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throughtrialbyfire · 9 months

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𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐖𝐈𝐏 𝐖𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬 ♥

you already know what time it is!!

thank you to the lovely and incredibly talented @skyrim-forever @your-talos-is-problematic @v1ctory-or-sovngarde @mareenavee @thequeenofthewinter and @dirty-bosmer for the tags this week!! i've been having an amazing time reading/looking at all your wips, and i know i say it always but i can't wait to see how your works turn out, whether writing or art!! wednesday has easily become my favorite day of the week bc of this community <3

i'm passing the tag to @umbracirrus @wispstalk @kiir-do-faal-rahhe @orfeoarte @caliblorn @thana-topsy @totally-not-deacon @aphocryphas @gilgamish and YOU! if you wanna hop in, tag me back, and no pressure as always!!

this week i've got a bit of a treat: i'm working on some art! it's one that's really pushing me out of my comfort zone in terms of pose, expression, and perspective, and i'm extremely excited to finish it and show what i've been up to! featuring the beloved Cicero, of course

aaaaaaaand since i posted chapter 14 of Cycle of the Serpent this past weekend, i'm gonna give you guys a long snippet of chapter 23. >:3c emeros is asking for the group's imperial pardon from general tullius, and it comes with a catch. fair warning, the snippet is LONG bc i am incapable of being normal about this fic. are you ready, because i sure fucking am

Emeros stifled a scoff. Athenath did not. Instead, the Altmer made a step forward, the Bosmer eyeing him with a quirked brow. The bard said, "we helped Hadvar, he said he'd help us out if we needed it." "Precisely." Emeros leveled. "In fact, he said that should we wish to acquire an Imperial pardon, to come directly to you, General Tullius." He lowered his brow. The General waited, shifting from foot to foot as he considered this, before waving an enormous hand and resting it again on the table, facing the map sprawled before him. Wooden pegs painted in red and blues littered various points, stuck in deep with metal ends. The light landed along the metal gleam of his armor, golden color running rotten in the days glare. "You know, not many survived that place. If you could give us a hand, Legate Rikke-" he motioned to the woman beside him, stray hairs catching the light, "-could have some use for you. Besides, I'm sure your being imprisoned was all a big misunderstanding." Wyndrelis cleared his throat and looked up at the Bosmer, already making a slow, calculated stride to the General, his teeth grit together. With a deep inhale, he spoke, ignoring the light twitch of his under eye, the pittering in his chest. "General, I do not wish to waste your time, nor do I believe mine is of any less value," he began, "however, my compatriots and I have come a long way to be here. Not to mention, the scene we witnessed in your town square-" "Roggvir, the traitor," Tullius scoffed, shaking his head, disbelief clearly running courses through him, "he opened the gate for Ulfric Stormcloak after he murdered High King Torygg-" "And started this bloody Civil War proper, yes, I'm well aware of the stories, sir." Emeros interrupted in a bored drone, his wrist making idle motions. General Tullius craned his neck to peer back at Emeros, one wrinkled brow raised. His face had the character of a man well beyond the usual glory days of a soldier, a war and weather-battered face, with the scarred and sun-roughened arms to match. He was no man to be trifled with in the slightest, and yet (despite the atrocious nerves burdening his every action, the weight of every word weighed heavy on the blade the General carried to cut out sharp-tongues like his) the alchemist bothered not with patience nor obedience here. Instead, the Bosmer lifted his chin, his posture taking all the hallmarks of Aldmeri society, his arms straight at his sides, his spine taut, his eyes skimming the face of the Imperial like a bird to a field mouse among the brush. "We are here for our pardon. Nothing more."

General Tullius turned again to face the Bosmer. "And we're low on men. Our ranks are thin enough as is. If you want your pardon, you'll have to earn it." He made no motion, no step, nothing to indicate intimidation, but the bead of sweat down the back of his neck brandished his demeanor, the stress he was under already. In the shadows, Emeros observed the bruise-dark circles forming under the man's eyes over the past few weeks of sleepless nights, the kind he'd seen on many an Imperial soldier returning to Cyrodiil from the front lines in the Great War. He'd been younger then, thought nothing of the bloodshed. But here? He saw the thirty years aftermath and the absurdity of the Civil War plain and simple.

"Then I believe we are at an impasse." Emeros simply turned on his heel and began the walk down the antechamber, guards unsure whether to apprehend the Bosmer or allow him to step away. General Tullius watched in disbelief, and as the doors parted, gave a great sigh.

"Wait, now."

Emeros stood on the precipice, light filtering in, casting his shadow long behind him. He turned. "Yes, sir?"

"I understand the urgency of your request, elf-"

"Emeros Nightlock."

General Tullius sighed again. "I understand the urgency of your request, mister Nightlock, but I can't grant something like that on a whim. I need to know you're not here to cause trouble. I know your winding up on the Helgen prison cart was probably just a misunderstanding, as well as these…" he gestured vaguely to Athenath and Wyndrelis, who were halfway through the antechamber and to their friends side when he'd turned back at the General's request, "…fine young people. But until I can verify that you've no intentions to make me regret that decision…"

"Ah," Emeros ticked, "a deed for a deed." He shut the doors, and made a solid march back to the war room as though nothing had happened. "Really, General, I would prefer if you had said so in the first place."

General Tullius inhaled deeply through his nose, leveling out whatever turmoil brewed behind his cold exterior. He made a motion to the Nord, Legate Rikke, who watched the trio with bewildered amusement. "You will speak to the Legate here, and do what she asks. Only then, can I grant your pardon."

"Thank you for your time, General Tullius." Emeros approached the Legate with a polite smile, the kind that barely graced his eyes, and spoke again. "What can we do for you, Legate Rikke?"

The Legate, her eyes keenly examining the three before her, barely tamped down the burgeoning smirk on her lips. "You three survived Helgen?" She shifted her light-hued gaze between their faces. Wyndrelis' nervous fidgeting, Athenath's fingers combing through his dark curls, and Emeros' cold expression, his posture high and solid - he silently hoped the shaking palms eluded her. "Not many made it out alive, you know. I've got a good feeling about you three, and I don't often get good feelings about anything. A warrior knows to trust her gut."

"Legate Rikke, I appreciate the sentiment deeply, but I would like to know what it is you're expecting us to… Do, exactly." Emeros watched the Legate as she lifted her brow, internally mulling something over before she spoke up again.

"You know, bravado gets soldiers killed."

"Fascinating. I will note that down for any soldiers I may meet."

"Emeros," Athenath hissed quietly, tugging his arm. The Bosmer seemed to come back to the room around him, as though he had been operating in some sort of pre-determined mode, a Dwemer automata wound up and gaining sentience. For a moment, his eyes flashed cold-sweat panic to the Altmer, then narrowed sternly. He returned his gaze to the Legate.

"Well," Legate Rikke breathed, sliding a palm over the map before her, "I'm sending you to clear out Fort Hraagstad. If you survive, you'll pass. If you die, then I'll have no further use for your corpses."

An icy fear grasped the trio, but Emeros merely cleared his throat and spoke again. "What is the purpose of this assignment?"

"The ancients built many of the fortresses that dot the landscape of Skyrim. Sadly, most have fallen into disrepair. And nearly all have been overrun with bandits or other vagabonds. Fort Hraagstad is one of the few that remains mostly intact. We're going to install a garrison there, but first, you three are going to clean out the bandits that have moved in."

"Mark it on our map, and we'll be off by morning." Emeros made a gesture behind himself, Wyndrelis fumbling with the map he tugged from his pocket, passing it to the Bosmer. He allowed Legate Rikke to make scratches along the surface with a quill, easy lines detailing the best path up to the fort, her face stern as she passed it back over to him.

"Good luck."

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smallraindrops-blog · 10 days

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The Eros of May

WMFTD!Y/N x Hypnos

(Day 18)

Wordcount: 660

Summary: Told in snapshots. There is a beautiful man with sleepy golden eyes, warm skin kissed by the sun and the lingering days of spring.

Warnings: no beta, parents embarrassing their only child.

notes: a writing challenge for myself, I took two different challenges and mashed them together. Credit to this post and this post and their creator for making these challenges.

To find the rest, use ‘The eros of may’ tag please.

Tree house

The ocean was inky black as it washed up your feet, cool as the night itself.

Despite the jet lag, sleep didn’t come to you. The quietness of the ‘Lake House’ was too quiet, too empty when you were used to the noise of a city, of people around you.

The paleness of the sand gleamed like stars under the moonlight, and it felt like you were walking on stars. You took another step in, the foam clinging to the tiny shells around your feet.

You sensed rather than heard that someone was approaching and twisted around to look. Hypnos lifted his hand up in a lazy wave, the line of an elegant collar bone exposed by a too big shirt.

“You should be careful.” Hypnos said, stopping short of the water. The wave rushed onto the land, as if trying to reach for him as well. He gave you a little smile.

“Because I could drown?”

“No- well. Yes that too. But really, Greek waters have all kinds of unusual creatures lurking around.” Hypnos winked at you, rocking on his feet. “Like you never know if a siren is hiding under those waves, looking for a snack.”

Unfortunately for me, The only siren around here is already on land. you thought as you took a step back out. Golden eyes drifted past you and toward the water. You took a moment to look at him.

Greedily so.

Because it's only been a day or so but for all the beautifully made people in New York, you have never seen someone like Hypnos.

Hypnos was a study in contrast of cools and warms, of sharp lines and rounded out softness. His golden eyes and sweet brown skin that soak in light spoke of the sun. But it was the dreamy, far look in his eyes, the whiteness of his curls that brought the thought of moonlight.

“You know, I would have given anything for a treehouse when I was a kid.” Hypnos said abruptly, “What about you?”

You blinked at the subject. “Ah. No. I used to beg my parents for a motorcycle though.”

Hypnos smiled at that. “I can see you riding a bike. Did you ever get one?”

You shook your head. You almost did, when you were eighteen and running purely on the unique hormonal cocktail of total immortality and stupidity that only teenage boys had. Your dad had sat you down one day after looking at motorcycles together and quietly begged for you not to.

”It would have broken Pa’s heart. He is a nurse and has seen some ugly shit.” You explained.

Hypnos tilted his head thoughtfully. “Oh yeah, real bad stuff I bet.”

A moment of quiet, with only the waves moved in their steady rhythm, uncaring of the two humans before it. Hypnos tucked a stray curl behind his ear, bitting down on his lip.

“Did you ever get that treehouse?” You smiled down at him.

That made him smiled in return. “No. Maybe someday. And I can just call it ‘house’.”

You chuckled, a strange warmth fluttered in your core. Another beat of quiet. Then it was Hypnos who spoke up first, sweetly nervous.

“Do- do you wanna hear that story about my mom and that phone psychic?” He nodded toward the ‘lake house’.

Maybe you should say ‘no’, try to get some sleep but right now, there nothing more in the whole world you wanted than to keep talking to this wonderfully strange man.

“Yeah, I do. Did your mom really call her?”

Hypnos lit up, his smile so perfect that a knot formed in your throat. “And way more. Come on, follow me and I will tell you all about it.”

You did follow him all the way up, leaving two trails of footsteps among the sand.

#wake me from this dreaming #hypnos x male!reader #The Eros of May

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allyouneedisbuck · 3 years

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Saturday Sun I

Summary: it’s the beginning of may. mother’s day has come and gone, with your family trip coming up and things are seemingly falling apart even more. you and harry are forced to come head to head with real issues. (harry x fem!reader)

Word Count: 1.3K (second part will be the longer piece)

Warnings: Angst. Cheating. Find all in depth warnings in the first two parts.

Notes: hello, part three is divided into two parts, this first one focusing on some conflict & the second part to it will focus more on family dynamic & light resolution. part of this piece has harry’s pov instead of entirely the readers.

Part One & Two (along with a companion piece) can be found in my h.s masterlist!

i need to ask her

what’s going on?

are we going strong?

May - Part I

It’s the Monday before your flight.

April had come and April had gone and you were still struggling to focus on anything but your kids and issues with Harry. You suppose that’s okay, your next deadline was months away and with the trip coming up all you could focus on were those things.

Mother’s Day had slipped your mind completely. You were busy making lists and triple checking flight info to even think of asking the kids and Harry about their plans.

“How was your weekend? Everything went well?” Dr. Walsh’s voice forces you to look up from the new watch that adorns your wrist.

You glance at Harry, who waits for you to answer. You shrug. “It was nice… Harry and the kids treated me yesterday.”

The watch is a beautiful rose gold color and is a thin band compared to the band of your last watch. Your kids initials had been engraved onto the inner band. It was, by all means, a lovely and well thought out gift. Not only replacing the watch you had worn for a decade and had finally snapped, but reminding of the best parts of your life.

“Tell me about your day!” Dr. Walsh smiles kindly. Her eyes move between you and Harry, polite and u judging, before landing on your wrist.

“I got breakfast, at the table, breakfast in bed is too hectic with three kids and a baby.” You laugh softly, thinking of the kids and their not well hidden excitement for your day. “And they all got me gifts. The twins made clay handprints in school. Seph picked out a new wallet for me and even bought it on her own!”

It’s impossible to contain your happiness that rolls off of you when you talk about the kids. Bragging about their thoughtfulness and kind gifts makes you almost forget where you are.

“That sounds so lovely.” Dr. Walsh brings you back down. Your eyes move to Harry. His eyes are open and he’s smiling softly as you speak. But his fingers are fidgeting in his lap and you know he had hoped you would be proud of his gift too.

And you were. But maybe that was the worst part. That it was kind hearted and well thought out and so very Harry that you almost hated it. You hated how one small gift had caused a sliver of hope to crawl into your bloodstream and make your heart race for him again.

That it made you believe, for one brief moment, all his promises and words about never falling out of love with you and never wanting to let you go.

“Harry got me a watch too.” You finally say, quiet and full of despair. “Mine snapped a few weeks ago… It has the kids initials in it. It was a good day.”

Dr. Walsh nods. “It’s a lovely watch.” Her eyes move pointedly from it on your wrist to you. “So what’s wrong?”

You fiddle with it, twisting it on your wrist and tapping the face anxiously. “It feels tainted.” You steadily avoid looking at Harry as you say the words. Dr. Walsh nods, but doesn’t say anything, silently urging you to continue. “I love it. And that… makes me feel guilty. And it makes me feel dumb because one stupid gift made me forget this bullshit for a second and I just felt that love for him again.”

There’s an intake of breath to your right, but Dr. Walsh doesn’t look at all shocked by your words. “It makes sense. You want to be angry. You have a right to be angry and when something gets in the way of that, you’re unsure of how to feel.”

You nod. Her words make sense. You did want to be angry and after your brief elation with the gift you found you still were.

“I am going to feel like this for the rest of my life?” You whisper.

She shakes her head. “No. One day, this anger will be gone. But… it’s up to you whether or not you can get there with each other. If you can forgive Harry and let go of the anger. Or not. Neither is wrong.”

You nod. Sometimes these sessions felt like she was strictly talking to you. Harry just listened. Spoke up when you asked him to, or when Dr. Walsh worked on exercises.

A part of you found that it helped. You were able to say things you may not have ever said to Harry. But sometimes it felt like he was unsure if he should try and that made you angrier.

Harry’s hopes are built up and shattered. It’s his own fault, he knows it is. Knows that this was an easily fixable marriage before he fucked up.

You’ve talked about the cheating a little in therapy. Dr. Walsh has mentioned it, you’ve let your anger out, Harry has apologized. It’s a cycle that seems never ending. He doesn’t know what to do. All he wants so desperately is to fucking fix it.

But...

The drive has been silent. You stare out the window at cars and buildings that pass. There are bags in the truck rustling around, a last minute stop for last minute items needed for the trip.

You had been silent in the store too. Quietly checking off your list as Harry pushed the cart behind you. Had his gift upset you this much? You still loving him made you this angry?

“I… I don’t know what to do.” Harry finally says, forcing his voice to cut through the silence. You startle and turn to look at him. “Tell me what to do.” He pleads.

He knows you can hear the desperation in his voice. Whether or not you were angry at him, you knew him, you knew his tells and his emotions.

“What do you want me to say, H?” Your voice is a whisper but still harsh. “I don’t know! I don’t know what you can do! Build a time machine. Don’t cheat on me.”

“It feels like we’re going in circles.” Harry tries to keep his calm. He wants to keep the anxiety and hurt out of his voice. “Like, you’re angry then you see this chance and there’s hope, then there’s anger again.”

You scoff. “I’m sorry my pain isn’t linear enough for you! I’m sorry that sometimes I see glimpses of you and I’m reminded of us ten years ago, so in love and oblivious to the outside world. Sorry that it all comes crashing down when I remember that you fucking cheated on me!”

Harry sighs and his grip on the steering wheel tightens. “I fucked up so bad. I know. I know. God, what can I do? Anything.”

“Why did you do it?” You ask instead of answering. There’s a coldness in your words and Harry’s aware you’re both trapped in the car for another twenty minutes. So are you, apparently. “And don’t give me the same bullshit about being selfish and not knowing why and it being a mistake.”

Harry feels desperation claw at his throat and tears burning in the corner of his eyes. It’s like he can’t breathe, trapped in a coffin of your anger and his guilt. He tries to keep his eyes focused on the road as he talks. “I… I felt wanted. I liked the attention.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath, but Harry keeps his face forward and eyes focused. “Tell me what happened.”

“Y/N…” Harry trails off. “I… I can’t.”

You groan and fall forward with your head in your hands. “I need to know, H. I don’t… I just need to know because all I can think about is these what if situations and scenarios in my head. And I’ll just keep running through them until I hate you.”

Harry bites down on his lip and spares a glance at you. “What if… What if I tell you and you hate me anyways?” The question is unfair. He knows it is. But he can’t fathom a world without you in it. A world where he sees you on drop off days and has to plan separate holidays.

“I don’t know.” You say quietly. But, it feels like answer enough. There’s no reason for you not to leave.

And Harry guesses a promise to try was never really a promise to stay.

notes: thank you for the patience! i understand this piece is short, this part has been a lil tricky and i wanted to get the first part to may out before summer courses begun. i’m hoping i’m able to continue writing through them, but i will warn readers i am enrolled in two of the three week classes that have a lot of work and move quickly. so patience will be appreciated. i hope everyone is safe & healthy and has a wonderful end of school/university/spring! and congratulations to all the grads these next two months. i’m planning on ending this series with a total of five parts (march, april, may, june, july) w/ two endings.

tags (im tagging a couple ppl who messaged me awhile ago (after the last part), if u dont wanna be tagged anymore let me know! sorry!@alwaysclassyeagle @yourgoldengirls

if u wanna be tagged just message me & let me know if u want it for just this series or for all my h writing! ❤️

#harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles #harry styles writing

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kafka-ish · 4 years

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coward | s.u.

y/n, bold and beautiful, is now second guessing herself when she finds herself skinny dipping with stan uris

word count: 2.5k

warnings/included: fluff, steamy-ish, exhibitionism, fem!reader

request: (from anon) “could i have a request where the reader is v v v flirty with stan and one day he says something really dirty even richie's shocked. it’s fine if not.”

a/n: i accidentally changed it bc i misread ur request im so so sorry !!! also if u noticed i haven’t written in awhile it’s bc my classes started up again so fics may take more time to write/post -- hope u understand <3

What came out of y/n’s mouth next truly shocked Stanley.

“Wanna go skinny dipping?” It wasn’t far off from whatever usually spewed from her mouth that she and the rest of the Losers had a hard time controlling.

His mind flashed to all the times y/n’s hand grazed his: the light touches, the silent stares, the whispers that tickled his ears and kissed his brain.

“Next year for Halloween, you should be Stan without a shirt.”

The hearts she drew on his notebook when he wasn’t looking, the hand she held in hers, the what-are-we’s before giggling in his wonderstruck face that she was joking; it was all a sign of want that he’d been too dense to see before.

“You’re great, you know. Great at being an asshole.”

Sweet, mischievous y/n; always blunt, always careless of what others thought of her. It never occurred to Stan of what she thought of him.

Richie was the first to speak up, Stan still having to catch his breath from the promiscuous words that left her mouth seconds ago. “Sure, toots, I’d love to see what’s under that suit of yours. God, you don’t know how much I hate that thing.” He laughed and Stan wanted to beat the shit-eating grin off his shit-eating friend. His jaw, pronounced and square, tightened and Richie saw. “On second thought, I think someone else would enjoy the view way more.”

Another laugh came from the group, but it wasn’t from Richie. It was y/n’s. The soft giggle leaving her luscious lips did nothing to calm Stan.

“Are you jealous, Stanley?” She asked. A smirk sat on her lips. She only called him by his full name when she teased him.

He definitely felt like he was being thrown a bone only to find out the pitcher never threw one right now.

“Of course not.” Stan gave her the side-eye, readjusting his position from the rock he sat on while doing so. “I can’t think of any situation where I’d be jealous of Richie.”

“Oh yeah?” Richie challenged and Stan squinted at him.

“Yeah.”

“I can think of one—multiple, actually.” Richie wore the same smirk as y/n—only his was less digestible. Maybe it was because y/n was less insufferable to be around, or because she didn’t take a crack at his religion every chance she had, or because her hair was soft and shiny on her head and something Stan wished he could run his hands through. Maybe it was because y/n was a girl, or because she was pretty and the way she batted her eyelashes made him see stars even in the sunlight.

“When?”

Richie leaned in and whispered something that was totally vulgar and jarring to Stan’s ears.

Stan flinched—unsurprised that his friend was ballsy enough to say such a thing, but because what if he had actually thought about doing such a thing?

“Gross, Ruh-Ruh-Richie!” Bill yelled from across the quarry, already knowing what his friend would say.

“Yeah. You’re disgusting,” Eddie said from next to him while he looked up at Bill.

“Ruh-lax. It’s not like it’s something I’m gonna do.” Richie opened a new can of Keystone Light next to his already half-drunken one. “I got freedom of thoughts though, right?” He winked and Ben rolled his eyes.

“If you already have a drink open you should finish it,” Stan instructed, ignoring the subject at hand.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist.” y/n sounded closer than she was before. Her arm brushed up against his and he thought she was about to hold his hand until her fingers grazed just past his to grab his can of beer. She took a sip. “Besides, it all ends up somewhere.”

She could be so careless with her actions. But this was the same girl who made sure paper and plastic went to recycling, the total opposite of Stan, a total enigma.

“I just think, if you want another one, you should finish the one you already have.” Stan explained himself clearly and concisely. It was something y/n always admired. She never got tired of hearing him talk—she could listen to him talk for hours on end.

“Whatever.” Her eyes rolled so far he’d thought they’d get stuck. “I’m going home. “Later, Losers.”

“Wuh-what about the sk-skinny dipping?” Bill asked and Ben elbowed him. He wasn’t yet comfortable in his body, though he had been on Derry High’s track team for a year and a half and lost a fair amount of weight (twenty-two pounds), he still wasn’t comfortable in his own skin (he didn’t think he’d ever be)—even around his best friends—friends he considered family.

“We can do it tomorrow.” y/n shrugged. “Sound good to you, Stanley?” Her eyes were only focused on him and Stan knew that. They glowered under the sun’s harsh rays and fixated on his figure.

“I don’t know.” Stan tried to sound as monotone as possible. “Maybe you should be asking Richie instead.”

At that, y/n smiled, leaving the rest of the group confused as she walked away.

“Duh-dude!” What wuh-was that?” Bill wondered aloud, astounded how y/n had him wrapped around her finger—or maybe it was the other way around.

“If I knew, I would tell you,” Stan said, holding the same shock in his voice.

“Are you and y/n like—”

“No!” The sharpness of Stan’s tongue cut Ben off quickly with a harsh glare he’d later apologize for. But it would be a lie to say that he didn’t want something with y/n. Another lie, that Stan would keep to himself, would be that he didn’t anticipate the events that were to come for tomorrow…

“Hey, stranger!” It was y/n from down below. She was already wading in the water—waiting for him, presumably.

“Hey, y/n/n.” He started for the long way down, not caring to cannon-ball ten feet down from the cliff of the quarry today. “Where’s Bill and Bev and Mike and Ben and—”

“—and Richie?” A beam shot across y/n’s face as soon as Stan met her eye line.

“And Richie,” Stan mumbled. That was the only thing he’d been worried about. Although he knew there was nothing about his trashmouth friend to worry about. But it was always best to stay skeptical.

“I told them not to come.” y/n said this with such nonchalance—such grace as she tilted her head into the water and drifted back, letting the water carry her away as if she were weightless.

“Why,” Stan asked, though it came out as more of a demand.

“Because.” y/n shrugged, but you couldn’t really shrug while you were trying to stay afloat. He noticed that her eyes were closed, and her bathing suit was still on. Maybe she was lying about skinny dipping and he had worked himself up last night over nothing. y/n was like that—making promises she never intended to fulfill. If it weren’t for y/n being, well, y/n, Stan might’ve been annoyed at her antics. But he wasn’t—far from it, even. He was infatuated with her being—clothed or not, enraptured with how sunshine she could be one hour and rain she could be the next.

Math and English were an easy feat—but trying to understand y/n was like trying to learn Mandarin blind and deaf.

Her curves spilled from the bikini bottoms that hugged her butt and the matching top she wore hugged her bust exceptionally. The bikini’s scandalous red color harmonized with y/n’s skin tone well and Stan couldn’t imagine her in anything else at the moment. He didn’t want to imagine her in anything else.

“Are you gonna get in?” Her presence startled him as she was quick to swim up to the rocks. “Or are you scared?” A sly smile splayed across her pink lips and Stan mirrored her.

“I’m scared?” He scoffed. “You were the one who said we were going skinny dipping.” He stripped himself of his shirt, revealing his pale, yet toned, chest. “Guess who’s not undressed.”

“You?” y/n guessed; the innocent tone surprising on her tongue. She had inadvertently licked her lips at the answer and Stan couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her mouth due to the action.

“No. You.”

“My bad.” A giggle escaped her bitten lips and y/n began to unclip the back of her bikini. “Is that better now?” The straps fell loose against her arms, but the top stayed covering her breasts.

Stan didn’t say anything.

“What if I…” y/n didn’t finish her sentence. Silently, she fully removed the straps from her arms and the contraption left her bodice.

“Christ,” Stan seethed out, but he wasn’t gentlemen enough to look away from the sight on display before him: y/n treading the shallow water that was crystal clear thanks to Mr. Sun that shone down on this part of town, giving Stan an eyeful.

“Don’t say his name in vain.” She had now slipped the bottoms off and Stan didn’t know what to do with himself. Get undressed, I guess.

His pants were the next to go as Stanley undid his brown leather belt that held his too-big khaki shorts together. His waistline had shrunk due to baseball season’s quick start. And although it was only early March, the heat had picked up fast in this small town they called home and Stan could feel himself already itching to feel the water on his sweat-stricken skin.

“What are you waiting for?” y/n called from below. She was growing impatient, but who could blame her?

Stan stood above her in only his underwear. If the rest of the student body was here, he would’ve been living out his nightmare—stripped to the bone with an audience to gawk at him. But only y/n was here to witness the grey Calvin Kleins that hugged his thighs and rather than a nightmare, this felt more like a daydream.

“Are you shy?” She teased. “C’mon, Stanny, there’s no need to be—”

“Shy my ass,” Stan interjected as he relieved himself of the last piece of clothing and jumped into the water all in a quick movement.

“Glad you could finally make it, slowpoke.” y/n splashed his face, disregarding his lack of clothes—both of their lack of clothes—but Stan couldn’t help but admire y/n’s skin that the water had already kissed and glowed under the flash of the sun.

He’d never seen her in such a state before. In fact, he’d never intended to. But this was worth it—even if it were the only time, he knew he’d have this memory burned into his skull forever the same way the sun would burn his skin the next day because he forgot to apply sunscreen. Since when does Stanley Uris forget to apply sunscreen?

“It’s rude to stare,” y/n deadpanned, but Stan couldn’t help it. How could he not take his eyes off her tan lines from up close and the divot of her collarbone? The way her hair slicked back from the water and the pout of her lips was all too tempting to not want to consume. Stan Uris would be an idiot to not stare. A polite idiot.

“You make it hard.”

y/n felt her cheeks heat up and she knew she wasn’t sporting a sunburn. y/n never burned. “Oh. Well, in that case, stare as much as you want.”

“Gladly.”

y/n was quiet now—a rare event, but it gave Stan an opportunity he’d never thought he’d get or go for.

He swam closer, the stroke of his arms creating rifts in the water and y/n shivered at the feeling of the coldness that hit her chest each time he got closer.

It was strange seeing him up close—in such an intimate setting. As big of a crush y/n harbored on the boy, it’s not like she did anything about it. A few remarks there, a few remarks there. This was the furthest they’ve ever gotten. Maybe a little too far now that she was considering it more closely. Since when did first base turn into skinny dipping in the quarry?

Before her thoughts could leave her second-guessing anymore, y/n felt her lips on someone else’s. They were pressed together firmly and tightly. She held her breath as if she were underwater, but her heart prevailed, only picking up at a speed she’d only feel when she caught him looking at her or when he laughed at her jokes.

The kiss was powerful and all she needed. If this were the last time they’d ever see each other again, she wouldn’t care, because she’d have that kiss to cherish. Maybe she’d long for one in the future. Just one more. But this kiss left her knowing that this skinny-dipping idea wasn’t so bad after all.

His lips were soft and tickled as he pulled apart to catch a breath. y/n’s eyes opened to find Stan’s pupils were wide and lustblown. She stood still in the water, amazed that anyone could feel that way about her.

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“Hey, Stan—”

“What?” Stan asked, eager and anxious for the words meant for him.

“This is embarrassing but.. I like you.” The words were bold and packed with courage—not far from the regular way y/n spoke, but this was different. It had a certain bite to it that Stan couldn’t quite taste.

“Are you embarrassed because you like me or are you embarrassed because you’re confessing to me without any clothes on?” Before Stan’s eyes could rake down to y/n’s body once more, a splash of water hit his face—cold and abrupt. His eyelids slammed at the impact and he flinched.

“You’re such a perv.” y/n scoffed as if she had forgotten her deepest secret had just spilled from her lips in front of the boy the secret was about. Secret. Don’t act like it wasn’t as obvious as a fat kid scarfing down their third brownie in the first place—

“You know if it’s any more embarrassing… I like you, too,” Stan said. He felt winded after saying it. His chest felt heavy and his toes dug into the sand in order to keep him from falling headfirst into the water. It was so easy for y/n. Brave, crass y/n who swore like a sailor yet had the face of a doll.

Stan’s train of thought was lost at the feeling of y/n’s body pressed against his. He’d forgotten they were both bare-assed and exposed for all of Derry to see because the warmth of y/n was all too much. His heart jumped out of his chest sixty miles a minute and the muscles under his arms were now stones. Stan didn’t recognize that her lips were on his until her tongue swiped his bottom one for access in which he granted.

Teeth clashed and tongues danced. It was a hot minute until y/n pulled away with a cheeky smile and lingering fingers on his collarbone that made Stan hold his breath.

“That was hot,” he heaved, finally cutting the silence between them. Of course, the birds still chirped and the water around them never stopped flowing. But the world just seemed to stop whenever Stan stepped foot into y/n’s intoxicating proximity.

“Hell yeah, it was.” One arm was still strewn around his neck while her free hand traced code on his shoulder.

Nothing else was said. Nothing had to be said. But Stan was sure of one thing; that y/n was no coward.

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matchasprouts · 3 years

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Listen Closer - Chapter 4

[ girl help i can't stop writing this ]

First || Next || Previous || Last

He woke up to someone pounding on the door, which only successfully left a pounding in his head, therefore setting him up to be a little bitch for the rest of the day.

Since he was off on weekends, he usually spent them working on traps, or helping facilitate traps for John. Today was Sunday, which meant he needed to spend the whole day working on the furnace, or it wouldn’t be finished in time, which is probably why someone was banging on his door.

That realization didn’t make him any less pissed.

After a moment of fumbling around blindly without opening his eyes, he grabbed something solid and flung it vaguely at the door. He heard it hit the metal door with a thunk, followed by someone cursing in surprise. Amanda. Of course.

“Sorry ‘Manda!” he tiredly yelled at the door, having expected it to be John or Hoffman. Amanda never woke him up because she never had the courage to- not that he would scare her on purpose.

“I’m gonna get you back one day,” Amanda replied, giving the door one last bang before retreating back to her work.

It took a good few minutes, but Garrett finally rolled directly out of bed, hitting the concrete floor with a groan. After yet another few minutes, he properly got up, finally taking that shower he didn’t have the energy for last night before getting dressed.

Logically he should wear things that would be good to weld in but he was gay, and dressed like it. So he simply pulled up the sleeves on his cropped sweater and prayed to whatever god that would listen that his exposed midriff would not get burned.

He emerged from his room only to retrieve his goggles- which he hadn’t meant to leave out on one of the public tables- before retreating back to his personal workshop.

The furnace was so close to done, really just needing some closed up gaps and other various touch ups, plus he needed to make sure the trigger for the flames worked. He could finish that in a day if he started early enough, so he dove into it.

A few times he could hear the door open and close, either Amanda or Nar coming in to make sure he wasn’t secretly dead or injured. Occasionally they brought him a glass of water too, or tried to have a conversation. They only sometimes got a response.

“How long have you been working?” Narcissus asked, setting a new glass of water on the desk next to where Garrett was sitting. “Have you taken a break in the last hour? You know you can’t work non-stop without a break.”

Garrett knew he wasn’t just going to leave without getting a response this time, so he leaned back from his work and pulled his goggles down so they hung around his neck. “I need to get this done,” he said, gesturing to the furnace, “the game is starting next week. This is like, a huge part. Everyone’s counting on me.”

“Please get therapy for that,” Nar replied, surprising Garrett enough that he let out a sharp laugh, quickly turning away to hide his grin. “Don’t launch into a spiel about how this IS therapy, I get enough of that from Amanda. But seriously, you need to take breaks. If you work yourself to death, you won’t be of use to anybody, least of all John.”

He, unfortunately, had a point. Garrett didn’t like accepting defeat, but he could at least get something to eat. “Alright, fine, but if this is some kind of ploy to get me to interact with people, I’ll lose it.”

Nar chuckled at that, patting Garrett on the shoulder as he headed over to the door. With a sigh, Garrett stood up and followed, making a beeline for where they kept snacks for while they were working. Now that he realized he hadn’t eaten all day, he felt like he was dying.

“So he lives,” Hoffman spoke up, scaring the shit out of Garrett, who hadn’t seen him in his rush to get something to eat. “We were beginning to worry you had gotten hurt in there and were just too prideful to ask for help.”

“I think out of everyone here, I’m the least likely to just die for the sake of my ego,” Garrett retorted, grabbing a mysterious muffin he didn’t know the origin of to be his very late breakfast. Or would it be lunch at this point?

He took a bite into the muffin, letting out a sigh of relief when he didn’t die instantly.

Amanda was known for baking stuff for the apprentices, but she wasn’t very good at it if it wasn’t strawberry shortcake specifically or donuts. Since the muffin wasn’t the worst thing he’d ever bitten into, his second guess was that Nar baked them instead. He tended to be able to bake without accidentally introducing poison to the ingredients list.

“Don’t you have a real job to be at?” Garrett asked, leaning back against the table Hoffman was seated in front of, standing next to him, like an idiot. “You know, pretending to be on the good guy’s side, throwin’ off the trail…”

Hoffman just looked at him like he was insane. “You do realize that detectives don’t spend most of their time in the precinct, right? No one is going to question why I’m not there. They’ll just call me in if they need me.”

Can’t imagine having a job like that. “Right, right. Have y’all ‘found’ Cara’s body yet? I wanna watch when you do.” Through the cameras, of course. Garrett found it amusing to be right next to a police investigation and, since he covered the ‘on’ light on cameras he used, they never knew he was there.

“What?” Hoffman asked after a moment of bewildered silence, and Garrett vaguely recognized what he said was weird but simply stared back at the detective.

“I said I want to watch. It’s fun watching cops scramble around for an answer, like they did when they discovered my game. One of them threw up when they realized it was teeth marks in that bastard’s throat. So, let me know when you ‘find’ the body.”

Garrett looked away, returning to his muffin, leaving Hoffman to process the fact that he DESPERATELY needed real therapy.

He went to continue the conversation, maybe to learn WHY Garrett was so weird about watching the investigation, but his phone cut him off. “Hoffman,” he greeted when he answered, immediately catching Garrett’s attention. “Right,” he continued after a moment, tucking the phone between his ear and shoulder as he pulled out a notepad and a pen.

After a few “uh-huh”s and “got it”s, Hoffman had an address scribbled down- one Garrett immediately recognized as where his game had taken place. “Speak of the devil…” he muttered, gaining a somewhat concerned look from the detective.

“I’ll be there soon,” Hoffman said into the phone, grabbing it from his shoulder and flipping it shut. “I assume I’ll be meeting you there,” he told Garrett, before standing up and heading out. Garrett watched him leave, just like he did last night, except this time he wasn’t out of the door before Garrett was following.

---

Garrett actually ended up getting a ride from Hoffman, which was undoubtedly awkward.

They hadn’t been in this confined of a space together yet, and Garrett was making it a point to not look at Hoffman, which in turn just made Hoffman nervous because usually that means someone is about to lash out.

It was not a pleasant trip.

Garrett practically lunged out of the car when they arrived, moving much faster than Hoffman thought he could in order to avoid detection by the police. The last thing he saw was Hoffman getting out to greet another cop before he was sneaking into the building through one of the windows.

The building had two floors- the room he used for the game was on the bottom floor, and the room he had the monitoring equipment set up in was on the top floor. The building was easy to scale, which is why Garrett had no problem getting up there. He wasn’t worried about being found either, because he blocked off the door to the room when he left after the game.

He would take every possible precaution under the sun not to be found if it meant he got to watch the chaos he created unfold.

Garrett dropped to the floor from the window as quietly as possible, avoiding any chance of the floor creaking as he made his way over to the single monitor set up for the game. He clicked it on, and settled down in the chair in front of it.

The camera came to life almost immediately, and he grinned at the sight of the crime scene.

They’d moved Cara out of the iron maiden, which was a little disappointing but understandable, since they needed to inspect her body.

He couldn’t hear what they were saying, having turned off the sound just to be safe. If he knew any more about this investigation than what he could see and slipped up… he just knew he couldn’t let that happen.

So he settled for silence, instead reading their lips as best as he could.

At some point, they’d closed the box, though he wasn’t sure why. Did they put the key back in there? Were they using it to store the tape recorder, which was nowhere to be found despite Garrett leaving it right where Cara had dropped it?

It was odd, and Garrett didn’t like not knowing why they had done it. He would ask Hoffman later.

Speaking of the detective, Hoffman looked very… in his element here, in the middle of a crime scene. He looked confident and sure of himself, which Garrett didn’t see much back at the Jigsaw base. Maybe it was because they didn’t talk often, or Hoffman just still wasn’t sure about this whole apprentice thing. Either way, he was very attractive when he knew what he was doing.

Garrett also noted that Hoffman didn’t struggle even a little bit to pretend he had no idea who had done this, or deciding he simply didn’t see the difference between a normal Jigsaw game and this one. Part of him wondered if he was playing along because he knew Garrett was watching, but a larger part of him appreciated that he was such a good actor.

John had told him about Hoffman’s copycat killing- the pendulum trap built for his sister’s killer- so he wasn’t totally surprised that this came naturally to him. Still, it was nice to know he wasn’t going to slip up and get them all caught.

They were looking at the iron maiden now, and Garrett tensed up without noticing it. He didn’t want to leave it behind when the game was over, but he had to, so the body could be found the exact way she died. And he’d worn gloves while setting it up and building, but seeing people inspecting it made him nervous, and he started fidgeting.

It started with just a bounce of his leg, but the longer they looked, the more nervous he got. By the time they finally moved away, he had bitten hard enough into his hand to draw blood.

“Shit,” he muttered to himself, running his tongue over the wound so the blood didn’t start dripping. They were wrapping up the investigation now, since he hadn’t really left many clues for them- they already had Detective Hoffman and Detective Mathers was already warned about his upcoming game.

He watched them leave the room and shut off the camera once it was empty, listening through the window for the retreat of the cars. When he was sure no one was left, he climbed out the window and back down the building.

Admittedly, he was a little surprised to find Hoffman still there, leaning against the side of the car and waiting for him. It made him smile, and he realized that being grateful for small shit like this wasn’t helping his case to not get attached.

“Better drive fast, detective, I’ve got a furnace to finish.”

#story tag: listen closer #self ship fic #self shipping #self insert #scrap.writing #scrap.ships #romantic: ⛓🕵️‍♂️#s/i: garrett whitlock #mark hoffman #romantic: 🦿🩺#(poly) romantic: ⛓🩺#lawrence gordon #chapter 4

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megastarstriker · 4 years

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★{𝗡𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗧𝗼 𝗡𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗹}★

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𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: Bullying and Abuse, Slight Cussing, Depression and Anxiety

Contains: FLUFF AND ANGST

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Nikki Sixx x Asperger’s! Female Reader

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩:

Summary: (Y/N) a 13 year old girl goes to her first day in high school. Despite the hard attempts and making friends because of her socially awkwardness she finds herself distracted by a certain boy in her class. (Note: This isn’t made for discrimination or stereotypes to people who go through anxiety, depression or have autism. This is all real stuff and written for the sake of notice and to betaken seriously. I won’t be portraying any kind of offensive or critical stereotypes nor will ever in this one-shot. This was based on personal experience and point of view. IF YOU ARE DEALING WITH ANXIETY AND DEPRESSION AND ARE TRIGGERED BY THESE SAME THEMES. PLEASE DO NOT READ FOR YOUR OWN SAKE. AND IF YOU ARE SUFFERING FROM EITHER ONE, PLEASE FIND SUPPORT OR HELP, WE ARE ALL HERE FOR YOU EVEN IF YOU DONT THINK SO WE ARE. WE WILL HELP YOU GET THROUGH IT, AND IN THE END IT WILL HELP YOU ALOT💕 )

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @metalheartofgold, @ginny-rose-sixx, @xxqueencolourxx, @littlemisscare-all,

💕 LOVE YOU GUYS AND LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANNA GET TAGGED 💕

Keys:

(Y/N) - Your Name

(L/N) - Last Name

{Photos and gifs aren’t mine they belong to their owners. I only own the editing} 💕

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1971

“Mommy, what if the other kids don’t like me or hate me.....”, I managed to utter out as I looked at her through a glimpse as I looked down at my shoes, while sitting on the stool near the counter.

“Oh Honey, don’t say that, you know that’s not true.”, Mom said in a cheery voice as she was working on breakfast listening to me as she did,” Some of those kids will like you. Might even want to be your friend.”

I looked up at my mom only glancing at her back as she was stirring the ingredients in a bowl, my attitude and mood not changing from its gloom state as I heard those positive words, as it should.’ Is she only saying that to make me feel better?’ I thought in my head as I felt a bit angry at the thought, a bit happy too that she cared, though it didn’t change my idea of it nonetheless.

......

“They think I’m a freak and a monster.....”, I said suddenly without emotion my voice breaking a bit as I felt tears building up a bit on my eyes at the idea of it, trying my best not let them crawl and trace down my cheeks as I didn’t want her to see me cry.

My mom then turned around from what she was doing in the kitchen towards me her eyes widening at what I said, almost dropping the pan she was holding that held a small stack of pancakes, as she heard those sharp and painful words out of my mouth. She gulped slightly making me quirk an eyebrow, waiting for a response and obviously worried and confused for her silence, feeling insecure as I awaited her answer. She then put the pan down and walked towards me kneeling down unto my level as I tried my best to dry roughly at the tears. Only for her to gently push them away from my face and take her soft and delicate hands and brush the tears away with her fingertips as she grabbed my face gingerly, her eyes filled with concern as she did.

“You are not a freak or a monster....Ok. and definitely not a monster.”, My mom corrected me sincerely as she said in a whispering tone to me letting her forehead connect with mine as her gaze met mine.” You are just different from the rest of the other kids.”

“You are special.”, She said as she kissed my forehead, embracing me as she did, returning the hug it a few moments later as I registered the action in my brain. Letting my arms wrap around her for warmth and comfort, as I left the few remaining tears drop unto her clothed shoulder, cursing myself for it.

......

“Yeah Right.”, I muttered under my breath sarcastically as I replayed the events from this morning. Holding a pen and flicking it repeatedly, as I felt my anxious state grow with every step I took towards what was now called my school, trying to take my stress away roughly at the writing utensil gripped tightly at my hand as I repeated the process. This was a soothing technique for me for whenever I felt overly stressed or anxious in a situation. Despite the annoying sound it would do, I couldn’t help but feel calm and relief wash over me as I felt the tensing energy leave my body, easing my breathing, nerves, and muscles. I then stopped as I calmed down putting the pen on my pocket as I released a sigh, gripping my bag tightly.

------

This wasn’t the first time my mother has said or used the word special in those exact occasions. To be honest there was nothing special about me. This wasn’t my first school that I was attending either. I’ve been to many, and seen many faces from kids my age and younger to teachers and parents. Despite their differences they have one thing in common when it came to me. They all gave me the same look. Whether it was pitiful or dirty it didn’t matter. All the different kids from different schools gave me that same stupid and meaningless face. At first I thought it was because I was new to them, but then I started to quickly realize it wasn’t just that.....I was a shy girl so I never really understood at that time. All those times I would try to talk to people or waiting for them to approach me as I sat alone calmly doing my work....Being friendly and confident as possible as I greeted them with the best and nicest smile I could muster on my young face...They never responded back they simply whispered something to another kid and simply left me standing there stranded as they went to play with the other kids... Avoiding me entirely even when I went to speak with them again....Sometimes I tried asking the kids if I could play but they would either ignore me and walk away or say that It wasn’t a game for me to play......

“Did I say something wrong?”

“Was I not suppose to talk to them?”

“Why aren’t they talking to me?”

Those were some of the thoughts I had, but I knew those weren’t the exact reasons, knowing fully well I wasn’t bad when it came to speech or greetings when I talked to other people. The teachers blamed me for it of course, when I asked them why the other kids avoided me.

“Maybe if you weren’t and acted like such a freak, they would be talking to you.”, One Teacher I remembered bitterly saying to me with the fakest smile as she then turned her back towards me walking away from my small frame not caring whether those words struck my small heart or tear up and cry.

------

I shook my head and decided to think of something else as my sneakers grazed the cement floor on the sidewalk. I then looked towards the sky seeing the sun shinning and the pure white clouds forming picturesque structures as they floated above. ‘I wonder if there is any people living in those fluffy clouds?’, I thought with a smile,’ Is there such a thing as cloud puppies too!?’

I giggled a bit as I thought about what a cloud puppy would look like. Sort of like a poodle or but more fluffier and soft fur like marshmallows and cotton candy combined. “Are clouds tasty?”, I whispered out loud as I kept staring at the edible-looking clouds, ‘They do look a lot like cotton candy....so maybe.’

I then starred at my feet laughing at the thought, only for then to look up and noticed that I was already in front of the school.

I gulped as I was frozen in place.

“Here goes nothing”, I said to myself a bit nervously as I let my feet drag slowly towards the horrors of what was now officially called my school.

Walking towards the doors of the school, I couldn’t help but feel a wave of nausea hit me, totally uncomfortable on how all of this was going to go. After I enter the entrance to the school through the double doors I couldn’t help but notice one unnormal thing.

Empty halls.

‘Weird.’, I thought in my head with a raised eyebrow.,’ I thought it would be crowded by this time.’

Reading the letters on top of the doors, I checked to see my assigned class as I looked at each one on both sides of me in the empty halls. Seeing the exact one I enter it only for then to see a crowd of unfamiliar faces turned all of their heads in sync towards me.

I then closed it behind me with a jitter in my hands as I felt belittled by all the beady eyes of the students that were staring at me while sitting in there sits.

“Mrs.(Y/N), You’re late!”, A female voice said harshly next to me.

I then turned towards the origin of the voice to my right, seeing it was a middle aged woman with long hair that was tied up into a bun and was wearing glasses underneath her brown caramel eyes. Her faced was adorned with makeup and an angry scowl in her face as her eyes met mine, obviously unhappy and pissed.

“Care to explain why?.”, She said in a dominant tone, and with stern eyes as she crossed her arms across her chest and her heels clicked underneath the marble floor of the classroom as she tapped her foot impatiently.

“I-i....”, I started with a stammer and whisper obviously nervous and uneasy about all of the students who were staring at me in the front of the class.,”I-im sorry..”

‘Way to go me....’, I thought sarcastically at myself as I said those words.

The teacher squinted her eyes with a humph, only to then close them. Then as if on cue....

An erupting choir of laughter resounded in the entirety of the room in sync as all of the kids started to laugh at me. In that moment I felt humiliated and irritated, I wanted to just throw myself in a box and at the same time tell the kids to shove their mouths up their own asses to shut them up. But I felt completely vulnerable at the moment unknowing of what to say. as I felt small....

‘So much for good impressions.’, I thought in defeat as I looked down at the floor.

“Quiet down class, quiet down!”, The teacher said as she stared at room full of teens as they all kept quiet some of them still snickering softly, or trying to control the laughter that was still trying to emit from their lips.

“I’ll let you off with a warning since you did apologize, after all. The next time though I won’t and you will be sent to the principal’s office as punishment if this repeats. Understood.”, She said a bit more warmly still keeping a strict poise as she turned towards me.

I nodded slowly of course as I listen to her words looking down a bit ashamedly as I did.” Yes Mrs....”

“Mrs. Johnson.”, She said with a small smile and then she gestured towards the empty seat,” You can go ahead and sit next to Frank over there in the back.”

I then followed her arm towards were she was exactly pointing and to my thoughts, there was a boy with an orange pale button up shirt in the far back right next to were my assigned seat was, looking and snapping his thoughts towards the teacher as he heard his name from the teacher’s mouth. I gulped ‘Why the far back?’ I then looked towards the front row and saw the whole aisle filled students already, ‘Oh that’s why...’

Taking a deep breath, I stepped towards through the rows of filled seats, hearing whispers or name-callings as I walked past them towards my seat. Of course I glared at the students a bit in front of me while also trying to put a fake smile for them as I tried my best to ignore their harsh and childish remarks. As I reached the desk, I couldn’t help but notice the “Frank” boy from earlier stare at me from the corner of my eyes as I sat beside him, knowing that he wasn’t in the beginning until he heard his name being called. His bright green eyes observing me as I put my backpack close to my side and slumped into my seat. I then saw as the boy stared for a few seconds at me more before looking away from me in boredom just like a few minutes earlier.

As he looked away, I couldn’t help but stare at him as I got good look at him clearly compared to when I was in the front of the class. “Frank” had brown blondish hair that was a bit long and slicked back neatly, green and slightly dark eyes as the color of leaves in the trees during springs or summer as they stared boredly away as one hand was held towards his cheek, leaning his elbow against and touching the table on his desk propping his head up, wearing his orange pale button up shirt and white pants, along with some sneakers.

“Cute.”, I whispered a bit too loudly as I stared at him my cheeks dusting with a violent red as I realized what words fell from my mouth. Frank being near me ,considering he was beside me and the whole class was quiet at the moment, turned his head to me as he heard what I said with a confused face, either not catching what I just heard or uncomfortable with what I said from my understanding. I then stared to the front away from him, my shoulders tense, my face completely red, and my heart beating out as if it were to rip away from my ribcage and body. I breathed steadily and sighed, as I felt his stare drift away as he huffed a bit going back to his usual stuff to staring at nothing. ‘Geez, what are you thinking girl.....’, I scolded at myself with a mental facepalm,’ You already messed it up with coming late, now your making it worse by telling a boy he is cute....Ugh, at least I hope he didn’t hear me.’

The teacher started lesson as if a few minutes prior and after the incident. Staring mindlessly at the chalkboard, I couldn’t help but feel a bit tired and suddenly....bored as I tuned out the teachers words. ‘School sucks.’, I thought for a moment before a lightbulb suddenly went above my head with a silent yawn,’ I’m gonna draw.’

I then took my separate drawing pad, pen and pencil, while flipping to and empty page. I then started to work my magic as I began to doodle what was on my mind as ideas spurred through my brain. I was pondering on what to draw as I held the pen close to my chin. I had a great influence and overall interest in music, I loved it so much especially when it came to rock music. Because of that, I wanted to become a musician or songwriter one day. I then thought about drawing puppies or rockstars.....

I then did just that as I drew cute little doodles of puppies along with a rockstar sketch of my favorite musician. As I kept listening at the teacher to the class while also distracting myself with some quality time for me, I noticed something soft yet solid grazing shoulder slightly, landing at next to my feet on the floor. It was a crumbled up piece of paper that was made into a ball. Rolling my eyes, I didn’t think any of it as I kept tracing my pen on the paper.

‘Psst. Hey.’

Fixated on the paper I kept on drawing cute little stars and details on the drawing oblivious to the person that was calling someone else, whoever did.

‘Psst!’

This time it was a bit more louder but still made into a whisper as I didn’t bother to check who it was that made the noise.

I then felt another hard thud on my shoulder this time still soft but harsh as the solid material hit me directly. Leaving my eyes from the paper as I had an angry frown in my face obviously annoyed at the person who threw the paper at me, I looked towards the person who made the ‘psst’ sound again only to see that it was the so called ‘Frank’ boy from earlier.

He then gestured towards the crumbled sheet of paper in front of my desk. I narrowed my brows at him, with suspicion but complied either way so he could stop bothering me, despite the fact he seemed friendly. Grabbing the crumbled sheet, I heard the sound of the bell ringing before I could open it. The class was then dismissed but before I could read the note that the boy passed to me. I felt a harsh shove as I fell back on the seat causing the note to fall from my hands and into the floor, nobody noticing as they let their dirty shoes graze and paint the paper. Seeing that everyone left including the person that shoved me by accident, I went to pick up the note from the ground only to see that it was indeed painted with shoe prints and ripped in half harshly. ‘Ugh...’ I groaned in disgust as I went to the trash to throw it away,’ I hope it wasn’t something important that I needed to know.’

I then looked towards the back of the class were Frank was, only to find out he wasn’t there anymore. Frowning a bit at the thought as I was hoping maybe I could talk to him, I went towards were all the students were going....probably the cafeteria..

‘Maybe I’ll see him there’, I thought lightening up a bit with a smile.”

‘We’ll even be friends probably....”

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

{AUTHORS NOTE}

Hey there I hope you all enjoyed this little miniseries I’m doing. The reason I made this was because of personal experience in my early years in high school, and I felt I had to write them down. I also wondered how it will be like if Sixx to ever meet a girl with autism. I’ll be uploading part two as soon as I can of course .hope you liked it and Thank you for reading.

💗{LIKE OR REBLOG TO SAVE}💗

#nikki sixx #nikki sixx x reader #young nikki sixx #young nikki sixx x reader #motley crue

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twstwonderlandstuff · 3 years

Text

When a cub visits! (Cheka and OC! ft. Leona and Grim)

Cheka and Himawari Nikko! ft. Leona and Grim

Summary: It's a little difficult to draw when there's an enthusiastic lion cub by Himawari's side. Luckily, he's got plenty of tales to entertain them.

A/N: THIS IS NOT A SHIP BETWEEN LEONA AND MY OC, you hear me! Leona is 20, a certified adult. My OC is 16, a certified TEENAGER. This is about a teen who happens to take care of an adult's nephew, and then they have little interactions, okay? Ok.

Warning(s): I'm using they/them for the sake of lore (cuz their actual gender isn't revealed yet HEHEHE) so... yeah.

Notes will be written after the fic and will be placed under-cut because of length.

_____

Leona sighed, frowning. Why, of all days, does he have to be here?

“Uncle Leona!” God, what an annoyance.

“What?” He spat at his nephew, who was holding his hand and walking cheerfully next to him down the hallways. Many steered clear of the lion, and for good reason too.

“Can we play Magic Shift? Please?” Cheka begged, looking up at him.

“Go by yourself.”

“But Papa said I gotta be with you all the time!”

“Tch-” Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the herbivore who ruined his plans… a sneer crawled up his face.

“After you play with the herbivore over there.” Leona gestured lazily towards the orange-color mop. “Then I’ll play Magic Shift with you.”

“For real?!” Cheka lit up, squeezing Leona’s hand. “We gotta make a pinky promise first, uncle!”

“Fine.” After the deed was done, Cheka ran off towards the boy and Leona quickly made his escape to the botanical garden to sleep.

“Hey hey!” Himawari turned around and so did Grim who laid in their lap. They were perched on one of the benches in NRC, looking at the sunset as one does.

“Hey, it's Leona’s kid!” Grim noticed, tilting its head. “Why’s he coming to us?”

Cheka quickly fell into Himawari’s arms, which scared Grim from leaving their lap. Hima gave the lion cub a quick squeeze before making him settle down next to them. They took up their notebook, quickly scribbling: ‘Hello!’

“What’s the big deal, oi!” Grim grumbled. “That was my seat!”

“Uncle Leona said I gotta play with you before I can play Magic Shift with him!” The child smiled with glee, sharing a toothy grin. “So, I’m gonna play with you!”

“He totally wants to get rid of you, huh…” Grim whispered, both it and Himawari sharing a look. Himawari smiled, carding a hand through Cheka’s hair, writing: ‘How long are we going to play?’

Cheka shrugged. “Dunno, I guess until Uncle calls- oh!” Cheka quickly reached for the notebook. “Can I draw, uh… hmmm…”

“The name’s Himawari, and I’m the Great Grim! Remember us!” Grim cackled, smirking.

“Oh-oh! The one who fainted during the Magical Shift! That was funny!” Cheka pointed out, laughing. Himawari let out a sigh, glaring at Grim.

“It’s not my fault that henchman's really weak!” Grim shot back, sticking its tongue out. Himawari shook their head at the cat, nodding at Cheka’s request.

“Yay!” The lion cub got busy, but eventually…

“Aww… it didn’t turn out right…” Cheka gloomed, staring at the picture. “Uncle Leona… doesn’t look like that!”

“It looks kinda bad-” A sharp glare came from Himawari. “Ah, uh, it looks pretty good, kid!”

“No, it doesn’t… you’re lying!” Cheka grumbled, starting to sob. “Uncle looks cooler than this…”

An idea sparked in Himawari’s head as they gently took the notebook away from Cheka, writing: ‘I can draw him for you if you'd like.’

“...Okay!” Cheka gave the magicless student a thumbs up, pressing against their side, enthusiastically waiting. Grim followed suit, pressing against their other side. With a small smile, the Ramshackle Prefect began to sketch.

“Uncle’s so cool…” Cheka murmured, laying his head on Himawari’s shoulder. “I wanna be like my uncle one day.”

“But he’s kinda lazy, you know. He slacks off and is kinda a douche.” Grim grumbled. Cheka shook his head.

“No, he’s not! My uncle works hard, it’s just… no one knows that he does.” The cub trailed off quietly. “When he’s at home, sometimes I see him reading books and solving hard stuff, but he doesn’t know that I know.”

“...I like my uncle. He’s the best.” The lion cub smiled, looking towards the orange sky. “Someday, I’m gonna beat my uncle in Magic Shift, you'll see!”

‘Good luck.’ Himawari wrote on the notebook, adding: ‘It’s gonna be hard. Your uncle is strong.’

“Yeah, I know, but I will! Oh, you know, I’ve been working on my roar. Wanna listen to it?” Before he could get an answer, Cheka roared, making Himawari pull away.

“Fgna-!” Grim was quick to cover its ears.

“Tada~ Uncle’s gonna love it- pfft!!!” Cheka’s eyes gleamed in excitement as the cub took a look at the drawing, already giggling. “His face!” Himawari flinched at the sudden movement.

“Has he ever smiled like that…?” Grim asked, peering at the drawing. Himawari shook their head.

‘Probably not.’ They giggled. ‘I’m not good with faces.’

“Can I show this to Uncle?!” An immediate shake of the head came for the artist. “Why not? He’ll like it!”

“More like he’ll get mad at us.” Grim corrected. “Especially with that goofy smile…”

“Hah, what’s this~?” A teasing voice came from above. Himawari paled as Cheka looked up.

“UNCLE!” Leona flinched at the volume.

“Don’t be so loud, brat.” Leona easily pried the notebook out of Himawari’s hands, to their horror.

“Hah.. what’s with my face?” The lion questioned, looking at the page. “Oi, herbivore, I don’t look like that.”

“I asked Mister Himawari to make it! It’s nice, right, Uncle?” Cheka added, standing up to follow Leona. The second-born hummed absentmindedly in reply.

“Since you drew it for me, I think I’m going to take it.” Leona chuckled, ripping the page out of the book before handing it back to Himawari. “Come on, brat, let’s take you to Magic Shift.” “YAY!” Cheka cheered, hugging Leona’s leg. “See you, Hima-chan, Grim-chan!”

“Don’t call us that!” Grim grumbled as Himawari meekly waved goodbye.

After they left, the two Ramshackle live-in’s gave a collective sigh. “He scared me!” Grim grumbled, Himawari enthusiastically nodding.

‘I thought he was going to rip my notebook.’ They wrote, smiling in relief.

“Maybe he really did like it?” Grim questioned.

They both shrugged. Himawari closed the notebook and set it aside, inviting Grim to sit on their lap as they once again bathed in the glow of the sunlight.

“I’m confused why the kid likes Leona, but eh,” Grim shrugged. “ ‘s not really our business… ah, the sun’s so warm.”

Himawari nodded. It really is.

“...thanks.”

“Whatcha say, uncle?”

“Nothing.”

-------

Notes:

So, there's this OC Question Meme by @marchenvillain here and it's 100 questions, so! Instead of asking people so I can answer, I'm going to do it myself!

Question 1: What’s a unique skill they have? Is there any reason why they can do it?

Answer: They have the unique skill of taking care of children. Himawari adores babies, but they don't seem to like their face very much, and kids think it looks funny, so they stick to caring for children. They got this skill from volunteering at a daycare back home.

^ (as evident by the picture, Himawari and babies don't get along well)

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dancing-the-hellfire-rumba · 4 years

Text

Seen ✓ - 1

REWRITE OF “Can You See The Stars”

Pairing: Sam x Fem!Reader Warnings: fear of being kidnapped Word Count: 2.4k Series Summary: On her way home, Y/n finds an abandoned, cracked phone on the sidewalk. Anxious about the well-being of its owner, she picks it up and texts the first contact she finds; Sam. A/N:This is my second attempt at the story everyone loved, with an actual pllot in mind this time. So, attempt number two, better writing, better story. Have at it kids.

I have tagged the old taglist for this first part. Let me know if you wanna be removed/ added

Beta: The lovely @percywinchester27 . Thank you so so much hon :) Masterlist

Chapter One: you sure know how to fuck me up on a friday night

Y/n | Sam

The road to independence is uphill, and Y/n knows this better than anyone. She’s done it all. She’s gone through jobs at a similar speed with which she goes through books, worked two or more of them, while also studying for college… She knows how it works, and it’s really fucking difficult to balance emotional baggage the size of a city, an underage sister and college, while also trying to keep, not only yourself, but another person, alive, under a safe roof with food in your stomachs.

Currently, she’s only working one job, at a dive bar owned by a friend of a friend as a waitress.

It’s a difficult job, and Y/n has struggled with it, but the hardest part is not the endless knowledge one needs to mix drinks –on the nights Joel takes time off and she has to take his spot behind the bar- or the carrying up to twenty pounds of glasses and drinks and delivering them at the right table without soaking herself or anyone else with copious amounts of alcohol. Any minimum wage worker will tell you the same thing- clients of any kind fucking suck. Especially if you’re a young woman at a dive bar after midnight.

Another thing she’s struggled with is not having too much money, which is why she’s needed multiple jobs in the past, so she has to use public transport- buses specifically, to go to and from work. And that is exactly where she finds herself, a couple hours after midnight, at her bus stop, five minutes from the bar, when she finds a phone which, unbeknownst to her, will flip her world upside down.

It sits on the pavement of the bus stop, limp and sad. The screen is cracked a significant amount, and for a second she figures someone got rid of it and was too much of an asshole to throw it in the trash. But the second that thought crosses her mind, the screen lights up with a concerning text.

dude where the fuck are you?!

The contact reads “Sam”, and Y/n stands over the phone staring at it. She’s concerned. What if the phone’s owner is in trouble? The device may have fallen from their pocket on the pavement and cracked because they were running from someone and never made it home, and now whoever is texting them is worried for their well-being. Anxiety grips her heart.

It’s instinct that brings her to kneel down and pick it up. She can’t possibly know when the owner lost it, or how long the phone has been sitting there, but there’s an overwhelming urge to contact this Sam person and let them know what’s going on. Of course, the voice in Y/n’s head tells her that this all could just be a product of her anxiety, but it beats leaving it there and having it be stolen by a passerby.

Whatever, right? Best case scenario, she contacts the owner, who is perfectly safe and sound, and they take their phone back. She’s not really planning to pocket it. It’s fairly damaged anyways. Her own three year old, beat-up, 100$ phone is in better condition.

The bus arrives, and Y/n picks up the phone and boards it.

As she sits in her usual seat in the back, alone in the bus apart from an elderly man asleep with his head on a window and a cap on his head near the front, she starts speculating, eyes glued to the black device in her hands. Who’s the owner? Who is Sam to them? Perhaps a partner? A friend? How did the owner lose their phone? Why would this Sam sound so concerned, and most importantly, is the owner okay?

The heavy weight of dread weighs her chest at the thought of the phone’s owner being in trouble and without a phone. She must contact Sam immediately.

Hey, is this Sam?

As she awaits for a response, her curiosity is killing her. The intrigued part of her, reasons that she should snoop, it’s alright, she’s only looking for more information about the owner. Like whether or not they’re a woman or a man- which, sadly, matters when you’re walking alone in dark streets like the ones around this area- and perhaps their age –because, again, it matters if they are a teenager or a forty-year old adult.

The lack of passcode indicates someone older, with nothing to hide, or perhaps someone less technologically savvy, again, someone who may not be very young. The lockscreen is the most popular Led Zeppelin icon, and she instantly respects their music taste, and the home screen is some generic western movie from the 90s with Clint Eastwood. The chances of this belonging to someone younger further decline.

There’s a grand total of four downloaded apps in the phone. There’s an email app, a scrabble app, a microphone recorder and a dating app, no other sign of social media. Someone over 18 years old, definitely.

Soon, she’s tapping on the dating app, and opening their profile page. Holy shit, she thinks.

A guy, the tall, dark and handsome kind. Spiky hair and a smolder-like smile, sharp edges everywhere on his face apart from his gentle, olive-shaped and colored eyes. His lips are full, his nose straight, and his eyelashes long, dark and thick. He’s a real-life dreamboat, the kind you see in movies and Cosmopolitan articles about sex. He’s sitting on a black muscle car, a Chevrolet, with his thick thighs barely contained in blue jeans.

Dean Winchester, the app writes. 28. Male. Likes: old cars, beer, hard rock, westerns, she figured that much, bacon burgers. Dislikes: pop music, modern horror movies, uncomfortable beds. Not looking for anything serious, just a night of fun ;), and wow, okay, he sounds a bit like a dick. The very Red-blooded American Male kind, that enjoys BBQs and winking at women from across the bar. She’s had enough of those during her line of work; she can recognize them from a mile away.

Whatever the case, her moral compass couldn’t allow her to pass up on the opportunity to possibly help someone in trouble. She ignores her urge to roll her eyes, and scrolls a little, finding other pictures of the same guy, when suddenly two separate notifications appear, the phone itself vibrating. One is from the app, which has now received a picture from this girl, Jamie, one which she certainly doesn’t plan on opening, seeing as it’s followed by a winky face. The second one is from Sam.

jesus dean how drunk are you

yes it’s sam. your brother? remember?

No, this isn’t Dean, uh.

My name is Y/n. Your brother lost his phone at a bus stop, near a bar.

i should’ve figured. dean rarely ever uses punctuation.

nice to meet you i guess

Nice to meet you, too.

So basically, uhm, I thought you might help me return his phone to him? I got worried, because this was dumped on the sidewalk, I thought he may be in trouble or something.

knowing him he probably dropped it while being too shitfaced to function.

gotta admit i’m impressed though. most people would’ve pocketed it by now.

I mean, it’s not much use to me with such a cracked screen haha.

yeah i guess.

i don’t know about getting it back to him though. i’m in kansas right now so i’m not close by. i don’t think i can help you.

he doesn’t use social media either.

Crap.

What the hell am I supposed to do with this phone then?

keep it probably.

You sure there’s no other way I can reach him?

i mean i can give you his email but i’m not sure he’ll respond.

I’ll take it. Thank you :)

no problem :)

As she looks up the bus stops, and she quickly realizes this is her stop. Throwing profanities loudly enough to wake the older man at the front of the bus, she scrambles for her things, haphazardly thrown in the seat next to her, and gets off the bus. She pats herself down, making sure she hasn’t forgotten anything as the doors of the bus shut, and starts down the road to her apartment complex.

She could probably navigate this road blind. There are many ways to reach the apartment she’s renting from the bus stop, but her favorite goes through the park. It’s a large area, full of big trees with thick foliage and leaves that brown in the fall. The paths are paved and winded, and the park benches are stained with dark wood stain and curve comfortably. She enjoys coming here in evenings she has off, watching the sun descend behind the top of the trees with a good book.

The air smells like oncoming rain now, and with headphones deep in her ears, she walks taking deep breaths and enjoying the clear atmosphere that seems so unlike the roads that surround the park. As soon as she spots the first raindrop falling from the sky, she pulls her hood over her head and smiles.

It’s minutes later, when single drops have picked up to a drizzle, that she gets a sinking feeling, her hair standing up on edge at the back of her neck, shoulders knotting closer to her ears. Someone is close to her.

With the wire pinched between her thumb and index, she pulls one earbud off and pays attention to the surrounding sounds. Sure enough there’s a second pair of footsteps behind her.

Fuck, if she gets kidnapped or attacked right now, she’s fucked. There are no witnesses, and at this time of night screaming for help would be futile. She checks her bag, but her paper spray is nowhere to be found.

Yeah. Definitely fucked.

Her hands go deep in her pockets, going for her phone, but as she hears the footsteps behind her picking up speed along with hers, she panics and grabs Dean’s instead. She doesn’t look for her own, there’s no time for that, so she does the first thing she thinks of.

She texts Sam.

I think I’m being followed.

what?

Yeah

wait what’s going on? are you okay? who’s following you?

I’m walking home from work. I can’t see who it is, but they’re definitely on my tail.

how are you even typing right now??

is there any buildings around? somewhere public to get in?

It’s 3 am. Everything is shut and I’m in the middle of a fucking park, Sam.

Fuck, I’m fucked.

what are you doing at 3 am in the middle of a fucking park then?!

A hand falls on her shoulder and she goes to scream, before she’s quickly spun around. Her free hand is curled in a fist, ready to fall on the attacker’s nose, when they speak.

“Y/n! I thought it was you!”

“Connor?!” She squints and pushes her hair away from her forehead, heart just about ready to fail out of the fright she’s gotten. “Fuck’s sake, dude, what the fuck are you doing sneaking up on me in the middle of the night like this?!” Rain still falls on her, grounding her to the present, the fact she won’t have to fight for her life and corporeal integrity sinking in slowly.

Her neighbor smiles a crooked smile, watching her place a hand over her heart and taking a deep breath. His fluffy blonde hair is damp under the light rain, light green eyes glowing under the street lights. She’s so angry at him right now, she legitimately thought she was gonna die for a second there.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” he says, dropping his hand from her shoulder. “I didn’t think to call out to you.” A shrug.

“It’s okay,” it’s really not, but there’s no point in staying angry at him. Besides, she figures she’ll be a little safer with him walking next to her all the way back to their apartment complex.

On the way back, they catch up. Connor is back in town after a long week and a half at his sister’s wedding. He’s in a brand new relationship with the guy he’s been pining over for like 9 months now, and he got a job at the bookstore, close to their building, he’s starting next week. He was out for a drink, he offers as an explanation, and was returning home, when he bumped into her. The park is also his favorite route to take.

The key dangles from her hands and finds a home in the lock and twists, while Y/n waves at her neighbor.

“Have a good night, Connor.”

“You too, Y/n.” It’s delivered with a wink and a bright smile.

The motions of dropping her bag by the kitchen counter, dumping the keys in the small bowl and hanging her coat on the hanger are delivered on autopilot in quick succession. Shoes toed off, hair pulled out of her lazy bun, she falls unceremoniously on her thrifted couch, feet suspended on the hand rest. Emmy must be asleep, the only lights on in the house are the fairy lights over the couch, setting a soft glow over the furniture. Y/n sighs. What a day.

Seconds before she falls asleep on the couch, a phone vibrates and it’s definitely not her own. Her eyes snap wide open, and she curses, fumbling with Dean’s device.

The messages are seven, and they all share the same panicked tone. Upon reading them, Y/n facepalms and curses, guilt weighing her down. Poor guy.

y/n?

what’s going on?

are you okay?

y/n

what the hell is going on.

you’re not replying.

please text me if you’re safe.

My God, Sam, I’m so sorry.

It was a neighbor/friend, he sneaked up on me.

you sure know how to fuck me up on a friday night.

I’m genuinely so sorry, Sam, I had no idea it was him.

it’s okay

you were scared.

i am starting to question your choice in friends though.

Y/n grins for the first time that day. It’s wide and full. Sam sounds like a guy she’d hang out with.

Hahahah yeah.

I promise, Connor’s odd, but he means well.

well i have to go

but i’m glad you’re safe

Again, I’m really sorry to make you go through that.

it’s fine really.

Thank you.

Goodnight :)

Night :)

---

Part 2

A/N 2: Tell me how you’re liking the rewrite!

Old Can You See The Stars taglist: @shutupiminlooove @sammysgirl1997 @kymberlytorres @bambi95-blog @demonic-meatball @thekarliwinchester @littlekay15 @li-m-ii @thinspo-isuppose @carryonmywaywarddemigodwitch @ellen-reincarnated1967 @moonlitskinwalker @marichromatic @illuminatus42 @lazy-author @mirandaaustin93 @hauntedsiriel @pilaxia @devilgirlsarah @nobodys-baby-now @captiveties @calamitychaos @midiocris @wordswillscream

Sam taglist @kymberlytorres @theboykingsam @depressed-moose-78 @andi-mendes-barnes @captainmarvelcorps @nerd-in-a-galaxy-far-away @nellachain

#sam winchesterx reader #sam x fem!reader #sam winchester x fem!reader #spn fanfiction #supernatural #spn fanfic #sam x reader

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a-lonely-tatertot · 3 years

Text

Finding Home

A/N: HIIIIIII IM BACK BOIS! Anyways this is a shorter chapter I didn’t wanna mess with outline so you get tiny chapter. sooo woot woot for like barely 2k words? But like the doc im writing this on is at like 19k and 29 pages i am in shock. trying to get back a consistent updating with this so uh yeah dont keep your hopes up tho- working on ch. 7 rn hope you enjoy! As always betaed by the glorious @bookwyrminspiration

words: 2208

tw: none

wattpad ao3

Chapter 6: These Secrets Stain Us Red

They had gotten off the bus at the last stop before Kull, stepping out into the cold air. Sophie glanced at the trees in the distance turning orange and yellow. Distantly, she remembered when she was younger this was her favorite season, how the leaves would fall and crunch at her feet, and how it was actually somewhat bearable to be outside. She smiled at the memory as she held Linh’s hand, walking quickly to the gas station, her stomach already grumbling.

“Linh?” a voice called from behind them as they stood in line. Linh swung around, trying to find the source of who called her, nearly startling Sophie into almost dropping her water. The mystery person stepped out from behind a small cluster of people with an overly energetic wave. “Linh! It is you!” he called.

Sophie watched as Linh’s eyes landed on the man and her whole expression shifted. As opposed to the man’s own happiness, Linh seemed to put a wall between her real emotions and the rest of the world, her face betraying nothing. “Hey, Sameul!” Linh said in pretend excitement; Sophie knew that her words carried an undertone of malice.

This Sameul was not the man Sophie had seen in the memories, but from Linh’s reaction, he seemed to probably be involved in whatever Linh was in.

“That’s me,” Sameul responded, clearly not getting Linh’s annoyance like Sophie was. “Geez, it’s been what, how many months since I last saw you?”

“Yeah it’s been a while,” Linh said, her shoulders rigid and her jaw set. Who the heck is this guy? she thought. Their name was called and Sameul followed them to go pick up their food. Sophie tried not to feel trapped with the way Linh’s eyes darted.

Sameul smiled ruefully, “Last time I saw you you had a little backpack and were running out the door in the middle of the night.” Linh took in a sharp breath and stuttering to a halt, her tray of food almost dropping. Sophie raised her eyebrows, more confused than ever. There was a beat then a sharp ring interrupted the weighted silence and Linh’s eyes widened with relief.

“Oh Sam, I’m sorry, that’s her sister calling. She’s really gotta take that. Why don’t you come with me?” Linh asked, more of a command than a suggestion. Reluctantly, Sophie pressed accept on her phone, ready to unleash the crazy whirlwind of shit that she had found out on one completely unprepared Amy. “What up checking in blame Tina she was worried,” Amy said, boredom concealing her concern.

“Uhuh sure Tina was worried,” Sophie chuckled. “Anyways, Linh is being super suspicious.”

Amy made a startled noise, “O-okay then so not well.”

Sophie nodded even though Amy couldn’t see her, “Yup, also uh side note, totally did not watch another one of her memories.” “Sophie! It’s like you’re trying to do it on purpose!”

“It was an accident I swear!”

“Mhm, yeah, definitely.”

Sophie grumbled, “Oh screw off. Anyway, I was in this bathroom and her knuckles were all bloody like she had punched something. And then this guy came in and said that she wasn’t allowed to be reckless anymore, but from what I saw it was like she was living with some other runaway people I guess?”

Amy was silent for a moment. “Well damn.”

“Yeah,” Sophie agreed. “You shoulda seen her when this guy recognized her while we were getting food; she got like scary tense and for a moment I thought she was gonna water power him.” “Water power him? Really? That’s what you’re calling it?” Amy said. Sophie could practically hear her raising her eyebrow. “At that point just call it water bending.”

“I refuse to call it that.”

“How dare you; you’ve disrespected our childhood.” Sophie laughed. “But seriously,” Amy continued, and she knew she wasn’t going to like what she was going to say next, “Soph, what happened to telling her about the memories? Instead, you just spied more.” “She’s the one with the sketchy past!”

“That you don’t have any right to!”

“She’s been weird and I need to figure out why. Once I do I’ll tell her everything.”

“No, you don’t need to figure it out yourself! You need to talk to her and she will tell you if she’s ready to.” “Don’t tell me what to do Amy. She lied to me. The first night we were together we talked about how we got here and she lied to me like it never happened.”

“This isn’t war Sophie. Just because you’re scared, just because she lied doesn’t mean you get to invade her privacy. She’s not the enemy Sophie, she’s your girlfriend.”

Sophie hung up and her phone buzzed twice more while she watched Linh walk back over to her. This wasn’t Amy’s problem, this wasn’t Amy’s life, so screw her for trying to tell her what to do. She had the abilities and she was sure as hell going to use them. “Sam left,” Linh said with a clearly fake smile. “Said he should probably get back on the bus and didn’t want to intrude.”

At that Sophie raised an eyebrow, she didn’t need to use her telepathy to know it was a lie.

Stepping on the bus felt like placing the weight of the world on her shoulders. She knew that man was something to Linh, or Linh was something to him; maybe he was what Linh was running from. She didn’t have regrets when she reached carefully out to Sameul’s mind and glanced at what he said to Linh. Maybe she should’ve regretted it, but she couldn’t bring herself to. She needed to know, when she had left the Lost Cities it was her way of saying “I will not be lied to even if it seems better that way”. So much had been kept from her and here she was, getting things from the source instead of waiting for someone to tell her.

The words, “You haven’t changed Linh,” rang in her ears as she pulled back, not letting any emotions show on her face as Linh followed behind her. Linh didn’t say anything so Sophie didn’t say anything and they settled into a tense silence as the bus around them buzzed with noise. Sophie tried to think of something to say as the words played on repeat in her head but Linh beat her to it.

“You never told me much about Mari, about what she means to you,” Linh said. Each word seemed rehearsed as if she had said it in her head a thousand times before speaking the words into existence. “I didn’t know you cared,” Sophie responded quickly before she could think it through.

“Tell me about Mari?” Linh asked softly.

Despite what Sophie was hiding from Linh and what Linh was hiding from her, she couldn’t stop herself from talking. The words may have meant nothing as she rambled on about her life there, only meant to be a distraction, but she let them spill from her lips without hesitation. She talked of Tommy, Angie, and Mari, of her weekly game nights, of the regulars at the diner. The people she had come to love yet when the time came she didn’t hesitate to leave ‘cause she was scared. Scared of the permanence of it, scared she’d lose herself in the dream of it. And how when she burned those bridges all she felt was a gaping hole in herself. As she talked she thought of the people she had left in the Lost Cities; how she burned it all like she had when she was young and reckless and angry burning her mark, the moonlark, into the ground desperate to prove something, desperate to mean something. But now she was afraid of that, tearing everything to shreds, burning it to ashes because she didn’t know how to mean something to someone. She thought of what Amy had said and briefly wondered if she would ever be able to just talk about something instead of treating everything as a mystery she was destined to solve. Eventually, her words lulled Linh to sleep and she let out a soft sigh of contentment as she laid her head on Sophie’s shoulder. Sophie glanced at Linh, only allowing herself a quick look at her girlfriend’s soft and relaxed face before staring out the window watching the gravel pass, not allowing herself time for her guilt and sadness to rise. She wasn’t allowed those feelings. With every fiber of herself Sophie dreaded and couldn’t wait for the moment they stepped off of the bus into Kull, the town with as weird of a name as people.

An hour later, as the sun started to fall behind the trees and the sky began to turn dark, that moment came and Sophie found her entire body filled with anxiety. They made their way to the front, Sophie in front of Linh, her hand stretched behind her holding Linh’s hand like a lifeline.

They were the only ones getting off and within seconds they were left standing on the dirt road, the bus was long gone. The air was cold, and the wind blew lightly, tossing around Sophie’s ponytail. Neither spoke to the other, standing in silence, staring at the buildings in front of them. It felt like they’d break a spell if they moved, if they talked, so Sophie didn’t. But Linh did (a spell didn’t need to last an eternity in her mind, just for the moment that it was intended for). Linh squeezed Sophie’s hand three times, dragging her out of her haze to stare at Linh confused.

“It’s a human thing,” Linh said sheepishly. Distantly Sophie remembered Amy teaching her, three squeezes, “I love you”. Four squeezes back and Sophie had said, “I love you too.” She didn’t have time to think if it was a lie because with that she started walking, entirely on autopilot, the familiar route to Mari’s house ingrained in her mind. It was after hours, so there’d be no point going to the diner. So she dragged Linh down main street, taking a left about halfway down, and then it was another block til she found herself outside the door on the white porch of the bright mobile home with her whole body buzzing. It was almost too much to be there; staring at it again it was like nothing had changed. But something had, because she didn’t have a key, and so she knocked with all of the impulsive courage she had left.

Three rapid knocks.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five seconds.

The door opened with a creak.

It wasn’t Mari.

There was a man, about her height, hair pulled in a bun and silver bangs over glasses. He was familiar, why was he familiar? Linh drew in a harsh breath of air and squeezed Sophie’s hand as tight as she could. That was when the puzzle pieces fell into place. That’s when it all made sense. The man standing in front of her was someone she hadn’t seen in two years other than in the memories she had unrightfully stolen from him. The man standing in front of her, still with his signature silver, was Tam Song.

Amy’s phone buzzed next to her, pulling her away from rereading her homework question for the eight time. Ever since Sophie’s call and her following silence Amy couldn’t focus; she tried to distract herself, and pulled herself away from texting Linh and telling her everything Sophie had told her. It’s not my place, she would think. It’s not part of the plan. Her phone unlocked and she slowly processed the photo and message. It was a picture of Sophie leaning her back against the gas station with her hand holding her phone to her ear. It was just like her co-conspirators to be that dramatic they had to send a photo too.

-Operation Collect the Dumbasses-

Braincell Holder: You know we heard that call. Pure of Heart Dumb of Ass: I thought we said that I would start this conversation? No Thoughts Head Empty: Yeah well you took too long. Braincell Holder: Not the Point. The Mental Stability: And the Point? This felt too pointed, Amy thought. Way too pointed and directed at her. Her phone buzzed again. Braincell Holder: Having second thoughts? Only slightly, Amy thought, but no no this needed to happen. The Mental Stability: No Pure of Heart Dumb of Ass: Thank the fucking ancients we can move on No Thoughts Head Empty: We’ve got a Phase 3 to begin

Phase 3, which they already had planned, would be the hardest to set up. Everything had to be just the right timing and just the right place.

Incoming call from Braincell Holder

Amy smiled as she accepted the call and long red hair popped into the frame. “Where is she?” Amy asked.

The redhead grinned, “She’ll be here in a minute, you know how Mrs. Sparkly Justice is; she’s got meetings but she said she’s got a friend who wants to help.”

Amy smiled, their little band of conspirators and their plan was working better than she could’ve imagined.

“So,” Amy said, “Where do we start?”

#appologies for italics i missed #tumblr was being shitty and i wasn't gonna do it all #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #amy foster #sophie foster #kotlc fic #kotlc fan fic #solinh #tam song #finding home #tater writes #kotlc sophie #kotlc amy #kotlc linh #kotlc tam

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nataliedanovelist · 4 years

Text

GF - Boxing

The beautiful, talented, amazing and wonderful @artsymeeshee has been going through a lot lately and I’ve been wanting to do something for her, so (since I can’t draw chibi Stans or think of a good fic that follows that theme XD ) I thought I would write this for her! Seriously, guys, she’s incredible in every way and deserves all the love in the world, so go give it to her!

I hope you like this fic, girl, and that you’re doing okay. - N.S.

~~~~~~~~~~

It all started back when the Pines family first arrived back at the Mystery Shack. Mabel was up in the storage room (It was much fuller than wise, but the attic was used as a bedroom at the moment.) and had dragged Dipper along with her to help find some old photographs. With only two weeks to work on her special birthday present for her grunkles, she needed all the help she could get in making them the perfect gift: a new scrapbook full of old photos of Glass Shard Beach and pictures Mabel had saved on her phone and was going to print of the old sailors out at sea.

Mabel had her hands on a box full of baby photos that she was totally going to use as blackmail. She squealed and then covered her mouth quickly so they wouldn’t get caught when she found a photo of two twin boys sitting in little sailor-suits on their parents’ bed. The one with six-fingers on his tiny fists didn’t look happy, but his brother was laughing and was proud of his new suit. Mabel tucked it into her folder to use for the scrapbook and checked another box. She opened it and was surprised to find news articles for boxing events and pictures of her uncles training. “Wow, Dipper, look.” Mabel said quietly and Dipper sat with her by the box. “Whoa, Stan was really good.” The boy commented as he picked up photographs of a bruised-looking, war-beaten, teenage-version of Stan had a fist up in the air in victory and a trophy in his grasp. Ford was by his side, enjoying stealing Stan’s gimmick of wrapping an arm around his neck and pointing at him as he beamed with pride. “Check out all these first places.” “Wonder where all his trophies…” But then Mabel stopped. There were boxes in this room labeled “trophies”, but all of those were Ford’s from science fairs and spelling bees, because this had originally been his house. Since Stan was kicked out and didn’t exactly have time or space for memorabilia, the trophies were long-gone, probably tossed out by Dipper and Mabel’s great-grandfather. Mabel’s blood boiled and her teeth clenched in a very un-Mabel way. “If I ever see Blendin again, I’m using his time-machine to go back in time and punch that jerk in the face.” She growled. “Yeah,” Dipper sighed and held out some good pictures of when both of the twins were boxing in elementary school. “But hey, these will look great in the new scrapbook.” He pointed out, trying to make his sister forget Filbrick. It worked; Mabel smiled and took some of the pictures. “These are great, thanks!” And she added them to the folder. “They look so cute! And they look like they might be having fun.” Dipper shrugged; to this day Stan still enjoys watching a match and he still gave awesome left and right-hooks. “So, do you need more pictures, or…?” “I think… I dunno, I was hoping to find one of them with Grandpa or Ma Pines. Do you think they’d want that?” Even after the scrapbook had been made and delivered, Mabel still thought back to Stan and Ford’s old boxing days. It was interesting and cool to her, so one afternoon she asked Stan to teach her some moves. She had never seen that old man look so happy. (Except when he announced that he was going to be sailing around the world with Ford.) He took her out to the backyard and taught her how to take a proper stance and how to give good hooks and how to dodge properly. Mabel found she liked the feeling of the gloves and the poses and moves came relatively quickly to her. By the time the sun was setting Stan was laughing and calling her a natural. About a week or so later, Stan left his newspaper on the table to help put out a small fire Ford had started due to an experiment gone bad, and Mabel saw an ad for boxing tryouts. There was a team right outside of Gravity Falls and the whole thing was over by the end of the summer, so Mabel could join if she wanted. When Stan came back and finished his newspaper, he put it in the newspaper bin (used to start campfires or for arts-n’-crafts) and Mabel swiped the article for the date, time, and location. Dipper woke up the next morning and found Mabel’s bed, as usual, empty. But then as Dipper was scrubbing his eyes he heard something weird outside. He looked out the window and stared to find Mabel in pink work-out shorts, a white t-shirt, and her hair up with a scrunchie as she punched a tree with boxing gloves. Dipper slipped on some shoes and his hat and vest and hurried outside. “Mabel, what are you doing?” He asked when he got behind her out in the crisp morning air. “Training for the boxing tryouts.” Mabel said as she worked, punching a tree so hard a branch fell off. Dipper smiled proudly and said, “I wanna help.” And so history repeated itself as Dipper hurried to the library after breakfast and found books on proper diet techniques and he looked up video-tutorials on great workout routines. He rode his bike besides Mabel and used her megaphone to cheer her on as she jogged down the dirt road. He wore a full on pillow-bodysuit so Mabel could punch something that moves and tries to punch back. Dipper even made her protein shakes with raw eggs and other stuff to help her keep her energy and he poured her Mabel Juice down the drain, earning him a raspberry courtesy of his twin. The kids were careful to keep it a secret, Mabel insisting she wanted to surprise Stan and Ford by coming back with a real boxing uniform and a declaration that she made the team. Dipper supported her one million percent and on the day of the tryouts, they hopped on a bus for the gym. Dipper walked with Mabel in her workout-gear, hands in his vest and a proud smile on his face. They walked into the correct room, the one with a big ring and some bleachers, and found Mr. Poolcheck’s cousin, Mr. Boxcoach. The cousins had the same tight-face, sharp jawline, and popping vein, and they were both equally scary, but Mr. Boxcoach’s legs weren’t skinny and perfect for swimming, rather bulky and perfect for boxing, and he had oily brown hair. He wore a blue-jacket over a white t-shirt and he had a whistle around his neck and a clipboard in hand. Boys from neighboring towns were there to try out, too, and more were approaching. Mabel and Dipper walked up to Mr. Boxcoach to properly introduce themselves and before any of them said a word, the scary man asked with his eyes down at his clipboard, “What’s your name, son?” “Oh, no,” Dipper shook his head and patted Mabel’s shoulder. “I’m not here to try out, but my sister is.” “Hi! I’m Mabel.” She said cheerfully, almost bouncing where she stood with excitement. Mr. Boxcoach finally looked at them and snorted. “Yeah, no. I’m not putting a girl on my team.” Mabel’s smile dropped. Dipper saw the devastated look on her face and he had to try extremely hard not to lose his temper. “Why not?” He asked. “Whaddya mean, why not, she’s a girl.” Mr. Boxcoach said like it was obvious and he tucked his clipboard under his arm. “I mean look at her, a butterfly clip in her hair and a bright-pink scrunchie. They’d eat her alive out there.” “So what if she takes good care of her hair and likes pink?” Dipper snapped. “Last I checked, that has nothing to do with how good she is. She’s really tough, just let her try, she’s got a great left-hook!” “Listen, kids, it’s anarchy out there…” “She can handle it!” “... there is no way I’m letting a girl on my team.” Mr. Boxcoach said firmly. “I wouldn’t be caught dead with a girl in my boxing ring.” Dipper narrowed his eyes, seeing red, his whole body shaking with rage. “You won’t even let her try out?” “Nope.” Dipper was ready to yell and make Mr. Boxcoach rue the day he underestimated Mabel Pines, but one glance at her told Dipper that she looked ready to go home, so he put an arm around her shoulders and walked her out the door. “Forget that jerk. Wanna stop by that new candy store in town? I think they have a new safer Smile-Dip.” He offered softly. Mabel shook her head and pulled her hair down, her scrunchie on her wrist. “I’d rather just go home.” “Okay, sure.” Dipper tried to smile comfortingly at her, but she wouldn't meet his eyes and Dipper could tell that she didn’t need smiles right now. ~~~~~~~~~~ Waddles was asleep under the card table while Ford and Stan played poker on the table. Ford slammed his cards down as his brother laughed maliciously and scooted the loot to his side of the table. “You cheated!” “Probably, wanna try to prove it, Wise Guy?” Stan dared. “Oh, you little…” The door opened and closed and the old men smiled to see the kids return, but they were unhinged to find Mabel in unusual attire and hurrying up the stairs with tears in her eyes. The bedroom door slammed shut and Waddles woke up and trotted up the stairs. “What’s wrong with Mabel?” Stan asked. Dipper sighed and collapsed in the armchair. “Mabel wants to be on the boxing team.” Ford and Stan exchanged proud and surprised looks, but they also remembered that their little girl was upset right now. “Did she not make the team?” Ford guessed sympathetically. “She didn’t even get to try out.” “Why not?” Stan pressed on when Dipper fell silent and didn’t look in a hurry to tell more of the story. He gave them both a careful look, like he was debating if it was worth telling them, but he eventually said, “Coach says he wouldn’t be caught dead with a girl in his ring.” “WHAT?!” Stan stood up quickly and looked just as mad as he did back when he discovered that Mable and Gideon were dating last summer. “And you were okay with that?!” “Stanley,” Ford scolded lightly, not enjoying the fact that he was assuming Dipper didn’t do anything about it. “No! I tried, but there was no changing his mind.” Dipper defended and crossed his arms over his chest. Stan marched across the room. Ford stood up and asked, “Where are you going?” “To be mad at somebody new!” “Uh, oh.” Dipper said as Stan angry beyond reason. When Mabel heard Waddles scratching at the door, she forced herself out of bed to let him in. He hopped up on the foot of the bed and let Mabel lie her head on him and cry on his soft pink body. She hugged him and cried her heart out, disappointed and feeling stupid for thinking she even had a shot at boxing like her hero. A soft knock came at the door and Mabel looked up to find Stan at the door. She quickly wiped her tears away and her face dry; she didn’t want him to see her cry and think she wasn’t tough anymore. “Hey, everything okay, pumpkin?” Mabel smiled weakly and nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay…” “C’mon, Mabel, you can’t lie to an old conman.” Stan said and sat by the head of her bed. “Plus Dipper told me what happened.” He added, unable to take all the credit on him just being that awesome and smart. Mabel’s eyes filled with tears and she shut her eyes to try to hide it. Stan wrapped an arm around her shoulders and rubbed. “Snitch.” Mabel mumbled, making Stan snort. “I wanted to surprise you, make you proud.” “Whoa, hey,” Stan halted. “First off, I’ll always be proud of you. Always. You’re my little fight, whether you’re on some stupid team or not. That’s sweet that you wanted to surprise me and rub it in my face that you’re way better at boxing than me, but you don’t have to hide anything from me.” Mabel hiccuped a laugh over his little joke and she wiped her tears on her arm, feeling much better. “Thanks, Grunkle Stan.” “No problem, sweetie.” He looked her dead in the eye and asked, “Do you really wanna box?” Mabel wasn’t sure if he was asking because he wanted to make sure she didn’t want to box only to make him proud, or he was about to do something stupid. Either way, she wanted to be honest. She nodded and gave that Pines-gleam in her eye, the one that promised trouble and was fed off of determination, pride, and hard-work. “Yeah, I do. But the coach…” “I don’t care, get your gloves and let’s go.” Stan motioned a hand for her to follow and she did as she was told, following her great-uncle out of the room and eventually out of the house. ~~~~~~~~~~ Luckily the tryouts were only half done when Stan had Mabel’s hand and was walking her back inside the room. Her soft brown eyes found the scary Mr. Boxcoach and her hand tightened around Stan’s. “That’s him.” “I got this.” Stan muttered back. “OY! Veins! You and I need to talk!” Mr. Boxcoach had to whistle a match to stop and he turned to the new arrivals that stood outside his ring. Stan climbed up swiftly and had his hands on his hips, a suave, strong man in a suit looking deadly with cold brown eyes and tight fists just right for throwing a good punch. The atmosphere got ten degrees colder as Mr. Boxcoach realized he had talked badly about Stanley Pines’s girl. “Yes, sir?” He asked casually. “You tell my grandniece she can’t box?!” “Oh, well I was only looking after her…” “Well she doesn’t need you to look after her! She can look after herself and do a better job at it than most grown-ups!” Mabel, meanwhile, was turning pink with pride. “And you’re gonna give her the same chance you would give any other boy!” “Or what?” Mr. Boxcoach snarled. “Or we’re gonna have problems.” Stan growled and even Mabel felt a shiver go down her spine. Despite being the same size, Mr. Boxcoach looked significantly smaller than Stan. Mr. Boxcoach swallowed and then huffed, “Fine. Kid, you’re next. You’ll go against Drake.” “What?!” The pale sandy-haired kid with freckles yelled. He was one of the two already in the ring. “I’m not boxing with a girl!” “Why not, your friend is.” Mabel snapped. Stan swelled with pride and the other boy, a dark-skinned boy with brown curls, “oh”ed with a smile and said he’d fight her. Stan patted her back and said, “I’ll be in the bleachers. Kick their butts.” ~~~~~~~~~~ Ford and Dipper were watching the Used To Be About History Channel when Stan and Mabel came back home with huge smiles on their faces. “Guess who’ll be in boxing matches this summer?” “Mabel, that’s wonderful!” Ford cheered and gave her a hug when she hopped up on his lap in the armchair. “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you.” “Me, too.” And Dipper ruffled her hair from the dino-skull end table. “I knew you’d make the team!” “And I got a date!” Mabel added joyfully and punched the air in victory. “You did?” Ford asked, bewildered how boxing could lead to romance. He looked at his brother for clarification. “She did?” “It was a productive afternoon.” Stan simply said as he hung his suit jacket up. ~~~~~~~~~~ Mabel climbed up into the ring, her hair up in her pink scrunchie and her little butterfly pinning back her hair so she could see her opponent. She wore red and the enemy wore yellow, like gold without the sparkle. She narrowed her eyes and gritted her teeth, taking her stance. The big, nasty boy with crooked teeth snarled at her, ready to take her apart, free to dominate and humiliate a girl, but that wasn’t going to happen. Just before the bell rang, Mabel glanced over to the bleachers and saw her boys screaming and cheering her on. They had painted their faces red with a white stripe down the center and Stan wore his red Hawaiian shirt, Ford his turtleneck solo, and Dipper held a sign that read “GO MABEL GO!” in big red letters with stars all over it and tons of glitter. He cleared his throat mid-shout and coughed up glitter, proof that he had made the sign himself. Mabel grinned and focused on the scummy teenager in front of her. The bell rang.

#GF #gravity falls #boxing #mabel pines #stan pines #everybody love protective stan #artsymeeshee #fanfiction #seriously thank you so much for always making me smile #or cry #that's good too

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raichijin · 4 years

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ukiyo; the floating world. chapter 2.

━━━━━ 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐁 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓.

preface; took me exactly a week to write. possibly the most uneventful, but important in setting up the rest of the story. enjoy ! (also, my first writing post on this account ! awesome.)

word count; 1.6k .

pretty. a pretty boy; with eyes the color of almonds and hair the same shade of rich oaky brown as a morning cup of coffee.

his smile is sweet like creamer, & the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he closes them is cute, too.

a new relationship, perhaps?

you’re so in awe that when you notice his face fall and he’s pulling his hand away, you realize it’s been 15 seconds and you’ve been standing for approximately 30, just staring.

wow, that’s awkward.

“... are you okay?” he asks you again, slower this time.

“i — yeah! totally. i just— i guess i’m just lost?” you look around for anything that could trigger a memory, or even something that looks remotely familiar.

there’s nothing. “yeah, that must be it...ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡᵒˢᵗ.” he tilts his head at you, then smiles a little thinner, with only his lips and no teeth before gesturing towards the classroom door, other hand digging into his pants pocket.

“then i can show you around!” he hastily offers, giving you his arm before you even know his name, and the scary possibility that the ‘you’ in this world might’ve had a more notable presence starts sounding like a reality when your name falls effortlessly from his bubblegum pink lips, a cutesy ‘chan’ accompanying it.

“ah, you know me?”

& while his nose crinkles in a way that’s not cute nor pretty, his smile remains steadfast until he turns away. “well, who doesn’t? our school doesn’t get exchange students too often. especially not ones as handsome as yourself~.” there’s that lilt again. as if he’s trying to make you fall in love with his voice alone, and you might’ve (you are).

“oh! uh, thank you, but-” you both step into the hallway, and the image of a highschool is imprinting itself in your brain. the uniform, the students, teachers, each class room and their individual signs, the kanji that somehow makes sense, and the sudden realization that everything around you is being spoken in spitfire japanese.

you’re speaking it, too.

“i don’t think i know you. what’s your name?”

the cute guy blanches, and suddenly everything seems more interesting to him.

his fingernails, a sudden itch on his nose, and random (read: fawning) passerby.

“um — i’m oikawa! the captain of the volleyball team?” oikawa phrases it like a question, as if you know him; and if he was expecting that flexing that kind of achievement would give him some kind of leeway, he couldn’t be more mistaken.

but for politeness sake, you can pretend to be interested, especially if it means he’d divulge more information about the school.

‘seijoh’ was the name, right? you could probably search it up later. you pat your pockets for the outline of a cell phone, and then realize it might still be in your bag —

fuck, you still haven’t responded. you need to get better with your reaction time.

“oh! that’s cool.” said in a way that does a decent enough job of feigning interest, because his lips quirk back up. “class ended, right? are you gonna go to practice right now?”

“well...” he pretends to ponder the question. “that’s the plan! we should get going, before iwa-chan gets mad at me.”

iwa-chan?

we?

“i — i mean, i would, but i don’t wanna be a bother —” but he’s already taking your hand and pulling you down the hall and out a door, quickly explaining some things you see that catch your eye along the way. before you know it, he’s guiding you towards a different building entirely, where the entrance is crowded by … students? some boys, some girls, some not even wearing the school’s uniform.

and they’re definitely not in any volleyball uniforms, or in anything in relation to sports. so what could they possibly be here for?

a high pitched squeal very quickly answers your question.

“look! he’s here!” the gaggle of students nearly trample you with how fast they surround oikawa, too busy ogling the captain to pay you much mind. you would’ve gotten swept away in the commotion if not for oikawa’s tightened grip around your wrist.

he tries (and fails) to calm down the small crowd huddled around him, but it makes enough noise that it starts to attract the attention from the players inside the gym. some look jealous, unsurprised, and one, standing out amongst the rest. with his lips pulled back into a sneer, sweat dripping down the side of his face, and —

“SHITTYKAWA!” the noise outside quiets down to a few whispers and just as quickly the crowd came in, they clear out, as the nameless begins to approach.

he carries himself high and fast and even if he comes up to a little under oikawa height wise, whoever he is, he clearly has mr. volleyball captain at least bashful.

… didn’t he mention someone who’d get pissy if he was late to practice?

“is that —”

“iwa-chaaaaaan!” oikawa waves his hands absently as a means to placate his friend's temper, and he lets go of you in the process, providing you an ample opportunity to slip back into school, but your feet feel stuck to the floor and you can’t bring yourself to look away from the scene unfolding. this iwa-chan talks to oikawa like he’s his mother. stern with sharp features and a look that could actually kill.

oikawa really fucked up, huh? well, he might’ve not even gotten told if you didn’t pop out of the damn closet though. but it’s too late to apologize, because oikawa’s pointing at you, says something about you being the reason he got held up, and iwa-chan is directing that hard stare at you.

you could melt. if oikawa was pretty, then iwa-chan was handsome. a new love interest perhaps? he seemed hot enough to be one. where oikawa’s smile felt accommodating, iwa-chan’s sneer morphing into an expression of indifference and then slight charm feels more real, and is, in turn, more endearing.

“and you’re the new student? you’re the reason why he’s late?” you nod sharply, and explain how you fell out of the closet… and how oikawa helped you up. he flicks oikawa’s forehead just then, and you laugh, worsened by the kicked puppy expression scribbled all over the captain’s face.

“you’re laughing at this? iwa-chan! cut it out — you’re already rubbing off on them!”

“trashykawa! what the hell were you trying to do with the transfer?” he tugs on his ear like a disappointed parent, but shoots you an apologetic smile.

“i’m sorry you had to deal with him.” oh, you beautiful human, you do not have to be sorry for anything — “i can take him from here — just tell me if this dumbass bothers you again.”

“i wasn’t bothering them i —” iwa-chan glares daggers into him and he concedes, letting himself get dragged into the gym building, his teammates laughing at him, and leaving you behind. they all trail inside before the gym doors close, and suddenly, this area feels pointless.

was this the end of the day?

you go back into the school, backpack slung anxiously over your shoulder. how were you supposed to find the bedroom to save your game if you didn’t even know where your house was? did you miss a cutscene? did you do something wrong?

a distinct buzzing from your backpack halts your train of thought.

you dig through your pack to find your phone, a rectangular brick with a few stickers on it, opening to your fingerprint and showing you text message notifications from one ushiwaka-san.

the third named character you’ve met in a day.

ushiwaka-san: have you reached home yet?

huh. is he your parent? guardian? you don’t know any kid who’d put their fathers name so informally.

you: uh, not quite, no

you: how do i get back? i kind of like

you: forgot

you: my bad dad

ushiwaka-san is … typing !

ushiwaka-san: dad?

ushiwaka-san: what do you mean?

ushiwaka-san is … typing !

ushiwaka-san: whatever.

ushiwaka-san: give me a moment.

you cringe at how badly you misread that, but he eventually sends you the address and instructions on how to get to, where you hope is, home, and with a few pointers from some straggler students, you’re off.

the sun is kissing the hills by the time you’ve reached your destination. your legs are burning from the walk, and you feel like you could collapse on the doorstep if you didn’t know your bed was behind it, decidedly more comfortable than the concrete.

you find some keys in the side pocket of your bag and unlock the door to the house. it looks pretty enough on the inside, but you’re too tired to appreciate the graphics. you just want to save the game and be done with this.

forty dollars for a walking simulator? no wonder your friend didn’t like it. you have to duck into a few rooms before one reminds you of the one they showed you when the game booted up originally. you flop on the bed before you get the sudden urge to look at your phone again.

a notes app has popped up.

you can write your discoveries after a scenario here. useful for remembering important things, like dates, likes and dislikes, etc.

you can access this when not in a scene, occasionally in-between or during class, or when you’re in your room for the night.

it feels like someones projecting their thoughts into your brain, and it kind of hurts, but you keep it in mind for the next time. you can’t even bother to get out of your uniform before it’s like your eyes are shutting themselves, no matter how much you try to force them back open.

the day is ending, and it’s time to save your progress.

you black out.

the void cradles you. a feeling akin to falling asleep yet wide awake, you settle here until the confirmation of a saved game rings vaguely through your head.

then, just as suddenly,

you’re up.

passing the baton to you kat! @letshaikyuu.

𝔱 𝔞 𝔤 𝔩 𝔦 𝔰 𝔱 ; @kingkageyamathegreat, @sayakaaaaaa, @tobubekida-yo @chigigami, @sugacookiies, @macaronnv, @cadekagi

#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #oikawa toru x reader #iwaizumi haijime x reader #hq!!#hq!! x reader #🌩️ L1GHTN1NG_STRIKE5.pdf #ukiyo: the floating world

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mysterioh · 4 years

Text

coming soon...

Pairing: CEO!Bucky x Reader

Summary: You’re a simple girl; kinda stupid with a heart of gold. Lately, you’ve been running on a streak of bad luck and to make things worse you end up denting someone’s car. A very expensive, very shiny, Lamborghini Aventador that belongs to the richest man in New York, James B. Barnes,. And there’s no way in hell he’s going to let you get away with it.

A/N: Hi! This is Noor! So April marks my one year anniversary of writing. And I'm going to celebrate that by revamping my first fic "What I've Been Looking For." (It's atrocious so don't read it.) Thank you to everyone who has given me support in some kind of way. Whether it's through AO3 or here, it all means so much to me. Y'all make a girl wanna cry. 😢

Here’s an excerpt below!

The car alarm pierces through the light breeze wafting through the street.

It was typical for the streets of New York to be noisy. A sort of ordinary for its inhabitants. Screeching tires, hollering vendors, and the rumbling underneath a pedestrian’s feet due to construction was a usual occurrence. But the constant ringing of the same beat dampened the surrounding sounds as if asserting its dominance. Not shy in making every passerby glare and grumble at you.

The alarm rings incessantly in your ear, but it’s just background noise. The sparks in your brain are still trying to process it all. Desperately trying to connect the dots and instead just causing a short-circuit. You stand on the curb next to the parked car, jaw slack and eyes wide; just staring at it.

A watermelon was splattered over the hood of the car. Clumps of green and red were scattered over the black metal, sizzling under the summer sun as juice dripped down the ends and onto the street.

You didn’t know whose car it was, but you had a feeling they wouldn’t be very happy to see their sports car topped with watermelon.

You broke out of your trance and started to panic. You were in enough trouble as it is, you didn’t need more. Your body shook, turning from side to side to see if anyone saw. Of course, people saw, but this is New York and no one cares if you chucked a watermelon at someone’s car. And if no one cares then that means you could walk away as if nothing happened.

A mischievous grin crept onto your face and your eyes narrowed slyly.

“I could just walk away.” you thought.

“But is that the right thing to do?” the angel on your shoulder whispers in your ear.

You sigh deeply and think of your choices.

There was only one right choice.

You turn on your heel and speed walk down the street. “I’m not a good person and I’m totally okay with that.”

“Hey, you!” an angry shout comes from behind. You stop dead in your tracks, refusing to turn around to see the victim of your heinous crime. He pulls on the collar of your shirt and turns you around. “Who the hell do you think you are, huh?” he jeers

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words didn't come. You stared into his steel-blue eyes that were burning with anger. He threw a fit, shouting curses and shaking you back and forth with the hand fisted into your collar. You didn’t know how to respond, everything was slow and warbled.

You’ve just never seen such pretty eyes before.

“What the hell is wrong with you!” he roars, demanding an answer.

“I-I,” you stutter.

“Don’t play stupid with me,” He hisses, pulling you close to his face. You can smell his cologne, something along the lines of agarwood and spice; like old money.

“I saw what you did there! You just threw that watermelon at my car!

You open your eyes wide in shock. “Me? Wha—”

“Buck, calm down,” You peek over his shoulder to see a muscled blond running up to you. “It might’ve been an accident.”

He scoffs at the man’s words. “She wouldn’t be running away if it was!” he directs towards him before turning back to you.

“Listen, brat, I don’t think you’ve realized who you picked a fight with it,” he sneers, “My name is James Barnes.”

Your heart falls. “Y-you mean the rich one?”

“Yeah, the rich one. There isn’t any other one,” he snaps. “I’m the James Barnes,” he states, pretentiously before pointing to the vehicle. “and that’s my car.”

“I-It’s very nice sir,” you compliment.

“Yeah, it’s nice and it costs a lot more than what you’re worth,” he hurls.

Anger rushed through your veins and you pushed him off you. Bucky was taken aback by your sudden change in expression but doesn’t dare show it.

“Who the hell do you think you are telling me what I’m worth?” you spat, pointing at him, “Just because you’ve got a fancy car and a nice suit on doesn’t mean you’re better than me!”

Bucky snorts scornfully. He takes a step closer, towering over you, staring deep into your soul with sharp eyes.

The air around him was regal and rightly so. He was James Barnes after all. The richest man in New York. His touch was power.

You shrink under his condescending gaze, and the spontaneous surge of fire within you begins to dwindle.

“Uh-well...I-I mean—” you mumble, twiddling your fingers and dropping your gaze.

Bucky’s lips curl into a wicked grin. He enjoys shattering one’s spirit. He relishes in their despair.

He takes you by the wrist and pulls you behind him. You yelp, stumbling over your feet.

“Hey!”

“You’re coming with me,” he states flatly.

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” you fight in his grasp, hitting his hand with your free one.

He stops abruptly making you almost crash into him. He smiles wide, lips stretching from one corner to the other showing every single tooth. He chuckles darkly like he’s plotting your death. And there’s only one thought running through your mind at that point.

“I’m screwed.”

TAGLIST: @murdermornings @chuckennuggets1213 @miraclesoflove @undiadeestos @fckdeusername @hailmary-yramliah @marshyrebelcloud @marvelismysafezone

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #ceo!bucky x reader #ceo!bucky au #bucky barnes fluff

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jootsmcgoots · 4 years

Text

MBC Selfshipping Prompts #1: First Dates (Risotto Nero)

WOO BOY so Haley started a weekly Selfship Prompt event over at MBC, and I wanted to write it out! And so I did.

Mind you, this uses my self-insert, Niko, so it’s going to be using that name and female pronouns. This work got away from me, so it ended up being 2422 words (even when I meant for this to be less than 2k words......lmaooo...)

I will get around to posting my reader inserts soon, but not yet LOL I’ll get around to it when I get around to it. This blog is still very much a WIP because I still need to re-reblog a LOT of content from the old blog.

But for now, this is what I’m writing and I wanted to post it up. I may write another for Mista, but we’ll see (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

So as the title implies, this is the first of the prompts, and it’s “First Dates”.

Niko let out a yawn as she sleepily looked out at the busy street. Her eyes scanned the droves of people walking around, trying to scope out her target. Dark eyes blinked as she studied the faces of men nearing her, trying to determine if they were the one she was looking for. When they passed by her, she shrugged internally.

Her phone’s clock read 10:47 AM. She knew they agreed to meet around 11, but it never hurt to be early. “And anyways, better to be early than late, right? Right.” She still couldn’t help getting bored easily, and the anxiety and tension building in her chest continued to rise as the seconds passed.

“Calm down, calm down,” she thought to herself, “It’s just a date; you’ve been on dates before! Just treat it like you’re just hanging out with a friend.” Niko let out the breath she was holding and took her phone out, idly browsing it in order to distract herself. “Plus, it’s Mimi’s brother. There’s no way he’d be the bad kind of sort. She wouldn’t set us up if she thought we weren’t going to get along.”

Still, she had to admit she was surprised when her friend made the suggestion and arrangements. Niko recalled as her friend more or less pushed the aquarium tickets into her hand and snatched her phone to punch in her brother’s contact info.

“It’ll be nice, I promise! He’s a really great guy, and I think you two will hit it off!” Mimi flashed the smaller woman a grin. “Plus, he needs to get out more often.”

Niko’s mouth formed a slight line as she remembered how she had asked her friend for a photo of her date, but Mimi’s grin only grew with amusement.

“Oh, don’t worry about that! You’ll know when you see him.”

A noise of annoyance escaped Niko’s throat. “Dude, what does that even mean?” Her brow creased as she tried to think on what that could have meant, but quickly gave up, deciding it was too much effort. Her eyes absentmindedly left her phone screen to scope out her surroundings again.

Except her eyes bugged out as they fell on a large, foreboding man in dark clothing who towered over most if not all of the other people walking along. Whether by his size or presence, people seemed to naturally get out of his way as he continued making his way down the street. Everything about him exuded a quiet kind of power, from the way he walked, his stern expression, his hulking, muscular frame…

Though she remained completely stock-still, Niko shook her head inwardly. “No, no, maybe it’s not him! Maybe it’s just your regular, big, muscular, scary-lookin’ dude with fucking black sclera and red eyes, just walkin’ down the street for a stroll! All decked out in black and has the kinda expression that says, ‘hey so if you piss me off, I’m going to rip your limbs off’! Totally normal! Yeah! Hahaha!”

However, despite the thousands of thoughts going through her head at miles a minute, Niko knew. Now she understood what Mimi had meant by “You’ll know.” When the man stopped in front of her, it was undeniable that this man was indeed her date.

She could feel red eyes roving over her, studying her. If looks could kill, Niko felt like she would have been smote where she stood from the intensity of his stare alone.

Risotto’s unblinking crimson stare studied the woman before him. She certainly matched the picture and profile his sister had given him. Petite and girlish stature, short black hair that swept to the right, glasses, gold studs in her lobes, everything matched. He noted how she was sporting a mint green frog backpack, just like she’d specified she would so that he could recognize her easier. How thoughtful of her to suggest that in the first place. He couldn’t deny that he appreciated the consideration.

He was an observant man and was well-aware of his perception skills. After all, it was an invaluable skill in his line of work. However even without his sharp senses, there was no missing the look of surprise, awe, and slight fear in his date’s flabbergasted visage. Her eyes were wide, brows raised to the sky and jaw slack, lips seeming to form the beginnings of “Oh my god.”

Risotto let out a nearly imperceptible huff of amusement. His sister was right; this woman’s face hid nothing. He couldn’t help but smile a little at that candidness.

Introductions were short and awkward, but they served their purposes. Once acquainted, the pair could proceed with their date. Their itinerary was rather basic, just go to an aquarium and get some food together. Simple enough.

However, conversation was rather sparse as they made their way to their destination. Without any prior knowledge or known common ground, Niko was unsure of what to talk about, and Risotto was a taciturn individual by nature.

He didn’t dislike the small talk that she was trying to make, asking him things like what he did, what his hobbies were, but it required him to think carefully about his responses. It wasn’t exactly appropriate to vent about how little you were being paid to kill people on a first date.

What were you even supposed to talk about on a first meeting like this anyways? It had been far too long since he had tried connecting with someone new, let alone someone not affiliated with Passione. Though Risotto’s face remained as placid as ever, worry and nerves began bubbling beneath the surface as he picked up on the traces of worry and discomfort on his date’s face, and he wracked his brain for more to say.

He wasn’t alone, though; Niko hardly ever met people like this, usually having some common ground with new conversational partners. Here, she had absolutely no idea. Inwardly, she cursed Mimi for putting them in this awkward situation, wishing a thousand poxes on her friend’s house.

=====

“Eh? You set them up on a date?”

“Yup!” Mimi replied cheerily.

“And it’s a blind date, you said? And she doesn’t know what he looks like?”

Mimi hummed an affirmative as she snuggled up against her boyfriend’s shoulder, black nails clacking against her phone screen as she browsed. Though Kakyoin’s eyes hadn’t left the screen and he had continued dutifully chaining combos, his brows raised in surprise as he made a considering noise.

“Oh dear. She’s in for quite the surprise then.” As the victory logo flashed on screen, he leaned down and planted a kiss on her forehead and smiled warmly at Mimi.

“That’s evil. I love it.”

=====

Arriving to the aquarium was a relief and a salvation to Niko. At least now they could busy themselves with an activity, and that would give them something to do together. Slowly, their conversation became less stiff and stilted, as Niko began prattling off about the various exhibits they toured together. Bit by bit, she continued to come out of her shell as she pulled him from room to room, and by noontime she was babbling nonstop about the penguin feeding exhibit they had just been at.

“…and god, they were just so damned cute!” Her eyes glittered at the memory. “Fun fact, did you know that there was this one penguin that fell in love with an anime character? I’m not kidding!” Niko nodded as Risotto tilted his head at that statement. “Yeah, yeah! His name was Grape-kun and he uh…” Her words petered out, and her expression turned sheepish.

Risotto raised a brow, unsure of why she stopped. “Is something wrong?”

Niko fidgeted in silence for a moment before answering. “I…I just kinda realized that I’ve been dragging you from place to place, and I’ve just been rambling non-stop. It’s – it’s not that…it’s okay if you’re just not one for talking. I totally get that!” she said, waving her hands in front of her before wringing them worriedly. “I just wanna make sure you’re having fun too. Like, I just hope I’m not talking over you or only doing the things I wanna do, y’know?”

She looked up at him to meet his stare. Embarrassment was racking up by the second, and as she was going to open her mouth, he spoke.

“I’ve been enjoying myself.”

Relief flooded her senses. Niko smiled at him as she registered his words, her expression relaxing into something much brighter. He couldn’t help but mirror the expression, even though the corners of his mouth had barely turned upwards.

She clapped her hands together as a thought seemed to dawn on her.

“I know! Was there anything in particular that you wanted to do? Anything here that you were looking forward to?”

At that, Risotto’s eyes widened just the tiniest bit, but Niko had caught it. “There is, isn’t there?” she probed with a mischievous grin. “C’mon, tell me! I’m sure it’ll be nice.”

He averted his eyes, and she chuckled good-naturedly at his sudden shyness. “C’mooon, tell me! We already came all the way out here, so if there was something you wanted to do, let’s go and do it!”

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t turn away from her expression, bright and shining like the sun, with no escape. Risotto let out a mumble, still unable to look her directly in the eye.

“Mm? What was that?” Niko tilted her ear towards him.

“…the manta rays.” He repeated himself, barely louder.

She made the connection in seconds. “Oh! The petting pool with the manta rays!” Niko threw him a grin as he nodded. “Yeah, I gotcha! Let’s go!” And at that, she immediately set off before stopping short and looking behind her, waiting for him. “Come on! It gets really crowded, so let’s head on over.”

The petting pool was a popular exhibit, and it was already full of people, children and adults alike, all fawning over the adorable manta rays that practically jumped out of the water for a petting. Though his face remained as stony as ever, the sparkles in Risotto’s eyes exposed his excitement as the sounds of splashing drew nearer and nearer.

Niko let out a giggle. How cute.

However, he just stood there, staring out at the pool that was so close yet so far. Maybe he felt put off by the number of people there.

Taking matters into her own hands, Niko tried to lead them closer to the pool, but found that the droves of people who were already there difficult to navigate. She managed to bypass a few of them, but soon found it hard to actually get near the exhibit. Her lips curled to the side in annoyance as she tried to think about how to get to the exhibit.

Then, she felt someone take her hand. Niko looked up in surprise to see Risotto by her side, taking her hand gently as he began to wade through the crowd with her in tow, people parting as a hulking 6’8” man strode over to the manta ray pool. No one there decided that it was worth getting in his way, especially as he occasionally let out quiet, polite “excuse me, pardon me”s as he made his way over.

As Niko followed him through the crowd, she had a thought. Throughout the date, he hadn’t tried to make contact with her at all. Now that she thought about it, he had kept a respectful distance from her the entire time.

She let that fact wash over her as they approached the pool. Manta rays were swimming serenely through the clear water, occasionally breaking the surface of the water, excited for more pets.

Risotto had already dipped his hands into the cold water, gently stroking the creature as it passed by. A soft smile graced his features, dimples forming on his cheeks.

The sight was something Niko wanted to commit to memory.

Noticing that she had yet to join him, he removed his hand from the pool to look at his date. What he was met with was a soft, nearly reverent look on her face, dust blushing her cheeks. Upon realizing that he was looking directly at her, Niko gave him an awkward grin, hastily kneeling down with him to start babbling about how cute the rays were.

“…sorry.”

That cut her ramble short. “Huh? About what?”

“I should have asked first.”

His heart was thrumming in his chest as he searched her expression for any change. She looked confused for the barest of seconds before realization lit her features.

“Oh. Oh! That!” Niko quickly took her hand out of the pool, but thought better of shaking her hands in front of her like she usually did. “No, no – don’t worry about that!” She laughed, the sound causing a tentative warmth to blossom in his chest. “I really didn’t mind. It was…it was nice.” She emphasized her point with a shy but honest smile that caused the warmth in his chest to go into full bloom.

His eyes softened at her gentle expression, the soft look on her face looking like the most natural thing in the world. Risotto grunted an affirmative, finding words to be difficult.

As they walked away from the petting pool and dried off their hands, Niko spoke up.

“You know…to be honest, I wasn’t so sure about this. It’s been awhile since I’ve gone on a date, and this was my first blind date. I was ready to kill Mimi!” she admitted with a laugh, miming strangling motions. “No offense.”

“None taken.” His chuckle was nearly inaudible, but she didn’t miss the amusement in his voice.

Her smile grew wide, toothy and easy. “But this was nice. Real nice.”

“It was.” Risotto returned the smile, however subtle the change in his expression was. “I’ll admit this was…an experience. But I enjoyed it.”

At that, Niko laughed lightly and reached out to take his hand. Risotto noted the hesitation in her actions, the pause lasting no longer than a second. But in the end, he could feel his hand in hers, warm and comforting, like that was where it belonged.

He smiled at the feeling.

“Let’s go get lunch?” she asked, tilting her head at him.

His hand tightened around hers, just so.

“Let’s.”

As they walked towards their destination, they discussed restaurants, going over their options and bantering all the way there, the sound of her laughter echoing down the street.

#my self insert #Niko #self insert #self insert prompts #first dates #Risotto Nero #Vento Aureo #jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba #modern AU #aquariums #my writing #SFW #fluff #fluffy #risotto x niko

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sailor-opy · 3 years

Text

Dare to fall (in love): chapter two

Hey look! There is a new chapter for this story! And finally it has a name.

Word count: 5 130 (these chapters just keep getting longer)

Warnings: There is some kissing, does that need a warning? Maybe, if someone isn’t interested in that. Then there is one thing that I think really needs a warning, but I’m not exactly sure how to put it. Maybe internal panicking due to a fear of intimacy?

Previous chapter: Chapter one

Chapter 2

When I wake up, it takes a while for me to remember where I am, but then it comes back to me. I’m at E’s place since last night I had no other option than to stay here and sleep on his couch. It seems that E is still asleep, so I get up and quietly wander around the house. I open the curtains in the living room and notice that it’s raining quite heavily outside. From the kitchen I find a clock and see that it’s already past ten o’clock. I realize that I’m actually rather hungry, and debate whether I should wait for E to wake up or if I could just go and take something from the fridge.

“What are you doing here?”

I startle and turn around when I hear E’s surprised voice behind me. And then I turn right back around again when I realize that E is only wearing shorts and nothing to cover his upper body. Even from my quick glance I was able to see that he was in good shape. Apparently E realizes what made me so flustered and explains apologetically:

“I was going to take a shower when I heard some noises from here, and just through something on to find out what it was.”

Part of me is glad that he did put something on before coming out of his bedroom, but some tiny part wishes he hadn’t. Damn this crush, I feel like I’m getting more and more enamored with E each day, instead of getting over him.

“But seriously, how are you here?”, E asks again.

“Ah, yes, I’m sorry. I don’t know if you remember, but last night Sam gave us a lift when we left from Matt and Jenna’s place. I tried to ask him if he knew where to take us, but he interrupted me before I had even finished the question and assured me that he knew where he was going. I didn’t want to keep going on about that too long after that, because I was afraid he might get annoyed. I don’t think he likes me very much,” I explain and turn around again to face E.

“Don’t mind about Sam. He’s not exactly what you’d call a people person and it takes some time for him to warm up to new people,” E explains to me.

“Well, anyway, when we got here, I got of the car to help you in here. I thought Sam was going to wait for me in the car, but when we were at the door, he just drove away. I would have called me a cab, but my phone had died during the evening, and you were passed out so I couldn’t use your phone or charger. I didn’t know what else to do so I stayed here and slept on your couch. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Why on Earth would I mind? I am a bit embarrassed though. I feel that I haven’t been a very good host for you so far. Are you hungry? The least I could do is offer you something to eat,” E offers.

“Breakfast sounds lovely. But I don’t mind if you want to take that shower and get dressed first,” I say, even though a tiny voice in my head screams that I definitely would mind that. Both because I’m actually quite hungry and because I don’t want to lose that mouthwatering sight of E topless. But I sternly silence that inner voice.

Before going to the shower, E gives me his charger so that I can get my phone working again. I turn the phone on and write a short message to my mum to let her know that yes, I’m still alive. She always gets so worried about me if I go too long between messages while I’m traveling.

“Would you like to take a shower? I could borrow you a towel,” E asks when he reappears in the kitchen.

“Yes, that would be nice. Thank you,” I I answer. I don’t have any clean clothes here to change into, but a shower might at least help refresh me a bit.

After the shower, I find E in the kitchen sitting at the table with a large cup of coffee in his hands. He has set me a cup and a plate across the table from him, so I sit there and start to butter a toast. I take and closer look at E and notice that he doesn’t look very good, even though he tries to hide it.

“Is the hangover bad? It seemed to me that you were almost totally passed out by the time we got here,” I ask him.

“It’s not as bad as it could be. To be honest, I don’t even think I was that drunk last night. I’m a bit ashamed to say that I become sleepy quite quickly when I get drunk,” E explains. ”Though I hope you’re happy with being stuck here for a while. I don’t think I’m up to going anywhere just yet. And anyway, before we can go anywhere, I have to call Matt and ask when he can bring me my car back.”

“A quiet morning is fine by me. The weather seems a bit depressing anyway, so I’m in no hurry to leave the house quite yet,” I reassure him.

After breakfast we spend the next few hours quite quietly watching some reruns of an old sitcom and occasionally commenting something about the episodes. It feels comfortable and natural, like we’d had spent countless days like this already. In the beginning we sat down in the opposite ends of the couch, but quickly we start to gravitate closer together, until I realize that I’m sitting there leaning against E’s chest and he has his arms around me. It’s still raining slightly outside, and I feel like we’re in our own little bubble, just the two of us. I want to stop time and stay in this moment forever. Until my stomach crumbles rather loudly.

“I guess someone is getting a bit hungry,” E teases me playfully and checks his watch. “Well, I guess it is about time we get some lunch. I’m afraid I don’t have much in at the moment, since I wasn’t expecting lunch guests. How about if I call Matt and ask if he could bring me my car, so that we could drive to the town and have something to eat there?”

I agree and after a short phone call E tells me that Matt is on his way. Jenna is doing some shopping in town and Matt tells that he can come with us to meet her there. That way we don’t have to take him back to his place first. He has agreed to meet Jenna at the parking lot in front of a small shopping center. When we step out of the car, we see Jenna already rushing towards us.

“Oh my God, it’s so nice to see you again!” she exclaims and gives me a big hug without even thinking about it. “Have you been all morning here by yourself, since E’s car has been at our place? I thought that I could have asked you come shopping with me today, but I didn’t have your number,” she asks worriedly.

“No, actually she spent the night at my place,” E interrupts before I have time to answer.

“Wait, what?” Jenna exclaims.

“Yeah. By the way, you might wanna teach that brother of your some manners. Not everyone is accustomed to his charms, and it can cause some a bit unfortunate misunderstandings,” E continues to tease Jenna, pretending to be annoyed.

“Oh no. Tell me what happened!” Jenna insists.

“Oh well, apparently during the car ride last night, this one here was trying to make sure that Sam actually knew where he was supposed to take us,” E starts to tell, gesturing towards me, and continues: “Sam assured, in his usual grumpy way, that he did in fact know that, so she didn’t push it more. You see, she’s under the impression that Sam doesn’t like her. Anyway, it turned out that Sam actually didn’t know where she was staying and left while she was helping me into my house.”

“That’s weird, I’m sure I told him where to take you two”, Jenna ponders innocently. I remember that Jenna had teased E about me not staying at his place, so I wonder if she was pranking us by not telling Sam where to take me.

“Oh yes, sure, if you say so”, E mutters sarcastically. Apparently he suspects the same.

“But wait a minute. That doesn’t still explain how she ended up sleeping at your place”, Jenna realizes and gestures towards me. E looks a bit embarrassed, so I jump in and explain the rest of the story of how I ended up sleeping on E’s couch. Then we say goodbye to Matt and Jenna who head back to their car, and we head to the mall to find a restaurant to have lunch.

After lunch it has stopped raining and the sun is shining again. E suggests that we’d go on a short hike to the forest near his house, where there is a nice, easy trail that has great views over the surrounding area, and I agree. On our way we stop by my hotel, so that I can change into something more appropriate, since I’m still wearing the same clothes I put on yesterday for the barbecue.

***

About half an hour later E parks his car by the side of the road near the start of the nature path, and we head to the forest. We follow the path upwards a slope of a hill for a while. The air feels fresh and sometimes drops of water fall on us from the trees that are still wet from the rain. We reach the top of that first small hill and when we continue down the other side, I feel the slippery mud under my start to move. I try my best to keep my balance, but in a blink of an eye I’ve fallen down and rolled down to the ditch by the path.

“Oh my God, are you ok?” E worries when he hurries to me.

“I have few scratches and bruises, but otherwise I think I’m fine”, I reassure E when he helps me up from the ground. But when I try to take a step, I feel a sharp pain in my left ankle. E has stayed right by my side and watches me so attentively that he sees immediately my face wincing in pain.

“What is it?”

“My ankle hurts. I think it might be sprained,” I explain. When I see E’s worried expression I hurry to calm him.

“It’s ok, I don’t think it’s anything too serious. Look, I can stand on it just fine. I’ve sprained my ankle like this before, and I just need to keep something cold on it for a while, and then it simply needs some rest. I probably won’t be hiking any more during this vacation, but trust me, it’s nothing serious and I’ll be fine in no time.”

“I think I should still take you to the hospital, just to be sure.”

“I’d prefer if you took me somewhere where I can take a shower and wash all this mud off of me.”

E helps me get back to the path. There E offers to carry me back to his car on piggyback, but I refuse. I argue that the path is still slippery and if he falls down, we might both end up hurting ourselves even more. He grudgingly agrees with my reasoning and we start our slow return to his car.

*** And so, I find myself in E’s bathroom for the second time that day. After helping me to his bathroom and leaving me a towel and some of his clothes to change into, he left me to clean up myself and went to look for some first aid supplies to tend my injuries. I wash all the mud off me, I wrap myself in the towel and step out of the shower. E has left me one of his t-shirts and gym shorts to wear. They are both way too big for me, but my only other option are the wet and muddy clothes I had on earlier. I glance at the pile of my dirty clothes in the corner of the bathroom and debate whether I should do something to them. My ankle is really starting to ache though, and I just want to sit down and rest it, so I decide to deal with them later.

I get dressed and limp out of the bathroom to look for E. I find him in the kitchen where he has laid out all kinds of first aid supplies on the table. When he turns to look at me, I suddenly feel very self-conscious about how I look. In general, I think myself as average-looking at best, but wet hair, no makeup and ill-fitting, borrowed clothes isn’t really my best look. And even though I have no reason to think that E would be interested in me, I’d like to look good around him.

E moves towards me to help me walk, but I wave him off and hobble towards the table on my own. E has really been hovering over me ever since my accident, and I feel really conflicted about it. On the other hand, it feels so good to have him take care of me. I would just want to let myself sink into it, and simply enjoy being taken care of. On the other hand, I have to constantly remind myself that I shouldn’t get used to it, and that it doesn’t mean what I would like it to mean, so it might be better to not have it at all. That’s why I try to ease his worrying by acting as normally as I can, to convince him that my injuries really aren’t that serious and that I can manage on my own.

“Hop on here,” E says and pats the table when I get to him. I push myself to sit on the table and E starts to go over my wounds, cleaning them with disinfectant and putting plasters on the bigger scrapes. Then he moves his attention to my injured ankle. He pulls a chair in front of me and sits down to get a closer look. He crabs a bandage that he starts to wrap around my foot and ankle to help with the swelling and to give some support when I walk. Then E holds my foot in his other hand, and grabs something cold wrapped in a towel and presses it against my ankle. All this time neither of us says a word, and I just observe what he’s doing. I feel weird tension between us, and it makes me nervous. Even when I try to come up with something to say, it feels like all my words get stuck in my throat. Finally E lifts his face to meet my eyes.

“Now, are you sure you don’t need to go to the hospital? You didn’t hit your head or anything like that that should be checked over?”

“No, I’m fine, really,” I say and smile reassuringly. And I’m not saying that just to stop E from worrying either. I might be slightly aching and sore all over my body, but I don’t feel anything more alarming.

“Do you need any painkillers?”

“All I need is a quiet night in, resting my foot.”

“Ok, good.”

We both fall silent after that for a while.

“What’s in there?” I ask and nod towards the towel bundle.

“Frozen peas,” E says, smiling a little.

“I hope you didn’t have any great plans for them,” I joke apologetically.

“Nothing I couldn’t sacrifice for the greater good,” E says nonchalantly. Oddly, I get the feeling that he’s only half joking. Then he glances at the clock and puts the towel, with the peas, back to the table.

“I think that’s enough for now. We don’t want you getting any frostbites, do we?” he says gently and lets go of my foot.

I feel the tension rise anew and words get stuck in my throat once again. E stands up and moves his chair away, but doesn’t step back himself. He seems to be impossibly close, and I don’t know where to look. Some of my hair have fallen in front of my face and E surprises me by gently brushing them back behind my ear.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he whispers.

“Wha…?” I stutter and look up to E’s face to see his small smile and soft expression. I feel like I’m not sure what’s happening, and the whole situation has suddenly become a bit surreal.

“What the hell, I’m just going to say it,” E mumbles under his breath, and then continues louder: “I was going to tell you this today, at a viewpoint along that hiking trail actually. It’s a beautiful place and I thought it would make it more special. Anyway, I’m rambling now.” E stops and takes a deep breath.

“I like you. I mean more than as a friend.”

“No. Are you teasing me? Is this some kind of joke, to see if you can make me believe you?” My brain refuses to believe what E is saying.

“No, this isn’t a joke. I really meant what I said,” E assures me with a serious expression.

“I don’t understand…” I whisper weakly.

“I haven’t said anything earlier, because I wanted to be sure about my feelings first. But now that you’ve been here, it has become clear to me that I really am attracted to you,” E explains. “Now, the most important question is, have you ever thought that you could be interested in me?”

I feel a big, uncontrollable smile spread on my face. I’m too excited to form words, but I nod eagerly. E smiles widely too and leans even closer to me. He lifts his other hand to caress my cheek, while he leans to the table with the other.

“Could I kiss you?”

And just like that, I’m nervous again. The smile drops from my face and I instinctively flinch back. For a moment, neither of us moves or says a word. Then E sighs and looks away.

“Well, I guess that answers my question,” he says, disappointment clear on his face, and starts to move away from me.

I feel a new wave of panic wash over me, when I realize that E has completely misunderstood my reaction. Though in hindsight, it’s easy to see why. Frantically I crab a hold of his shirt to stop him from moving away. Then I pull him closer, wrap my arms around him and hide my face against his chest. For a couple of seconds E just stands there, but then he carefully wraps his arms loosely around my waist. For a while we just stay there, perfectly still.

“You know, I’m getting a bit mixed messages here,” E laughs gently, but clearly confused. I take a deep breath and lift my head of E’s chest, so that he can hear more clearly what I’m going to say. It still feels like there is a lump in my throat that stops my words from coming out of my mouth, but I know that I simply have to explain my behavior. But I can’t look E in the eyes yet.

“I just needed a bit time to get my head around all this. I had no idea that you might be interested in me, so it took me by surprise,” I explain quietly.

“Oh, really? I feared I might have made it quite obvious. Jenna at least has been teasing me about it for ages already, though to her I have tried to deny it.”

“Well, when it comes to things like these, I really need it spelled out for me. With you, I just thought you were being kind and friendly with me,” I explain and finally lift my gaze to meet E’s eyes, with an embarrassed smile on my lips.

“And to answer your question: yes, you can. Kiss me, I mean. If you still want to,” I say feeling a bit nervous again, but this is different kind of nervousness. Good kind that makes butterflies fly in my stomach instead of earlier panic that made me freeze. I try to turn my face away, but E gently grabs a hold of my chin and lifts my face so that I’m looking in his eyes.

“I definitely still want to,” he growls, just before he presses his lips against mine. Our first kiss is sweet, gentle and absolutely too short in my opinion. I’m embarrassed by the desperate little noises I make when E pulls back, but he just smiles adoringly at me and pulls me to sit closer to the edge of the table. Now E is standing between my thighs and our chests are almost touching. Then he leans closer and kisses me again, this time more passionately. He also lets his hands to wander around my body. The kiss just goes on and I lose all track of time. I feel like I’m in Heaven.

I crash back to reality, when I realize that E’s wandering hands are sliding up my thighs and under the legs of the shorts I’m wearing. My whole body tenses, I break the kiss and then, reacting instinctively again, I grab a tight hold of his wrists to stop his hands. I keep staring at our hands to avoid looking at E, because I’m afraid of what his expression might tell me.

“What’s the matter?” E asks, confused by the sudden turn of events.

“I want… so much,” I close my eyes, hoping it would make it easier to get the words out, “ ...to do so many things with you… But it feels like everything is happening so fast. And I don’t usually do things like this. So I’m a bit nervous.”

‘A bit nervous’ is probably the understatement of the year, because honestly I feel almost like paralyzed by fear. I have been dreaming about something like this happening with E for so long, but never believed that it could come true. So now that against all my expectations it is happening, I’m afraid I might ruin everything by doing or saying something wrong. But at the same time, I’d really like us to slow down.

“It’s ok, we don’t have to hurry. We have all the time in the world,” E assures me. “And I’m not expecting anything,” he continues, probably guessing what I was trying to say with my disorganized rambling.

I slowly loosen the death grip I have of E’s wrists, and he lifts his hands to rub gently my shoulders.

“I hope you know that we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he says solemnly. I nod, because I do know that. And I trust E to listen to me and respect my wishes. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. So I can’t really explain why I’m still behaving like this.

“Good,” E sighs and pulls me in a hug. He rubs my back and slowly I start to relax again.

“I kind of liked the kissing though,” I whisper playfully to his ear.

“Oh, really?” I can hear the teasing smile in his voice and then he pulls back just enough that I can see it too.

“You know what? I kind of liked it too. So I guess we could just keep doing that then,” he continues and gives me one long sweet kiss. “But how about if we move this to the couch? There we might both get a bit more comfortable.”

I nod and push myself down from the table. I manage to take only a couple of steps towards the living room before I feel E’s arms wrap around my waist and his body pressing against my back.

“E!, What are you doing? We can’t walk like this,” I ask laughing.

“Too bad, because I’m not letting you go. I want to have you as close as possible, now that I can.”

Walking like that with my sprained ankle isn’t easy, but slowly we fumble to the living room. On our way there, E starts to pepper my neck and the side of my face with small kisses, which quickly turn to more heated ones when he notices that I clearly enjoy them. When we get to the couch, E sits down first and pulls me to sit on his lap.

“Now, where were we…?” he ask flirtatiously and I lean in for another kiss.

***

I have totally lost a track of time again since we got onto this coach. We have spent the evening alternating between intensive snogging and talking about anything and everything. At some point we have moved to laying on the coach side by side. At the moment E has propped himself up on his other elbow and he’s looking down at me. E seems incapable of keeping his hands off of me and so his other hand is running gently up and down my arm and side. He’s obviously thinking something.

“Do you always go silent and distant when you’re nervous?” he finally asks.

I’m quite taken aback by the fact that he’s paid so much attention to me that he has noticed that.

“Yeah, I guess so. Most of the time at least. Or maybe in certain situations,” I try to explain. “I don’t do it on purpose, but if I feel like I don’t know what I should do or say, I freeze and am incapable of doing anything.”

“Ok, that’s good to know. Is there anything particular that makes you feel that way?”

“Some times new or unexpected things make me nervous. Most of the time it’s because I’m not sure what other people are expecting of me. Or I might feel that I should do one thing but I’d actually really want to do something else and I’m unable to decide between them. And if there is someone waiting for me to answer, that added pressure doesn’t really help me think at all, so I end up freezing even harder. It feels like my brain is running overdrive but at the same time not a single thought is moving in my brain.”

E leans down and kisses me gently on my cheek.

“I hope that you would always feel comfortable to tell me what you want instead of what you think you should say or what you feel I’m expecting or wanting to hear.”

“I know. I promise I’ll try at least,” I mumble against E’s chest. Then a thought suddenly occurs to me.

“By the way, what time it is?”

E looks at his watch.

“Oh crap, it’s already past eleven.”

“Is it really that late already? Don’t you have to go to work tomorrow? Maybe I should head back to the hotel,” I say and sit up. E quickly follows me and puts his hands on my hips.

“Please, don’t go yet,” he pleads and kisses me on my shoulder. “You could even… maybe stay here for the night?” he suggests carefully.

I can feel a few tendrils of nervousness begin to rise within me after E’s suggestion, but they are nowhere near as overpowering as the ones earlier in the day. I’m definitely not against the idea, but at the same time I feel a bit apprehensive.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” I say hesitantly, “I don’t even have my pyjamas here.”

“I could borrow you something to sleep in,” E quickly counters my argument. “And if it makes you feel better, I could even sleep on the couch. I just want to spend as much time with you as possible.”

I lean against E’s chest and he patiently waits for me to take a stock of how I’m feeling about this idea. On the other hand, going back to the hotel would be sticking to the plan, and in some sense a safe option. It’s what I was expecting to happen tonight. But on the other hand, I would actually really want to stay here. Finally I come to a conclusion.

“Ok,” I say and press a quick kiss on E’s lips. “But I stay on the couch.”

“I’m fine with anything, if it means that you’ll stay,” E breathes and pulls me into a hug.

***

Later that evening E offers to give another shirt of his, but I decide that I can sleep in the clothes I’m already wearing. The mechanics of his sofa bed are quite stiff, and E struggles somewhat to get it open, but in the end we manage to make me quite a comfy looking bed for the night. I feel slightly awkward when E kisses me good night and leaves me alone in the living room, but I try my best to get comfortable in my bed.

I keep tossing and turning, but there is something bothering me and preventing me from falling asleep. I realize that I feel disappointed with the current situation somehow. In the end, I come to the conclusion that staying on the couch was still a safe option and I was too afraid to do as I really wanted earlier. In a fit of determination I throw off my blanket and limp to E’s door. After a careful knock he opens the door wearing only boxer briefs. I hadn’t considered about that and the sight makes my brain short-circuit and most of my determination disappear.

“I-I was thinking… maybe I could… after all…” I stumble and gesture towards his bed.

“Do you want to sleep here?” E asks.

I can only nod. E takes a hold of my hand and leads me to his bed. We lay down, and E turns off his table lamp. Then he wraps his arms around me and pulls me close to him.

“I’m sorry I made you pull out the sofa bed for nothing,” I whisper into the darkness.

“Hey, it’s ok, you just needed a bit more time to think this through. And you’re always allowed to change your mind, I don’t mind that. Especially if it means that I get to have you here with me,” E whispers to my ear and then kisses my cheek. “Now, let’s sleep.”

“Alright. Good night.”

“Good night.”

#my fic #my writing #original writing #original character #first person pov #first person narrative #first person perspective #original content #original story #writing #fiction #romance #multi chapter #MY OCs #secret crush #dare to fall (in love)

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curse-of-the-dark-emerald · 4 years

Text

Curse of the Dark Emerald, chapter 1

Author's Notes: Hello everyone this is my first time writing for Sonic and tackling the idea of Sonic in the movie verse as a Werehog because since watching the film I think myself and a lot of others have been egging (no pun intended xD) to have a shot at this. So I hope as my first time it comes off good and not too terrible! Apologies for any story mistakes! Please enjoy and keeping it at around PG-13 rated.

...

Tom Wachowski unlocked the door to his house, his body slumped involuntarily as he entered, it was a long, and dull uneventful day. He was tired from doing the usual patrolling of Green Hill and not much happened, which was pretty typical. Ozzy, his beloved golden retriever didn’t waste time greeting his owner and stood on his back legs lurching his upper body on Tom in the form of a hug.

“Hey, Oz! Good boy!”

Ozzy manages to leave a lick of drool on his face and instantly after receiving the affection, he settles down and sits at Tom’s feet. A neon, blue line zipped behind Ozzy.

“Hey, Donut Lord! You’re back!”

A young, blue hedgehog jumps onto Tom’s chest and and embraces him into a hug, Tom could feel his quills against his head bristling. Sonic’s cheeks were blushing from the joy to see his best friend back home. Electric green eyes meet Tom’s.

“Hey, bud, good to see you.” Tom returns the hug and gently drops Sonic to the floor.

Sonic rests his fists on his sides, “You bring anything cool back? Like some food?” Sonic makes the brightest smile at Tom.

“Sorry, bud. Not this time.” Tom chuckled at Sonic, knowing him he was thinking he’d brought home a take out meal for free.

Sonic groaned, “Aww come on! I haven’t had a chili dog in like, forever!” He folds his arms and huffs at Tom.

“Hi, Tom.”

Maddie appears and made her greeting with a peck on the cheek for Tom. “Don’t worry about him, he’s been good today.”

“Oh I’m not worried about that,” Tom took off his coat and put it on the coat hanger, ''But I’m more worried about Mr. Flash here getting too fat, for sure!” He teases.

Sonic laughs, but pauses; and he furrows his eyes, “Hey!”

“Did you take your nap, earlier, Sonic? Tom gives Sonic a pat on his head before walking past him and going into the kitchen.

“Of course I did!” Sonic rolled his eyes.

“I made some soup and breadsticks, so no hot dogs Sonic.” Maddie winked at Sonic, she knew his bribery at Tom had failed.

“Yeah, yeah ,okay.” Sonic sighed in disappointment, and took a seat at the table.

“Hey Sonic, how’re your muscles feeling?” Maddie finished bringing all the utensils for Tom and Sonic and sat down, grinning at the hedgehog.

“Really sore.” Sonic moans a little and rubs his back, “That workout was a killer yesterday, I don’t think I’ll do it again.”

Both of them laughed to each other, Maddie took her turn to tease him.

Tom smiles to himself warmly, his job may be dull at times but it was a different story here at home, which he didn’t mind. He always felt happier and lighter seeing Sonic as the new member of the household, officially welcomed after he and Maddie made him his own room in the attic. That was only a few weeks ago, and October was just around the corner. Tom and Maddie had already mentioned to Sonic about Halloween, which of course the little hedgehog was excited for, but that would be discussed later on.

Sonic was his usual chipper self, talked about his day but also made sure to let his guardians speak as well. Which he was getting better at. Tom let himself to the daily newspaper while Sonic and Maddie made small talk, turning the thin pages from time to time, reading the daily funny comics, then the weather, then he remembered he forgot to even look at the front page, the title in black, bold letters read

“Trick of the Eyes? Or the new Montana’s “Northern Lights?”

“Woah..”

Tom scans over the slightly blurred picture below the main headline, which was in color thankfully; showing that in the next town over, there were sights of odd, but dazzling green and blue rays reminiscent of the northern lights anyone was familiar with in the Northern continents, but different.

“Hey, wanna see something cool?”

Sonic’s lime-green orbs lit up at Tom, “Yeah, sure, what’s up?”

Tom folds the paper for him to see better, “Looks like you might not be the only alien thing around,” he jokes.

But the moment Sonic looked at the picture of the headline, his eyes went sharp and into a trance, he gingerly took the paper, read it over and didn’t say another word. Sonic’ss mouth hung agape a little, but made no sound.

Maddie and Tom glanced at each other, not knowing when or what to say at first, but Tom beats her to it, “Sonic? What’s the matter?”

Sonic blinked his eyes and finally made his gaze at them, “I’m okay! It really is cool, Tom.”

Sonic almost couldn't finish his sentence and was interrupted by a yawn. He shook his head to fight the sudden sleepiness.

“Are you all done with your food?” Maddie began taking dishes to the sink.

“Yep, I’m done.” Sonic gently pushed his plate away and got down, heading for his room.

Tom still kept watch on Sonic’s expression the whole time, he could tell the young hedgehog has something lingering in his mind, behind that smile. But, he thought, I’ll give him his space for now.

“Good night, Sonic!” Maddie gently shouts so she could overpower the sound of clinking dishes and running water.

“Goodnight!” Sonic makes a hasty wave at Tom and dashed to his room, opening the floor boarded door and closing it behind him.

“Ugh, I gotta..go..!”

Sonic fumbles with his words and thoughts, trying to think and properly conjure the crazy idea that he was about to do,

“That story in the paper...it felt so weird...and it's bugging me…”

Sonic tosses all his belongings that were on the floor which were just left scattered around messily, looking for the most important things to him, his brain couldn’t remember where he put them, until he checked the drawers and instantly, his pouch of Rings were there in his stash of socks.

“Cool beans, I gotcha! Now, I should...UGH I gotta go now! No no no, calm down and slow down, I can’t just go there yet…”

Sonic took a sharp breath in, and slowed his brain down to think more clearly, “I have to wait until they’re asleep. So they don’t worry.”

It was finally settled on what he had to do. While he waited for Tom and Maddie to get to bed and sleep, he made his quick preparations on what to take for this short journey to the town outside of Green Hill. Sonic looked out the upper window of his room, a near full moon glistened it’s face downwards with it’s light.

“Backpack, check. Flashlight, check.”

Sonic grabbed his Rings, took one out and held it firmly in his hand, and stashed the rest into his bigger bag. Happy with his things, he took a step towards the door,

A rustle of noises was heard outside, he whipped to see what it was from and thought he also saw a pair of red eyes peering from the same window. The years of old paranoia washed over and Sonic quickly checked outside on the roof, and he found nothing about that could be spying.

“Come on, let’s go already.” Sonic griped at himself to get going, shook his head, and went to his door, the house lights below were off and a dark staircase greeted him.

Sonic quietly tiptoed to Tom and Maddie’s room, and he was happy to find out his timing was good, they were preparing to go to sleep, but they spoke amongst themselves in their room which muffled both voices a little bit.

“He had a weird reaction to that story from the paper, you think he’s okay?”- Maddie

“Not sure, but it might not be that big of a deal.”-Tom

A sigh was let out from one of them, though Sonic couldnt see who it was.

“You’re probably right, but I’m...a little worried.”

Tom took the covers and slipped on the bed, “I’ll admit I am a little too, but for now if Sonic wants to tell us what it is, let’s just wait.”

Sonic’s chest tightened, he felt a little guilty for what he was about to do and rethinks if telling both of them would be best, but he was happy to hear they were so concerned about him.

“Okay, Tom. I don’t want to press him either, but you’re totally right.”

They’ll be fine.

Sonic had heard just enough to put himself at ease, he heard the bedroom become silent not long after, that was the que to make his move.

He promised to himself, “I’ll be back before the sun comes up.”

Sonic went back upstairs to his room, took the golden ring in hand, tossed it and a whirl of energy and wind blows, the ring showcases a sea of green pine trees on the other side,

“Nothing wrong with a little adventure, right?” Sonic rubbed his gloves together, his nervousness had vanished with the thought of what could be on the other side, waiting for him.

He goes in and the ring closes. His room was now vacant. Until an arm pulls down the window pane on the ceiling...

A black clothed person carefully props himself to the floor, wearing red tinted goggles on his head and a black beanie to mask himself.

“Whew, close one.”

After getting his balance, the man moves his goggles up his face, Agent Stone had been following his target for the last few days. He scans the room for anything he could use to further his plans into action, the execution to start could now begin.

“What now..? Oh..?” Stone’s eyes catch onto something interesting,

A single gold ring glowed on the floor, he grinned playfully at the item, studying it.

“He used this to disappear? Hmm..”

He barely moved his fingers and the ring slips from his grasp, clumsily it falls back on the floor, opening a portal.

“Woah, what the-?” Stone stepped back, startled.

From what he could see it was the same place his target took off to, green forests of trees and he saw large footprints from where Sonic was headed.

“No time to waste, then.”

He had his mission to fulfill, and he took the jump inside the ring, and it closed from behind. Stone looked back expecting the bedroom to be there, but it wasn’t. Stone went into focus and followed Sonic’s footsteps.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic the hedghog movie #sonic unleashed #sonic #sonic fanart #sonic the werehog #sonic fanfiction

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