had tattoos covering his arms and an angular face.

A very haandsome angular face, and he was holding out his hand; you took it. "Oh, yeah. Thank you." When you got to your feet, up close, he really was handsome and he has rings on just about every one of his fingers. "I'm Y/N by the way," you offered, and the man's forehead wrinkled. "Wait, Y/N L/N?" he questioned.

"Yeah, that's my name, why?" The man flipped his arm over and the inside of his wrist was your birthday and your name. It looked like another tattoo added to his collection. "Johnny?" It felt like you were in a dream or some kind of Hallmark movie, this doesn't feel real at all, but here you are, face to face with your soul mate.

"It's you," he breathed out. He had these expressive brown eyes that made him loom youthful, almost closer to your age. You weren't that hungry anymore, your lunch just about forgotten. You weren't even sure if you wanted to go back to work. "Can-- can we go somewhere?" you asked, you were barely able to get the words out.

In the end, he ended up taking you to the cafè and the two of you sat outside in the patio area just talking, about any and everything. You could've talked to him forever if you didn't have to go back to work, and he walked you back to the building, even riding up in the elevator. Anything to spend more time with you. The doors opened up to your floor. "I had a really great time with you Johnny. I get off work at six, if you want to get dinner."

Johnny mentioned a restaurant that was a halfway point between both of your apartments and after exchanging phone numbers and addresses, he agreed to pick you up once you changed out of your work clothes. After lunch, work began to slow as it usually does after lunch and you were on the phone with your sister as you recounted the day to her; she screamed so loud you had to pull the phone away from your ear. "Oh my god Y/N! This is amazing! How do you feel about a summer wedding, or late spring? Maybe at the lake and you could wear a backless Vera Wang gown---" "Erica, we haven't even gone on a proper date yet and we only met a few hours ago. Slow down on the wedding talk, alright? We'll cross that bridge when we get there." You hung up a few minutes later and finished up some last minute emails before the work day was over.

You were able to clock out early, suddenly grateful that you actually remembered to pick up the dry cleaning. You freshened up a little, spraying a bit of your favorite perfume and touched up your makeup; you swiped on a final coat of mascara when a knock sounded on the door. "You look beautiful. Are you ready to go?" "Yeah, let me just get my purse." You took the purse from the hook, checked the thermostat and locked up.

The date was nice and you were able to pick up where you left off. He has two kids who he absolutely adores, loves to read, and loves his job as a high school art teacher and being creative as well. Johnny just completed painting a portrait of his dog who passed away a few years ago. "What about you? You ever thought about having children?" If your mom and sister were here they would be screaming yes.

"One day for sure, but with my job it might be a little complicated right now," you answered. So far, everyone you know has a kid, and one of the last childless friends you had left, Anya just welcomed her first child, a girl after New Year's, and your sister and brother-in-law have two sons, and you absolutely adore them. "I'd like to adopt obe day. Or be a stepmom," you said with a sly smile. Pregnancy wasn't that interesting to you after hearing all the horror stories that came with it, plus there are plenty of kids who need homes.

Johnny just smiled back as he sipped his water. "I'm sure the stepmom thing can be arranged." You had absolutely no doubt that he would follow through on his promise.

#johnny depp imagines #johnny depp imagine #johnny depp x reader

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klixxy · 3 years

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weekly fic recs

(ft. my bookmark comments - mostly mha and voltron)

boku no hero academia:

what is right and what is easy - theroyalsavage

(bnha; tododeku; fluff + angst; 2k words; oneshot)

Midoriya Izuku is not chosen to represent Hogwarts in the Triwizard Tournament. He does not slay a dragon, or rescue innocents, or brave a maze of dark magic. He does not win accolades, or fame, or glory.

Instead, Izuku meets the son of the greatest dark wizard of the age, a Durmstrang student with hair like a sunrise and eyes like a war. And maybe, he just might win something else.

If I'm Being Honest.... by I_dont_know_man

(bnha; tododeku; fluff + crack/humor; 26k words; oneshot; truth quirk)

Midoriya scrunched up his nose in confusion. “Uh, Shouto, why are you glaring at me like that?”

“I-” Todoroki began to lie, until nausea slammed him like a door to any room that Bakugou entered. “I--” Todoroki grit his teeth, and glared daggers into the wall behind Midoriya. Goodbye, friendship. It had been absolutely divine while it lasted. “Because you’re very attractive.”

They say honesty is the best policy, but it sure as hell had a knack for Todoroki making a complete and utter fool of himself.

Or: In which Todoroki is placed under a mysterious truth-telling quirk and suffers, Uraraka laughs at him, Midoriya is confused but smitten nonetheless, and Twitter is the thirstiest site on the planet.

paint on our lips (paint on those fingertips) by spicanao

(bnha; tododeku; angst + magical realism; 11k words; oneshot; gallery au)

Galleries are wonderful places. The works seem so vibrant, so beautiful, so alive.

Until they're actually alive.

(Ib AU)

[my bookmarks: holy shit this is beautiful in an odd, poignant, dream-like way]

Todoroki Shouto’s Amateur Guide to Not Fucking Up The Timeline by Anubis_2701

(bnha; tododeku; crack/humor; 13k words; oneshot; time travel; future fic)

All that Todoroki had wanted was milk. Nothing drastic, nothing dramatic, just milk.

Unfortunately, in his quest to get milk, he ended up running into one of the saltiest, most impulsive people this side of the globe. Who also just so happened to have a volatile time-travel quirk.

So yeah, he was fucked. Just slightly. Being punted randomly through time wasn't exactly how he'd wanted to spend his Saturday morning. At least the younger versions of his friends are cute.

awake and (un)afraid, asleep or- by driedupwishes

(bnha; tododeku; fluff + angst + The Feels; 54k words; oneshot; social media/future fic)

“You,” Shoto says, picking his head up from where his screen is filled with The Worst Photograph Ever, curtesy of Shinsou, Jiro, Kaminari, his brother, and nearly everyone they know. “You are so dead to me.”

Kirishima blinks, mouth half open while Izuku mutters oh god, it’s too late, isn’t it on the other end of the phone, before Kirishima is leaning into his space to see his screen.

“Oh,” he says, in response to the photo someone in the crowd of civilians watching the fight had taken of them. “Oh, that’s-” he cuts himself off for a minute, leaning back to eye Shoto’s face while on the other side of the phone Izuku smothers what is probably a laugh, and then changes tracks.

“It’s super manly to love and support your friends,” Kirishima tells Shoto haughtily, as if this whole thing isn't his fault in the first place.

or: Kirishima and Shoto accidentally start trending on Twitter and in retaliation Shoto decides to make an Instagram to showcase all his Hero Deku merchandise, so that everyone knows how much he loves his boyfriend Izuku, and no one expects how quickly it will all spiral out from there

[my bookmarks: broke my heart. i teared up multiple times and even now I'm barely holding back tears.

pure beauty. pulls an incredible amount of emotion from the descriptive language and conveys the love and loneliness and that pulsing ache so well that i thought that my chest would cave in from the force of all the fucking feelings in it. this entire fic was a perfect, awe-inspiring package of fluff, beautiful shoto and class 1a interaction, heartfelt long distance tododeku feels, and almost every single paragraph had my heart fucking squeezing so hard in my chest that i could barely breathe.

i am in awe.]

Hooliganisms by aphrodaisyacs

(bnha; gen/todofam; crack/humor; 17k words; series; social media)

In which an anonymous artist’s street art of Bald Endeavor goes viral, causing a chain of coincidental events and ironic situations to ripple through the lives of everyone- heroes, villains and civilians alike.

[my bookmarks: i'm crying so much from laughter]

Part 1: Where it all begins- the origins of the street artist known as the "Bald Hooligan" and their rise to infamy

Part 2: The spin-off focusing on the unlikely trio whose friendship was borne from the events of Part 1

Daydreaming by AnonymousTwit

(bnha; gen/todobakudeku; angst; 7k words; oneshot; todoroki-centric)

If he'd been more careful, then they'd be fine. If he'd been paying attention, then he wouldn't be alone right now.

But he wasn't and he hadn't, so it's just him, now. It's him, his thoughts, and the unconscious bodies of two of his closest friends as he waits for someone to reach them.

Whether they be friendly or not.

Author has writer's block and coughed up some Todoroki angst in retaliation.

A Study in Firsts by Oceanbreeze7

(bnha; gen; angst + fluff + humor; 76k words; ongoing; class 1a-centric)

There’s a first time for everything.

The first time everyone crammed in Momo’s room to study, a mess of limbs and books on her bed.

The first time Mina burned crepes so badly the smoke alarm went off.

The first time a jumpscare got Sero so badly, he flipped off the back of the couch.

The first time Uraraka fell asleep at the table and accidentally sent it floating.

The first time someone realized Todoroki walked far too quietly, and far too cautiously around the dorms to be normal.

The first time Midoriya broke his toe on a door frame and kept walking through it.

The first time Kirishima woke up screaming through the walls.

The first time Tsuyu blanched at the sight of a needle.

The first time Bakugo dropped, clutching the back of his neck with eyes scarily vacant and detonating everything around him until Aizawa had to intervene.

It wasn’t always pretty, but the dorms were filled with firsts.

Responsibility by deafmic

(bnha; gen; angst + hurt/comfort; 94k words; series (complete); todoroki-centric; dadzawa + papamic)

“I told you outside,” Aizawa chooses his words carefully, reiterating the same point he’s made before. “My responsibility for you doesn’t end at the classroom. Every part of your life is partially my responsibility. Your father doesn’t scare or intimidate me. If you need help, I can get it for you, but you and I both know that you need to ask for it first.”

Aizawa organizes a way for the students to go home for the holidays. Todoroki Shouto, however, gets left behind by his father. Aizawa, annoyed at Endeavor, takes Shouto under his care for the night, and is joined by a certain Yamada Hizashi.

[my bookmarks: *unholy screaming sobbing noises*

an incredible and emotional journey from start to finish.]

the drip of melting ice by walking_through_autumn

(bnha; gen/platonic shintodo; angst + fluff; 19k words; oneshot; todoroki/shinsou-centric ft. dadzawa)

Aizawa found out within a day. It was quite likely due to the dish Todoroki had washed and left to dry in the shared kitchen after the kitten had been fed off it. Hitoshi was forced to reflect that it wasn’t any good hiding the litter and cat food in their wardrobes if Todoroki was going to make a fundamental mistake like that.

Aizawa stood in his door frame and raised an eyebrow. “Well? Where is the cat?”

Hitoshi gave his most disarming smile. “What cat?”

Todoroki chose that moment to exit his room, eyes on his phone, other hand holding a cat toy. He bumped into Aizawa and looked up slowly, like in a horror movie.

“...oh,” Todoroki said. Aizawa raised the other eyebrow. Hitoshi rubbed a hand down his face.

Herbal tea, weekly floor gatherings, spoiled surprises, movie marathons, shared custody over a cat, rain and ice and blankets and plushies, and the journey of falling into a friendship.

(Or: Hitoshi moves into the 2A dormitory at the beginning of his second year, learns who his neighbour is, and makes the friends he had declared he isn't there to have within the space of a semester.)

Hand in Hand in Hand by kngsbrg (Citlalcoatl)

(bnha; todobakudeku; fluff + strangers to lovers; 10k words; oneshot; tea au)

Boiling the water, choosing the right temperature for the right kind of tea, using quality leaves, scooping the precise amount, and letting it steep for just the perfect time...

All that and more is needed to make a delicious cup of tea.

A business that Shouto was quite knowledgeable about.

Spring begins and brings with it the hint of new fresh air, buds waiting to blossom, and just a bit of change.

[my bookmarks: featuring: oblivious teamaker shoto and pining firemen baku and izu]

even if i die (it's you) by monomoon

(bnha; todobaku; fluff + angst + strangers to lovers; 75k words; complete; paramedic au)

Or; where Todoroki never went to UA and, in rejection of his father's ambitions, became a paramedic; and where pro hero Bakugou Katsuki is just a little bit too intrigued with the heterochromatic man who always glares daggers at him whenever he sees him.

When Bakugou was suddenly and abruptly met with two cold, heterochromatic eyes glaring daggers right back at him, he had two immediate thoughts:

"Why does he look like he's plotting my assassination?"

and

"Why the fuck are his eyes so pretty?"

[my bookmarks: UGH THIS IS JUST FUCKING PHENOMENAL- GORGEOUS LOVELY INCREDIBLE HEARTSTOPPING HEARTBREAKING BEAUTIFUL RIDICULOUSLY GOOD POIGNANT I AM RUNNING OUT OF ADJECTIVES BUT IT'S GREAT TRUST ME AKDHJSFNW]

This Is Now by colormesherlocked

(bnha; gen; angst + hurt/comfort + fluff; 193k words; series (ongoing); todoroki-centric)

Todoroki Shoto will be a hero.

...But not just yet. Right now, Todoroki Shoto is a bitter, pessimistic, hurt teenager who doesn't want help, friends or hinderances of any kind getting in the way of his misguided goals.

Thankfully, there will soon be people in his life who will be more than happy to drag him into a place of happiness, safety, and acceptance - kicking and screaming the whole way, if they have to. All he has to do is survive his first meeting with them and all the incredible changes that will come after.

This is Todoroki Shoto's Hero Academia.

(Semi-canon compliant up to a point and told from Todoroki Shoto's POV.)

the league of anti-villains by aizawa_wears_crocs (avenris), avenris

(bnha; gen; angst + fluff + humor; 35k words; ongoing; todobakushinmono-centric)

When he's secretly tasked to find the UA traitor, Todoroki isn't expecting help. He's especially not expecting it from the three other first year students perceived as villainous in their own ways. Unfortunately for him, Shinsou, Monoma and Bakugou have all got something to prove, and his solo mission turns into a team effort that rapidly spirals far beyond what they were expecting to find - but hey, they're in too deep now.

Or: in which the gang solves the mystery of the traitor feat. todoroki family shenanigans, copious amounts of dadzawa, backstory for my favorite 1-B gremlin, and good old-fashioned illegal vigilantism.

such eloquent graffiti by firelilyblooms

(bnha; todobaku; angst + hurt/comfort; 9k words; oneshot; todoroki-centric; future fic)

Todoroki Shouto is sitting cross-legged at his coffee table, hunched over a bowl of instant ramen, when he finds out along with the rest of the world that the Flame Hero, Endeavor, is dead.

Or, Shouto's guide to dealing with death.

[my bookmarks: i am in ✨pain✨:)]

Tell-All by HopeNight

(bnha; todofam; angst; 4k words; oneshot; todofam/natsuo-centric)

When Natsuo is twenty-years-old, he publishes a tell-all book on his father and growing up in his house. This starts a domino effect, of course. With the book comes an investigation and sets the groundwork for the Hawks scandal in several years’ time that will see the disbandment of the Heroic Public Safety Commission and the ascension of pro hero Deku to the Number One slot. This will also lead to a decades long chain of change and progress with Deku wielding his influence and charisma like a sword and shield to make society and the world a little better than when he found it.

In essence, you can say, that Todoroki Natsuo is the true hero of this story with his fake quirk and an anger burning in his gut. Just one small book and suddenly…everything changes. The future is brighter for its existence. The curtains are thrown back and the light begins its work to disinfect and cleanse.

When Todoroki Shouto is in his second year of UA, his brother, Natsuo, publishes a tell-all book of essays about growing up in Endeavor's house.

This is Natsuo's story about how he really changed the path of things.

like an open wound by filzmonster

(bnha; gen; angst + hurt/comfort; 5k words; oneshot; todoroki-centric; manga spoilers)

It's a Sunday and Shouto is making gyoza in the dorm kitchen - or: It's a Sunday and Todoroki has an existential crisis over food.

[my bookmarks: oh my GODDDDDDDDD

*screeches while crying**is a blubbering mess*]

Shouto Todoroki and His Stuffed Eeyore (And Also Childhood Trauma) by ThatSpicySeaFlapFlap

(bnha; gen; angst + MORE ANGST; 42k words; complete; todoroki-centric)

Aizawa looked him in the eye, placed a gentle hand around his bicep (not like Endeavor, his father had only ever touched him with the intention to burn) and asked, “Are you okay?”

People don’t usually ask him things. They like to tell him things, like where to sit or what to wear or how to talk or how to be a hero or how to be himself.

‘Am I okay?’ He thought. He realized he doesn’t ask himself things, either.

Shouto didn’t have an answer to Aizawa’s question, so instead he said:

“A very long time ago, my mother did something....highly upsetting.” The boy was tracing the outline of his scar, his calloused finger stopping and jumping around the bumps and ridges of the burnt skin. “Something today reminded me of that.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” His teacher asked.

“No.”

“Okay. I’m here when you do. I’m always here, kid.” Shouto only responded with a sob. He felt as if he’d earned that right after all the emotional labor he had been put through tonight.

days by chibistarlyte

(bnha; todobaku; angst + hurt/comfort; 19k words; series (complete); todoroki-centric)

Most days, Shouto is fine.

But some days...

Some days, Shouto falls apart.

Location Sent by sunflowerstorm

(bnha; gen; angst + hurt/comfort; 15k words; oneshot; todoroki-centric; third year 1a)

In their first year at UA Midoriya sent his location to the class 1-A group chat during the Hosu incident because he didn't have time to do anything else before rushing to Iida's aid.

Now in their second year, Todoroki sends his location to the group chat at 6:30am on a Saturday morning after going home for the weekend. Midoriya knows immediately that something is very wrong and takes off, Bakugo hot on his heels.

-----

"They’d known each other long enough to be able to communicate practically wordlessly. The quiet rage on Midoriya's face was extremely telling, this was bad. Bakugo braced himself as Midoriya shuffled to the side to show where his hands were hovering over what was most certainly a burn and a serious one at that. Todoroki’s own fire didn’t burn him but they all knew that didn’t make him fire proof. Bakugo could do the math."

Faith by phinnium

(bnha; gen; angst + hurt/comfort; 7k words; oneshot; todoroki-centric; manga spoilers)

"You wanted to open a case?"

Aizawa frowned, "uh, yeah. Someone showed you Dabi's video, didn't they? And I don't doubt Todoroki himself has told you bits and pieces."

Izuku did not expect this to be how the conversation went.

"Yeah. But Todoroki isn't being hurt now. He's fine. Endeavour's changed."

Or: Midoriya trusts the Hero Commission far more than he should, especially given the situation at hand. Todoroki isn't available to explain what's what, so Aizawa and Bakugou do it instead.

(Written after the release of issue 293 of the manga, and in the aftermath of the current arc. Spoilers ahead.)

Incendiary by macrauchenia

(bnha; gen; angst + hurt/comfort; 17k words; ongoing (hiatus?); todoroki-centric)

"You're going to die, little Todoroki. And if you don't, your classmates will instead."

A training exercise backfires when Izuku and Todoroki become tangled in an escaped villain's vendetta against Endeavor. Alone in a perilous situation due to the villain's barrier quirk, Todoroki must take desperate and creative measures to save his classmates.

[Class 1-A Teamwork/Bonding]

Parallax by petrichor (findingkairos)

(bnha; gen; angst + hurt/comfort + fluff; 64k words; ongoing; todoroki-centric)

Todoroki Shouto has memories that he didn't make on his own, motor skills that his brain doesn't know how to parse, and a love of science and mathematics and physics that means he broke down his Quirk into its most intricate, universe-bending components at the age of seven.

In one universe, he wants to become a hero. In this one, even though he doesn't want to, he might have to.

(Featuring: a rapidly developing Shoutosquad, Quirk science, headcanons of all flavors, healthy and supportive sibling and sibling-like relationships, and Dadzawa.)

[notes: one of my current favorite fics that i’m eagerly following for the next update. :D]

Caturdays by staqua (aka my fav todobaku author)

(bnha; todobaku; fluff + angst + enemies to lovers; 10k words; oneshot)

"Hmm... It's lunchtime now isn't it? You should have lunch with him."

"With Bakugou?" He blanched. "I think he would refuse and then murder me."

Rei chuckled softly as if death was a joke and held his hand tenderly. "If he's in the hospital, someone he cares about must not be well. I think anyone going through that should have a nice meal with good company."

"You overestimate me," Shouto pointed out and she gave another laugh.

OR: Shouto's usual Saturdays included visits to his mother and the cat cafe; he wasn't expecting Bakugou to get thrown in the mix.

voltron: legendary defender:

*hacks twitter in space* by Zakyuu

(vld x marvel; gen/klance; crack/humor + fluff; 17k words; social media au; ongoing)

the voltron paladins arent as popular as the avengers, obviously — in fact, no one even knows they exist. but they still radiate the same kind of dumb gay energy like the rest of the world.

or: pidge somehow manages to connect voltron's communicators onto earth and virtually nothing is the same. voltron also collectively makes everyone lose their marbles while they play hot potato with the fact that theyre in a ten thousand year war with the galra.

the fear of falling by amillionsmiles

(vld; gen; angst + fluff; character study; 3k words; oneshot; keith-centric)

Keith can pull off a downward spiral. It's the kind of maneuver he does in his sleep.

[my bookmarks: stunning. beautiful. breathtaking. poignant.]

Recoil/Release by Cheshyr

(vld; gen; angst + hurt/comfort; 22k words; oneshot; keith-centric)

When Keith is bitten by an alien creature with venom that causes your dominant emotions to be amplified, the team is ready for a day of dealing with an incredibly angry paladin.

Which means they're not ready at all for what actually happens.

hound by story_monger

(vld; gen; angst + hurt/comfort; 47k words; oneshot; keith-centric)

Keith has a lot of practice being alone; you might almost say he's good at it. When he finds himself seriously injured and stranded on an unknown planet, he knows he's not alone there. And here's the worst part: even after rescue and after things return to normal, Keith gets the distinct sense that whatever was on that planet has followed him. He doesn't have proof. But he knows it's there. He knows it's not going to stop until it gets what it wants.

Keith's 'Physical Contact' Initiation Program by alisayamin (sh_04e)

(vld; gen; fluff+ angst + hurt/comfort; 26k words; oneshot; keith-centric)

Keith didn’t move and neither did Pidge. It was a little awkward until Keith finally said, “Maybe we could officially officiate this..?”

“What do you mean?”

“Fist me.”

Pidge recoiled and sputtered, “Keith, what the f-” She was cut off by Shiro’s bellowing laughter from the observatory deck.

With his straight face unchanged, Keith lowered his left hand with the stopwatch and lifted his right hand, fisted.

Pidge actually sighed with so much relief, “OH. You mean fistbump! Right.” She slapped her forehead to remove the very very wrong image her imagination drew for her, “Holy shit, Keith, we need to work on that but yeah sure, I’d be honoured to officiate your physical contact program whatever.”

That one time Coran realized Keith was too distant and decided to make him undergo the 'Physical Contact' Initiation Program which then led to --> 5 times the paladins realized Keith was an actual cat.

The Red String by Le_Tournesol

(vld; gen/klance; angst + fluff; 19k words; series (ongoing); keith-centric; pre-voltron au)

Lance and Keith keep coming across one another at different points in their lives.

[my bookmarks: this is so sad and sweet and lovely]

All that is gold does not glitter by Rangergirl3

(vld; gen; angst + fluff + hurt/comfort; 28k words; complete; keith-centric)

Keith isn't what most would call a 'people' person, but that doesn't stop him from caring about his team.

aka

Five Times the other Paladins learned something about Keith, and the One Time he learned something about them.

[my bookmarks: fuck. just- fuck.]

Miscommunication Celebration by SleepySsnail

(vld; gen; fluff + hurt/comfort; 4k words; oneshot; keith-centric; birthday fic)

Keith was never too focused on his birthday, but when it rolls around he hopes his team remembers it. When Keith's birthday is full of quality time and fun, he doesn't even question why his friends haven't said "happy birthday" to him.

Or: Where Keith thinks everyone is celebrating his birthday when they really forgot about it.

Keithtober 2019 Day 23: Birthday

avatar: the last airbender:

Change of Address by hearmerory

(atla; gen/zukka; ANGST + fluff + hurt/comfort; 89k words; series (ongoing); zuko-centric; modern au)

A collection of instances in a modern AU of Zuko's shitty childhood, featuring Ozai's dislike of his son's autism and sexuality.

[my bookmarks: FUCK F U C K WHAT THE ACTUAL F U C K.

I CAN'T WITH THIS ANYMORE.]

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