#but what's more disorienting than suddenly waking up in the past :D

[fortune-maiden]

“Jin-gongzi!” a voice he hadn’t heard in over a year suddenly called out. Mianmian, his oldest truest friends, ran towards him in white and gold accented robes. “Jin-gongzi, are you alright? Forgive me for not being more attentive.” “Mianmian…” there were a million things he wanted to say to her. How could he begin to explain this? “I don’t understand how… but I’ve come back. Back from the dead – no from the future.” Behind him, the Jiang siblings and Wei Wuxian poked their heads out. “I’m sorry Mianmian, but he woke up an idiot,” Wei Wuxian said gravely. “He was hit pretty hard,” Jiang Wanyin was sympathetic. “He called me ‘A-Li’,” Jiang Yanli was blushing.

I don't really like how today's Sicktember prompt turned out... but I do like this bit xD

#don't mind me having a moment #fortune's fanfics #the prompt was confused/disoriented #i was originally going to do something with a concussion #but what's more disorienting than suddenly waking up in the past :D #(with a concussion because wwx had kicked a ball into his younger self's head whoops) #mdzs #jin zixuan

[bellatrixobsessed1]

The Rising Lady

Pair: Alcina/The Duke

Summary: Alcina, in the middle of her growth spurt, struggles to get used to her size and the gawking and commentary that comes with it. She finds common ground with The Duke who also seems to draw many stares. (AU Where Alcina knew the Duke before her mutation.)

AN: This is another experimental piece. Warning for fat shaming.

Sometimes she wishes that she could be more like The Duke. The way that he handles things with a jest and a hearty chuckle. He is hard to phase and words seem to roll right off of him. For it, he is a lucky man. 

Perhaps it is that he is used to the remarks and the stares. 

At best, Alcina finds them rude. At best she can offer them a scowl and comment on the impoliteness of their ogling. Mostly it makes her uncomfortable. Mostly she finds herself shifting and squirming in her chair. People never paid her much mind before, not after Miss D put down her microphone and retreated back into the shadows of her castle to endure her faulty genetics. 

She is a quiet woman and was perfectly content to be an unremarkable one to boot. Sometimes she thinks that it was a mistake to trade disease for…

She stares down the extended length of her body…

For whatever this is.

She is a large woman and sometimes she still feels growing pains. Every now and then they shoot up and down her spine, along her arms and legs. Her chest and rear ache with it and on occasions, her belly. And on the worst of days she can feel the tingling sensation of  the mutation in her face. On the most unbearable days it is an all over pain--on these days she grows most noticeably. 

On these days she is on the floor screaming, tears streaming down her face as she begs her body to settle. 

Sometimes she doesn’t think that she will stop growing. She doesn’t know what she will do when she is too tall to even duck under the doorways. She has to get new clothes, a new bed, new chairs…

And every time she does, she grows taller still. It isn’t becoming on her in the slightest. It is grotesque and sickening. 

And to delicately salt a rapidly widening wound, stretchmarks have begun to decorate her chest, thighs, and tummy. Perhaps when she was some two decades younger, she thought herself attractive. She thinks that her beauty has waned since then, it was bound to…

But this? This is stealing from her the last fragments of her youth and an unhealthy portion of her confidence. And this time she is finding it difficult to put on a bolder facade. Truth be told she is terrified. She doesn’t know what she is becoming.

She is too big for her own skin. Her body is too big for the mind locked within it. And these days if feels like one very spacious prison. 

She catches a glance of The Duke sitting on the other end of the ballroom. She wonders if the man had ever felt the same. She has known him for many years. She knew him when he was merely a boy. She knew him when he was much slimmer. Relatively speaking anyhow. She supposes that people always stared at him, have always had some comment to make about his size. 

And maybe this is exactly why it bothers him none. 

The village folk stare at him too. “How does that tiny cart hold up such a large man?” They ask. 

“That’s no man, that’s a…” cow, hippo, elephant, bull--Alcina wonders which they will pick this time. 

“I think even elephants ain’t that big.” Responds another man. “That thing could kill an elephant, I reckon.” 

And somehow, Alcina finds herself furious on his behalf. Furious where he only chuckles and says, “Just give me a chance and good footwear and I can wrestle a rhino with my bare hands!” 

Maybe this is why he is left well alone after the initial remark. Of she and her transformation they say more unpleasant things, crass and vile things. Things that she doesn’t like to repeat even privately to herself. 

She no longer feels right in her body, if she had ever felt secure in it at all. And sometimes she feels like an object. They make her feel like an object between their open stares, their routy whistling, and their constant remarks.

Somewhere down the lines she stopped being Miss D. And then she stopped being Alcina Dimitrescu. She is now, ‘the big lady’, ‘the tall lady’. 

Alcina burrows deeper into her coat, she tries to anyhow, only to find that she has grown even further. Alcina closes her eyes and very silently begs her coat to just fit, but she can’t seem to reach it across  her bosom, much less get it to button up. Perhaps she is, in her dismay, only imagining it, but her shoes feel tighter and when she looks down she can swear that her legs are longer still. Hadn’t her coat reached past her knees only moments before? 

She has gotten quite used to waking up to find herself less comfortable in her bed and night gown. But this? She hasn’t ever grown before her very eyes. 

And she feels nothing at all. 

She wishes that a soreness or a burning sensation would accompany her growth. At least then she would know for sure that her mind isn’t playing tricks on her. She hasn’t even that sort of reassurance. 

She has reached eight feet now. 

Eight dizzying, disorienting feet. 

“Look at the big lady!” The girl can’t be older than twelve. “She’s even bigger now!” She doesn’t draw her brother’s attention but also the attention of nearly the entire market square. Everyone should like to take a gander at the strange, big lady. 

At least now she knows that it isn’t her imagination. 

Her clothes suddenly feel much too tight for her, much less breathable. She isn’t sure if it is a physical sensation or the product of anxiety that grows at a rate faster than her body. She hugs her arms around her chest. She was a fool to trust Mother Miranda. 

Beautiful, youthful, and healthy Mother Miranda, who has swapped one of her torments for a new one. 

At least a blood disease is rather common. At least it is expected of a Dimitrescu woman. This...she clutches herself tighter…is unnatural. This is...

“Good evening m’lady.” The Duke greets. She feels the bench dip under the weight of him and frets that it will splinter under their combined weight. “Having a dreary evening?”

Alcina nods, “I can’t leave my castle without getting stared at.”

“Aye...of course they are staring, you are a beautiful lady, Miss D.” 

She clears her throat. “You are a charming man.” She notes. “But I don’t think that, that is why they’re staring at me.” 

He offers a sympathetic chuckle. “Yes, perhaps not.” He shifts from side to side, it takes her a moment to realize that he is feeling for a lighter in his side pockets. Upon finding it, he plucks a cigar from his chest pocket. “Fancy a smoke?”

“A drink would be more helpful.” She confesses. 

“You’ll make me waddle all the way back to my stall?” 

“If you’ll be so kind, Duke.” 

For only a moment, the time that it takes him to walk to his stall and back, attention is taken from her. Her heart aches for the man; he’s a strange one but a good natured one. Perhaps the only gentleman left in this damnable town. And they treat him with such disrespect and mockery. It isn’t enough to rudely gawk. No, they also have to mimic his wide gait and make attempts to shove him over. 

By God, were she him she would shove them down and crush them. He could be quite a punishing force were he a cureler man. She wonders how long it will take before the villagers make a game of trying to topple her. She wonders how long it will take before she grows sick of them and tests her own strength. She can’t imagine that this body is just for show. It isn’t as frail an delicate as the one she’d had before. 

“You gonna share with the lady or is that all for you?” She hears someone quip.

“If it was for me there’d be a lot more food than this!” He declares proudly. He comes back with a bottle of wine and a raspberry spongecake. 

“You spoil me, Duke.” She takes the treat. 

“You have been having a troubling week, Lady Dimitrescu. I thought that I would bake something special for you.” He takes a drag from his cigar. 

She could very much use special. It is nice to feel special and sometimes the Duke makes her feel just that. “How do you do it?” She inquiries. 

“Hmm?”

“How do you put up with all of the leering and commentary.” 

“Truth be told, m’lady, I’ve been hearing it my entire life. Remarks lose their impact when you’ve heard the worst of them incessantly.”

Incessant. That is a good word for what the remarks are. “At least they aren’t constantly salivating over your chest, Duke.”

“You would be surprised, m’lady. They might fancy my chest more than yours.” He wiggles his brows. 

“You disgusting oaf.” She grumbles. 

He only laughs louder, it is the deep and booming sort. “I jest.” He says, wiping a tear from his eye. “Honest, I just.” 

Alcina sighs, “you jest too much for you own good, I think.”

“Perhaps so.” He replies. His expression growing suddenly and uncharacteristically dim. “But if I didn’t jest, I don’t know that I’d be able to smile at all.”

“That’s how you do it.” She nods. “You make jokes so that they cannot.” 

“It’s a learned skill.” He confirms. “You won’t need comedy, Miss D. You have sophistication and a pretty face.”

She thinks that her pretty face may be part of the problem. A double edged sword that brings her a last scrap of confidence at the same time as it seems to attract the most dull of men. “My face isn’t what troubles me, Duke.” 

The man nods. “I can imagine. You have changed. And not slowly either. It must be difficult to adjust.” 

“Yes.”  She takes another dainty nibble of her cake and a less than refined swig of wine. 

“Well those simpletons would do well to respect you. I mean look at you…” she tries not to do that. “You can break any one of them.”

“Why haven’t you? Crushed one of them I mean.” 

“I could but then I’d be down a customer. They have a lot to say until I tell them that the shop’s closed and they’ll have to get their wears elsewhere. They’re all gentlefolk then. Hell, they’re even willing to pay double.”

“At least someone in this town has intellect.”

“And it’s all right here.” He chuckles with a sturdy pat to her knee. 

Her face flushes lightly, “it isn’t quite as lonely when you make your rounds, Duke.” She doesn’t feel quite so freakish when he is around. And maybe it is that they are very like each other. They are both big people. Perhaps the both of them have outgrown this loathsome village. If only fleetingly, she wonders what it would be like to escape it with him. To find a new place and live out the rest of her days in the man’s company. But then she comes back to herself and she knows that she cannot. She is an oddity in this village, a thing to marvel at in a place teeming with bizarre things and curiosities. To stray to another? Impossible. 

A silence falls between them. He watches smoke lazily drift up to the sky and she, for what must be the hundredth time, studies and scrutinizes her body. Tries to make herself comfortable in a chair that is meant for people several feet shorter. Tries to make herself comfortable in skin and bones that have stretched well beyond what they were supposed to. At curves that are too new and too pronounced for her comfort.

She steals a glance at the Duke. He leans back, one hand holds the cigar in place and the other rests upon his stomach. He looks quite relaxed. He looks cozy and self-assured.

Perhaps in due time she will learn to appreciate her supple curves and accept what she has become. 

Perhaps in due time she, like the Duke, will have a confidence to match with her size.

#Alcina Dimitrescu #Lady Dimitrescu #Alcina/The Duke #Resident Evil #Fanfiction

[julies-butterflies]

Honestly, your writing reminds me a lot of the buffyverse. Just the perfect balance of humor and sadness and romance and heart that just feels like a vivid window into the world you've created.

God the Body...the best forty minutes of television I may never watch again. I've rewatched Willow and Tara's kiss (because I'll adore them forever), but just...the weight of it. It took me a full month to work up the nerve to watch the episode, to be ready to cry that much.

What you said about not wanting people to suffer, because of your work...It's never once felt like that for me. And I've cried a LOT while reading your work. I'll try to explain it the best I can

Grief can be so isolating, and disorienting. Your world goes topsey-turvey, supports you took for granted go flying into the abyss and suddenly it's a minefield of those glass shards. And no one's grief is identical. No two circumstances are the same. It's not possible for anyone else to know exactly how you feel, because no two hearts break alike.

Sometimes, it's because people just don't understand. Sometime's it's because they no longer want to. But some days, that feeling of aloneness can be crushing.

Then one night, I stumbled upon Let These Shadows Fall Away Like Dust. That one hit me way harder than I was ever expecting. The question of how to grieve the living, the dilemma on when forgiveness is deserved...Alex's anger, his devestation, the rawness of it all....That's my broken glass. Those are concepts I've been struggling for over a year. I'm still picking up pieces every day.

I sobbed, because it was such a relief. To see the feelings that had been scrambled up in my mind just reflected there, on my screen. The reminder I had desperately needed, that I was not alone. That even though my circumstances were different, I was not the only one trying to unravel those messy emotions.

Then again, I also read your deathfic for fun, so maybe I'm not the best judge of this. I tend to like angst. I tend to get a lot of "WHY WOULD YOU MAKE IT THAT SAD" in group chats :D

Please don't feel any pressure to respond to me quickly or anything. I never mind the wait. I'm so sorry for the rough times. Wishing that you and your family gets whatever you need to help ease your storm. Sending love and support as well.

(sorry for all the metaphors. I'm super sleepy and apparently, I resort to purple prose when tired lol)

I know exactly what you mean about Emily. I understand why people don't like her, but I just love to see her written as such a grey character. It's just so much more powerful when the love is so clearly there.

I mean, that's what a tragedy is, really. Love cut short. Grieving a future that could have been everything, if fate had not been cruel. I don't know if you know musical theater, but I like to think about the Barber and His Wife, from Sweeney Todd: the whole tragedy of that show, is that they were happy all together, and then permanently broken. How their paths keep crossing, but they never connect to heal. Never lost, but never found.

And that's the tragedy of Luke and Emily: too stubborn and too late. You find that grey area, the messiness so well, and just bring it all out so wonderfully. You do the same with Bobby/Trevor, ESPECIALLY in the horror and the wild. God, that absolutely devestated me. I'm not a big fan of horror in general, and I haven't explored the genre that much but...if all horror is like yours then DAMN, I might just have to become a fan.

This got super long (lol) so I'll wrap it up now but! THE SIC FIC QUEENS TOGETHER???? When I tell you I lost it.... all too well Bobby and what you've lost reggie in the same story are killing me. I am hooked and incredibly hyped. Loved both updates so far, and cannot wait to see where the story goes!

Oh yeah and I forget: I have to ask, do you have a fan cast of the one, the only, the incredible Keith Richards? (and that goblin is so cute!!! I really want to pet the blood thirsty monster. So badly)

Love, your totally-not-undead-pen-pal, :D

-Vampire Anon

Know musicals? Vampire Anon my beloved, I am a musical theatre bitch. Take a look at my high school graduation cap! (Anastasia is my favorite musical... something about the themes of home, love, and family, the idea of always finding a place in the world even after enduring incredible hardship, that anything is survivable with faith and love in your heart... I'm also a Romanov history bitch, and Christy Altomare is such an incredible talent and human being.) Literally, talk to me about musicals anytime!

And yeah, I definitely see your metaphor... the tragedy of The Barber and his Wife was how close they came to each other throughout the whole show, existing within reach the entire time, after being separated for so long. But it wasn't the same; it never could be. Time and trauma had changed them both into something unrecognizeable, and when they came face-to-face, they could only hurt each other. At a certain point, the ghosts of your past are meant to stay ghosts. Sure, you might want them back more than anything --- but what would it mean? What would you truly be getting back?

Luke's "back", of course, and he comes home to visit his parents multiple times... but they're not the same people he left. They're older, greyer, changed by grief... while he's just the same. A snapshot forever frozen in time, a memory crystalized in amber. You can't hold memories in your hands. You can't pull them close and refuse to let them go. Eventually, they'll slip away... and to Mitch and Emily, a memory is all their son is, now. That's what's so heartrending about the situation we see in the show, especially --- so much love still exists between all of them, but it has no place to go.

Okay, sorry, it's 3am here and I'm rambling too, haha --- mentioning musical theatre was a mistake.

I'm so glad my stories have been able to connect with you, especially 'shadows' --- that one resonated with a lot of people, more than I ever realized it would. It's not the most personal story to me... but definitely one that needed to be told, and the emotion in it... hits home for a lot of people. It means so much to me knowing that story, and Alex's internal struggle, has made people feel less alone.

I think I'm going to have a hard time looking back on that one, though. We were staying at my aunt's house for the weekend where I wrote most of it; I read a few excerpts to her, and she said she liked it. She was always interested in my writing... I kind of wish I'd gotten the chance to share more of it with her.

Like you said. Grief's a funny thing. Disorienting, relentless, and crushing.

Please just remember, though --- whatever you're dealing with, you're not alone. You don't have to cut yourself on those broken pieces... one day, you'll wake up, and realize you feel whole again. It will never feel the same, and the pain will always be there... but healing around it is what makes us stronger. You don't owe anyone your forgiveness; it's okay to grieve when you've lost something, regardless of whether death has taken them from you. Grief doesn't have to be earned, it simply has to be felt.

You'll be stronger for it, in the end. I'm sorry you've been hurting so much.

Anyways! Oh gosh! On to lighter, happier topics! Please tell me...

What are your favorite fics? (Like, my fics, obviously, which fics of mine do you just go gaga over? Please praise me or else my ego will shrivel like a worm on hot pavement.) No, okay, I'm kidding --- what are your top fics for this fandom? Like, what are the ones that really resonate with you, that you could read over and over? The JATP fandom has so many greats, but I'm always drawn back to Some Killer Queen You Are by pearlcaddy (buffyverse meets jatp!! iconic!!), Lantern's Light by thefairhero (literally the SOFTEST reggie), the sky's not empty tonight by firefall (just... devastating and beautiful in a dozen ways), and literally anything by foundfamilyvevo.

How long have you been in the JATP fandom? Who are your favorite characters? What's your favorite JATP song?

And finally, most importantly... what are your favorite musicals?

(also... since u asked... behold keith richards and tremble)

#vampire anon my beloved #also... vampire anon... you're a writer #i can tell!! i can read it in your words #youre so eloquent and put things so beautifully #do you write fic?? have you posted any for jatp??

[greenornaments]

58. “I’ve been in love with you my entire life. Ever since the day I first met you.” :D

Oooh, thank you so much for this prompt! This takes place post-Ch. 2, they’ve defeated Pennywise and Eddie didn’t die or even get attacked. Enjoy! ^_^

———————————

Richie can’t stop himself from thinking about it; the crippling terror he’d experienced under the clown’s hypnotic spell as he helplessly watched Eddie get impaled above him, unable to do anything but watch, scream, and listen to the deafening cries inside his own head of NO, NO, GOD NO, NOT EDDIE, TAKE ME INSTEAD, PLEASE….

It’s not real. None of it was real. He knows this from the moment he awakens from the Deadlights, dazed and disoriented as Eddie looks down at him and exclaims that he’s done it, he’s killed It, and Richie gets that surge of energy and strength he’s always heard about mothers getting when their child is in danger. It’s enough to propel him to grab onto Eddie and roll both of them out of the way just in time to miss the clown’s vengeful claws. The six of them make it out, fleeing from the house of horrors one after the other, grabbing onto each other in relief and shock as they watch Neibolt crumble into the ground and become nothing more than a bad memory.

And he can’t stop thinking about it. While they walk the quiet streets of Derry in the early dawn. When they reach the quarry, which is now sporting a large sign warning against the diving they’d engaged in so many times as children without a second thought. When they blatantly ignore the sign and dive in anyway, with Eddie grabbing onto his hand before they take the plunge. While they’re swimming around in the opaque water and Eddie is playfully splashing some of it in his direction, the smile on his face more beautiful than all the stars in the sky combined. Especially then.

What would I have done? He thinks to himself as he laughs and splashes him back. If the clown had gotten him and he was gone, what the fuck would I have done?

He’s still thinking about it later that night, as he’s standing in the shower of his rented room at the Derry Townhouse, letting the hot water run over his body and cleanse him once and for all of the scourge of Pennywise and all the misery It had wrought over him and his friends for their entire lives. He’s letting his mind wander, turning over long buried memories that have been barreling at him full force ever since he stepped foot inside Jade of the Orient and saw Eddie for the first time in twenty-seven years, but which he hasn’t allowed himself to fully process until now. Now that he has nothing else to do but think.

He thinks about that summer, of quarries and clubhouses and lazy afternoons spent in a hammock; he thinks about movies and videogames and ice cream; of days spent riding bikes through the streets of town and of hot, still nights reading comics together on Eddie’s bed while trying not to wake up Mrs. Kaspbrak.

He thinks back further, to school trips to the apple orchard, where he and Eddie would pool their pocket money together to share a turnover that Richie would always make sure to take the smaller half of. He thinks of chilly winters; of snowy days spent building snowmen in Richie’s front yard before going inside for piping hot mugs of hot chocolate.

And he thinks back even further still, to the first day of kindergarten, when he was a tiny, nervous ball of anxiety who started crying the minute his mother left, until a brown haired boy with wide eyes as dark as his hair came up to him, smiled, and offered him some dried peaches from a small bag he took from the black fanny pack around his waist.

Fuck, he thinks, the long forgotten truth hitting him as his mind lingers on the R+E he’d carved into the kissing bridge on that long ago summer day. You’ve gotten yourself into a fucking emotional mess now, Rich. You dumb fucking asshole. You shouldn’t have come back here. None of you should have. Forgetting was better, it was always fucking better.

He heaves a sigh and turns the water off, shivering as he steps out of the shower and towels himself off. He’s just finishing putting on fresh clothes when he hears a knock on his door. It’s probably Mike wanting us all to go to brunch or some shit.

He crosses the room and opens the door. It’s not Mike.

“Can I come in?” Eddie asks, even as he’s squeezing past Richie and entering the room anyway.

“Well, since you so politely asked for my permission,” Richie quips, watching Eddie sit on the edge of his bed. He’s also changed his clothes; he’s wearing plaid pajama pants and a plain black sweatshirt that says Tri-State Insurance across the front. It’s a very basic outfit that shouldn’t be and truly isn’t anything special, yet somehow on Eddie it manages to make Richie’s heart thump ever so slightly harder.

Get a fucking grip on yourself.

“To what do I owe this most honorable visit?” Richie asks as he leans against the wall and tries to look like he hasn’t just spent the past half hour reliving every single moment of pining he’s repressed for years.

Eddie looks suddenly uncomfortable, like he’s unsure now of why he’s there. “I… I wanted to talk to you. If you have a minute.”

“Just a minute, I have a hot date with your mom I’m gonna be late for.”

“You do realize my mom is dead, right, asshole?”

Richie swallows down the next joke he was about to make. He actually hadn’t remembered that in all the chaos. “Sorry,” he murmurs, his eyes meeting Eddie’s for the first time since the other man burst into his room. Eddie gazes back at him for the briefest of moments before he closes his eyes and sighs.

“Just… look, this isn’t gonna be easy for me to say,” he begins, opening his eyes back up and focusing them on a vague spot on the wall somewhere to the left of Richie. “But it’s going to bug the shit out of me until I say it, so I’m just going to bite the bullet and fucking go for it, and you don’t even have to respond, I just want to get it off my chest.”

Richie’s stomach drops, and he starts to wonder if he’s done something to piss Eddie off since they’ve reunited. Like, unintentionally. The basis of their entire friendship has always been him playfully trying to get Eddie mad, but Eddie has never really been angry at him. He doesn’t think they’ve ever even had a real fight. But there’s always that seed of doubt, and Richie quickly goes back over every interaction they’ve had in the past couple of days. Did he get mad about me making fun of his job? Maybe I made too many mom jokes, I honestly forgot she’s dead. Ok, maybe I shouldn’t have made those comments about his wife, but come on, he told me himself that their marriage is on the rocks and he’s been emotionally divorced for a long time, so how mad could he possibly-

“Earth to Trashmouth, are you listening to me?”

Fuck. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry. What’s on your mind?” Richie asks, clearing his throat and trying to do the same to his mind as he focuses back on Eddie, who takes a deep breath and begins speaking.

“Richie… back there, in the sewers, when… when the fucking clown had you in those Deadlights, I knew I had to do something to save you, cause no shit, right, you’re one of my best friends, so of course I did, but… but for some reason I also kind of felt like… like you being attacked by Pennywise was a personal attack on me? Sort of? Like… fuck… all I could think of was how I froze up when that spider fuck was attacking you, and how I had to make up for that, but also how… Ugh… I don’t know how to phrase this,” Eddie whines, rubbing a hand over his face as he focuses his eyes back on the wall, avoiding eye contact with Richie.

“It’s like… if it was any of the others up there, of course I would also try to help them if I could, but it wouldn’t…. it wouldn’t feel like so much of a personal thing, if that makes sense? The clown getting you, specifically, just really pissed me off. And when you dropped down I was so worried about you, like, were you ok? Were you hurt? I thought back to when we were kids, you know, when Bev was in the lights and Ben had to kiss her, and I thought… is that what you needed, too? Was I going to have to do that? But then you woke up and I was relieved, Rich, I was so relieved, but I was also… I don’t know… disappointed. I was actually disappointed that you didn’t need a kiss to wake up, and god, Richie, ever since we got out of that fucking house that’s all I’ve been able to think about. Why it is that I was so, so disappointed.”

Richie’s heart is pounding now, the steady thump of its beat echoing in his ears as all of his blood rushes to his head and makes him feel dizzy. Is Eddie saying what he thinks he’s saying? He can’t be, this isn’t real, it’s a dream, he’s still in the Deadlights and he’s going to wake up any second and they’re still going to be in that godforsaken sewer.

“Richie.”

“What?” Richie barely manages to choke out as Eddie finally makes eye contact with him. Every part of him is bursting to come out and say what he’s been holding back for days, for years, but he’s terrified.

“I don’t know how else to say this, but I… I think…”

“Eddie, I love you.” The words leave his mouth before he can stop them, and the minute they do his stomach flips, waves of nausea threatening to make him let loose right there on the bedroom floor, but somehow, using unimaginable strength he doesn’t even know he has in him, he manages to keep himself just barely under control enough to not completely ruin this moment.

Eddie blinks, his cheeks turning a brilliant shade of crimson. “Say that again?” He says it in a shocked whisper, his eyes wide as saucers as he looks at Richie in disbelief.

“I said I love you,” Richie repeats, finding it easier to say the second time now that the worst is over. He might as well let it all out, there’s no going back now. “I do, I love you so fucking much. I’ve been in love with you my entire life. Ever since the day I first met you. And that’s all that’s been on my mind since I got that fucking phone call from Mike. That’s what went through my head as soon as I saw the number pop up on my phone. You.” He feels his cheeks growing hot from the adrenaline and pure relief of that crushing weight coming off of his chest.

Eddie’s shoulders are heaving with the intensity of the breaths he’s taking as his dark eyes bore into Richie’s. The next thing Richie knows, he’s watching Eddie get up off the bed and cross over to him, stopping close to him but, agonizingly, not even remotely close enough.

“Say it again,” he demands, his eyes flashing.

“I love you.”

“Again.” Eddie is slowly closing the space between them.

“I. Love. You.”

“One more time.” He’s practically pressed up against him now, and Richie is about 80% sure he’s about to actually faint.

“I’m in love with you, you little shit-“

His words are cut off by the gentle press of soft lips against his, and his brain short-circuits and goes completely offline. It’s so much, it’s too much, it’s not enough, it’s Eddie, it’s literally everything Richie has ever dreamed of, it’s the moment he often stayed up for entire nights fantasizing about, it’s what he always assumed he would never experience, and here it was, as real as the press of Eddie’s warm, breathing, very much alive body pinning him against the wall.

Their lips part and they look at each other, breathing heavily. Eddie’s eyes are blown black, his lips are cherry red and his cheeks are scarlet. He’s so close that Richie can actually feel the thumping of the other man’s heart against his chest.

“I love you too, asshole,” says Eddie, smiling before crashing their lips back together.

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #my writing #it chapter 2

[queens-floyd]

Drummer Girl pt. 5/Holiday Special

Masterlist

A/N: the beginning is eh angsty but it gets really fluffy ;) it’s a “Christmas special” a day late. Oops. Also I’m sorry to the people in the tag list I forgot to add one on pt. 4. Forgive me!

Roger Taylor x OC

Warnings: Language, alcohol

Lavender’s POV

It was that time of year again. Christmas Eve. Honestly, I haven’t had a real Christmas since my dad left. Before, we would throw parties and have feasts, see all my cousins and relatives, it was my favorite holiday. After that, we stopped going to family gatherings all together. They didn’t want to see us and we didn’t want to see them. My mum’s side of the family lived in another country and since my dad left, we couldn’t afford to visit them. My mum and I tried to celebrate Christmas as much as we could, but times got hard and eventually we stopped the traditions completely seeing we both started working and earning money was more important than celebrating.

Now, I’ve completely forgotten what it’s like to celebrate Christmas. It’s just a normal day for me. I ordered take out from one of the last stores open and enjoyed my lovely alone time. I ended up felling asleep on my couch with some half eaten chow fun on my chest.

I slept peaceful until I felt some sort of ball hit my head. I sat up suddenly expecting to have spilt my noodles all over myself, but I wake up in a different sofa... in my old house. I look around to see who threw that ball and I see two young children sprint past me. I look around some more and I see dozens of people, adults and children. I shake my head and realize these are all my relatives. There are lights and food, so much food, and a giant Christmas tree by the window I would use to practice guitar. I sat there in confusion for a while til a voice pulled me out. I felt a hand on me and I flinched.

“Oh honey, you’re finally awake.” The voice says. I look over and I see my mum.

“W-what? What is h-happening?” I said shaking. She is here. Right here in front of me. Touching me. I feel tears well in my eyes. “Mum?” I say shaken.

She looks healthier from when I last saw her. More full of life. Her beautiful long hair was curled and put up into a messy bun and her makeup is how she would do on holidays. She was wearing a gray wrap dress and low black heels. She looked so beautiful.

“Honey, are you okay?” She says looking concerned.

“I think she’s just disoriented from taking such a long mid day nap.” A voice behind her says. A hand reaches to her shoulder and a face all too familiar appears. A face that I haven’t seen in a very long time.

“D-dad?” I say, not caring that nothing makes sense.

“You shouldn’t be napping kiddo. It’s Christmas and your cousins wanna play with you.” He says laughing. Kiddo. He use to always call me that and I absolutely hated it. Now, it is so relieving to hear it come out of his mouth. He is wearing the ugly Christmas sweater I bought for him when I was eight. It was the first time I bought something on my own.

I jump up and hug both of them tightly. Just to make sure they’re there. They both are shocked at first, but they hug back tightly.

“Woah there kiddo, you’re gonna put out my back.” My dad says. We all laugh and hear one of my aunts call everyone over to open presents.

As I walk to the tree I see the feast of food layed out on the table. My mouth waters. I haven’t eaten food like this since forever. My mum was a great cook and we would always cook together before she got sick.

We got to the presents and my parents handed me a large, wrapped box with little reindeer on the paper and a big green bow. I took it and they smiled widely as I opened it. I tore the paper and underneath there was a suitcase.

“Well, go on open it! We hope it’s what you like.” My mum says.

I unlatch the two latches and slowley open it. Right as it fully opens all other sounds drown out and a loud ringing is heard. Then banging. Then more ringing. It sounds like the doorbell to my apartment. A few more rings and bangs, everything disappears. I rub my eyes and when I pry open my eyes again, I see I’m still on my couch with noodles all over my pants. I was all a dream. I sigh as I hear the doorbell again, then a few pounds at my door. I slowly walk over to my door, upset at whoever woke me up. I go to unlock the door when I hear muttering from behind the door.

“Come on she isn’t home. It’s Christmas Eve she’s probably with family...” a voice says

“One more time then we’ll leave”

I open the door to reveal the four infamous members of Queen and Mary. All of them understandably surprised and Roger with his fist up, about to pound on my door.

I look at them wide eyed not expecting this sudden arrival when they all shout out, “Merry Christmas!”

“Huh?” I say really, really confused.

“Uhh she might not celebrate Christmas...” John says from the back. They all look guilty and slightly cringe at themselves.

“Oh no, I do.” I say, “well, I did...”

“You don’t look like you’re celebrating” Freddie says. I look at myself in my week old pajamas, noodle stains on my pants.

“Well I don’t celebrate anymore.”

“Why not?” Brian says as I step aside for everyone to come in.

“No one to celebrate with I suppose?” I shrug and go to clean up my mess.

“That’s sad.” Freddie blurts, “Well now you’ve got us, and we are taking you to a Queen Holiday Extravaganza! And I am not taking no for an answer.”

“Okay...” I say hesitantly.

“Excellent! Let’s go find you something to wear!” Freddie says as he he waltzes into my bedroom.

“Freddie! Don’t go in there with out her permissi- ugh!” Mary says as she looks back at me sympathetically and chases after him.

I look around and John and Brian are examining my guitar collection. Then I feel a light tap on my shoulder. I turn around and it’s Roger with a large box wrapped in little reindeer wrapping paper and a large green bow. It looked vaguely familiar.

“I got you something... I thought the boys got you something as well, but I guess they didn’t get the memo.” He said rubbing the back of his neck.

I laugh and shake my head, “you idiot, you shouldn’t have gotten me anything.” I lightly punch his arm and take the present. Honestly, I was really happy and greatful for this gesture. I haven’t gotten a Christmas present in a very long time, so this really meant a lot to me. I rip open the gift and open the cardboard box inside. I remove the tissue paper and see a t-shirt. I pull it out and it is probably five times too big for me. I peek out from behind the shirt and raise my eyebrow at Roger. He is wearing a huge smile on his face as he motions for me to flip the shirt. I flip it and the first thing I see is his face, prominent on the front. It shows all the boys and the word ‘Queen’ and their logo. On the shirt there is a big red heart drawn over his face and smaller hearts around it. I glare at him again and he is doubling over laughing. I go over to attack him when he holds up both his hands.

“Woah woah woah, there is one more thing in there.” He says trying to defend himself.

I look back to the box and toss the remaining tissue paper. I pick it out and see that it’s Pink Floyd’s ‘The Wall’ on vinyl. I look closer and see the signatures of Roger Waters and David Gilmour.

“Oh my God. You didn’t” I scoff

“I think I did” He says crossing my arms and peeking at my astonished face.

I let out one more loud laugh and tackle him to the floor in a hug.

“Roger!” I screamed at him as he held me on top of him. We were both laughing hard, “how did you know?”

“Well, when I was doing your laundry after your whole... incident, I stumbled upon all of your Pink Floyd memorabilia. You seem to take a liking to another Roger who isn’t me.” He says offended.

I laughed and hugged him once more before rolling over next to him on the floor. I hold up the record to examine it once again. “This is awesome. How did you manage to get this? It hasn’t even been released! And how did you get them to sign this?”

“Did you forget? I’m famous, love. I met up with them and that Roger is apparently a fan on this Roger. They wanted Queen to take a listen, ya know from one band to another.” He says turning over to me. I tackle him into another hug.

“Ok I found a dress for you Lavender!” Freddie yelled from my bedroom, “it took us ages to find a suitable dress in that mess you call a- woah” all the attention shifts to me on top of Roger and I jump off of him quickly, elbowing him in the stomach in the process. He groans in pain and John, Brian, and I snicker at him.

“Well, whatever was going on needs to take a break because we need to be at this party by 6:00 and it is currently 6:15. I do like to be fashionably late, but at this rate we’ll miss the good booze so... chop chop love birds.” Freddie says as he tosses me a small red dress that I haven’t worn in ages.

I hold it up to reveal the tiny fabric, “Uh... this will definitely not fit me. Can’t I wear some jeans and a shirt?”

“Squeeze yourself into it love, it’s a Christmas Banquet so you must present yourself nicely my dear.”

“Whatever.” I say rolling my eyes to squeeze myself into this dress. I somehow get my body into in and look at myself in the mirror. I could care less what I wear as long as I can drink alcohol in it. I put on a leather jacket and motorcycle boots and walk out of my room.

As soon as I walk out all the attention is on me. Roger’s mouth waters and I throw my pajamas shirt at his face.

“I brought you some booties Lav,” Mary says handing me some heeled boots. I cringe at the sight of heels knowing from experience that alcohol and heels don’t go well together, “don’t worry they’re more comfortable than they look.”

I sigh and stick the on and get use to the new height.

“Very well. Should we go?” Brian says.

We leave accordingly out of my apartment. Freddie and Mary holding hands and Brian and John close after. I grab my purse and start to exit. I feel Roger come up behind me,

“You looks spectacular Lavender.” He says close to my ear. His hand rests on my hip and gets too low. I glare at him while he has a nasty smirk on his lips. In my quick temper I punch him in the gut as he doubles over in pain and groans loudly.

“Try that again drummer boy and next time I’ll aim lower.” I say grabbing my purse and walking out, “Merry Christmas my friend!”

“Damn.”

Bonus:

The party was quite fun. The most fun I’ve had in a while, in fact. I got a handful of glares here and there seeing my close affiliation with Queen, but I could care less. I danced with all the guys and Mary and I drank my usual amount, so I was quite drunk and I dance with a few random men. We all had fun, Freddie got his attention, I got my drinks, Roger found a good looking blonde, things were good.

At one point I was apparently getting too close to this one bloke and Roger had to pull us apart.

“Come on man, he was pretty good looking to me!” I whined at him, “how come you get to have women rubbing themselves at you and I don’t get to have one dance with a guy I choose?”

“You’re drunk. You can thank me later.” He said.

“Uh oh!” Freddie yelled from across the room. He runs over close to us, “I spy two little hotheads under my special Christmas decoration.”

We simultaneously look up and see a mistletoe.

“Shit.” I say. Roger looks at me with wide eyes.

“You don’t have to kiss me if you don’t want to. I’m not gonna force you.”

“Well I am. It’s the rule.” Freddie says taking a sip of champagne.

“Fred! Come on you know she doesn’t...” Roger keeps complaining at Freddie as I look around and pluck a drink from a random person’s hand as I mutter a quick ‘sorry.’ I down the whole drink quickly. I grab his face mid-sentence and place a chaste kiss on his lips. He quickly catches on and deepens the kiss for a few seconds and puts his hands on my hips as I pull away. Freddie cheers and everyone follows along. His hands are still on my hips and looks at me shocked and slightly impressed.

“What? It’s not like you haven’t kissed half the people here.” I joked at him. Many people in the crowd nod including Freddie and Brian.

“It’s true. I know!” Deaky says from the edge of the room. Everyone shares a quick laugh and disperses back to the party. I attempt to walk away as Roger grabs my arm.

“Hey, we’re not gonna be weird about this right?” He says

“I’m not weird about anything. But, no. It’s fine, it was just a mistletoe kiss. No harm done.” I say grabbing two shots from a passing waiter. Roger looks at me as if I were going to give one to him.

“Oh these were both for me.” I say downing both, coughing at intensity of the liquid, “...strong” I say between coughs.

“That’s what you get for double-fisting Freddie’s special tequila, love.” He said laughing at me. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. And just letting you know, you are a marvelous kisser.” He says pinching my butt as he walks away. I was so ready to knee his balls, but I was busy choking on “Freddie’s special tequila.

“I’ll get you back Taylor!” I wheeze at him.

“Sure you will. Merry Christmas!”

Tag List: (some people it wouldn’t let me tag) Let me know if you would like to be tagged!

@isabella-bby @overcastskeleton7 @childishslytherin @2ptonpt @cosmiclunas @rain-must-fall @anamcg317

#bohemian rhapsody #queen #ben hardy roger taylor #brian may #brian may x reader #roger taylor x reader #freddie mercury #john deacon #roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #drummer girl

[xfpureblooda]

🛌 [could be Harry...or could be Hermione... :D ]

@blackcurlsgreeneyes

(*)

Draco was not one normally to get very drunk, but some nights warranted it. After arriving home from traveling for so long, he felt…out of touch with society. Uncomfortable in the Manor, he had gone off for the night, finding himself a Wizarding pub to drink himself into oblivion. The night was mostly a blur, but a few clearer memories could rattle around in his brain.

But when he awoke this one morning, he found that he was more disoriented than he thought. Squinting past the headache that came with hangovers, it took him several moments to realize…this wasn’t his room. He wasn’t back home, he wasn’t in his own bed. And as he reached out in the dim lighting, fumbling for his wand on the floor, he found he wasn’t dressed either.

Oh wonderful, he groused silently, rubbing his eyes with a silent wince. Alcohol always had that effect on him, made him randy for the next bloke to look at him in the right way. Now that he was becoming a bit more alert, Draco could feel the now familiar aches and pain that came with particularly rough sex, and while he had nothing against it, he found it a bit hard to remember exactly what went down.

Ah well. No harm, no foul right?

Suddenly feeling curious as to who he had fallen into bed with – alcohol could make people look hotter than they were, though Draco had some luck with fooling around with some very handsome men more often than not – he took the chance to look over his shoulder. The man passed out behind him was well fit, tanned skin, some scars here and there, and some…scratch marks. His cheeks flushed a little, wondering just how rough they had gotten last night, until his eyes drifted to the man’s face and he choked.

Oh god… He had a fucking one off with Potter?!

Okay, this wasn’t good. Adrenaline rushed through his system, and Draco quickly, but silently, slid himself from under the thick blankets, scrambling for his briefs and yanking them on, grabbing his pants next. Fuck, fuck, fuck, this wasn’t planned, this definitely was not something he thought would ever happen.

Why did the universe hate him so much?

Once he had his jeans back on, Draco tugged his shirt on as well, snatching his shoes and beginning to creep across the room towards the door. If he was quiet enough, and fast enough, he’d be out of here before Potter would wake up and see him.

–If only that bloody owl across the room didn’t suddenly screech.

Fuck everything.

#v; when the morning comes #blackcurlsgreeneyes

[pokemon-legends-and-legacies]

LoreKeeperShipping! :D

[This content is out of date and no longer canon]

How they first met: Zinnia was actually the first person to find Sukarno after he turned into his human form. She was studying the murals in the Sky Pillar and making sketches of them for a plan to restore the artwork. All of a sudden, she felt the air shift and heard a loud roar, followed by a crash at the top of the tower. Zinnia ran up the stairs as fast as she could, only to find Rayquaza themselves lying in front of the altar. In fear of what possibly could have injured the great deity, Zinnia ran up to the dragon only to find them transform before her eyes into what looked like a member of her own clan. Bewildered, Zinnia had to let logic take the backseat as she moved to place her cloak around the man as he slowly gained consciousness, clearly disoriented. When she found out he didn’t speak League Standard and seemed to think it was centuries ago, she began to get worried again about what possibly could be going on. All the same, she managed to convince him to come with her to a hospital and after they figured out he was, essentially, a time-traveler with superpowers (seeing as all his memories of being a deity were missing) Zinnia was the first one to offer Sukarno a place staying with her (and his) clan in Meteor Falls.Where their first date was: Originally, the two spent a lot of time together as Zinnia took it upon herself to introduce Sukarno to the modern world and everything that had happened since he was last mortal. As such, they traveled across Hoenn together, also hoping to maybe find other former-deities like Sukarno or gain clues as to why this happened in the first place. After their journey ended, however, Sukarno found himself making excuses to ask Zinnia questions about modern lie he already knew the answers to, just to spend time with her, while Zinnia would go out of her way to discuss history and Kaliya clan lore with Sukarno, even if she could find the answers elsewhere. Since neither seemed to be catching on to the other’s feelings, Zinnia’s grandmother just set them up on a date at a restaurant in Fallarbor Town. Needless to say, it went well, as much to the clan elder’s delight, Zinna brought Sukarno back to her home in Meteor Village that night.When they had their first kiss: They had their first kiss on their first date, well, after it at least. Swimming with happiness that Sukarno returned her feelings, Zinnia was excited to move to the next step in their relationship, so she invited him to come home with her instead of returning to his room in the elder’s lodge. When he agreed and they returned to Zinnia’s house, she decided to set the mood by kissing him. Sukarno did not react super well to that, since he grew up in an era where courtship was supposed to be formal and physical affections reserved mainly for after marriage. Zinnia, on her part, felt super bad for rushing him, so they agreed to just hang out for the night instead. They did eventually have a proper kiss about a month later, though.Who cooks: When they first started dating, neither of them were very good cooks, Zinnia mainly knowing the basics and Sukarno knowing none at all. Zinnia’s grandmother tried to give her more detailed lessons since someone in the family needed to know how to cook, but Zinnia just didn’t catch on too well. Sukarno, on the other hand, got his own set of cooking lessons from his future grandmother in law and found out that, not only did he enjoy cooking, he was quite good at it. Nowadays, he’s the one who cooks for the family, since Alya inherited her mother’s cooking skills.Who proposed: Sukarno proposed! Zinnia saw it coming from a mile away though. She knew that her boyfriend wanted to at least try to keep their relationship somewhat traditional (even though he was breaking away from the traditions he was raised with in many other instances), so she let him go through the whole process of asking her grandmother for permission (she drew the line at dowry negotiations though), then formally present her with the engraved gold charm symbolizing their union. The whole Meteor Village had a huge party for the happy couple (dwarfed only by the actual wedding) and while Zinnia was overjoyed at her future, she dearly wished her sister Aster could have been there to celebrate as well.The dominate one: Zinnia. Sukarno makes a good show of trying be the dominant one but it’s Zinnia. She regularly tops. And her husband does like it, even if he complains, because that’s just how he is. All the same, he accepts it just fine since his wife is the ‘higher ranked’ one in their relationship so traditionally she would be the dominant one. Their favorite pastime together: They love to travel! Especially to foreign nations. Zinnia knows she’ll eventually be tied down in Hoenn when she inherits the clan head duties from her grandmother, so she wants to see the world while she has the chance. Sukarno never traveled in the past, so he loves being able to see the world and all the different cultures, people, and pokemon that make it up. They usually forgo public transportation and fly on their dragons (Zinnia’s Salamence and Sukarno’s Flygon), making sure to hit all the important cultural and historical sights along the way. Alya was born while her parents were travelling (which caused a bit of a scandal back home for the heir to not be born in Hoenn), and her parents like to think she inherited her wanderlust from being born ‘on the road’ so to speak.Who kissed who first: Zinnia kissed Sukarno.Who is the flirt: Sukarno, surprisingly enough. He might be a bit on the traditional side, but once he discovers that flirting in public is socially acceptable he takes it upon himself to shower his wife in compliments all the time. Zinnia isn’t really phased by this though, and she’ll flirt right back (which will actually fluster her husband, which she finds hilarious). Who is the romantic: Sukarno, again, since he takes a very traditional approach to romance, doing things like buying jewelry and flowers for his wife (she appreciates the latter a bit more than the former) and generally pampering her whenever he can. He can sometimes go a bit overboard though, in which case Zinnia will tell him to take a break worrying about taking care of her and let her take care of him. This, as expected, flusters him quite a bit. Who wakes up first: Sukarno, usually, since he just doesn’t need as much sleep as a normal person would. He usually tries to go back to sleep so he can wake up with Zinnia though.Who comforts who the most: They both comfort each other quite a lot. Zinnia is still haunted by her sister’s death and the responsibility that suddenly fell on her shoulders in the aftermath, while Sukarno has lived through a civil war, seen family members and friends killed, and essentially thought he was going to die when he ended up deified. Not to mention being displaced in time on top of it all. Sukarno tends to internalize all his issues, just as Zinnia tends to be in denial about things, so often times their communication isn’t very good. All the same, if one does pick up on the other’s distress (and they’ve gotten good at it over the years) they have a wordless agreement to led support when needed.The cuddler: Zinnia tends to be more physically affectionate, mainly since physical affection is more common in the era she grew up in. Sukarno craves physical affection more, but is more hesitant about initiating since that sort of thing wasn’t done in public, or even in private as much, where and when he grew up.The big spoon: As he is the taller one, Sukarno often is the big spoon, but he likes being held by Zinnia as well.

#answer #kataang36 #lorekeepershipping #zinnia #sukarno #rayquaza #alya #aster k #draconid people #as expected of the ship name this post contains lore #sukarno is a stuffy tsundere noble and zinnia is a 'do whatever she wants' badass from a fallen clan and they make a beautiful couple #also got to worldbuild a bit with relationship dynamics in this world so yeah #even though he was born higher rank #it means nothing in this era #zinnia is the clan heir #so she's the 'dominant' one in their marriage #not that she cares

[theres-no-paradise]

Sorry not Sorry

Chapter 10

Summary:  A random number wakes you up early on a Saturday morning. But it doesn’t stop there. The stranger keeps on sending messages, and you have no idea what is happening, when you start to develop feelings for the unknown person.

Pairings: Tom Holland  x Reader [submit your name: How it works]

Y/N your Name Y/F your Friend

Word Count:  2289

Warnings: none (just a little use of alcohol and making out but thats it lol)

A/N: THERE MIGHT BE MAJOR GRAMMAR MISTAKES - please tell me if you find them, I’m a little tired. You are also allowed to dislike me for waiting so long. I deserve it I guess. But motivation lost me and then I’ve been hella busy and kinda didn’t find my way back to this ff. But here we are with a new chapter. I wanted it to be a little longer BUT the stuff that happens after this chapter would kinda break the mood of this one. Also I’m sorry what I made you do in this one. Don’t be offended. :’D I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1  •  Chapter 2  •  Chapter 3  •  Chapter 4  •  Chapter 5  •  Chapter 6  •  Chapter 7  •  Chapter 8 • Chapter 9 

The Spiderman: What’s going on in London town?

 You: Not much. Im going out with Y/F

The Spiderman: Oh, fun night out!!

You: More like: She’s getting wasted and I’m being a babysitter

The Spiderman: Sounds a little like Haz…

You: lol we should hook them up

The Spiderman: absolutely haha

You: How’s work?

The Spiderman: Exhausting but fun! We’re on a little break now.

You: Don’t overwork Mr. Holland

The Spiderman: I’ll do my best 

You: Good. I gotta go now. Y/F just arrived ttyl 

The Spiderman: text me when you get home so I know you’re safe.

You: I try not to forget!

The Spiderman: You better do

Going to clubs with your friend happened quite frequently the past few weeks. Usually you were the person to stay in but dancing was quite fun and as long as your friend wouldn't get extremely wasted, you had a good time nonetheless.

One evening you were sitting in your favourite pub, having some beers before the actual night out. It was a nice and relaxing atmosphere but that would change soon once the partygoers would get their pre-drinks.

“Did you know that Tom and Zendaya are a thing?”, Y/F suddenly asked, throwing you off from your previous topic about work. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“It’s been on the internet for a while now”

“So? I’ve known him already when the rumours spread. He would've told me”, you countered.

“Not sure. He’s an actor after all. If he doesn't want it to be public-”

“I don't believe in these rumours”

“He even flies to LA regularly”

“Yeah… He’s an actor, as you said. And in LA are all the studios, of course he flies out there.

“Just don't get too attached.”

“I won't!”

Suddenly the mood dropped and you girls had no proper topic to talk about. “Shall we head to the Club?”, you threw in and Y/F answered: “Yeah.”

 That night something happened, which you didn't plan in the first place. Something, you wouldn't even think of planning any day. Y/F’s words still repeated themselves in your mind and trying to get rid of them, you drank. You drank a lot and without realising it, you ended up being utterly wasted. Alone in the crowd, you danced to the loud music banging from the speakers, not caring about the people around you, moving with you. At some point, you didn't know when, a stranger approached you, but you couldn't care less, you just kept on dancing. Your vision was blurry and you only enjoyed the music. With the alcohol in your blood, you did things that you didn't mean to do. Once the guy who danced with you, put his lips on yours, you just couldn't stop. The kiss became more intense and the guy, whose name you didn't even know, dragged you out of the club.

You didn’t remember much after that.

The strong headache was the first thing that woke you up the next morning. You were disoriented, not having any idea where you were at first. The guy from last night lay still next to you so you crawled out of the bed as quiet as possible. Trying to find your clothes was a real struggle. His place was a mess and everything was laying around and it made it harder for you to find your stuff. Once you gathered all of it, you threw it all on and left the place as fast as possible, not leaving a message at all.

Sitting on the tube in the early morning, reality slowly hit you. Not only did you sleep with a guy you didn't even know, you felt like shit. Not because of the drunk accident but more because of Tom. Even though you weren’t dating, you felt regret wash over your body. Obviously a sign that it was a mistake what has happened last night. The walk of shame, after a crazy night out, became the walk of horror for you. Barely any people were on the tube, so there weren't many sneaking looks but the moment you phone started buzzing, you knew immediately what was going to happen.

The Spiderman: Guess who just landed in London.

 Nausea struck you immediately. Did he tell you before that he planned to come home? You scrolled up the whole conversation, no sign of any mention of home. Slowly gulping down that lump that has formed in your throat, you typed in the response.

 You: No way you're in London?

The Spiderman: Actually yes. It’s my mom's birthday, wanna join?

You: I don't know. I don't even know her, isnt that weird?

The Spiderman: Not at all. My mom’s easy going

You: Okay…

The Spiderman: It's gonna be at their place, 7pm. Want me to pick you up?

You: No its cool. I’ll be at the train station

The Spiderman: Can't wait!

You: See you

The Spiderman: xx

 The feeling in your guts could've been described as awful. Just some horrible, unnecessary feeling building up inside of you.

As you approached your station, you left the train and walked the long way back home. Thinking about how you’re gonna meet Tom later, not sure if you should tell him what you did.

Maybe you shouldn't tell him what happened? You were not dating anyway so is it his business to know who you slept with? Well, yes if you are romantically involved with him, but are you? You ask yourself a thousand questions, not knowing the answer for it. Asking Y/F for advice was not a good idea either, not only because she might also have a hangover, but after last night's conversation she wasn't really fond of helping you with Tom anyway.

You spent the day laying on your sofa, drinking tons of water and eating some cheeky Nandos from around the corner. You still felt awful about what has happened the night before and you even tried to think about what happened. You didn't remember a thing, only that some random guy kissed you and dragged you to his place. What happened after was a blackout. You couldn't recall anything, that has happened in his sheets and that made it even worse.

‘Maybe nothing happened and I’m overreacting’, you thought, trying to calm yourself down. Unfortunately it didn't work and you rolled around on your sofa, blanky nearly falling off of you.

Checking the clock you realized, it was getting late. You stood up quickly and pulled out some clothes. Luckily you took a shower once you came back home after the walk of shame in your neighbourhood. Now it was time for some decent clothes. You pulled out a dark jeans and a nice dark grey Sweater, which you pulled over a white shirt. It looked casual enough for a ‘parent - birthday - party’, you thought.

When you arrived at the train station, with flowers you just got earlier for his mom, you could see Tom standing on the platform with Tess, just as the last time he picked you up.

“Hey”, you greeted him, pulling him into a tight hug. “It’s been ages”, he said, once he pulled back, taking in your figure. “You look pretty”, “likewise, handsome”, you countered, smiling slightly. As you slowly walked to his parents house, you caught up on recent events which you haven't talked on the mobile.

“Oh, I got you something”, Tom said suddenly, opening his backpack and taking out a little, dark red Box. “Why do you have a bag with you?”, you wondered, as he held the little package into your direction. “Presents for mom”, he answered smiling and pulled the zipper closed. While he did that, you stared at the little box in your hands. “Open it!”, he laughed, having a very demanding tone in it.

You did as you’ve been told and once the box was open, a little beaver with way too big teeth grinned at you. It was holding a little plate in its hands, saying Montreal on it. “You got me something from Canada?”, you asked surprised. “I told you I would”, he grinned, running his hand through his hair nervously. “You didn’t have to-”, “I know, but I did”, Tom countered and smiled. You thanked him and suddenly that terrible feeling in your stomach was back, signalling you of the mistake you made last night. Should you tell him or keep it to yourself? You weren't sure and the worst about this situation was: Your friends words still lingered in your mind, waiting to be spoken out.

 Nikki’s Party was better, than you originally imagined. Of course, there were many people that were a lot older than you but Tom and his brothers had been great hosts. They hung out with you, joked around and played silly games. Of course, there was some alcohol too but you tried to keep it to a minimum. A wine here and there maybe. After a few hours, around two in the morning, Tom decided that it was time to go home. You said your goodbyes to the family and friends and left with the Actor. “I’ll check if there's a bus coming”, you said, trying to figure out the app on your phone that had all the details in it.

“Leave it. I’m not gonna let you drive home at this time of the night.” “I’m not a child, Tom”, you said sternly, as you scrolled with your finger on the display. Tom just pulled your phone out of your hands and walked away with it. Leaving you stunned for a second. “Hey!”, you shouted after him and followed his figure, but he decided to take up the pace and ran away. “You son of a-”, you didn't say it out loud but sprinted after him as fast as you could, only to accept the fact, that this spider boy was way faster than you. As you arrived in front of his door, holding your sides because of having the stitches, he grinned at you, giving back the mobile device.

“You’re staying here, I dont want someone to kidnap you”, Tom explained, as he opened his door and let you walk in. Annoyed at his behaviour, you walked in and got rid of your shoes, walking to the living room. Sitting down on the couch, you looked around. Nothing has changed since the last time. A little more merch here and there (Obviously Spiderman Stuff duh) but other than that, same old living room.

Tom came over with two beers in his hand, joining you on the sofa. The night wasn’t over yet, you knew that. It basically just started for you too, but hoped to not get as drunk as the night before. As time went by, you kept talking with Tom about all the things, that annoyed you at work the past few weeks. And even he’d complain about certain days, when nothing would've worked for him at all. Just as you were telling him about some differences with your best friend, you didn't mention what she said. Just that you wouldn't agree with her opinion. Tom listened closely but laid down on the sofa, his head resting on your lap. You felt your cheeks heat up a little at this sudden change of position but kept on telling him all the things. When you finished complaining, a warm feeling in your stomach grew, pushing aside all the negativity from the day.

“Can I kiss you?”

 Well, that was unexpected. And even worse, it came out of your mouth. Tom only giggled slightly at your outburst, which made you insecure, so you tried to save the situation. “I’m so sorry, that was rude. It's the alcohol and I know that you have a girlfriend and-” you stopped suddenly when Tom shifted positions and sat across from you again. “Why would you think that?”, he asked, voice filled with concern.

“Uhm, the internet is all over with it?”

“Z? We’re friends! She’s like family to me”, Tom explained, a serious expression on his face while he looked at you. “Really?”, your voice wasn't more than a whisper. “Positive. So… Didn't you want to kiss me?”, Tom joked, a smug expression on his face. Oh this boy definitely had a drink too much tonight, you could tell.

You really wanted to kiss him though, but something kept you back and as you were struggling to find the courage, Tom took the opportunity and kissed you first instead. Usually a kiss like that would end after a moment, checking each others reactions out but this wasn't the case. The innocent kiss became an endless make out session which lasted more than just a few minutes.

At some point your mind started to scream, telling you to stop, which unfortunately lead to an end of this wonderful experience.

“I slept with someone”, you blurted out as Tom was trying to recollect his thoughts. It took him a little to think about your words but then, to your surprise, he just shook it off. “Yeah, I guess that happens when your single”

“I didn't mean to though. It felt wrong”

“Why?”

“Because of you, I guess”

There was tension in the air and the sudden silence felt heavy on your shoulders. Was he mad?

“I admit, I’m a little jealous that someone else got a taste of that sweet bum of yours”, Oh alcohol, you thought but couldn't help and laugh at his words. “We surely can change that”, were your last words, before you kissed Tom again with a big smile on your lips.

The enormous guilt you were struggling about was over for now, and you let your thoughts spin back to Tom and his lips.

Taglist:   @hollandorks  @hollywoodgonzalez @ilivefortomholland @casualprincess77 @agirlwithpointlessideas @isabellamozarella03 @MENDES-HOLLAND @thiswildfire @wastedheartnat @hollandbaby @moonofmy-life @smileylaurens @random-fandom-lady @heartoftheadventure @blackazkaban @augurydemon @homecomjng @punkass-potato @unfoldingdaydreams @thefriendlyneighborhoodspidey @rivedale @tiffanypooh@claraholland @tohollandback @letsmcflytobritain

#sns #sorry not sorry #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #spiderman #peter park

[kaen-ace-of-diamonds]

"If it's so simple, why haven't you done it already?" for Cinder/Emerald

This story is brought to you by the Funny Moments subpage on RWBY’S TV Tropes page, because it pointed out a little detail of “Beginning of the End” that I wouldn’t have noticed otherwise. 

~0~

As far as Emerald was concerned, the mission had been a complete and total success. Their target was dead, or as good as, anyway. Sure, they’d been interrupted, but she’d make sure that no one could recognize who they were. And though Cinder had informed them that this was only half of the power she had been after and that they would have to adjust their plans for Beacon so that she could find and claim the other half, Emerald was amazed enough by what she had now. Flawless victory, as Mercury had put it, as if it were some video game level they’d cleared. 

But apparently, their leader thought differently. 

It was late already when the three of them had finally stopped running from the scene of their crime – better to be safe than sorry, Cinder said, and move farther out than any Huntsman or Huntress might go looking for them – and set up camp for the night. Mercury was outside, tuning up his legs and boiling water over the campfire for their dinner, and Cinder had told them she was stepping out for a few minutes to give her mission report. 

Emerald had elected to set up their tents and lay out the bedrolls for the night. Under any other circumstances, she might have been jealous of Mercury for getting a tent all to himself, but she had the privilege of sharing one with Cinder, and was not about to risk losing such a privilege by complaining about something petty. She had just finished, and, thoroughly tired out from the day’s efforts, decided to lie down. Oh, she’d be out to grab her share of dinner in a few minutes, she wouldn’t fall asleep, she was just…resting her eyes a bit…

Five minutes later, she was flat on her back on top of both her sleeping bag and bedroll, out cold. The soft ruffle of the tent flap being pushed back wasn’t enough to wake her, nor were the footsteps slipping in on the grass, but the sharp clanging of metal being thrown to the ground and the muffled thump of a palm on the cloth beside her ear was. She stirred at the noise, and was quickly jolted awake by the feeling of skin brushing her legs and the realization that someone was on top of her. 

To anyone who had spent most of their life sleeping on the streets, waking up like this was high on the list of worst fears, and years of instinct ripped a scream from her throat and threw her arms outward to knock the intruder away. But firm hands pinning her down and the familiar flash of sharp amber eyes directly above her face halted all her resistance in its tracks.

“Down.”

Emerald didn’t need the order to lie perfectly still, her heart pounding, a rabbit in the jaws of a fox. “Ci…Cinder? Wh-What’s wrong?”

Over the past months, she had developed a healthy respect for her new leader. Respect, that was all it was. She was not afraid of the woman who had saved her from starving to death in that miserable city. But she’d be lying if she said that the look on Cinder’s face right now – severe, unsmiling, not breaking eye contact or even blinking – didn’t turn her insides cold.

And when Cinder answered, the carefully restrained anger in her voice only made it worse. “Emerald. Remind me, what instructions did I give you before we left this morning?”

“Uh…” It hadn’t been much, but now she stumbled over her words trying to repeat it back. “Remember the plan. D-Distract the target, then, um, keep her disoriented when you and Mercury go in for the kill. Immobilize her, I-I mean, so you could…”

“Yes. I said, remember the plan, exactly as discussed. Not a foot out of place. Were those instructions in any way difficult, Emerald?”

“N-No, ma’am.”

“That’s what I thought. But if it was so simple…” Cinder’s hands tightened on her shoulders, the heat of the Maiden’s newfound power building just beneath her skin. Emerald gasped in spite of herself, and had to fight not to squirm in the older girl’s burning grip. “Then why did you deliberately step out of line and nearly ruin everything?”

“What?!” Emerald blurted out, completely floored. “I-I mean…I’m sorry, I…What are you talking about?”

“You know perfectly well what you did. You think I wasn’t watching? Didn’t see what tipped the target off to the fact that something was wrong? Think carefully, Emerald.”

Emerald tried, but it was very suddenly hard to pull the memory back clearly through the shock that had frozen her mind. She didn’t know how the Maiden had noticed her – had quickly had much bigger things to worry about, actually – and she’d been standing right next to her. She’d been putting all her focus on the illusion, which hadn’t been that hard; the image of her childhood self was her go-to distraction of choice. The girl had been completely absorbed in the trick, but she’d still reached for her gun slowly and carefully, to land one quick and devastating bullet in each of her kneecaps so she couldn’t run when all three of them fell on her. Out of pure reflex, she had stepped back to take aim, and…

Her eyes went wide. “The dust…I-I must have kicked up some dust when I – ”

“Put your foot out of place, and distracted her from your distraction,” Cinder finished, bitingly sarcastic. “Made this entire job ten times more trouble than it was supposed to be, which in turn stretched it out until the Huntsman could reach us. Now I only have half of what I need, and we’ll have to watch our backs even more carefully when we infiltrate Beacon. Fantastic work, Emerald. Tell me, did you think you were being funny?” 

“N-No! No, of course not, I – Cinder, I swear, I didn’t mean to do that!”

“And so it doesn’t matter?”

“Yes! I mean no! I just…It was just a mistake!” she protested, knowing even as the words left her mouth that it was the wrong thing to say, but having no idea what would be the right thing. 

“A mistake?” Cinder’s expression turned stony. But to Emerald’s immense surprise, her touch loosened, became softer, as she released one shoulder to run her hand down Emerald’s arm, leaving the faint red outlines of her fingers. The tips of her fingers ran gently over her skin, lingering on the long, thin cuts where the Maiden’s ice shards had torn through it. Emerald felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, at both Cinder’s touch and the memory of her own pained screams. “You don’t seem to understand what I want. I meant for this to be a quick and simple task, not an all-out brawl with a Maiden. You two handled it well when she attacked, but I did not intend for you to risk your lives against her in the first place.”

“Cinder…” Emerald hesitated for a second before figuring out what to say – clearly, she really hadn’t understood her leader’s feelings. “Those are nothing, I don’t mind getting a little scraped up. We did it, and we’re all okay.”

Cinder didn’t look convinced. Without warning, her hand moved over to rest directly on Emerald’s heart, and Emerald let out a tiny squeak of surprise, very suddenly forgetting how to breathe. She almost didn’t catch Cinder’s next, quiet words: “She was about to stab you. You could have been killed…All because of one little mistake.” 

“…Oh.” 

She hadn’t considered that, either. Now that it was all over, that moment of pure, soul-freezing terror as she’d stared up at the furious Maiden seemed like just a distant nightmare, compared to the relief she had felt an instant later, as Cinder’s arrow hit home and the girl fell, instead of her. But even so, if Cinder had shot just a second too late…

“I see. I…I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t think of any of that.”

The smile, almost teasing, that the words brought to Cinder’s face sent a thrill surging through Emerald’s veins. Then, quite unexpectedly, Cinder leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, startling the thief so badly she jumped underneath her; she could have sworn her heart stopped cold for that second. Seeing Emerald’s wide-eyed, open-mouth shock as she pulled back, Cinder gave a light laugh.

“Don’t think. Obey,” she said, standing up again. Emerald still couldn’t quite remember how to move, or do anything other than stare. “I expect nothing less than excellence from you once we move into Vale, Emerald. Remember that, and we’ll have no further problems.”

“Y-Yes, ma’am,” Emerald heard herself say dazedly. 

Cinder smirked. “Very good. Come out to eat, when you’re ready.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

With a nod of acknowledgement, Cinder ducked back out of the tent, leaving Emerald lying there on the ground. After a moment, she slowly sat up, still staring at the closed tent flaps. Outside, she could hear the muffled sounds of Cinder and Mercury talking, the fire snapping (probably still aided by Cinder), and of the night’s birds chirping in the trees above them all. She reached up to touch her cheek with disbelieving fingers, and still felt the heat from Cinder’s lips. She had never done anything like that before…Emerald was surprised to find herself trembling a little.

As far as she understood, kisses on the cheek or forehead were fairly chaste gestures, and considering how Cinder had saved her life twice as of today, it was comparatively small. But still, it felt like everything, loosened the grip of fear on her heart, erased the sting of the punishing slaps that more often struck her cheek. For a moment, she let herself think that maybe, if she lived up to Cinder’s expectations of her for their next mission – no, exceeded them – she might earn something even better. 

Her stomach growled, and she picked herself up, walking out of the tent to get her plate of dinner. (The novelty of being able to do such a thing so easily still hadn’t worn off on her.) She could smell something spicy coming from the small pot on the campfire, and her mouth was already watering as she sat down in front of it. On seeing her, Mercury ducked his head like a horse and made a noise through all the food in his mouth, that she guessed was a greeting. Cinder, who had been absently raising and lowering the flames with a flex of her fingers, looked up and smiled knowingly at her. And it was that, more than the fire at her feet, that warmed Emerald inside and out.

She screwed up way more than she should, she knew, sometimes when she didn’t even know she’d done anything wrong. But she tried, she threw herself into every task her leader trusted her to carry out, took pride in a job well done. And Cinder understood that, correcting and forgiving her as she deserved. She was valued enough, needed enough, to warrant the attention. Cinder didn’t waste time or effort; she would have thrown anyone else away long ago. She made sure that Emerald knew that she would never be abandoned again.

Painful or not, the reminders always felt good, in the end. 

#accept my garbage #RWBY #emerald sustrai #cinder fall #emberald #Anonymous #kaen's fics

[mozart-and-mocha]

Major key with one flat

After getting that text from my relative minor, I got that feeling that something was wrong. Sometimes she did have very low moods, so I wasn’t surprised, but I felt like she needed someone to talk to. Why else would she have texted me?

I called D minor to check on her, but she hung up after a couple of exchanges. I was starting to feel worried, so I called D major, her parallel major, to check on her. I was still at the office, and I had a meeting going on, but I managed to excuse myself for a couple of minutes.

When it was time to go home, I checked my messages as I walked and bumped into a couple of walls. From what I read, my relative minor was ignoring her texts from D major. 

I called D major and hoped she would pick up straight away. She picked up on the fourth ring. “Hey, could we meet at D minor’s apartment? I think...“ I was interrupted before I could finish.

“Yeah, I understand. See you there,” D major said. With that, the call was disconnected. D major, always understanding the situation and not wasting any time.

I sighed as I brisk-walked to my car. Damn this whole battle between us and the government with their stupid restrictions on emotional expression and creativity on different art forms, classical music included. 

I got to the apartment and D major wasn’t there yet. I decided to go in first and talk to my relative minor alone. I sent a text to D major, I’m here and I’ll talk to her first - just wait here when you arrive.

I found myself in an empty living room with the lights on, with a phone on the couch. I pressed the on/off button and the screen lit up. Unread messages from D major. The bedroom door was shut, but unlocked. I pushed it open and went in.

I walked in and saw my relative minor standing alone, her back towards me, holding her favourite scarf that she had received a few years ago for Christmas. The position she was standing in allowed me to see her face from the bathroom mirror, since the bathroom door was open. Her expression mostly looked blank, but I thought I sensed a tiny flicker of grief. I stood still for a few seconds, and as I was about to speak, the focus came back into her eyes, like she was no longer lost in thought.

D minor seemed to have realised she wasn’t alone. I saw a look of surprise cross her face through her reflection, which was how she saw me, and she turned around to face me. “You’re...here?”

I took a step towards her. “You texted me, and I thought you needed me, so I came,” I replied. Just a fact, nothing grand about it. “I knew you weren’t okay,” I continued. I raised an arm towards her.

D minor moved towards me, and for a moment, I braced myself out of reflex. In the past, when someone moved towards me in the same manner, it was often followed by them attacking me and shoving me to the floor. Usually this happened when someone mocked my higher-than-average voice and gentle mannerisms. It often helped that I am tall and strong, as it meant I could defend myself, but that did not remove the years of trauma when I was constantly wondering if I would be attacked for being me. I suppose this is why I often thought I could understand my relative minor’s emotional pain. Back in the present, D minor fell into my arms, and instinctively I wrapped my arms around her in an embrace.

I felt her bury her face in my shoulder as she relaxed into me. “You really needed someone to understand how much you were hurting,” I said quietly. As I spoke, I realised my shoulder was damp.

She lifted her head slightly from my shoulder. “How did you know?” she said, her voice trembling.

“I’m your relative major, and I think I would know if you were suicidal, which you often are. Today wasn’t any different,” I replied.

“I’ve always thought that nobody would care, but I felt the very least I could do was give you an explanation,” she said, still leaning into me.

“I’ve always cared about you,” I said softly, still hugging her. “We all need to hear that from someone and have them mean it.” I wondered if she heard that enough from the people in her life. 

“I felt like I was bothering you and everyone else, so I thought you would be better off without me,” I heard D minor say, her words partially muffled. 

“Why would you think that?” I asked, confused. I knew I had my own life and problems to deal with, but it never meant that I cared about the people in my life any less. I had no idea my relative minor thought she was a bother to me.

“No reason...I just thought I would do everyone a favour and...” I heard her voice choking up and I wondered what she was going to say. I held her by her shoulders and looked into her eyes. For a second, we held eye contact before she looked away. Tonight, my relative minor seemed broken, like the mood of a quiet and slow piano piece in the key of D minor that could wrench the hearts of listeners. 

“Do you want to go outside?” I offered. Maybe, just maybe, a walk and some fresh air would clear her mind. 

“Sure,” she mumbled. I held her hand as we walked out to the living room, D major was sitting at the kitchen table like she had a few weeks ago, marking homework assignments while waiting like I had asked her to in my last text to her. She looked up at us.

“We’re going outside,” I announced.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you two were a couple,” D major commented. I turned to look at D minor, and her cheeks were turning pink. I was still holding her hand. Suddenly I had no idea what to do. Should I let go of her?

“Is that what humans think?” I said.

D major laughed. “Can’t blame them. People in romantic relationships often hold hands like the two of you are doing now. Like I said, it’s what I would think if I didn’t know the full context of this situation."

“Anyway, do you want to join us? Take a break from your work?” I said.

D major glanced at the assignments she was grading. “You two go ahead. I’m busy and I gotta get work done. Take care of my parallel minor for me, okay?” She smiled at D minor, and I could almost hear the dissonance in the room. Parallel keys with their emotions influencing each other often raised the tension in the room, similar to pairs of keys whose tonics formed a tritone. I thought back to my assignment with B minor and how it had taken immense effort from the two of us to work together. C major wanted to test how well tritone keys could work together in the event that our normal groups were scattered and the only pairings available were tritones. He felt that the two of us had the best chance of succeeding on the first try, thus giving hope to everyone else and inspiring them to work together in the future. Working in pairs as the minimum was a rule we all followed just in case we ever got into a situation, in which case we had better chances of winning or surviving long enough to call for backup. 

D minor and I walked out. The golden light of the setting sun shone on her face and a few strands of her hair flew in the gentle breeze. I was waiting for her to say something, but she remained silent.

“Is there something you need to talk about?” I said, trying to start a conversation.

D minor glanced around before replying hesitantly. “Actually, yeah.” There was silence for a few seconds before she continued speaking. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“Of course.” I slipped an arm around her shoulder and she leaned towards me, almost snuggling against my chest as we walked.

“I hate my life. I wish I didn’t revive after being knocked out in a fight. Sometimes, I even wish that...I could kill myself.” Her voice was soft.

It took me quite some time to find my voice. “Is this...a regular thing? Struggling alone, I mean?” I asked. 

“Yeah,” she mumbled. “Not that anyone cares. Except you, maybe. And D major.”

“I wish you had told me sooner.” 

“I didn’t want to bother you,” she said. 

“This isn’t bothering me.”

“I always had the impression everyone thought I was too gloomy and sad. I mean, think of those requiems, like the ones by Mozart and Franz von Suppe.”

“The saddest key, associated with death and depression? Not surprising. But maybe that’s why you’re so important in this battle. They keep targeting you, but really, you enable musicians to feel the other end of the emotional spectrum that people would rather ignore. But without sadness, anger, grief...you can’t really live.”

“I didn’t know you were so emotional,” D minor remarked. She seemed to have calmed down a little.

“Well, I’ve been attacked and knocked to the ground in many fights for being me, and sometimes I would wake up somewhere after a fight and wonder what was going on until you or one of the other keys showed up. And it affected me, knowing I was a target. So maybe that’s why I understand what you’re feeling.”

She nodded. “I remember finding you in an empty concert hall a few times, and you were rather disoriented. It was a shock to me to see you like that, since you’re usually the protective one, but I figured you had been in a bad fight. I never knew you were attacked like that, though.” After a pause, she added, “You’re quite sad for a major key.”

I held her slender hand, and for a moment, I imagined her sitting at a piano, playing the pieces of her favourite composers whom she’d worked with over the years. “Sometimes I think even the keys with more flats than the two of us are happier than us,” I said. We sat down on an empty bench, enjoying the last moments of daylight.

“I’m sorry,” I heard D minor say.

“For what?” I was confused.

“For sharing a key signature with you.”

I squeezed her hand affectionately. “Why are you sorry about that? I love being your relative major,” I replied sincerely. “We’ve always been F major and D minor.”

#d minor #d major #f major

[floral-and-fine]

The Wild Cat pt. 1

Female reader series in the Marvel universe (X-Men and Avengers) 

 A/N: Trying something new. This fic isn’t romantic…yet… We’ll see where this takes me. 

(*At the bottom I added my drawing of what I think the reader’s claws look like,  they’re more cat like compared to Wolverine’s, at least that is what I was going for.)

Summary: The reader wakes up in a cell and recalls the event that led up to her capture. There is a link for the prologue below! :)

Warning: Triggers, PTSD, Violence and Cursing.

Read prologue here

“Do you know where you are?” the voice asked. 

You didn’t bother to answer the question. Whoever was behind the microphone had been asking the same damn questions for the past hour. You didn’t have any of their answers anyways. And if you did why the hell would you cooperate? From what you could tell they were the bad guy here or you were. Either way you weren’t on the same side. 

“Let’s try this, do you know what you did?” 

You didn’t, and whatever it was it couldn’t have been good. In fact, you couldn’t remember the last few days leading up to being locked away. They had you strapped down to a chair in the center of the room facing a two way mirror. Your hands and legs were cuffed with no room to budge.  

With all these precautions, it meant they knew more or less with who they were dealing with, and they weren’t going to take any chances. Therefore, they had your military file or had first hand experience dealing with your skill set.  

“Listen,” the voice said sounding irritated, “you’re not helping anybody sitting there silently.” 

They seem desperate for answers. What the hell did you do? 

A new voice started to speak, it was deeper and calmer then the last. “Ma'am, who are Victor and James?” 

Your eyes snapped to the mirror across from you and narrowed in suspicion. What were they playing at now? 

 Again the voice repeated the same question, “Who are Victor and James?” 

“None of your fucking business,” you spat. 

If they didn’t know Victor and James, it meant they weren’t affiliated with the military or any of your known enemies. 

“Whoever they are, you seemed quite concerned about them… They were all you talked about when we caught you,” the new voice taunted. 

You snarled at the hidden man across from you, protected only by glass. He probably wouldn’t be so fucking calm if he were in the same room as you.

You took a deep breath… 

 Slowly, it all started coming back to you.  

. 

. 

. 

 It was about 4 o'clock in morning, when you pulled into a small town gas station to fill up your tank, grab a quick snack, and a cup of coffee. After purchasing your food and gas, you leaned against your truck while the nozzle did its job. You considered, taking a nap in the cab, but you only had a couple of hours to go. 

 You got back in your pick up, and took off towards the exit to get back on the highway. You couldn’t remember in great detail who was at fault for the accident, but you remembered being T-boned by a semi truck.  

It slammed right into the driver’s side of your pickup. You were tumbling around in the cab as your truck flipped. You were hanging upside down by your seat belt when it finally stopped rolling. The windows were all smashed in, several of your bones were broken, and your face was cut up.   

Disoriented, trapped, and in pain, you extended your claws. Something in you snapped. You felt completely primal and animalistic. You watched black boots approach. 

“Hey! Are you ok!? Are you alive!?” 

The man crouched down and peeked in, “Oh thank God, I thought for sure that you’d be dead.” 

The man, his face, and his clothes all morphed into someone else… A soldier- Vietnamese, and his words weren’t making any sense to you.

An instinctual rage took over as you lost your mind. The arid country side became the humid jungle, and survival was the only thing on your mind. Mentally, you were back in Vietnam, the last war you were in before it all went tits up. 

With a roar, you cut through your seat belt and launched at the door successfully breaking it off its hinges. 

The man fell backwards startled by your actions.  He reached for something in his coat pocket. But before he could withdraw it, you lunged at him digging your claws into his chest. 

You heard sirens approach, and several police cars pulled up. They got out of their vehicles cautiously, but it didn’t take them long to see that more than just a collision happened.  

You were leaning over the man with some type of knives plunged into his chest. They shined brightly, as the rising sun reflected against them. Slowly, they surrounded you but kept their distance. 

Someone spoke into a loud speaker, “Ma'am! please back away slowly, put your weapons down, and your hands above your head.” 

It was as if reality was going in and out of focus. One moment you saw police officers, the next they were a squad of Viet Congs. 

Then you heard the sound of a gun cock. 

And that was enough to set you off again. 

The poor soul didn’t stand a chance. You were on top of him, ripping him to shreds before moving onto the next one. Shots rang out from all sides, and few of them hit. A couple straight through your arm, a few to the chest, and one through your back. This only fueled your rampage and delusion more. You tore through the rest of them quickly. 

Then a thought crept into your head, adding to your paranoia. Where are your brothers? The three of you were a team. You fought all your battles together. “James?” you whispered, “Victor?” 

You took in a deep breath smelling your surroundings, trying hard to pick up their scent, but nothing. 

One of the cops managed to radio for back up.  “This is Officer Pike, we need immediate back up. This is an emergency… We have several officers in need of emergency medical treatme-” 

It didn’t take you long to find him. You stabbed him in the gut and took hold of the receiver. 

“Where are my brothers? Where are James and Victor!?” 

Somehow you became convinced, that Jimmy and Victor had become prisoners of the war and needed your help.  Because there’s just no way they would have left you… That wasn’t a possibility. They were the only people you had in this world. 

Soon more vehicles arrived, additional cop cars, ambulances, and a black SUV.  Of course, this wasn’t the sight you saw. In your head you were surrounded by the enemy.  You ran straight towards the group, claws fully extended before they could get their bearings.  

You stabbed one who just stepped out of his vehicle, then leaped over the roof of the car to get his partner. Quickly, you impaled the next man in his side, and sliced open another’s stomach.

A man to your left of you emptied his magazine, most of the bullets hit their mark, going straight through your chest. But you didn’t go down. As a last resort he took out his baton. He swung it at you, but before the hit landed, you ripped opened his neck. 

Then you heard a chopper overhead.You bolted as fast as you could trying to lose it.  

“Jimmy! Victor!” you cried. 

 You were out of breath and didn’t have a whole lot of options. Where were your brothers? The three of could take a whole army. Why couldn’t you find them? They wouldn’t have abandoned you. Your brothers would never leave you. 

 “VICTOR!” you screamed, breaking down and falling to your knees. “JIMMY!”

You didn’t notice the man from the black SUV sneak up on you from behind. Suddenly, it all went black. A bullet went straight through your head and it was enough to knock you out for a short period of time.

. 

. 

. 

A single tear slid down your face, as you stared at your reflection in the two way mirror. In that delusional state, you didn’t remember that you and your brothers went your separate ways. And while you knew the truth that you instead of enemy soldiers you attacked civilians. The panic and fear of not knowing where Victor and James were was very real.

Your current circumstance made a lot more sense now, and you knew you were fucked.

*My idea of what her claws look like :) but feel free to imagine them differently if you’d like :D

#wolverine #wolverine origins #victor creed #logan #x-men #marvel #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction #avengers #avengers fanfiction #x-men fanfiction #reader insert #female reader #logan howlett #sabertooth #x-men avengers crossover #brother!logan #brother!victor #james logan howlett #mcu #crossover #sabretooth #howlett family

[vicbartons]

#71 “You’ve been drinking tonight, haven’t you?” please?

omg erin, i´m so sorry that this took so long, but real life is keeping me busy lately. hope you like it anyway ♡

It´s the sound of metal scratching against wood over and over again that wakes Robert up.

He blinks a few times, feeling slightly disoriented for a minute, until he realises that he´s not in bed, but still curled up on the armchair in their living room. Feet tucked under himself and cuddling with a throw pillow. He must have falllen asleep waiting up for Aaron; somewhere between reruns of Doctor Who and whatever late-night teleshopping nonesense is occuping the screen now, the low, monotonous voice of its presenter filling the room.

As he turns towards their front door, where he assumes the headache-inducing noise is coming from, he can feel a light crick in his neck. Someday, Robert is going to admit to himself that he is too old to sleep on anything other than a proper matress. He lets out a small groan and runs a hand over his face to rub the sleep from his eyes. In hopes of adjusting to the dark room around him, only illuminated by the dim light of the television, he blinks a few times, but he can´t make out anything more than a moving shadow on the other side of the pane of glass in the door to their flat.

Suddenly, the scratching stops, but it doesn´t take long for it to be replaced by a slurred, explative-laced tirade.

Robert smiles to himself.

Aaron then. And he is definitely drunk. Not that Robert had expected anything else, with him being out on his stag do.

The scratching starts off again, a clear sign that Aaron´s key still hasn´t found its way into the key-hole. Begrudgingly, Robert pushes himself out of the armchair and stumbles towards the door, careful not to stub his toe on their living room table or to fall over whatever clobber Liv has undoubtedly managed to scatter across their floor over the course of the day.

When he finally lets Aaron in, he drunkenly flounders forwards and into him, clearly not having expected the door to suddenly give.

“Oi! Careful, you,“ Robert catches him in his arms, his hands finding their way under his husband’s armpits to pull him upright.

“´obert,“ Aaron mumbles, and a bright smile spreads across his face as soon as his eyes manage to focus on him.

He looks gorgeous like this; red cheeks, wide eyes and his hair sligthly ruffled, no sign of his usual scowl. “I´ve got ya,“ Robert reassures and he can´t help the grin that tugs at his own lips at the sight of his husband. No matter how long he lives, Robert is fairly certain that he will never tire of seeing Aaron smile.

“You´ve been drinking tonight, haven´t you?“ he teases.

“Funny,“ Aaron huffs a laugh, as he tries to steady himself by tightly holding onto Robert´s shoulders,“you´re funny.” His index finger taps against Robert´s chest a few times, before he´s grabbing Robert´s jumper to pull him close, until their noses are touching. “Missed ya,“ he whispers.

“You too,” Aaron´s nose scrunches up adorably at the admission, and god, if it weren´t for his drunkenness and the light stench of alcohol and cigarette smoke sticking to his hoodie, Robert would kiss him right now.

“Didn´t tell ´em that… how funny y´are,“ Aaron says, but Robert is too focused on trying to drag his husband towards their bedroom to question it.

It doesn´t take long for him to realise that there is absolutely no way he´s getting Aaron up the spiral staricase and into bed in this state, at the very least not without waking up Liv. Not for the first time since their move, Robert curses himself for having insisted on the damn thing, against Ronnie´s advice. (Obviously, he would never admit that to anyone. He wasn´t about to let the likes of Zak Dingle come into his home and critizise his sense of interior design, thanks very much.)

“Sofa it is then,“ he mutters under his breath, more to himself than to Aaron. “You need to help me out a bit here, Aaron.” Robert is trying to get them to the sofa somehow, Aaron´s arms around his shoulder. He tugs him in at the hip, but Aaron feels like a bag of concrete next to him, putting his full weight on Robert and practically letting himself be dragged across the room, “Come on.“

“Should ´ave told ´em…“

“Told who what?“ Robert asks, but Aaron doesn´t seem to notice and carries on with his ramblings instead.

“Said I was a right idiot for marrying ya again,“ Aaron shakes his head at that, as if the notion of him not agreeing to finally make this marriage legal is utterly ridiculous to him, but Robert grimaces.

Eventhough him and the Dingles are back to a somewhat cordial relationship, most of them having reluctantly accepted that Aaron wasn´t going to budge on his decision to stick with Robert, they still are far from his biggest fans. Nowadays, Robert only has to endure the odd more or less well-meaning jib, whenever he runs into one of Aaron´s family members. Though given that practically half the village is related to his husband in one way or another, it still happens far more often than Robert would like.

He takes every dig in stride though, feeling like that is the least he deserves considering his monumental fuck-up.

Nevertheless, he should have known that they would use their chance of getting Aaron on his own to launch one last proper intervention. As they should. It´s not like Robert himself doesn´t spent every walking hour of every day wondering what on earth he´s done right in life for Aaron to give him yet another chance, after everthing.

The answer is probably “nothing”. This is all Aaron. Fiercly loyal and with a heart of gold when it comes to the people he loves. And for some inexplicable reason, Robert is one of the few people lucky enough to be loved by Aaron Dingle. Deep down, he is still unsure if his husband wouldn´t be better off without him, no matter how many times Aaron tries to convince him of the opposite, but if Robert has learned anything over the past year, it´s that as much as he´s trying to change for the better, he is still far too selfish to not hold on as tightly as he can and take every chance he´s offered when it comes to Aaron.

”Ya know,“ Aaron continues, tilting his head to the side, an apologetic look on his face, “with Rebecca and the lying and the shirts.“

Robert knows it´s coming, but her name still feels like a punch to the gut and he can´t help but flinch at the sound of it. No matter how good things are right now, he will never forgive himself for what happened with Rebecca and the way he-  

”My shirts?“ Suddenly, there´s a quizzical look on his face.

Aaron gives him a small nod. “Look like a posh twat, Cain said,“ Robert opens his mouth at that, ready to argue, but then he closes it shut again without having uttered a word. With him bone-tired and Aaron wasted, it doesn´t really seem the time to point out that Cain Dingle, who - if Robert remembers correctly - spent years with a haircut that made him look like a 90´s grunge band reject, should be the last person to comment on anyone else´s appearance.

”But I told ´em where to shove it,“ Aaron says proudly, when they finally reach the sofa.

”Did you now?“ Robert´s lips quirk up in a smile as he lets Aaron lie down and starts to loosen his shoe laces to pull off his boots. His husband, oblivious to his efforts thanks to god knows how many pints, being no help at all in the process.

“Defended your ´onor, like a proper husband.“

Robert huffs, “Course you did,“ he says and takes the blanket that´s purched over the edge of their sofa to tug Aaron in.

He´s hovering right over him, pulling the blanket over his husband´s shoulders, when Aaron´s hand finds its way into his hair and he begins to speak again, soft and full of adoration. ”Told ´em that you´re gorgeous and clever,“ Robert´s cheeks flush slightly red at that. It´s not like he doesn´t know that Aaron loves him, but hearing small confirmations like these out loud still sends shivers down his spine.

Aaron let´s his fingers run down Robert´s face until they cup his chin and continues, “Best thing that´s ever happened to me, you.“ He´s practically beaming at him now, his voice low and raspy from fatigue and alcohol. “Not my fault that they don´t know how soft and all y´are, really, but I do,“ his thumb caresses Robert´s cheek, “I know.“

The words rush over him like a wave of affection, leaving him with that comfortable, warm feeling of home in his stomach that only Aaron ever makes him feel. Like in this moment, he is exactly where he’s supposed to be. “Good. You´re the only one who needs to know, right?” He kisses Aaron´s cheek lightly, a smile on his lips, “Got a reputation to uphold and all.”

“And ya can do that thing with your tongue,“ Robert pulls away a bit and shakes his head, eyes wide, hoping that Aaron isn´t talking about what he thinks he is talking about, “that thing, on the kitchen counter.“ His hand runs down his face to muffle an embarassed moan. Of course he couldn´t be that lucky.

“Christ Aaron, they didn´t need to know about that, did they?“ Robert could only hope that the rest of the party had come home in as much of a state as Aaron. Otherwise, they´d probably both have to spent the next few weeks hiding out at home, avoiding Adam and most of the Dingles at all costs.

“Should do that again,“ Aaron tries but fails to quirk his eyebrows at Robert as his heavy eyes slowly fall shut, his whole body desperate for sleep.

“Yeah right,“ Robert whispers warmly, chuckling, “No chance of that happening until you´ve sobered up.“

“Hmpf.“

Robert leaves him on the sofa, while he goes to get Aaron a glass of water and the aspirin that he´s certainly going to need by the time he wakes up. From the kitchen, out of the corner of his eye, he can see Aaron akwardly shuffling around on the sofa. He sends most of their cushions flying to the ground, sleepily trying to make himself comfortable.

Robert returns, finally switches off the tv and puts the glass and the tablet down on their coffee table. “Night”, he whispers, before placing a kiss on Aaron´s forhead while tugging the blanket tightly around him again, ready to leave him be for the night.

“Stay ´ere,“ Aaron mumbles. He reaches out to grab Robert´s hand, but misses in his drunken haze. Instead, he just lets it hover in the air between them.

Robert turns back towards him and laces their fingers together.

He knows that his back isn´t going to thank him for this come morning. But then again, sleeping in their bed without his husband next to him won´t make for a good night´s sleep either – he learned that the hard way, back during Aaron´s stint in prison – and Robert would take a bit of back pain over not having Aaron softly snorring on his shoulder while he holds him close any day.

So he lies down beside his husband. He tries to make both of them fit on their sofa properly by pulling Aaron on top of him, though his feet still end up dangling over the edge.

“´ove ya,“ Aaron hums against his skin, before pressing a sloppy kiss to Robert´s jaw. Robert leans in and lets his cheek rest against Aaron´s hair, as his eyes slowly close shut.

“Love you,too.“

#aaron x robert #aaron dingle #robert sugden #robron #emmerdale #sometimes i write stuff #forgottenwounds #asks