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handlesscombo · 2 years

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thoughts on sonic frontiers so far; got my copy early. spoilers under the cut!

i have at this point played through the first two islands, and just started the third. so i'll first organize thoughts by island, then do overalls afterward.

i will admit my bias: i have wanted (3D) sonic to be good again for so long, and this title has a lot going for it. knowing this, i will be as honest about what doesnt work as i can, and check myself as i go. would love to hear others' thoughts on it as well!

#1: Kronos Island

- THE KOCO. ARE SO BAbie. just need to get that off my chest. love love love them. little bell guys. fit in your arms and so cute and lovable. adore them and WILL be buying plushie as soon as it drops (amazon has a leaked listing for them, i know it's coming). anyway.

- running, jumping, homing attack all feel very smooth; strong sense of forward momentum and physically satisfying. captures the best of sonic gameplay, but does have a learning curve as button inputs for classic mechs have changed. homing attack is mapped to a diff button than jump, for example. but it does honestly feel better and makes room for more varied manuevers than previous games, ie a double jump and homing attack from the ground without jumping prior. gamefeel/controls are solid.

- the paraloop (or cyloop as it is called) is a very fun throwback to nights. love the idea that sonic inherited it from them, so to speak. adds a lot to the core gameplay, not just in combat; useful for solving puzzles, too. very solid addition

- camera is a bit fucky. generally it's fine, but there were instances where it flipped around unhelpfully/clipped through things. will hopefully be fixed in patches.

- architecture is lacking; visuals don't give a strong first impression. feels a bit empty, which is a big problem in a semi-open world game. this does improve later however

- cyberspace levels are going to be a hot-button issue across reviews. the implementation of them as separate from the open world is questionable, and the gameplay feels strangely more stiff than in the rest of the game. unsure why that is. architecturally and visually, i love them -- great lighting and colors, fast-paced, interesting to look at and compare to previous games' levels. familiar layouts mixed with unfamiliar visuals create this disjointed collage of somic's memories, which is the narrative explanation for them. interesting in concept, lukewarm in execution.

- enemy designs are interesting; mechanical, jagged, yet colorful; unlike anything in a prior sonic game. effective at creating an "otherworldly" and inter-dimensional feeling. would compare to how ultra beasts are distinctly unsettling because they don't resemble the pokemon we're used to.

- combat is engaging, but limited; have yet to unlock skills to make it snappier. at its core, however, feels good and almost platinum-esque; addition of strafing, parrying, combo counter adds sense of momentum and adrenaline that should always be present in sonic combat.

- unsure how to feel about the skill tree so far. not gonna comment until ive completed it.

- soundtrack evolves as you complete more of the area, layering in instruments and such. nice touch

- very satisfied with story and characterization. amy feels like her own distinct person and not just "annoying sonic love interest"; the two have really sincere conversations that add nuance to both of their characters. the subtlties are what ive dearly missed about the writing and havent felt since SA2. sonic is sooooo much less quippy and whedon-esque, fucking finally. ian flynn is a capable writer who understands what sonic storylines can be, and i hope they continue to let him helm these projects.

- side note that i love: in the original sonic cd, amy was supposed to be a fortune teller. this was sort of removed/scrapped from her canon over time, but flynn brought it back into the foreground! it's mentioned that she does tarot readings and has strong intuition and ability to empathize with people around her (not in a cringe "i am an empath" way, more like she tries to understand others as best she can and uses that insight for good). i really really like this direction for her character. one of the most impactful comvos in the game so far is with her, and i cant repeat it word for word, but it's about how amy wants to travel the world sharing the love she has for it with others. very sweet

- boss fight was incredibly hype, if a bit repetitive. soundtrack fucks so hard. boss looks like an evangelion, which is funny because sage's jpn voice actor also voiced rei ayanami haha. love the music, the shift into familiar super sonic controls. resembles the finalhazard fight in SA2

#2: Ares Island

- architecture vastly better than the first island; more to look at and crawl through, striking desert clay/cyan/purple/red color palette. the color grading between night and day is striking; amazing what good lighting can do :')

- cyberspace levels are beautiful in this one, reminiscent of sky sanctuary and the skeletal structure of radical highway. the looks continue to impress. gameplay remains a bit stiff

- this island has a mechanical theme to it: most enemies, boss fights , and puzzles are about timing-based precision exercises. i will admit these are my favorite parts of sonic games -- high-speed challenges with timing-based mechanical skill involved -- so i might be too biased in its favor to review it accurately. for my part, however, i will say that i found it snappy, engaging, and streamlined a la bayonetta. very satisfying to nail the timing when fighting enemies. people who dislike fast QTEs may like it less, but on a scale of david cage to bayonetta, they definitely lean into bayonetta, and feel approptiately organic/nice physicality.

- knuckles is my favorite sonic character, so i will say i wanted a bit more out of his convos with sonic. however, i love that flynn is able to combine multiple aspects of knuckles' identity into a consistent portrayal -- he is a warrior, a rival, a friend, an expert on ancient ruins, reclusive, and carries a debilitating loneliness that he cant fight on his own. he is more than previously dumbed-down interpretations of his character, and im very grateful for that. hes a glimpse of the old well-intentioned but gullible and stubborn character he was in s3k and the adventure era.

- boss design and mechanics were much more exciting than the first. soundtrack was equally hype and fucks. the aerial nature of the fight really added some pussy to it. im a professional games journalist

- more sprinklings of lore about the nature of these islands and the implications of their connections to chaos (sa1) and the chaos emeralds, as well as the true nature of the chaos emeralds. really interesting and keeps you guessing. looking forward to how it resolves

#3: Chaos Island

- not enthused about the amount of fog and grayness of this one so far. really hoping it develops more identity visually. kind of muddy, too. downgrade from ares

- mechanical theme seems to be more classic sonic design; lots of 2d segments and old-school spring traps, spikes, so on. waiting to see it develop

- already love the big brother dynamic sonic has with tails. the two are openly affectionate (hugs, etc) and endearing to watch. structurally i expect tails is going to figure out something major abt the tech of the islands, which is why they waited to have him appear until the third island. looking forward to it

Overall

i anticipate that this game is going to consistently score 6.5 or 7/10 at most review outlets. it's good, distinctly stronger in its identity and story than other sonic games, and a refreshing, much-needed change of pace tonally, visually, mechanically. it isn't blowing my mind yet (and i hope it will), but there is a palpable heart and ambition here that has been absent for a very long time.

the game's strongest asset so far is its story and boss/enemy design + combat, imo. the visuals are enjoyable amd striking on ares island, but the first and third would benefit from a rework. gameplay has a solid foundation and feels good

it's important to note that for 3d sonic, the bar has been on the Floor for years. my impressions likely express that whether i wanted them to or not; i do think that it's a valuable discussion, if separate from the game"s overall objective integrity, to unpack its improvements on the franchise. as such, i give you my two overall ratings:

as a sonic game: 8.5/10

as an overall game: 7/10

there u have it. please reply with thoughts if you also have any!!!!!

ps: game of the year because you can draw amogus and cock and balls with paraloops.

#sonic frontiers

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collectperceptreview · 5 months

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Homestuck Semi-First-Readthrough (Act 1)

This is, in my opinion, a very interesting start to this series. There's a lot to go over so let's just go through this point by point. Again, I haven't read the entirety of this comic (just around mid Act 4) so this will partially be me going over my thoughts in relation to what I've read and know thus far. Combined with my personal experiences and additions.

Character Introductions:

There are other posts on this website that go over it, but I'm gonna go and throw my own two cents in. The series does a great job introducing the primary characters by giving us their names, a look around their personal space (the two pictures above for example), and a list of what they're interested in. Like this really cuts in and gives us a very quick and detailed way of getting to know these characters, at least at a glance.

Additionally the story also helps differentiate characters by differentiating the ways that the characters message each other, for example: John (the picture above to the left) types in lowercase with use of punctuation while Rose (same but on the right) types with proper punctuation and capitalization. Like so [note: Rose is TT and John is EB].

Style:

Ok, legit, how do I describe the style of Homestuck. If I had to describe what Homestuck looks like (at least in Act 1), I would say that someone drew a simplistic looking room with a few odd details for character. Then they took various stock images and cutouts and put them through a black and white grainy-ass filter, then they used those images to collage the previous room. This is actually something I really like since it gives everything such a unique character to it.

On top of that, Homestuck has such an interesting blend of various things that make it unique. Gifs, links to video clips, music, flash animation, minigames, etc. People have talked about on here before but man oh man does Homestuck throw everything at the kitchen sink to create one of the most interesting webcomics just to experience.

Also the hard dissonance between ms paint drawings and stock images create a kind of really nice bizzaro absurdist humor.

Story:

Ok so just gonna put this out there I am by no means someone who writes for a living. I am going to college for writing but I have very little experience actually writing. So therefore I'm not sure How I should give an analysis of the story since I don't want to come off smarter than I actually am.

Anyway, the story starts off a bit slow, likely to ease the reader into Homestuck's fifty different styles of storytelling. It lets us slowly get to know both John and Rose, and also build up questions as to just what Sburb really is. The already wacky additions like the sylladex and strife specibus were more flourishes to make fun of adventure game tropes while also putting a fun little spin on it. And then Sburb comes in out of nowhere with the ability to mess around with actual real life objects (in universe) before summoning in a meteor that almost kills John.

Overall the introduction does a good job getting us ready for what we can expect. With some great tunes to go along with it.

I can't wait to reread Act 2 and see how that plays out with current knowledge. And also to hear some more great tunes.

Again, I'm reading Homestuck using The Unofficial Homestuck Collection, and you should give it a try if you want the ideal Homestuck experience.

#collect reviews #web comics #comics #homestuck #act 1 spoilers #I guess #I haven't gotten to see classpects yet but I do want to know what those are about.#Comment below If you want to discuss

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attllhak · 3 years

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Adoption AU - Wild and Warriors: The Epic Quest For Taco Bell at 3 am

@tortilla-of-courage so you mentioned you’d be interested in my Adoption AU one-shots, and now that things have calmed down in my house a bit I figured I’d post the first one-shot I wrote; the one about Wild and Warriors going for a Taco Bell run. Theoretically, I was going to do a one-shot for each grouping of boys, as an introduction, but I don’t think that’s happening anymore. Either way, here’s the first thing I wrote!

(And, anyone else who would like to be tagged if/when I post more for this AU, let me know here and I’ll make a list or something)

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

“anyone know any good substitutes for love and personal fulfilment?”

Warriors sent the tweet without much thought. He didn’t actually care about an answer, he just felt like venting about his most recent break up in a vague way, and thought he was being funny. He could already see Legend rolling his eyes.

His phone dinged a few times, one reply from Twilight, asking why he was up so late (which he’d responded to with the same inquiry, which had Twilight going silent), one from Legend mocking him, one from Hyrule trying to actually help. He was surprised how many of his brothers were up at this hour.

He dropped the phone on his bed, rubbing his eyes. He wasn’t actually all that tired, probably a consequence of having all afternoon classes and a habit of leaving his work to the last minute. Eh, the first year was supposed to be mostly parties anyways. (Not that Time would ever find out he said that.)

His phone dinged again and he groaned, eying the clock and the small bottle of melatonin next to it. 2:43 am. He should sleep. He didn’t have anything tomorrow, he finished his last final earlier that afternoon, though, so a few more minutes couldn’t hurt.

He picked up the phone and woke it up again. He blinked a few times at the new reply.

“crunchwrap supreme from taco bell”

He ignored Twilight yelling at Wild for being up, as apparently Wild did have a final tomorrow still. Not that Wild was paying any more attention.

He snorted, hitting the like button on Wild’s tweet and clicking off his phone. He reached up to stretch, yawning as he did. He eyed the melatonin bottle again. Technically, he didn’t need the supplements to sleep, but with how messed up his sleep schedule was, they did help him knock out when he planned on sleeping at a reasonable hour. This wasn’t a reasonable hour, but sleepiness hadn’t set in yet either.

Before he could decide, his phone lit up with a text notification. He tilted his head back and pointed his phone down to look at instead of dropping his arms.

Gordon Ramsey 2:44 am

lets go

Warriors blinked once. Then again. He unlocked his phone to type back.

what?????? go where?????

A second passed when he got a reply.

taco bell

for your substitute for love

since you got dumped and need something

oops was that too soon

sorry

Warriors blinked at the screen again. Wild lived twenty minutes away from the university Warriors was attending, and the nearest Taco Bell was no closer. Plus, Time had revoked Wild’s driving privileges after he crashed his bike into the barn and broke both and his arm. There was no way Wild was getting to the university, much less a fast food joint. Especially at this hour.

and how do you plan to do that? You aren’t allowed to drive yet Mr. Broken Arm

you have a care

*car

That was a very good point.

you are suggesting that I drive 20mins outside of town to pick you up, drive another 20mins back into town, then drive around downtown until we find an open taco bell, at 3am on a school night before you have a final?

There was a few seconds pause, just long enough for Warriors to consider that he’d given up on it.

we wont be driving all over town

i googled it and found one

its like 10mins form your collage

*from

*college

Warriors considered that.

twilight won’t be happy

only if he finds out

Wild made a very good point.

how do you plan to get out of the house without him noticing?

i have a window war

The response was so immediate, and he was probably sleep deprived enough, that he burst out laughing when it sent.

20mins

He clicked his phone shut and shoved it in his pocket, grabbing a jacket and his scarf on the way out of his room. He was struggling to shrug them both on at once when he realized his roommate was still up too. There was a tense staredown as their eyes met and they both froze.

Volga broke the standoff by closing his book. “And where are you going at this hour?”

Warriors considered that. “My brother bribed me with food to break him out of the house,”

“At,” he glanced at his watch, “two forty-nine am?”

“Yes,”

The silence was tense.

Volga sighed and opened his book again. “Don’t crash and die, I’d hate to have to get a new roommate when I’ve finally gotten used to you,”

“Don’t burn the dorm down while I’m gone,” Warriors joked back, finally getting the fabric to work with him.

“It happened once, and it’s not like you’re any better at cooking!”

“I don’t set what I make on fire, and then freak out and throw it when blowing out that fire doesn’t work,” he grabbed his keys from the dish by the door and waved behind him.

“It happened once, Link!”

“And it’s why we order out now,” he grinned, ducking out the door. “See you later, Volg, be back in an hour or so,”

He could hear Volga’s angry shout through the door, so hurried down the stairs to the ground level as quickly as he could, before Volga woke their neighbor again.

He was still giggling when he got to the parking lot. Volga was just too easy to rile up.

The cool night air woke him up a little more so, and he took a deep breath as he located his car. A hand-me-down vehicle, he inherited it from Time when he was old enough to drive. Mostly this was so he could stop asking everyone else for their cars when he wanted to go somewhere. A little elbow grease however, and no one could tell it was at least 20 years old and not fresh off the lot. He made sure none of his brothers were allowed to drive it, especially after Wild got his bike stuck in a tree, or Legend crashed into a lake, or Twilight picked up drag racing, or Wild got his bike stuck on the roof, or Hyrule lost his car, or Four rolled his truck, or Wild and the barn literally last week. A lot of the crashes in the family came from Wild going ‘oh yeah? Watch this!’ now that he thought about it. It was a miracle he still had the same bike.

The twenty minute drive to the farm was pretty boring, nothing of note really happening.

He turned off his headlights as he pulled into the drive, not wanting to wake anyone, especially Time, up. He shot off a quick text to Wild when he parked.

A window opened and Legend’s head poked out to glare at him. His phone dinged.

Royal Pain 3:12 am

what are you doing here?

He glared back at Legend and typed out a response.

taco bell run

Legend glanced down, presumably at his phone, then back up a Warriors with an incredulous expression.

at 3am????

and if so why are you /here/????

Warriors pointedly looked around the house where Wild emerged from the bushes. Said brother grinned and popped open the passenger door to climb in.

“Hey,” he grinned. His hair was a mess, with at least two visible sticks stuck in it, and he was still in his sleep clothes. Despite this, he seemed fine.

“Legend has us made,” Warriors nodded to their brother, who was still glaring with his head out the window.

Royal Pain 3:15 am

twilight won’t be happy about this

Warriors frowned, trying to shield his phone from Wild as he typed back.

twilight won’t know

Warriors did not like the look in Legend’s eyes as he got the next text.

unless i tell him

Warriors glared up at his brother, working his jaw.

what do you want?

He hated the pleased grin Legend shot him.

the most expensive thing on the menu on your dime

fine

Warriors shoved his phone away with a growl, flipping off the overly smug Legend as he put the car in gear. “Asshole,” he muttered.

“What was that about?” Wild asked.

“We’re buying him food too now,” Warriors growled, flicking back on his headlights.

“Oh, cool,” Wild leaned back into the seat and pulled out his phone. “So the Taco Bell we’re going to only has the drive thru open, and it’s just off main street,”

Warriors nodded, focussing on the road and not that Wild had found the aux cord.

About thirty minutes later, as Wild finally turned down the music to provide directions, he snapped and turned to Warriors mid direction. “Do you want to sign my cast?”

Warriors blinked. “Maybe when we stop, I’m not crashing to sign your cast right now.”

Wild nodded, and pointed across Warriors at the street they had to go down.

They pulled into the drive thru and ordered, then had to wait for the very expensive thing Legend wanted. Warriors turned to Wild as the car idled.

“Do you have a marker?”

Wild blinked at him, then brightened up and offered out a sharpie and his right arm. The cast, under the signatures and well wishes of their family and all of Wild’s friends, was painted in very poorly drawn flames. Warriors raised an eyebrow as he searched for a clear spot to sign.

“Hyrule painted it for me,” Wild explained with a grin.

“Ah,” Warriors hummed as he finally tracked down an empty space by Wild’s elbow.

He scrawled out his name, not much room for anything else, and then handed the capped sharpie back to Wild while he twisted around to accept the food from the drive thru worker.

He shot off a text to Legend to let him know they had his food, alongside an upset emoji. Legend sent him a devil face emoji back. Wild dug through the bag for his food, sharpie stuck in his hair alongside the twigs, which seemed to be multiplying.

Warriors rolled his eyes and pulled back onto the road.

At some point, Wild pulled the wrap out and handed it to Warriors, who ate one handed as he drove. Wild was right about one thing, the wrap did taste very good.

He pulled into the drive of the farmhouse, headlights off, just as he finished off the wrap. He phone dinged the second he put the car in park.

Royal Pain 3:58 am

where’s my food bitch

Warriors looked up to the window where Legend was leaning out and glaring at him.

Wild laughed at the surly look on Legend’s face, climbing out and taking the bag with him. “I’ll feed him,” he promised, grinning. “Thanks for the trip, War!”

“No problem,” Warriors grinned back. “Just make sure you get to bed once you’re inside, so Twi doesn’t suspect in the morning,”

Wild gave him a thumbs up. He shut the door a little too hard, making Warriors wince, and bounced up to throw the bag up to Legend. Legend caught it the second time, when Wild opted to use his not broken arm to toss it, and disappeared inside again. Warriors’ phone dinged again a few seconds later.

Royal Pain 4:00 am

thanks pretty boy

your secret is safe with me

for now

Warriors rolled his eyes and sent him a thumbs up back, then pulled out of the drive again to head back to campus. He was actually starting to feel tired now, so he figured he’d get home and just crash. It’d be like, 4:30 in the morning by then, and he was pretty sure Volga would be asleep. And if he wasn’t, they had a rule that after 4 am until 7 they were allowed to ignore each other, so it’d be fine.

Volga was asleep when Warriors snuck in, passed out in a chair with the book on his chest. Warriors took the sight in, then sighed.

He dropped his keys in the dish, then pulled off his jacket and scarf to hang in his room. He grabbed a bookmark off his shelf and wandered back out to pull the book off of Volga’s chest and set it down so the spine wouldn’t crease. He left Volga like that, however. He didn’t want the books to get damaged, but if Volga was dumb enough to fall asleep in the common room without a blanket, then he deserved what he woke up with.

He was very lucky that Warriors was too tired to find a sharpie.

He fell asleep before remembering to take off his shoes.

(---)

The next morning, so about noon, he was woken by Volga pounding on the door to put his phone on silent.

His phone buzzed on the desk next to him and he pulled it off and up to his head, hitting answer before looking at the contact.

“Hullo?” He slurred, still half asleep.

“Twilight knows,” Legend greeted him.

“What?” Warriors sat up, groaning as his back complained from sleeping on his stomach all night. It took a second for his brain to catch up.

“Twilight knows,” Legend repeated. “Hyrule sold you out, unintentionally, and I can hear him selling you both out to Time,”

Warriors blanched as the words registered. “Oh shit,” he threw himself out of bed, hissing as he realized he slept fully dressed, and scrambled for the things he’d need in order to flee. “How long?”

“Twenty minutes if you get lucky and Wind pulls through, less if not,”

Warriors cursed under his breath as he changed his shirt and tried to make it look like he hadn’t been sleeping in what he was wearing. “Thanks for the heads up, I’d say I owe you but,”

“You’d rather not owe me,”

“Yeah,”

“Look, if you get caught and cave, I go down too. This is self-preservation. Don’t cave and we’re even.”

“Got it, I won’t,”

“You better not,” Legend hissed. “Good luck,”

“Thanks,” Warriors nodded, even though Legend couldn’t see him.

He tossed the phone on his dresser as the line went dead and he went about trying to comb through his hair so he looked presentable.

A hard knock on his door came a few seconds later.

“I put my phone on vibrate, Volga!” He shouted through the door. “You can drop it now!”

“Link?”

Warriors paused, then opened the door. Lana, Impa and Artemis waited on the other side, Volga glaring at them and hovering behind them.

Warriors blinked dumbly at them. “Uh, hi?”

“Hi Link! Good morning!” Lana grinned and waved at him.

“It’s noon,” Impa reminded the group, eying Warriors up and down.

“Oh, right,” Lana nodded, then went back to grinning at him. “Good noon, Link!”

He snorted and shook his head to clear it. “Good noon to you too, Lana. Can I ask what you’re all doing here?”

“We were hoping you’d join us for something,” Artemis smiled at him, also looking him over, trying to find whatever Impa had picked up on. “We’re going on a small road trip since all our finals are over, and we were planning on hitting a few different cities over the week,”

“Mhm,” Lana nodded quickly. “We’re leaving today, and are taking no calls until we get back, and we’re camping in the car, which is why we’re using my van, and we were hoping you’d come with us,”

“I’m in,”

The three girls blinked at him. Maybe he answered too fast, but taking no calls, meaning no contact with his family, for a week gave them time to move past this, and he really didn’t want to deal with a lecture from Time. His friends just offered him asylum, whether they knew it or not.

Impa narrowed her eyes. “What happened with your family?” She asked, already onto him.

“Nothing that’s my fault,” he responded, ducking back into his room. “What should I bring with?”

Lana listed off what they figured they’d take and he pulled out a suitcase, nodding along as he started packing. He fired off a text to the group chat as he grabbed his jacket, tossed over one arm, and wrapped his scarf around his neck.

World’s Best Captain 11:39 am

Leaving on a road trip with some friends. Be back in a week, but I can’t take calls until I’m back. Don’t kill each other!

He put his phone on silent and slipped it into his pocket.

He might have a hellish text backlog when he got back, but it’d be better than the lecture from Time. And besides, he got to spend a week with the best girls he knew.

As far as he was concerned, everything worked out win-win for him.

Wild was right, the crunchwrap supreme from Taco Bell did work wonders in supplying love and personal fulfilment, even if not in the way he meant it.

He made a note to get Wild something as thanks while they were out. Maybe some crash pads. Goddesses knew that his brother needed them.

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diary-of-an-onliner · 4 years

Text

lifelines [g.w.]

hi! first fic, pls be nice!

word count: 2300

warnings: none

After Gryffindor turned the tides at the last second, winning the second most important game of the season after a massive setback in the first hour, the celebrations raged harder than ever. Since Hufflepuff had beaten Slytherin to the ground two days ago, the path towards the Cup was clear. Angelina was sitting on the couch, having passed the point of looking pleased long ago, and now seemed almost frazzled by the result. People came up to her periodically, clapping her shoulder or topping off her drink, directing the buzzing energy of the common room straight into her.

Truly, the atmosphere was phenomenal, the stolen food and drinks from the kitchens juicer and a little more spiked than usual. Or maybe it was the sunlight still streaming through the windows as strongly as ever despite the past gloomy week. Whatever it was that made the day so electrically happy for everyone, it showed no signs of stopping.

This type of unrestrained feeling you always imagined started from the back of your head as s little star-like scribble that cast a net over you and spread the intensity throughout. This week it was stronger than it has been in a while.

You felt electric in the stands as you yelled for your team, an invisible line ripping the words from your throat before you even knew you were saying them. You felt elated as your housemates put their hands around you in delight, screaming themselves sore when they announced the winner. And you were feeling the happiness in your hair now, in every single strand from root to end as it swayed along with the bottle in your hand.

This was happy. This was joyful. This was utterly buttery in your chest and electric in the air.

You idly looked around the red and orange common room, which burned with excitement, deciding how to best spend this time before it runs out on Umbridge's watch and she ruins it.

No. No wasting thoughts on her today. She sucked enough life out of you and your housemates this year, she won't be doing it off the clock too.

Your eyes settled on possibly one of the strongest sources of this warmth - George Weasley, sitting on the arm of the couch next to his brother. The window behind him silhouetted him in gold perfectly, like the sun offered him to you. It accented how attractive he was, even if he burned a little at the top.

You've connected eyes before, talked before, even bantered. One wittier than the other every odd day, you toed the line between acquaintances and friends perfectly. Seeing as he's very popular, catching him in-between conversations was a matter of luck.

You imagined a line going from the center of your chest to his as you approached him. He pensively looked to the side, observing some goings-on on the far end of the room as you interrupted him.

"That was a good game. You got some very nice shots in," you said.

He turned to you with a mild close-mouthed 'hm', a look, and then a grin.

"You sure it was me?" he cocked his eyebrow and look at Fred on the couch next to Angelina, bumping knees with her and accepting congratulations in both of their names.

"You wear different numbers, genius. I know how to count this time."

"And you have my number memorized," he said, his voice glad.

"That would've been a great line if you were a Muggle."

"Pity, I already chose a magical career." he took a sip of his butterbeer and eyed you up, "Maybe I should start using my magical lines on you. Would those work better?" his eyes widened and his tone turned innocent at the end.

"I think I know too much anti-jinxes for that."

He pursed his lips in amusement. "Alright. What would work on you then?"

"Oh, I find responsibility and appropriacy really hot." you shot back, twirling a piece of your happy, charged up hair.

"Contradiction too," he said, "since you're still here."

"I find contradiction a natural state of the human soul, thus if I wasn't contradicting myself, I wouldn't fully be here."

"Hm. Brainy." he chuckled.

"Judgy. If you need me to simplify you can just say so."

"I think I can handle your smart mouth just fine."

"Then why am I winning?"

"I didn't realize this was a competition."

"Rookie mistake." you shook your head dramatically.

"I'm pretty sure it's a rookier mistake to assume you're winning. Who's the judge?"

"My innate inner sense of whether I'm winning or not."

"If it's inside you, then how would one file a complaint concerning an unfair ruling?"

"They wouldn't. It's a noble and just system that decided I'm in the lead. You just need to accept the truth."

"Don't make me come in there," he said, smirking good-naturedly.

"In where?" you shot back.

"In you." his smirk held on for a second before he seemed to realize what he said and his face scrunched up in apologetic laughter.

Your mind slipped into the gutter the way new yorkers fall into sinkholes filled with rats - hilariously fast.

Albeit greatly amused, he started to correct himself, "I didn't mean-"

"No, of course not." you licked your lips, "I understood you the first time " Was karma going to bite you in the ass for that lie? Who knows, but you might even be into that. Everything seems possible when the sun is shining. So he shone.

He grinned with his happy mouth and you once again noted how the light from the window behind him silhouetted him in the golden lining that made him look like a cutout glued onto the scene of this funny collage. His hair was aflame and his face was darker from the shadows but just as loudly burning with laughter.

This was happy.

You drew the word in your mind, line by line. H, a smooth move from the bottom, a decorative loop, then a parallel stroke, and a transversal. A, a circle with a tail, sharp move upward, and an even sharper drop for the backbone of p. P's tummy? Bulge? Nope, your mind shouldn't slip there in the middle of Binns’ class, no matter how boring he was. Another p, as George's knee bumped into yours. He was moved from "Mr. Wester, Phillip." for being disruptive, so he engaged in an under-the-table kind of disruption with his new tablemate.

You smiled. A long diagonal line, and another shorter one that cut into it. Y.

Happy.

You were, truly, right now. It sounded upside down to be happy though, both overall and when stuck in a soul-suckingly draining class, but you were.

George read over your shoulder, then audaciously engaged in over-the-table elbow-bumping-disruption and a cocked eyebrow. You straightened up, feeling a warm line unfold from the back of your head to the core of your brain, through the center of your chest, and straight to your stomach. Your happy line.

I'm happy, you mouthed.

Really? He mouthed back sarcastically yet good-naturedly. I can definitely see why. His eyes darted toward the professor. I say go for it, he's a catch. You might even be his type.

You burst out laughing, then immediately bit your lip. A few students, including Philip, looked at you as you shook with laughter, but professor Binns carried on.

George, on the other hand, shrugged with his shit-eating grin, pretending he has no idea why you were laughing, thus letting everyone know why you were laughing.

You scribbled, I don't know. What if it goes badly. I'd hate to be ghosted.

George raised his eyebrows at the Muggle slang you explained before. His hand slipped next to yours on the table and you felt your happy line thrum in approval. His hand was warm as he gently pressed it to yours, slowly took your quill, and scribbled back: Need someone more physical, huh? And I thought you were the romantic type.

Strong words for someone who never bought me dinner, you replied.

Mhm, as soon as I find a good line get you to agree to it.

Keep writing like that and I'll start thinking you fancy me.

Keep your mind in the gutter and I'll start thinking you don't fancy me back. He accented that line with a wink and an overdramatic lip bite.

You pouted sarcastically at him. Of course not, I only want you for your knobby knees.

He chuckled, reminded of the short line of warmth that connected your knees under the table. He pressed his into yours a little stronger, then pulled away.

That's a funny way of flirting. I'd know, I'm an expert at funny.

Self-proclaimed.

Untrue.

And I'm not flirting. If I was, you'd know it.

Would you? your breath hitched. For reasons you very well knew but refused to sound out to yourself, this short sentence drove the air around you two from joking to serious at breakneck speed.

Know if you were flirting with me? your happy line felt jumbled up in your stomach. He smiled at you.

Would you know if you were flirting with me?

The following week was arduous.

Gryffindors had a record amount of detentions, and Snape tore into them any and every chance he could. Even McGonagall was one edge, meaning lousy or missed homework was a death sentence. You forgot how to read from tiredness, submitting essays patchworked of other people's thoughts without ever having any information pass through your head. Everything was dull, gray, and dragged out.

Despite that, outside the castle the sky was blue and sunlight streamed through the soft clouds and a sweet breeze would blow around aimlessly. It was both comforting and a little mocking. The sky should be as exhausted and as beaten down as you. Good to know stress made you compare yourself to a literal sky. But maybe that's a little cruel. Nevertheless, it sounded like nature itself was turning its nose up at you, saying you're selfish for wanting grey skies, she doesn't care, she's above puny human affairs. The world turns and you have to turn with it or stop, then spend the rest of the time catching up.

You haven't stopped yet, but by all that is holy, you wanted to sleep. As the sun finally descended on a Friday after dinner, you finished your essays in hope that the next week might be kinder if you do everything quickly. The common room was dark, most of the light coming from the fire in the fireplace. It was also oddly empty for nine-thirty in the evening. Apparently, everyone had the same week as you.

Your almost finished essay laid on the table as you dozed, swinging your legs back and forth over the edge of your armchair.

The creak of the portrait opening caught your attention, and George Weasley walked in a second later, rubbing his sore hand and cussing.

Truly everyone had a shitty week.

"Love?" you said teasingly.

He looked up at you with a tired grin.

"It's late."

"Not really. You okay?"

"Nothing I can't handle, love." he sighed, leaning against the wall next to the fireplace.

"Can I see?" you crossed the room to stand in front of him. Again, the firelight licked at the lines of his face, clear and sharp. He had circles under his eyes and a heavily nibbled lip.

"It's nothing." still, George raised his hand. "Love." he added, distantly. He seemed to be staring right above your head. You looked at the middle line of his lips again. You imagined him biting it.

Was it him that bit it? That one hurt. You hoped it was him.

You took his hand in your and rubbed circles into his knuckles. His eye winced.

"I'm sorry."

"S'not your fault."

"What happened?" he closed his eyes.

"Two ickle firsties almost brought the wrath of Umbridge into themselves with some dungbombs. You know how it goes," he said, a corner of his lip tugging upwards. Your chest expanded looking at him being satisfied with himself. As he should be.

"How... responsible of you," you said.

His eyes snapped downwards to yours.

"Keep looking at me like that and I might also start being appropriate too, darling."

You stepped closer, your happy line thrumming against your chest like a quivering violin string.

"What if being responsible is enough?"

"Enough for what?" he breathed out before you pressed yourself against him.

At first, that's was it was - a press of two warm lips. Then he started to move slowly, almost gentlemanly. How appropriate.

As he touched you, you felt the daze of last week lift. The little star scribble on the back of your head lit up, pulsing with brightness rather than fogging your thought. This was clear, you felt his every stroke that made up his face and chest and hands. The scribble of happiness extended itself into a web, overtaking your brain - you could feel it and you wondered if he saw it too when he looked at you. You pulled away and lifted your head to check. Probably not, but his eyes were glassy and he gave you a dopey smile. He was glad you were there. You pressed your lips against his again. You were glad he was there too.

The web continued down your neck, arms and chest, into your legs until your toes buzzed with light coursing through you. You were more awake than you have been in a long time.

Your hands were the brightest of all, and as you touched his hands, connecting them fingertip to fingertip, things made sense. The web buzzed and his breath was warm against yours, hands pulsing with energy as your every lifeline connected into his.

#george weasely #fanfic #hp fanfic #george weasley x reader

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youreacowgirllikeme · 3 years

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Time Will Tell: Part Two

note: alright, here is part two of @peppermintschnappss request (if you haven’t yet, you can read part one HERE) this one’s a bit smuttier and fluffier, I hope you like it

words: 4.1 k

warnings: swearing, smut (fingering, unprotected sex)

enjoy :)

(New York City, six years later)

“Alright, here we are, welcome to your new office, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Wow, its bigger than I imagined. Nice change from the cubicle back at my old firm.” You joked, looking around the room. It was modest, but it was your own, a fact that filled you with immense pride.

“Well, you’re a senior associate now.” Your new boss replied, “Get used to it.”

+++

After your boss had left, you used the short moment of quiet to set up some personal items on your desk before the real work started.

There was one framed picture of you and your best friends, taken when you all graduated from Georgetown Law, arms around each other, smiling at the camera. The next one showed you and your parents, you had just passed the bar exam and your mum was looking like she had been crying just moments before the photo was taken. The last one was a collage the colleagues from your old law firm in DC had given to you as a good-bye-gift.

You had worked there for over two years and had loved it, but when you got the opportunity to work for one of the countries most renowned law firms, you had packed your bags and moved to New York City without a second thought.

The city was still a bit overwhelming, but this job was the career launch pad you had waited for, and you were excited to finally get started.

There was a knock on the door of your office, pulling you out of your thoughts. A friendly looking young man appeared, quickly introducing himself as one of the firms’ paralegals.

“We all gather for the morning meeting in the conference room in five minutes. The boss will introduce you and maybe already set you up with your first tasks.” he told you, “Just follow me, I’ll show you the way.”

The meeting room was already packed with people, and of course everyone was looking at you, the newcomer. You tried to appear confident, smiling at the new faces even though your heart was almost jumping out of your chest.

The boss introduced you to the other employees and started to go through the current cases. There was a lot of financial law, mergers and stuff, but the firm had a very broad operation field, and you hoped to be assigned to an environmental or human rights case sooner or later.

When the meeting was over, the boss asked you to stay behind.

“You’re new here, Ms. Y/N, so I’m going to assign you a pro-bono case first. This is how we operate at our firm.”

You nodded in agreement, this was standard practice.

“One of our other senior associates has already been assigned to this one, but its more work than we expected, so I figured he could use some help. That way you can familiarize yourself with how we work here, and your next case will be your own. Understood?”

“Yes Sir.” You replied, trying not to be disappointed. You were eager to work with your own client, but getting some help from a colleague maybe wasn’t the worst idea. Also you could use a friend at this new place, and nothing was better for that than working on tough case together.

“So, who will I be working with?”

Your boss looked around the people still filtering out of the conference room with a scowl on his face.

“Technically, he should be around here somewhere. I bet he’s late again, always the same shit. If he wasn’t so good at his job, I would have fired him ages ago.”

“Apologies, boss, I wish I could say that it won’t happen again.” A loud voice called out from behind you.

You felt like someone had slapped you in the face. You would recognize this arrogant tone everywhere.

You whirled around and came face to face with Chris Cuomo.

+++

“You?” The both of you said simultaneously, voices full of disbelief.

He looked different, the boyish features were gone, his jawline was sharper and his hair shorter. What was still there was his damn arrogant stance, the way he had strutted in here almost an hour to late and got away with a cocky reply told you everything you needed to know. This was still the same insolent guy who, for some reason, still got admired by everyone. How could fate screw you over like that?

“Oh, you already know each other, splendid.” Your boss exclaimed, “Christopher, Ms. Y/L/N is our newest senior associate. I assigned her to help you with your current case, show her how we work around here, would you?”

You had to give it to Chris, he didn’t even flinch. “Absolutely, Sir. Follow me.” He said, directed at you. He left so fast, you had to hurry to keep up with his big strides.

“Could you maybe wait a second.” You called after him, but he totally ignored you, walking towards a door at the end of the hallway.

You followed him into what you supposed was his office. It was a bit larger than yours, with a view over the skyline instead of the alley behind the building.

Once you were inside the room, Chris slammed the door shut behind you.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he hissed, looking incredibly annoyed now.

“What do you mean? I’m working here, Cuomo, I started today.”

Chris ran his hand over his face and fell into the chair behind his desk.

“Look, this won’t work. I’ve been on this case for weeks now, and I won’t let you interfere with it.”

You stopped for a moment. Chris Cuomo, working on a pro bono case for weeks?

“Why are you being so difficult about this? It’s a pro bono. Why don’t trust you with a real client anyway?” you asked, and were surprised how superficial and mean that sounded even to your own ears. How did he still bring out the worst side of you, even after you hadn’t seen him for years?

“Not that it’s any of your concern, but they want to make me a junior partner soon. I’ve been here for four years, they hired me right out of law school. I’m one of the best attorneys employed here and I specifically asked for this case because I care about the people involved. So you can either help me and give those clients the attention and energy they deserve or I’ll have your ass out of here in less than a week.” he was almost yelling by now, fists clenched on his desk and you took a step back in face of his anger.

“Alright, I am sorry, no need to be so hostile.” You murmured. “Give me an overview and we can get started.”

+++

The case was about two young men from Queens who were accused of robbing a drugstore. Chris insisted that they were victims of racial profiling and weren’t guilty of the charges, they had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“They are telling the truth, I just know it.” Chris replied when you asked him how he could be so sure, and the tone of his voice made you refrain from questioning him any further.

He had given you a short, clipped outline of the case and now there were tons of files you had to read to get up to date.

After about two hours of working next to each other in tense silence, you decided to extend an olive branch to Chris.

“So, how have you been, Cuomo? Never heard from you again after Yale.”

Chris looked up from the file he was reading, shooting you a wary glance across the table.

“I went to Fordham, got my JD, passed the bar and started working here. I didn’t think you’d ever want to hear from me again. I’m not sure if you remember, but we didn’t exactly get along.” He replied, his voice was hard and his posture rigid, as if it made him extremely uncomfortable to even talk to you.

You sighted, debating what to say next.

“We didn’t, I hated you, in fact.”

Chris face gave the tiniest flinch and you mentally slapped yourself. Why had you just said that?

“Sorry, that was totally insensitive. I don’t hate you, not anymore. We were almost kids back then, and I was self-righteous so many times. I’m sorry for that, I just hope we can act like professionals now and try to get along, for the sake of the clients.”

“I can manage that if you do.” Chris mumbled, and got back to reading the files, effectively ending the conversation.

+++

Working alongside Chris went better than expected, even if it often was hard work to engage him in conversation. You had always assumed that he was one of the most self-centered people ever, but he spent most of his time at the office, pouring all of his energy into a pro bono case, so maybe that wasn’t true after all.

A paralegal had revealed to you that the two men you were defending were from the neighborhood Chris was raised in and knowing that made you more sympathetic towards him.

You had thought about him from time to time during the past years, but always pictured him as one of those attorneys without morals who would walk over dead bodies to win a case. But he wasn’t. He was relentless, yes, but for the right reasons, and you started to admire him for his dedication to the cause.

+++

In the following weeks, the initial icy atmosphere between the two of you had thawed and Chris became more approachable.

He was still arrogant and insufferable, but had matured in a way that really surprised you. By now you were even having private conversations during your short lunch breaks, bantering back and forth, but in a friendly way.

Right now, he was ranting about the current season of the Mets. You had no clue about baseball, but the way his eyes lit up when he was explaining something he was passionate about was mesmerizing.

“You look like a fish, Y/N, don’t pretend you know anything about baseball, I can see right through you.” Chris chuckled, yanking you out of your daydreams. You blushed a bit, he had caught you staring at him.

“I was actually thinking about the case, Cuomo, we can’t all do sports talk the entire day.”

“I see.” He winked at you, and you tried your best to ignore how handsome he was. “Back to work then, let’s get after it.”

+++

It was another late night at the office, you and Chris had been hunched over case files for hours after a whole day of running around and taking statements from various people associated with the case. You were incredibly tired, but the court date was approaching and there was still a lot of work to be done.

Across from you, Chris yawned, stretching his arms over his head. He had discarded his suit jacket, and his white dress shirt was tight enough for you to ogle his muscled arms.

You had given up on trying not to stare some time ago, he was good looking, and there was no hurt in admiring what was right in front of you.

Lately though, you had started to develop some more confusing feelings about the man. But those were carefully bottled up and you intended to keep them that way.

“Do you want another coffee?” you asked, getting up from your chair.

“Please, I’m dying here. Bring me the biggest cup we have.”

You made your way back from the kitchen, balancing two steaming mugs of coffee in your hand. You stopped next to Chris chair and put down his coffee in front of him. Your arm softly brushed against his, and he turned his head to face you. Suddenly, your faces were only inches apart from each other, he was so close that you could feel his breath on your skin as he spoke.

“You have a lash, right there. Stay still.” he reached out to pick the small hair up from right under your eye. The touch of his finger left a burning feeling on your skin.

“Thank you.” You whispered, and for a moment, no one was speaking, you were just staring into each other’s eyes. You felt your face starting to tingle, but you couldn’t look away, not when Chris eyes were open and warm in a way you had never seen them before.

You noticed a small scar on his jaw, and you carefully reached out to trace it with a finger.

“Where is this from?”

Chris tensed under your touch but didn’t move or slap your hand away.

“College, Senior year. I got into a nasty brawl with someone after that last party before graduation. I was wasted and angry, it was my fault, no biggie.” He murmured, and you quickly moved your hand away, worried that you were making him uncomfortable.

Your mind rushed back to that night, and the row you had with Chris. Even after all these years, the encounter was still very present and the thought that he had gotten into a fight because you had riled him up made you feel incredibly guilty.

“I’m so sorry.” You replied in a stained voice. “Were you angry because of me?”

Chris eyes hardened.

“That was years ago, Y/N, how about we let stuff from the past stay there.” he replied brusquely and got up from his chair. “I need to get some more files.”

When he didn’t return after an hour, you just went home.

+++

After that night, things between you went back to being tense and awkward. You weren’t sure if he was mad at you and were too afraid to bring it up. You had actually enjoyed the tentative friendship that had formed between you and missed the easy banter during lunch breaks or brooding over case files in comfortable silence. Why was the man so fucking stubborn when you had been nothing but civil to him since your first day?

After a week of little to no conversation, you were close to freaking out. It was another late-night work session, and you were tired and fed up with the situation.

“Alright, enough with that shit.” You snapped, slamming down the file you were working on onto the desk. Chris glanced up from his papers and shot you a dirty look.

“What’s your problem, huh?” he snarled back.

“You are my problem, Cuomo. I thought we were making progress and could at least be friendly with each other. But since last week, you’re totally shutting me out. You don’t talk to me, not even when its necessary for the case. I don’t know what I did to offend you, but you either tell me now or suck it up, because the silent treatment is bullshit.” you were getting louder with each sentence and had started pacing around the small office, the familiar flush creeping up your neck.

The sound of Chris’ laughing made you stop in your tracks.

“Oh my God, you look just like during one of those discussions back in college.” He chuckled before he got serious again.

“Look, I’m sorry. I was confronted with a lot of uncomfortable memories last week. Yes, back then I was angry because of the fight we had, and yes I got drunk and punched this guy because of it.” He paused for a moment, running his hand through his hair before speaking again. “He reported me to the police, you know. I had to do a whole summer of community service, and almost lost my Law School spot. I blamed you for a long time, even if it wasn’t your fault at all.”

You were shocked by that admission.

“Chris, I had no idea. I am so sorry, that was never my intention.”

He just stared back at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

“That right now was the first time you ever called me Chris.” He said, sounding oddly emotional. He got up from his chair and walked around the small table to where you stood.

Your heart started racing in your chest like crazy as he approached you.

“You just…Jesus, Y/N, you just unsettle me, you did back at Yale, and you still do.”

“What are you even talking about?” you whispered, “You used to hate me.”

“You really have no idea, don’t you?” he replied. He was standing right in front of you now, and the only thing you could focus on was how big and strong his body looked, and how good his cologne smelled. Your brain couldn’t handle having him in such close proximity, and when his hand reached out to cup your jaw, you could barely suppress a gasp.

“I never hated you.” He murmured, before pressing his lips to yours.

After a moment, your brain caught up with your body. You were just kissing Chris Cuomo, the plague of your college years, the most cocky, arrogant, intriguing person you had ever met, and it was fucking perfect.

You melted against him, his body was solid and warm and you never wanted to stop kissing him. Your hands flew around his neck, pulling him down to deepen the kiss. He tangled his hand into your hair, tilting your head back, and when he softly bit your bottom lip, you groaned against his mouth and pressed your body even closer to his.

With a deep breath, Chris broke the kiss and looked down at you, his pupils were blown and there was a slight blush on his cheeks.

“Do you know how often I wanted to shut you up like this?”

“Took you long enough, Cuomo.” You chuckled, and kissed him again, it felt too good to just stop now. His huge hands were on your back now, wandering lower until they landed on your ass, squeezing the soft flesh. By now, you could barely think straight anymore.

You had fantasized about this moment before, but no fantasy could compare to the feeling of his hands all over your body, dipping under your shirt to slide over the soft, bare skin of your back.

With your last shred of restraint, you broke the kiss again.

“We can’t do this here, Chris.” You mumbled, suddenly feeling a bit shy.

“There is no one else here, Y/N, its after midnight. We can do whatever the hell we want.” He replied, using the hand that was still on your back to pull you to his chest, there was a noticeable bulge pressing against you and your mind went blank again.

Your last resolve crumbled when Chris whispered a deep “I need to have you, now.” right against your ear. You succumbed to his touches as he picked you up and placed you on the edge of the desk, right on top of the important case files, but you didn’t give a damn.

Everything you cared about right now was the feeling of Chris palms sliding up your bare legs, hitching up your skirt and softly skimming over your panty-covered core. You inhaled through clenched teeth as his hand found its way inside your underwear, you were already slick with need and grinded your pussy against his fingers.

“You have no idea how often I thought about this.” Chris groaned. “Just you, squirming and wet under me. God, you are soaked.”

“Stop talking and do something, Cuomo.” You whimpered, his light touches were nowhere near enough.

“You asked for this, sweetheart.” Chris growled and plunged two of his thick fingers inside you without warning. The moan spilling out of you was so loud that he slapped his other palm over your mouth to muffle your needy sounds.

“Shh, we might be alone, but we don’t want to alarm the whole building.” He chuckled darkly as he started to move his hand, curling his digits inside you until you saw stars.

You groaned his name against his palm as he started to circle your clit with his thumb, applying more and more pressure until you came against his hand with a strangled cry.

Chris removed his hands and looked down at where you were lying on the desk, breathing heavily.

“Say it, Y/N. What do you want me to do?”

You could see the way his erection was tenting the fabric of his suit trousers and unconsciously licked your lips.

“Get rid of those trousers and fuck me.” You whispered, your voice still a bit breathy from your climax moments ago.

Without hesitation, Chris undid the buckle of his belt and pulled down his pants along with his underwear. When his cock spring free, you let out an audible gasp.

Chris snorted our a small, smug laugh, a flicker of his familiar arrogance showing. Usually, this would’ve annoyed you to no ends, but right now your only concern was getting him inside of you as fast as possible.

When he finally stepped between your legs, his strong hands grabbed the hem of your panties and just tore the thin lace apart. He grabbed your thighs and spread them, leaving you exposed to his hungry gaze. The feeling of his cock teasing your entrance almost made you lose patience.

“Stop the fucking teasing, Chris”

Without a warning, he grabbed your hips and slammed into you with one harsh thrust. You had to cover your mouth with your own hand again to silence your cry, the feeling of his thick length was almost too much.

“Shit, Y/N.” he hissed as he bottomed out. “You’re so tight.”

You couldn’t do anything more than grab the edges of the desk as he started to fuck you with a relentless pace, the slap of his skin against yours sounding through the empty office.

Your let your head roll to the side and closed your eyes, completely overwhelmed by the burning arousal spreading through your whole body.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed your hair and yanked your head around so you were staring directly into Chris dark, burning eyes.

“I want you to look at me while I fuck you.” He snarled. “Want you to see who makes you feel like this.” His voice was slightly breathless, and there was a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead as he continued to slam into you, hitting a spot deep inside you and sending you closer to your climax with each hard stroke.

His words were like a drug and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his face anymore. When he delivered his next sharp thrust, you could feel yourself tumbling over the edge, your orgasm washing over you and making you trash and squirm under Chris, your walls clenching around his cock.

His grasp on your hips tightened to an almost painful degree, pulling your pelvis flush against his as he spilled inside you with a growl.

As you laid on the desk, your brain was trying to come to terms with what just happened through the haze of your climax.

Chris carefully pulled out and readjusted his trousers before slumping back into an office chair.

“Well, that was a surprise.” You said awkwardly, getting up and pulling down your shirt to restore some sense of dignity. In an attempt to ease some of the tension that had suddenly settled over the room, you added “Next time we should try it without all the clothes, and maybe on a bed instead of a desk filled with super important case files.”

Instead of making a dirty joke, Chris looked surprised.

“There is going to be a next time?” He asked, sounding almost hopeful.

With a soft chuckle, you approached him and sat down onto his lap.

“You can’t screw me like this and not expect me to come back for seconds.” You pressed a kiss to his lips. “If you’re up to it, I’d maybe even agree to a third, fourth and fifth time.”

Chris puffed out his chest a little bit. “Sweetheart, I’m always up to it.”

+++

With a slam, the doors of the courtroom closed behind you. Chris turned around to face you, and the smile on his face was bright enough to light up the entire hallway.

“We won, Y/N, we really did it.” he cheered, picking you up to spin you around. You just giggled, full of joy and relief that you were able to win this important case and keep your clients out of jail.

When Chris sat you down again, you reached up to put his face between your hands.“I am so incredibly proud of you.” You said, your voice heavy with emotion. “You were on fire in there.”

It was true, seeing Chris in court had been like a revelation to you. He had been relentless, tough and razor sharp in his defense, all while wielding his charm and charisma to win the jury over. Everything you had held against him for all those years, his audacity, his stubbornness, they had been invaluable strengths during the trial.

But when Chris leaned down to press a kiss to your mouth, all thoughts stopped. It still was so fresh and every touch of him brought you out of balance. The fact that he had just kissed you in public made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. You hadn’t made your relationship public yet, or even talked about if you were an item, but this made you hope.

Chris broke the kiss, still beaming at you.

“I could have never done this without your help. This is our success. And now we have to celebrate. Please, let me take you to dinner.” Chris said, wrapping his arms around your hips to pull you against him. By now, you couldn’t care less about all the people looking at you.

“Took you long enough to properly ask me out.” you joked, “And of course, I’d love to.”

Immediately, Chris started rambling about how he knew the perfect restaurant that would blow your mind and how they were always booked out several weeks in advance, but he could get you a table anyway, and you just smiled to yourself.

He was still a cocky, smug idiot, but he was your idiot now.

#Chris Cuomo #chris cuomo imagine #chris cuomo fanfiction #chris cuomo fic #chris cuomo x reader #fanfiction #cnn #cnn anchors #request

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delightfulfiresoulweasel · 3 years

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DAYdreaming a Kevaaron AU

This is an Kevaaron Singer Aaron! AU I came up with from crazy brain storming and, well, ended up here so I hope it will be enjoyed as much as I enjoyed it in my head. Kevin and Aaron break up, Aaron scribbles down lyrics instead of class notes and his Med school friend notices, takes Aaron to a studio to compose the music and create songs, because its better than Aaron relapsing, and one night without telling Aaron, posts the songs on Soundcloud. And what if Exy finals had half time performances like Super Bowl finals does, and they asked Aaron to perform as Kevin'’ team were in the finals.

(I will be using songs and lyrics that does not belong to me; songs: MrLoverman, Burning, Falling, Till Forever Falls Apart, One Last Song)

Kevin and Aaron are dating, Aaron is in med school, Kevin is a successful exy player living in Chicago. One day, while Aaron is visiting Kevin, they fight over something very small, the argument starts getting heated, both of them bringing up the issues they have been repressing. The argument turns into a shouting match until Kevin tells Aaron that he doesn't have time for this. Aaron leaves Kevin'’ flat, books himself a flight ticket on his way to the airport and calls his friend, Jason, to come pick him up.

They don't talk for a month. Neither of them text or call each other. They don't tell any of the Foxes about the breakup either. But it becomes obvious when Aaron doesn't show up to Kevin'’ game that is in his city.

Aaron used to go to every single one of Kevin'’ games when it was in his city, fly over to the most important ones as support.

The reporters and sport commenters loved Aaron. He would sometimes join Kevin in his post game interviews, Kevin'’ arm wrapped around his shoulders. The fans also waited for the pre-game kiss that became a ritual for the couple. Kevin climbing the bleachers as Aaron draped himself over the railing to reach Kevin'’ mouth, for a good luck kiss. After the game, the photo would circulate all through twitter, fan accounts making a collage of the gathered photos.

So when Aaron did not show up to Kevin'’ game that was in his city, the Foxes knew. Aaron'’ phone was blowing up with messages even before the game started. He wasn't at the stadium but he was watching it on TV at home.

He had many texts from Nicky, asking to know if Kevin and him were broken up. Matt, Dan, Renee, Allison, Robin and Katelyn were all equally concerned.

Andrew called him, he picked it up. "What did he do?" "Nothing." Aaron had said. "Nothing?" Andrew had huffed. "Leave it, we broke up but I still love him, no one is to blame." Aaron had said before he hung up.

He was disconnected in classes, too busy scribbling down words swimming in his head than concentrating in his classes. Jason, his new found friend, which was a foreign concept to Aaron, had noticed. Taking one glance at Aaron'’ notebook, he had realised that these were potential song lyrics. He had an idea.

Aaron was not happy being dragged by his sleeve by Jason. They were stood in front of a beat-up studio.

"I have no idea why we are here" he had said. Jason had smiled.

Sitting on the piano, Jason snatched Aaron'’ notebook from his book. He knew a friend, who knew a friend that owned a studio. Jason had thought it would be good for Aaron if he sang his heart out. He knew Aaron was a good singer from the few times they went to Karaoke together.

They had spent the whole night at the studio, composing a melody to Aaron'’ first song.

I am MrLoverman, and I miss my lover man.

Jason could hear the hurt in Aaron'’ voice, voice cracking, the shaky breathing when he was too close to tears, the tremble in his hands and the distance in his eyes as he was lost in thought, thinking of better times.

The second song was harder than the first. It was filled with more emotions and truth. It was a pleading, a cry for a voice to be heard. Openly stating that he wanted his lover back. The sweet melody of Aaron'’ voice making the song both a weapon that created a wound in your heart and the balm that licked to wound closed.

Oh, have you ever called I will burst straight back Give you my forgiveness And the shirt off my back

Jason had asked one night between recording sessions, the studio was their new stop place now. After every class they would rush to the studio, some musicians that were there just to jam had heard Aaron'’ voice, they were captured by it. Aaron was the Nine Muses ( yes all nine of them) and the audience was mesmerised. He asked if he were to ever release an album that had these songs in it, what Aaron would name it.

After a pause, Aaron answered between laughing fits that he would name it DAYdreaming, get it, Kevin Day and he was dreaming of him 24/7. Jason laughed but thought it would be a great marketing name.

As Aaron wrote, the songs were getting more and more detailed and personal, they were all the words he couldn't speak before.

Forget what I said It's not what I meant And I can't take it back

He had not meant to say half of the things he had said to Kevin a month ago, looking back, he knew they were simple things that could have been solved if they had just spoke, if Aaron had just been brave enough to start the conversation.

But he had been too scared, scare that he would lose Kevin over something so simple, so he avoided the topics, and at the end, he still lost him.

Aaron had hated California, the place full of memories of his mother, a torturous life Andrew had endured, the missed years both of them could have had as brothers. But Kevin had changed that, the memories were still there but now, accompanied by happy ones Kevin had created for him.

If the tide takes California I’m so glad I got to hold ya

They had stood on the beach, wrapped in each others arms, looking at the horizon as the sun set, Kevin whispering future plans for the both of them into Aaron'’ ear. Aaron had smiled to all of them, some ridiculous, some too good to be true ideas, but he did not mind, because in all of them, Kevin and Aaron were stood together.

And if the sky falls from heaven above Oh I know I had the best time falling into love

All of these studio sessions, all of these songs, they were all for Kevin, for over a month, he had dedicated all his time to create the perfect songs that reflected his truest feelings about Kevin, his regrets, his cries for lost love. He loved Kevin, and it did not scare him anymore, his love for Kevin.

Maybe one day I won't sing about you

But he did, he always would, did not matter if Kevin resented him or welcomed him with open arms, he would sing about Kevin for the rest of his life like a broken vinyl.

I know you don't want to talk to me So this is what I will do Maybe you're listening So here's one last song for you

He knew he would never post these songs anywhere, or send them to Kevin, but he had hoped deep down in his chest that somehow these lyrics would be carried out to Kevin.

They eventually run out of lyrics and music to combine, Aaron knew he had to leave this behind him. His true love, buried away in his make shift song lyrics. He closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep with something missing inside him. Jason did not

That night, he uploaded their album, DAYdreaming by Aaron Minyard and the medics ( get it, med students) on SoundCloud. He had watched Aaron crumble under the loss of Kevin, voice booming into the microphone as if he was calling out to Kevin, hoping his voice reached his ears. Jason hoped someone, a fan, might discover it, and the album got carried out to Kevin.

What he did not expect was the insane success. Aaron had an angelic voice, now the whole world knew. They were listening to his heartbreak over and over again, tagging Kevin, asking what had happened, millions were relating to Aaron, crying to his hurt, his story, his voice.

Aaron however was fuming mad, he could have strangled Jason. The Foxes were blowing his phone up, agencies calling him to sing a contract with him, many gig and concert offers.

He accepted a few small radio'’ interview proposals, with Jason by his side, explaining that he had written those songs only for himself, and his nosy friend had went out of his way to leak them online.

But the rush did not die, in fact, it only got bigger as Exy finals game was approaching. Kevin'’ team was against Andrew and Neil'’ team. The match alone would have created a big deal, but now with the breakup and the album drama, all eyes were on how Aaron'’ twin would react to Kevin on court.

Aaron did not want to Foxes taking sides, he had said it to all of them personally, texted in the group chat where Kevin could see, mentioned it in interviews. They were a family, and Kevin'’ and his break up should not mess their hard found family.

The finals were a big event all on its own, but it got even fired up when Aaron was offered to perform in the half time show. Aaron was shocked, Jason was delighted. He said yes, and Aaron, feeling prideful from the support his songs were getting, said yes as well.

Andrew was not pleased, Neil was very much amused, and he could imagine that Kevin was fuming.

Aaron was shaking with nerves on the finals day. Nicky had flown from Germany as support to both Andrew and Aaron. All the Foxes were lined up in VIP seats, but no one was there for the big game and all of them knew it.

Aaron briefly made eye contact with Kevin right before the game. Kevin was flexing his broken hand, a nervous habit he had, meeting Aaron'’ eyes, he stopped. Aaron smiled at him, a warm, gentle smile. Kevin'’ hand relaxed, he smiled back.

The first half of the game passed as a blur for Aaron, he was having a hard time focusing on the players and the game as time got closer to half time whistle. Jason was stood right next to him, Nicky'’ hand a grounding presence on his shoulder. Eric was there too, he hugged Aaron tight before he got on stage, in front of millions.

Aaron did not do this, he was not a singer, he was supposed to focus on his classes and stay out of drama. Not perform for the whole world to see.

The songs were lined up from less painful to more painful ones, ending with One Last Song.

Under the blinding lights, Aaron could not see anyone else but the microphone in front of him. He sang, with all his heart, he sang. The crowd was wild, screaming his every word back to him. Aaron had never felt this kind of ecstasy, not with drugs, not on Exy court. This was all him.

The last song, was the hardest to sing, after singing all his heartbreaking songs one after other, laying all his hurt, truth, mistakes and regrets in front of millions, he was emotional for the last song.

Maybe one day I won't sing about you I'll sing a song about someone new But right here, right now You are on my mind And I think about you all the time I'm sending a message to you And I'm hoping that it will get through

Oh, the message was getting through all right, the person that needed to hear this was standing right on this court, Aaron'’ insides made a move, as if he was going to throw up. He closed his eyes. The part that hurt him most was approaching.

In case you hear this Then know you're the love of my life Want to tell you I'm sorry I miss having you by my side When you were mine

He was getting chocked up, the tears burning, no longer able to contain them behind his closed eyes, he opened them, momentarily blinded by the stage lights.

He did not see the person climbing up the platform, he did not hear anything over his own heart beating.

When it was good it was bitterswe...

He was cut short, strong hands holding his shoulders, turning him around, he was facing Kevin. His hair slicked back with sweet, cheeks glistened with tears.

Aaron knew his was also covered in sweat, tears running down his cheeks. Kevin cupped his face in his strong hands, Aaron leaned into the touch.

Kevin bent down, closing the distance between them and kissing Aaron, heavy and bruising, too possessive, too longingly. Aaron smiled into the kiss, messing it up, but he did not mind. He wrapped his arms around Kevin'’ neck and kissed back just as hard.

The crowd was screaming, Jason was whooping from where he was on the stage but none of it mattered, Aaron'’ world was Kevin and Kevin only.

#all for the game #aaron minyard #kevin day #kevaaron #all for the game imagines #aftg #aftg textpost #kevaaron supremacy #singer au #AU

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stardancerluv · 3 years

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Stormy Weather

Part One

Summary: Stormy weather came to Gotham. Roman and reader have their hands full.

Warning: Roman deals with issue..mention of knife use, blood

Note: Collage with peach suit? Photos and putting together with new phone...woo! Also if you were awesome and read the teaser, its been edited a bit...thank you...enjoy!

This takes plac after Steps Forward

You balanced your phone on shoulder. “Come on pick up. Comon’ Roman.” You absently, said. You were annoyed to your bones. Not at him but at how your day was already shaping up.

“Baby,” His raspy voice purred into your ear. “Are you alright?”

You smiled. “I am.” You said through practically gritted teeth. You walked away from the distributor, as he laid out the bolts. “The fabric distributor was late, he just showed up. I am only now looking them over.” You sighed and blew some hair that had fallen into your eyes. “And I still have to get back and work on Edward’s new piece.”

“Fuck, Edward and come home to me.”

Your heart leapt, you were still wrapping your head around that. The idea of coming home to Roman.

“I want to, but I should get some work on it. He just increased what he was willing to pay for it. so I should get some work done on it.”

“Ah, well yeah let’s not rankle him. Want me to have the chef bring some left overs up for later?”

“That would be nice.”

Shuffling sounds filled your ear. “Zsaz, tell the chef he needs to bring Y/N’s portion upstairs tonight.”

A huge smile spread across face as you heard a however muffled Roman, telling Zsasz to make sure your dinner would be taken care of.

“Now?” You heard him in the distant say.

“Yeah. He’ll keep.”

You realized then that Roman had possibly answered your call in the middle of. You pressed your lips together.

Despite what him possibly entirely good reason for what he was doing you felt bad.

“Baby, come to club when you’re done mmmokay?”

“I will try.” Honesty and your time was always the best way to approach it.

You heard a flicker of a sigh. “If not then I’ll see you in the penthouse.”

“Yes, perfect.”

“Till then.” You knew then, he was defintely in the middle of things when you had called.

“Till then.”

*****

So many colorful bolts of fabric were laid before you. You ran your fingertips over them. You smiled at all the different feelS and textures.

These bolts would give you the opportunity to expand on feelings and even seasons of pieces. You were pleased. You just wished he had been on time.

******

Roman, hung up with you and tucked his phone away. Straightening his gloves once again. Turning, the wind was knocked out of him as Tony Rosa rammed him and he body bounced on the cold concrete. Blinking, he was looking up at the rafters, seeing stars twinkling in front of his eyes.

He barely, gathered himself when Tony’s beefy hand connected, which he mostly dodged. At the last minute some of his cheek took some of it. Tony groaned as his fist hit the concrete beside him.

Without thinking he rolled and reaching for he grasped one of his knives which he easily flicked open and jammed it into Tony’s upper arm by his shoulder. The man howled and crumbled on pain.

Getting up, Roman kicked him in the side. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

The man grumbled.

“Someone hold this fuck up, I want him to see me when I talk to him.” Zsasz came back then and a few came over to help.

He took his knife out of Tony’s arm and blood poured from the wound. “Look you had fucked up. I was going to talk to you maybe land a few punches, then let you get back to work. But we had to talk. But look at you now!” He snarled.

The man whimpered a please.

Roman continued. “We would not have fucking killed you.” Roman rocked his head from side to side.

The man sputtered, Roman could see fear blossoming in his eyes.

“Now fuck you!” He snarled. He slammed down his knife into his shoulder. Looking at Zsasz, he smirled. “Make him fuckiny suffer and then disappear.”

He turned on a heal, winded and still feeling out sorts he was relieved to have weak link gone from the men who worked for him.

“I fucked up.” Tony croaked behind him.

He stopped and barely turned. “I don’t care.” He cleared the cold warehouse and as he began to scream.

“Take me home.” He said as he slid into the back of the rolls.

******

Before heading back to your studio, you seriously debated just going home. Something itched, some pulled at you to do so. That mostly like was just because now calling the penthouse home was wonderful.

A whole new dynamic and even level of intimacy grew between you. But you really should get some work done, if you focused, you could get a lot done and head over. That is exactly what you would do.

You ordered your tea, which you seriously needed, after how early you had awoken and it had been all for not since the distributor had arrived so late. Your saving grace that morning, was Roman had to be up early for his first meeting too.

As you looked up at the sky, the heat of the morning was lessening yet there was the feel of a storm brewing. Maybe the first thunderstorm of the season. The clouds certainly were churning between being gray and big puffy white ones. Hopefully, you’d be back at your studio before any of it decided to happen.

You would grab on of those yummy croissants to nibble on while enjoying the tea, you mused as you walked into the coffee shop.

“Mrs. Sionis? Mrs. Sionis?”

You stood off to the side waiting. When you heard, Mrs. Sionis your ears pricked up. You looked over at the barista confused.

“Tea and croissant?”

You went over. “But I’m not Mrs. Sionis,” you looked around. “We’re only dating.”

“Oh! Well umm, sorry here anyway.” Said, the otherwise very bored looking barista.

“Alright.” You smiled, shaking your head.

Once outside, you actually giggled on the way back to the penthouse. Mrs. Roman Sionis, Y/N Sionis, you imagined and giggled again then bit into your croissant.

“Doesn’t sound bad.” You said aloud but once again you giggled. It reminded you of the days when you were little imagining fairy tale weddings and your prince charming.

Before sliding in the door to your studio, you leaned happily against.

Your fairytale prince you mused, you thought back to how Roman looked this morning, despite the incredibly early hour and after such a late night. He looked sharp in that peach suit. So sharp, so handsome as the two of you talked over breakfast and his little teasing kiss before you had left. It still gave you butterflies.

******

He shed, the peach jacket as he remembered what you said. You had been right. It was dirty now, his lips wrinkled in disgust.

Grabbing a wash cloth, he examined his cheek over the sink. Turning on the faucet, he began to wash it. His cheek was swollen.

After several curses, it was clean and shouldn’t scar but he was angry. No one had better try and mess with him tonight.

******

“Where the fuck is she?” He snarled when Zsasz came back to the table with a few of the guys and you were not with them.

Something irked him. You were not answering your phone.

“She wasn’t there or at least not answering the doorbell.” Zsasz, scratched the back of his head. “Or the pounding on the door.”

Roman shook his head. “Something is up.” He pressed his lips together. “You stay here in case there are any new developments. And I need you to leave fast.”

Getting up, he unbuttoned his suit jacket. The club was closed for the night and the customers were gone.

“You tell her, no damn small talk. She doesn’t need to chat with you or steal some cake from the kitchen. Tell her to come right upstairs, when she finally comes home.”

“Sure thing boss.”

*****

When you awoke, your croissant was squished under your cheek, instinctively you threw it away. Startled you realized your tea had spilt. What the hell happened, your head pounded. You barely remembered coming over to your easel to finish your snack.

Your eyes finally focused on a note.

We know where you work, you bitch of Sionis. Others may love you. We don’t. Watch yourself.

You were barely halfway through reading it when you began to shake and cry. You looked around. Nothing else looked disturbed. Snatching away note, you stuffed it into your pocket. Getting up, you sat back down holding your head.

Blinking, you looked over at the clock near you, it was after four in the morning. They had drugged you good. Reaching into your pocket, you found your phone gone. You couldn’t call Roman. Swallowing and breathing deeply you got up. It was better this time, turning to leave you stepped on something. You looked down and saw it was your phone. Oh, this was horrible.

Getting in a cab, you told them where to take you. When you went to pay, you found the note again but luckily in your other pocket you still had your wallet. You paid, and looking around you went over to the side entrance.

You winced as the thunder clapped loudly above. Glancing skyward, you watched the lightning, streak across sky.

The club had been closed for an hour. As you made your way to the elevator, you saw Zsasz asleep in a chair. Was Roman worried. Making your way over, you soon stepped into the elevator. Soon, walking in you stopped first to gather yourself, you were feeling woozy again but also to pull off your boots. Every sound would echo in the other wise silent penthouse. Looking down the hall toward the bedroom you two shared was eerily cold and appeared even more silent then the rest of the penthouse.

He had not gone to bed. Of course he wouldn’t. You had failed to show up to the club and you had not certainly not just gone up here straight away and fall asleep. You were surprised, you didn’t find him pacing.

As you walked by the one column, ghosts of you and him being cute and flirty popped in your head. The day had started so differently. Now, you knew people hated you and you had been drugged. Fear continued uncoil in your stomach.

Lightning brightened the entire sitting area, long with the rest of Gotham. Moments later as the thunder rumbled in, you shivered as it felt like the storm was directly above the building.

A small smile tugged on your lips, when you spotted him sitting near the huge picture window. Relief filled you. The lightning that came again illuminated but then brought him back into the darkness of the night.

“There you are you.” You kept your tone light, airy and damn as even as you could manage.

The rumble of thunder, made you wince in once again. It sounded like some giant trying to break in and steal you away from your prince.

He looked away from the window and his eyes moved till they met yours. The lightning, stretched its slender fingers across the sky once more. It allowed you to see the sharp features of your Roman, though now you saw the smudge a bruise on one cheek, the sight of it made your stomach lurch.

“Oh Roman.” You cried, had they gone after him too.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

The tears came again, you didn’t care. “Roman please,” His name, your voice was a cry it was barely coherent. You did what your entire being needed, begged you to do. Despite some resistance at first, which then turned into his arms wrapping around you, making you feel safe since you woke up against your easel. You met his eyes. “Someone drugged me.” Your voice shook, and you nestled into the crook of his shoulder. You sighed as you did, breathing him in deeply.

You felt though as his entire body went rigid, you could feel as he looked at the crumbled note.

“Those fucking animals.” He barked, and after a few breaths. His voice still angry though it had managed to take a softer edge in a way only he could pull off. “My poor baby, daddy is here and will take of you.” You felt a brief kiss on your head before he settled back. You knew you’d have to move soon. He would want to get moving, to see if he could follow any leads, talk to his allies, that were actually loyal.

You also knew that he actually, enjoyed taking care of you and right now you needed that more then a solution at that moment.

@darling-i-read-it @spn-obsessed-dean @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewanfuckingmcgregor @zodiyack @angel98624 @frenchgirlinlondon @nebulastarr @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @itsknife2meetu @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @nomnomnomnamja @poe-kadot26 @babydoll97 @hazel-nuss @vcat55 @feelthemadnessinside @queenofgotham800 @brookisbi @peachthatdrinkslemonade @johallzy @foreverhockeytrash @frostypenguinoz @starwarsslytherin @proffesionalclown @chogisss @shantellorraine @xxinvisiblexx @blondekel77 @saphic-susperia @drarrylov3r @i-cant-hear-you16 @deadlymistress24 @yesqueenofthelight @lemairepstuff @generallj

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wakaoujisenhime · 3 years

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Our fireplace - Keigo x reader

A/N: This right here is a special present for @bluuenvy for the Secret Santa event fyeahbnha hosted! Hope you have a great holiday! I tried to implement as much of your interests/wishes, which you shared with me, as I could and hope that you’ll enjoy this fluffy story even a little bit! (*´◡`)

I also tried my hand at graphics and hope that it’s enough to count as a second present! Please enjoy! ❤️

Tags: Hawks/Keigo x reader ✅ SFW ✅ fluff ✅

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

You were woken up rather sudden and unwillingly as the sunlight which shone on the empty space next to you reached your closed eyes. In an attempt to escape the bothersome light you turn your back to your windows and look at the dimly lit room with squinted eyes. The slight fragrance of your boyfriend’s cologne was still lingering and it made you remember the way his arms would always wrap around your body and keep you warm during all those nights immediately made a smile appear on your sleepy face.

Despite still feeling tired you stretched your body and reached for your glasses on the nightstand next to your bed, while doing so you managed to catch a glimpse of the clock.

8:35 AM…

You sighed and leaned your back against the headboard. It usually didn’t surprise you to wake up alone, but today you at least hoped to be able to have your beloved next to yourself. Sadly him being a pro hero meant that things like this would occur daily and you had no choice but to accept it.

Another sigh escaped your mouth as you slowly got up and made your way to the kitchen, ready to prepare some breakfast and start your first free day since long ago, but much to your surprise a plate of your favorite breakfast meal was already standing at the center of the kitchen island and a small note was leaned against the edge of the plate. You take the small paper and look at the familiar handwriting.

Good morning sunshine, hope I didn’t wake you up this morning (though maybe I should have). I wish you a Merry Christmas and hope that you’ll make the most out of today’s first half, ‘cause I get to have you all to myself during the second half. Just make sure to be at home by 6 PM, trust me...you won’t regret it.

Love you, my dear

While you read that note, you failed to notice the wide grin that had spread across your face. The mere thought of your boyfriend having prepared something for the two of you additionally to his plan of coming home earlier than he had ever managed before made your heart race with anticipation. You started humming to yourself while you ate your warm breakfast.

Today is going to be a great day…

With that thought in mind, you finished up eating, put the dishes away, and made your way to the bathroom. Your plan for today was to mainly spoil yourself and do some shopping, since thanks to work you weren’t able to go on a good shopping spree for quite a while.

Surrounded by the warm and bubbly water of your bathtub you let your thoughts wander, thinking about whether you should invite some of your friends to accompany you, but you decided against it, remembering that today was a special holiday they’d probably like to spend alongside their families and significant others. Thanks to your thought process, the idea of spending Christmas alongside your beloved entered your mind once again and before you could suppress any upcoming scenario that popped into your head, you saw a small smiley face on the mirror shelf unit above your sink. Your eyes widened as you remembered the day Hawks had drawn this small emoticon. The two of you took a bath together on that day and when you started drying your hair in front of the mirrored shelf he made fun of your pouty face. He said that you should try and look more cheerful so that you prevent any wrinkles from forming on your beautiful and young face. Since the mirror was still partially fogged back then, the little face had stayed there, and it unexpectedly brightened up your mood.

“Alright, let’s do this!” you happily cried out and raised both of your fists into the air, determined to make this the best day of your life.

After pressing the play button on your phone’s favorite playlist and turning the volume to max, you began to dance while you dressed yourself up. As for today’s outfit, you picked one that you considered your favorite: black skinny jeans, a dark purple top, and a grey pullover with dark-colored patterns. Now that you were dressed up, you once again returned to the bath to do your hair, since having long hair meant a lot of struggles, but you never considered it that way...if anything you absolutely loved it and you’d gladly spend almost an hour playing with it or fixing it, and indeed it took you 40 minutes to fix it the way you wanted it to be. With a triumphant grin, you placed your hands on your hips and admired the subtle hairdo that perfectly complemented your facial features.

Perfect...now I’m all set.

Instead of pausing your loud music, you simply plugged your headphones in and continued dancing to the vibrant beats that roared through the small speakers as you progressively left the apartment.

——

After getting on your regional bus which would drive you right to the heart of the city where all of the shops would stand so close to each other that they resembled a tight-knitted pearl necklace, allowing not even the tiniest space for a side alley. You took a seat next to the window and looked out, relishing the familiar places of your vivid hometown. As soon as the vehicle passed a couple of your favorite stores you once again remembered some of your past dates with Keigo and thanks to the energetic J-Rock music that dominated your playlist, the scenes you recalled were mostly positive. Even though you were in a slight daze something caught you off guard. A pair of red wings flashed before your vision and you were so taken aback that it took you a short while to actually process what you had seemingly witnessed. You reluctantly turned your head back a bit, trying to make sure that your eyes weren’t deceiving you, but the bus had already passed the shop in question and the trademark of your boyfriend was nowhere to be seen.

Am I finally starting to see things?

Your stop finally arrived and the moment you got out of the bus, the festive mood of the city finally hit you in all its glory. Holiday lights, garlands, colorful posters announcing sales or wishing passersby and customers a merry Christmas. Everything was so full of life and bright that the immense urge to visit every single shop overcame you, a tingly feeling you know too well. The city center was brimming with life and not only tourists and locals were present, but also some folks from the outskirts had decided to drop by and enjoy what the usually stressful and oppressing collage of high buildings had organized for the festive days. Your excitement went through the roof as you walked a few steps, letting your eyes roam around, and that’s when you first took notice of the variety of street vendors that loudly advertised their products and food. Everything seemed so welcoming and warm and if it weren’t for your little “promise” with Keigo, you would’ve spent your entire day jumping from one store to the other, trying as much of the food out as your stomach could take. A silent giggle escaped your lips at the sheer imagination of yourself going through with that plan, but enough of that. You were here to spoil yourself and no one was going to stop you from it.

A few hours passed by and within those you had visited a handful of shops. You had paid a visit to your favorite clothing store, which you left with two full shopping bags, full of new different tops, jeans, jackets, and a few beanies you’d occasionally put on. Next, you visited one of the many music stores your city had constructed, looking for the newest release of your main Japanese rock band as well as for some merch to go along with it. Further down the street was a small and barely noticeable building, its size was minuscule in comparison to the ones which surrounded him and unlike them, it had no modern façade, it was a simple brick building with very few Christmas decorations. And this small store was something you considered your getaway on lonely days or just bad days in general...it was your favorite bookstore. You were always over the moon when they had the latest release of your favorite genre of books, namely mystery novels. The staff there was similar to the building’s exterior: old but proper, super friendly, and attentive to any type of customers. They adored you and you did so as well. That mutual fondness you had for each other lead to many conversations on different topics, you sometimes even sat down and drank something together, but the main thing they did for you was set the newest releases to the side and wait for you to pick them up.

When you opened the wooden door to the store the familiar chime of the small bell above the door frame rang out, notifying the two owners of your arrival.

“My dear, welcome! How have you been?”

Another wide smile adorned your lips as you took the old and skinny hands of the owner into your own, squeezing them lightly. The two of you exchanged greetings, chatted a bit, and then his facial features dropped a little. His voice sounded sad as he confessed to you that there were no new novels for you to pick up. His seriousness took you by surprise, but you just giggled and reassured him, that it was no problem whatsoever, you were here to give them something in the first place. Their surprised and touched expressions warmed your heart, and after exchanging dozens of hugs you exited the store and resumed your shopping spree…

“No way! Bakugou look who’s there!”

The sudden loud but cheerful voice caught you off guard and as you turned your head to its source you saw a familiar duo amid the countless other pedestrians.

“Kirishima! Bakugou! What a coincidence of meeting you guys here!”

“There’s nothing coincidental about this and you know it.”

Both you and the red-haired young man squinted your eyes and raised your eyebrows at the grumpy blond, who immediately got flustered and tried to hide it with countless insults that weren’t bad-mannered in the least. Ignoring his usual tactics Kirishima and you shifted your attention to each other and started chatting up a storm.

“Have you been out shopping for presents as well?” he asked with his typical lively voice. You smiled and answered that this was more or less the case. The three of you resumed the walk and talked about today’s plans.

You found out that the former 1A planned a get-together at a restaurant and Bakugou made sure to stress multiple times that he wasn’t here voluntarily and that Kirishima had forced him to go shopping for some small surprises for their former classmates.

“And what about you, don’t you have anything planned with that birdman of yours?” If you weren’t between these tall men right now, the blond would’ve gotten elbowed by his friend, who now had to resort to glares only.

“Bakugou, you can’t ask her something so personal!”

“Why not? Didn’t we tell her about our plans too?”

“She’ll share it with us if she feels comfortable, ok? It’s way more private than our get-together!”

“You little-”

Much to their surprise, your giggles were what interrupted their small bickering and after a while, the two of them couldn’t hold back and joined in. After calming down you just shook your head and told them about the small note he had left behind but after suppressing all those lonely thoughts for the entire day, your facade finally dropped and so did your expression. You couldn’t take it anymore, this entire time you had spent in the city, trying to spoil yourself, one couple after the other entered your sight and as if to spite you, all of them recreating some of the cutest couple moments you had experienced alongside Hawks. It was as if all the couples had come up with a plan to constantly rub salt into your wound and you really hated being that overdramatic, but you really couldn’t help it.

So what if I want to be with him on Christmas?

Is it bad that I want him by my side on a holiday one is supposed to celebrate with their loved one?

You suddenly felt a big hand pat you on your back and it startled you. Turns out that you had been saying all of these things out loud. Now both men were looking at you with a worried and sympathetic expression, it was no secret that you were embarrassed about your sudden outburst and just as you were about to apologize to them, Bakugou sighed unexpectedly audible, catching the two of you off guard.

“You know I’m probably never going to hear the end of this, but I can’t keep this up anymore...not when you’re like this,” he paused and looked at you “before I met up with Kirishima, I saw that bird further down the street, mumbling to himself that he had to quickly go back home and start preparing for something or else he wouldn’t make it. So chances that you meet him at home right now rather than later...are rather high.”

That’s all he had to say and the perhaps biggest grin you had ever mustered appeared on your face a couple of seconds after he had finished his little confession of sorts. You really wanted to stay with them for a little bit longer but the thought of meeting Keigo earlier than expected prevailed, so you hugged them goodbye, wished them and their classmates a pleasant night, and finally gave Bakugou a quick and rather unexpected kiss on his puffed-out cheek. Kirishima stopped him from releasing his quirk under the broad daylight while they were in between all these innocent people and earned himself a reward kiss on his cold red cheek as well.

The drive back passed by quicker in comparison to earlier and you were really thankful for that since you couldn’t wait to meet your beloved any longer.

“Keigo!”

Your loud voice mixed with the quick and sudden way you opened the front door startled the winged man so bad that he even let out a silent yelp. He was so surprised by your premature visit that he just stood there in the middle of the living room with two beautifully wrapped presents in his hands. You were quite surprised yourself at the way your home had changed in those few hours you were away, but that was secondary right now because something on your boyfriend caught your attention. He wore a fluffy white pullover which you secretly knitted for him over the course of a few months, it was supposed to be his present for today which you had put underneath the small Christmas tree the two of you decorated a few weeks back.

“Ok wait, I can explain!”

While he put away the two boxes in panic, you simply jogged up to him and jumped into his arms, almost knocking him down. Before he could say anything, you began kissing his lips passionately and after a few of your kisses, he decided to just drop his explanation for the time being and enjoy your affectionate behavior, which he of course returned with as much love as you had given him.

When the two of you finally separated, he took the initiative and began talking: “So before you start showering me with questions all I want to say is that I was planning on surprising you with a joint dinner, some presents, and your favorite dessert. Unfortunately, someone caught me in the middle of my plans so now…you’ll have to wait quite a bit for me to finish everything up, sorry about that sunshine I reall-”

“It’s ok Keigo I don’t mind! If anything...I’d love to help you out with it and even though that might ruin your planned surprise, I honestly don’t care for it too much. I just want to be with you today.”

Your bluntness had always been something he admired you for and it was no secret that he still had some problems with expressing his feelings without any restraint and that’s why he really appreciated it when you made the first steps. Back when the two of you had first met it was the exact opposite: he was the open and pretty forward person while you were a tad shyer, but after the two of you gradually grew closer to each other your roles reversed. Nonetheless, you both complement each other perfectly and every day was but another great adventure.

The two of you moved your conversation to the kitchen where you guys finished up the rest of the dinner and talked about your day. That’s also when you finally answered the question he was constantly bringing up, namely why you knew that he’d be back at home earlier than he promised.

After you guys put some of the meals in the oven and let the others cool down, your boyfriend took you by the hand and dragged you to the fireplace he had lit some moments ago, urging you that it was now your turn to open your presents.

Keigo sat down cross-legged in front of you and watched you open the boxes with big eyes. You picked the bigger one first and when you finally reached the present you couldn’t help but laugh. It was a beige cardigan which also seemed like it was self-knit, similar to the pullover you gave him. Both of you couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the similar thoughts you guys had for a present. Next up was the smaller rectangle box which was way harder in comparison and even though you tried your best to not damage the wonderfully chosen present paper, your curiosity got the best out of you and soon you were ripping one small piece after the other...and forth came a book.

“N-No way! Keigo is that what I think this is?”

“Well...if you’re thinking about the newest volume of your favorite suspense novel, then yes, this is indeed it!”

You happily cried out his name and once again threw your arms around his neck, but this time it was him who attacked you with millions of kisses. Keigo then took you into his arms and leaned his back against the couch. Both of you remained in that position for a short while, his calm breathing, and a little quickened heartbeat were having a quite calming effect on you. The warmth the fire next to you provided made you sleepy on top of that and just as you were about to close your eyes and doze off, your beloved’s voice brought you back to reality...

“You know sunshine...if there is something like a past life then I’d like to believe that we were destined to be together but didn’t manage to do it.”

It was surprising to hear him speak of past lives since this was normally a topic you were interested in and often thought about, Keigo on the other hand usually listened to your theories and imaginations and added his opinion occasionally, so hearing him initiate it this time was a little worrisome. But you knew better than to interrupt him, so all you did was squeeze his body tighter and remain silent yet attentive.

“I rarely imagine stuff like that, but on days like this I just can't help but wonder if I really deserve this much happiness...d-don’t misunderstand me though, I’m really really thankful for you, our relationship, everything! But everything is going so smooth that I just can't help but overthink it and maybe we weren’t in a relationship in our past lives, but ended up leading a good life despite that, so now...”

Silence followed and you heard how his pulse had remarkably quickened the longer he talked about it, knowing Keigo his thoughts had already begun drifting into the darkest of abysses, and you weren’t going to let that happen.

“...Now you’re thinking that something bad might be waiting for us in the future...as payback for our good life but bad relationship type of past life?” you asked as you looked up to the worried facial expression of your lover, whose only reaction was to nod. You sat up and looked him directly into his eyes while your hands squeezed both of his cheeks.

“That’s not how past lives work Keigo and you know it. I don’t want you to plunge yourself in darkness over a theory with no basis. Since when were you even that type of guy who believed that...what did you call it again...mambo jambo?”

He smiled and gave your palms a gentle kiss, but he remained silent, waiting for you to finish.

You continued trying to reassure him, telling him that no matter what you guys were going to face in the future you’d always have each other and even if that one random theory he came up with should happen one day, you promised him to never leave his side.

And this seemingly meaningless promise is what drove Hawks to come out of his comfort zone in the following months, he also started coming home earlier from work and patrols. All in all, he began spending more time with you and you had nothing against it, if anything you appreciated him thinking more about your joint life as well as himself.

One day when you once again got woken up by the sunlight you felt how someone caressed your cheek and then the mattress tilted as the weight which was next to you disappeared. It took you a few minutes to wake yourself up and look around for your lover, but then you noticed something on your hand. Your eyes widened and you immediately jumped out of your bed, looking for Keigo, who was smiling to himself as he took a seat in front of your fireplace and patiently waited for you...

#fyeahbnhasecretsanta #bnha x reader #mha x reader #takami keigo x you #hawks x you #bnha fluff #mha fluff #━𝙱𝙽𝙷𝙰 #━𝙼𝙷𝙰 #━𝚅𝙸𝚂𝙸𝚃𝙾𝚁'𝚂 𝙴𝙲𝙷𝙾 #bluuenvy

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winter-fox-queen · 3 years

Text

Final Bets

Summary: Alejandro enacts his daring plan to get You and your daughter free and clear. But will things end the way he thought they would, when he foist came when you called?

Warnings: Some violence, cursing, and the attendant and You are both female.

Final one. THANK YOU for reading this. And special thanks to @hnt-escape for being amazing, talented, and putting up with me. (Also for creating the collages.). Her awesome poem is here:

This time, he knew who was on the other side of the door when someone knocked on it. He opened it up, resolved, serious, a little nervousness building, coiling inside his stomach.

The front desk clerk. Looking equally resolved. He nods, tosses the key on the bed, and shuts the door.

“You remember what I told you?” He pulls over in an alley, dropping her off in a blind spot so there’s no record of them together. Casablanca rises like a debauched king over them, not too far a walk. He hands her an envelope. She nods, shoves it away. He takes her chin gently. “If it looks dangerous, if there’s even the tiniest bit of danger…run. Nothing’s worth your life.”

She nods again, smiles. “You can depend on me.”

“Take your cut before her daughter gets there, leave the bag, and split.”

“You don’t trust her?”

“I didn’t raise her.” He says, looking at the rearview mirror, watching now, always. “I could have been…not biologically, I was out of the picture, then. But if she needed help, I would have come. I always made sure she had a way to reach me.” He shrugged. “So, her kid doesn’t know me…why would she trust me? And that means I…we…can’t trust her.”

“But you trust me?”

He smiles at her, and nods. A bit like he’s surprised to admit it.

“Alright.” She gets out of the car and he reverses down the alley, finds a cruddy lot where the cameras are probably broken and parks. Pays the guy at the kiosk cash. Reviews what your daughter told him about security protocols. Hope you were right, that the whole staff had grown soft, because people were too afraid to try and steal from the Casablanca so the guards were really more show than tell.

Every step, he has two things going on in his mind. Mentally he’s estimating where the attendant is, sees her enter the casino just ahead of him, so he slows down, resets the timer in his head. The other thing, of course, is looking for you.

He told her daughter, on the phone earlier, not to let you know. So when you look at him, at first just a security guard in a trim suit looking for danger, then realization as to who he is warms your eyes and there’s a softness to your face for a moment before the mask slips back into place.

He’s wearing a white shirt and black pants, and the red jacket again. He know he smells of chlorine and bad decisions.

But still, he makes his way over. Watches a craps game but does not wager. Cashes the 5,000 chip out. Thinks. She left the gift shop by now. She must be at the elevator. Now she’s on the third floor. Now it’s the restroom. Let’s give it a moment, in case someone is in that stall…

He buys one 100.00 chip. The teller didn’t want to give him something so low, but he just stood there and smiled, with his biggest, sharpest smile, tacky sunglasses hiding his eyes, changing the shape of his face.

He plays the roulette, the ultimate wheel of fortune. Wins, which is annoying because he knows he doesn’t have time to cash it in, so he dumps in on the tray of a nearby waitress and finishes his approach.

“I’m sorry.” He says, when he gets close enough.

You frown. “For what?”

He sticks his hands in his pockets. Casablanca was one of the casinos that still armed their guards. The gun was casino property, logged in and out.

“Everything. I wish. I should have gone with you. I should never even have left you for any reason at all.”

You’re scanning the room, trying to stay composed, but he can see it, a flicker here and there of emotion.

In his head, the elevator dinged. She’d be leaving, making her way to the doors. The loot in a brand new bag.

“I could stand here all day and apologize. But it won’t matter.”

“Why not?” Did he hear a little desperation, a little longing? Or was he hoping to hear it?

“Because of this.” He grabbed her wrist, slung her roughly around, his right hand yanking her gun out of its holster. Left arm around her, pressing her to him, right hand shooting in what he hoped was a civilian safe direction before pressing it to her temple.

“I am so sorry sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear.

“What do you want?” you scream. ��Let me go!”

He doesn’t want the guards to think heist. He doesn’t want them to think money, or danger to the casino. He wants the other guards to think there is just one problem, and it is right here. He wants confusion.

“We’re going outside and you can tell the moon and the stars to stop talking to me!” He screams. “I am so fucking sick of them talking to me!”

He starts pulling you back, ranting and raving, into the men’s room. No cameras, and one of those that was positioned with two sets of doors.

“Run on through, and start screaming.” He says, shedding his skin, shoving the red jacket into a bin. “Your daughter will text you the meeting place.”

The guard ran in only a second later. They look at the messy haired man, hands up, thick rimmed glasses, blue tee shirt.

“He took her that way…through the other door.” His voice is completely different, thick Spanish accent, soft and timid and very afraid and completely non threatening.

The guard kept going. Alejandro adjusts his glasses, takes one more look at himself in the mirror, and leaves the restroom, flowing through the crowds. Worried over you. Hoping you were shedding your skin, too, coming out the other side safe.

There you were. Hair down. Suit coat off. You were wearing a white shell, arms bare. You winked at him, and then the crowd took you away, just as they started, finally, locking down the casino. He made it out, barely, and kept walking.

He pulled out of the parking lot, and she was there. The attendant. He stopped, smiling up at her, and she took something out of her bag. A smaller purse. Tiger stripped gold leather. She hands it to him. “To go with your shirt.” He opens it. 500,00 dollars, probably, give or take.

“Is this?”

“Your share. I don’t trust her either.”

He tucks it under the seat, behind his legs. “You know,” he says, contemplatively. “If we go left, we could go off, become private eyes. I think you could probably buy your way in to a very new practice.”

She leans on the door. “And right?”

He grins up at her. “How do you feel about moral ambiguity?

“I don’t know.” She’s smiling a little now.

“Or…I could drop you off at the bus station. Then you’d really be free.”

She came around to the passenger side and got in. He started driving away, not wanting to draw any more attention by stalling.

“No to the bus station,” she says after a bit. “Can I think about the other two?”

“Absolutely. You have time…I need to drive us somewhere first. Make sure of something.” He clears his throat. “If you don’t mind?”

She shakes her head. “Does it have to do with the note you asked me to give her daughter?’

“Yeah. Go ahead and sleep.” He says. “It’s a long drive.”

He’s sitting on the edge of the pool, tee shirt and shorts, clean shaven. He looks like no one he’s ever been before. His legs are in the water, and rose petals swirl around. The one place you’d be able to find easily. If you wanted to.

“How long should I wait?” He asks her. She’s lounging on a lounge chair, reading a book on basic private investigation. She hasn’t told him, right or left, yet. He doesn’t mind waiting. He can live a long time on half a million dollars.

“How long did you give her?”

“Twenty four hours.”

“Give her at least 48. Maybe even 72. She might have gotten caught up.”

He shakes his head. “She got clear. Her kid texted me.”

“Alright. If we don’t hear anything, we’ll check out the day after tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.” He captures some of the rose petals in his hand.

“Will you…will you be miserable, if she doesn’t come?”

He grins over his shoulder at her. “No. I won’t be miserable at all.”

She returns his smile, holds up the book. “Left, then.”

Thanks to @sharkbait77 and everyone who commented and showed support.

#instyle #Hope #Pedro Pascal #My Fic

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ayamari-no-goshi · 3 years

Text

Verboten 2 | (T)

ff.net | AO3

Fandom: Danny Phantom (DP)

Summary: AU. When Danny was five years old, he went missing for 2 weeks. In the years that follow, his family tried to make sense of what happened, only for the truth to be discovered years later.

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, language. Be prepared for some very weird things

Parings: Danny/Sam

Notes: originally uploaded to Ff.net. Cross-posted to AO3 and tumblr. This fic is very heavily inspired by folklore surrounding mysterious wilderness disappearances

Chapter 2

“I’m honestly surprised your parents allowed you on this trip, Danny,” his friend Sam mentioned as they and their other friend, Tucker, packed their bags onto the bus.

The now seventeen year old Danny shrugged as he focused on trying to make sure his bag wouldn’t be squished in the luggage compartment of the bus during the trip. He brought a foldable telescope with him in case he had a chance to stargaze, and he didn’t want it to get broken.

His school, Casper High, had some sort of deal with one of the local National Parks. The school was allowed to camp at the park at a reduced rate as long as the students helped the Forest Rangers with some minor tasks. Both parties considered it a win-win situation as the Park Service received some extra hands, and the school was able to pride itself on the survival and conservational experiences its students received. Technically, the trip was voluntary for seniors, but the teachers indirectly pressured the students to participate.

“To be honest, I’m more surprised they convinced Tucker to go,” Danny eventually replied after he was satisfied with the location of his bag.

“You’re telling me!” Tucker whined as he waited for his two friends while he fiddled with his PDA. “My mother actually threatened to stop making her meatloaf for me if I didn’t go! They said, “It would be good for me”. Can you believe that?”

“I think a little bit of hiking do you some good.” Sam poked him in the stomach for emphasis.

As Tucker shouted in protest, Danny and Sam exchanged a glance. Tucker did not like the outdoors, and he was very vocal about it. His world primary consisted of technology, and while it was amazing what he could do with his handheld and twenty minutes, his physical prowess was lacking.

“But seriously, Danny,” Tucker injected after he finally fended off Sam, “how did you convince your parents to let you come?”

Danny shrugged as he headed towards the door of the bus. Shouts from the teachers made it clear they would be boarding soon. “It seems like the school board managed to somehow convince them. All I know is that they had a meeting with them to raise concerns and to tell them I wasn’t going to go, but they came back stating it was fine. It must have been one heck of a persuasive argument.”

“That’s because my mother was involved.” The boys glanced over to see Sam angrily kick a rock out of the way. Her parents were often a taboo topic. “I thought I told you she was on the school board. I don’t know the full details of it, but I know she was preparing counterarguments to objections.”

“I’m honestly surprised your parents are so gung ho about this trip. You’d think they’d consider camping beneath them.”

“It’s because of the prestige. They can brag that their daughter and their daughter’s school has ties to a government agency.”

While Danny raised an eyebrow, he admitted it seemed petty enough of a reason. Sam’s parents were very wealthy and liked to show off their wealth, much to their daughter’s dismay. They often argued with her regarding her appearance, music tastes, friends, after school activities, and other issues as they believed their daughter’s choices reflected poorly on them. However, they were usually fine with their daughter’s activism regarding conservation and animal rights as long as she didn’t go too far with it, such as the time she tried to stage a break out at the local zoo.

Their conversation ended as the boarding began. The three somehow managed to get the back of the bus, which allowed them to continue to talk without interruption. Most of the other students tended to avoid their group. They didn’t know why until one of the band members, Mikey, once asked Tucker how he put up with being so close to Danny. Confused, Tucker asked him to elaborate.

According to Mikey, a lot of the other students felt unnerved by Danny. As polite and quiet as he tended to be, there was something odd about him that no one was directly able to pinpoint. Mikey said he thought it could have been his eyes, citing how at times it almost seemed like Danny saw the world in a slightly different way than the rest of them. Tucker just laughed it off and explained that Danny had a traumatic event as a child so he often seemed unusually reserved. Mikey seemed to accept that answer, and afterwards, at least some of the students involved with the band were more open towards Danny.

The Fentons moved to Amity Park two years after Danny’s disappearance, so the majority of the student body was unaware of the event. If he was honest, Danny would never have told Sam and Tucker what happened, but his parents’ eccentricities forced the issue.

When his parent’s found out about Sam’s activism the first time she and Tucker visited their house, they made her swear she would not take their son into the woods with her. When he was finally allowed to take them to his room after Sam promised she wouldn’t, he hesitantly explained why they were so intense. His friends were very understanding, though they were just as puzzled about the entire thing as he was. Tucker even offered to hack into the old case file if Danny ever decided to look into it.

Sam did mention that it did help explain why they sometimes caught him staring off into space. She figured he was probably traumatized by something he couldn’t quite remember. Danny mentioned his sister once told him something similar, but he honestly didn’t remember anything that happened.

What he never admitted to his friends was that he knew why he sometimes seemed distant. Ever since his disappearance, he sometimes saw figures out of the corner of his periphery. Usually, he thought it was another person, but when he tried to check, whatever it was had disappeared. More recently, however, the figures seemed to let him glimpse them for a second or two. He could never make out anything other than the vague shape as a person. Since no one else seemed to notice them, he figured it was some weird sort of paranoia due to a repressed memory.

….

About a half hour after they left, Danny received a voicemail from his parents. He had forgotten he had put it on silent, but there was no way he could call them back while he was on the bus since Mr. Lancer was the chaperone for his bus, and that man was a stickler for the rules. Instead, he made a mental note to call them back as soon as he had permission as he clicked the play button.

His mother’s voice sounded absolutely frantic. “Daniel, you call me as soon as you get this! I don’t know what came over us, but we never should have let you go without some sort of protection. I should have never have let you go. If the teachers won’t let you call us, jest remember to never be the last or first in line, and never, under any circumstances, go anywhere alone. And, this is important Danny, if anyone you don’t know offers you food, don’t take it.” His dad could faintly be heard in the background talking about some sort of weaponry he made.

“And here I thought only my mom could sound like that. What was that about?” Sam asked. Her raised eyebrow told him she wasn’t going to let it drop until he had an answer.

“I think my parents finally realized I was going into the woods,” he replied as he put his phone away.

“I thought you said they were fine with you going,” Tucker chimed in while he rummaged through his back for a snack.

Danny didn’t immediately answer. He glanced away for a moment before finally he decided to open up about something which had been bugging him. “I know this is going to sound crazy, but my parents almost seemed like they were in a daze after that school meeting. They were so adamant I was not going to be allowed to go on that trip, and then they just changed their minds and stopped voicing their concerns. It was so weird that I actually called Jazz.”

It was true. He had called his sister at collage because of how out of character it was. While Jazz understood his concern, she reassured him one of the teachers or other parents managed to ease their concerns, and/or they realized some of their worries were silly and unfounded. He tried to tell her there was something more to it as she couldn’t physically see how off they were, but she just told him he was being paranoid and to enjoy himself.

Tucker whistled. “It must have been weird for you to do that.” Both Sam and Tucker knew full well how Jasmine “Jazz” Fenton tended to overanalyze almost everything. As a result, Danny often tried to avoid asking her questions regarding why a person would act in a certain way. The resulting explanation was often too lengthy to be interesting.

“As weird as that is, do you really think anyone in Amity would do something like drug or hypnotize your parents?” Sam argued.

“I… I don’t really know. Look, I never told you guys this,” Danny sighed as he steeled himself, “but, there has been a second incident prior to us moving. Our old house had a wooded area behind it. It wasn’t dense or anything, and you could see in it for like a half mile… but, according to my parents, and Jazz confirmed it, I went missing again for several hours in those woods. I don’t remember saying this, but they said I mentioned something about my playmate from the forest in Arkansas payed me a visit. There’s been an unspoken worry that this guy is following us for some reason.”

Neither of his friends said anything for a while until Sam spoke up. “That’s really messed up, but do you really think that’s the case? How would this person be able to find you? Do you even know what he or she looks like?”

He shook his head. “You know my parents are big names in fringe science. It’s possible he found us that way. I know that it’s really unlikely… It… It’s just… it was too weird, you know? With how my parents go on and on about other dimensions and being spirited away, them just suddenly changing their minds went against everything they believe.”

“Don’t worry, Danny. You’re with us and a bunch of other students. We’ll keep an eye on you.”

“And if something does happen, Sam can chase off the bad guy with those boots of hers. Ow!” Tucker glared at Sam as he rubbed his shin. “That was a compliment.”

She just snickered which caused the two to start bickering. The familiarity of it helped ease some of Danny’s worries. He knew he was just being paranoid, and that it was very unlikely anyone did something to his parents. It was just that he couldn’t shake off his uneasy feeling.

….

Their camp ground was in the Cuyahoga Valley region which was on the outskirts of the Allegheny plateau. The hills in the area were rolling due to the plateau and ancient glacial activity, but they were nowhere near as large as the ones found closer to the mountains in the next state over. Like many forests in the plateau, it was surprisingly old and dense.

Danny was unsettled by it. The hardwood trees blocked out a large percentage of the sun which cast permanent shadows on the area. Not only was it unlikely he would be able to stargaze, he kept thinking he saw something peek out from behind the trees. Chalking it up to paranoia, he decided to focus on the interior of the bus until they reached their destination. He didn’t need to freak out this early in the trip.

Due to the amount of students, the school split them into groups of about thirty and split them around the park. His group was sent to a series of cabins near one of the ranger stations. There were five or six assigned to each cabin. Thankfully for Danny, Tucker was also assigned to the same cabin.

After Mr. Lancer told them some general rules, they were told they had an hour to settle in before they would met up for lunch. The unpacking was fairly uneventful, though Danny was dismayed to learn some of the football players would be in his cabin. Most of them tended to leave him alone, but the one, Dash, liked to bully him. It was strange since he was the only person aside from Sam and Tucker who would come anywhere near him. Thankfully, other than a warning to keep his weirdness to himself, the football players decided to ignore him and Tucker.

He unpacked fairly quickly, so he decided he had enough time to try to contact his parents. Stepping outside, he tried to make a phone call. Someone picked up on the other end, but the signal must have been poor as the call was extremely choppy. After several minutes of trying to figure out what she was saying, he told her he would ask the Rangers if they had a land line he’d be able to use before he ended the call. He frowned as he checked the bars on his phone. There signal was strong enough that the call shouldn’t have been that choppy, but it was a cheaper phone since he had a bad habit of breaking them, so that could have been the reason.

They ate lunch at a mess hall in the camp complex. It was a fairly modest meal, but the beef and gravy was surprisingly good. Danny mused it was probably because his parents often experimented with cooking which often created strange results. He was also surprised that there was a vegetarian option available for Sam, but the school must have called ahead to let them know.

When they were finishing up, Mr. Lancer announced that one of the Rangers had an announcement. Danny glanced over to see a stern man, possibly in his late thirties, move towards the front of the room. He was fit and weathered, but every once in a while, there was a haunted look in his eyes.

The ranger, Rusty, gave the group a rundown of the general rules. He then paused for a moment before he spoke again. “This is unprecedented, but we are going to need your help for a search for a missing person.” Murmurs of excitement ran through the students. “This is a serious matter, and I request you pay attention. We have our search and rescue people and volunteers out right now looking for a twenty-two year old male. He is Caucasian and was last seen in a red jacket and blue jeans. He goes by Aiden.”

“Because you are not properly trained,” Rusty continued, “I only ask that you walk along the nearby trails for a couple hours in groups of two or more. Each group will be given a walkie-talkie. If you see or hear anything strange, call it into us. Don’t go off the trails. We don’t need more people getting lost today.” He fell silent and seemed to argue with himself for a moment before adding, “If you hear what sounds like screaming, particularly a woman screaming, call it in immediately. Large cats sometimes make that kind of sounds, and we definitely have Bobcats around. Luckily, they tend to avoid people, but we do like to know when we have signs of them.”

Twenty minutes later, the teens separated into their groups. Each group was provided a map, compass, and walkie-talkie. Rusty took them to a large map posted outside the Ranger station and explained a little about the area. The trails he wanted them to take circled the surrounding area and were well marked. Before he let them go, he again warned them to report anything off, but did try to reassure them by letting them know other rangers would be regularly sweeping the area.

“Well, isn’t this a reassuring start to our trip,” Tucker sarcastically mentioned as he tried to figure out the map.

“It can’t be helped,” Sam told him as she ripped the map out of his hands and corrected it before handing it back to him. “They must be desperate if they’re asking students to help.”

“Hey, I’m not used to replying on handheld maps.”

“You could try bringing it up on GPS,” Danny mentioned as they headed towards the one trail.

“That’s a great idea!” Tucker fiddled with his PDA for a moment before turning back to his friend. “Are you okay, dude? You sound a little off.”

“Oh, I guess this would hit a little too close to home,” Sam mentioned as she examined his expression.

Danny sighed as he glanced away from her. “Kind of. Even though I don’t remember it, I was in this exact same situation before. I hope they find the guy, at least for his family’s sake.”

The trio fell silent as they began their walk on one of the easy trails. They didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, though Tucker complained starting about halfway through the hike. Sam tried to distract them by identifying some of the local flora, but it only worked for so long.

By the time they made it back to camp, it was almost dinner time. Danny was glad to be back around the group. Although he never mentioned anything to his friends, he felt as if he was being watched the entire time. The trees seemed oppressive at times, and he was honestly surprised he didn’t have a panic attack while they were on the trail.

After dinner, he asked Rusty if there was a phone he would be able to use. Rusty told him that he would have to wait until the morning because they needed the line for the search. Danny understood and thanked the man.

Before he had a chance to head back to his cabin, Rusty called out to him, “While you’re here, make sure you never go off on your own.”

“I know. I mean, my parents drilled that into me for years,” Danny admitted with a shrug.

Rusty examined him closely before stepping closer and whispering, “You’ve witnessed something strange in the past. I can tell by the look in your eyes and how tense you are. In any heavily wooded area, the more open you are to the unusual, the more likely it might show up again.” He walked off without another word. Unnerved, Danny returned to his cabin and waited for his friend.

Tucker still wanted to complain about the amount of walking they did when he returned to the room, which prompted a discussion regarding how in the world Sam was able to enjoy things like that. Danny was about to bring up what the ranger told him when the football players burst into the room. Normally, Danny would just ignore them, but this time, he was intrigued by their excited whispers.

“Hey dweebs,” Dash addressed them, much to Danny and Tucker’s surprise, “did you hear what happened?” An evil grin appeared on his face when they told him they didn’t. “Kwan overheard the rangers talking earlier. You know that guy they were looking for?”

“Yeah,” Danny answered, “Did they find him?”

“Yeah, but he wasn’t alive.”

“Wait, what?”

“You heard me. They’re saying he’s dead.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- End of chapter notes :

The Cuyahoga (Ky-ah-HOE-ga) Valley is a real place. I chose it for some very specific reasons. 1) The forests in that area are extremely large 2) I’m fairly familiar with the landscape and weather as I grew up in another part of the Allegheny plateau 3) The parks in that area are a bit unusual as you have a mix of privately owned and government owned areas which I’m using to my design as there’s more leeway with what they can and can’t build in those areas 4) some old towns have been “swallowed” by the national park including one famous “helltown”

The Allegheny (Al-ah-gain-ie) plateau is one part of the Appalachian Mountains, which are said to be the oldest mountains in the world. You don’t really have the high peaks or rock terrain associated with other ranges since they’re so worn, but there are a lot of hills, valleys, creeks, and streams. There are also a lot of coal mines since it’s a coal rich area. What’s also very strange about the plateau is that you can be in a town or suburbs, but within 15-20 minutes, you can be on the outskirts of a deep forest. There are also some swamps and marshy areas within the plateau as well.

Also, a lot of the names for natural landmarks in the Allegheny plateau originate from the tribes who originally settled there. There are even some burial mounds in the Cuyahoga area.

#so i heard you like folklore #danny phantom #danny fenton #danny phantom au #dp #dp au #my writing #fanfic #fanfiction #fantasy #supernatural #sam manson #tucker foley #maddie fenton #jack fenton #vlad plasmius #folklore #sooooooooo much folklore #Verboten

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willddheartt · 4 years

Text

Falling | JJ Maybank

Summary: JJ finds himself falling for a Kook who’s always been a Pogue at heart.

Inspired by: Falling - Harry Styles

Warnings: a little angst? I don’t know.

Word Count: 3K

A/N: I write this differently from my normal style, I originally wanted to make it from JJ’s perspective but I felt I don’t know his character enough to write his thoughts.

Masterlist

I’m in my bed and you’re not here and there's no one to blame but the drink and my wandering hands

They met at the wreck as she was picking up take out and he was visiting Kie at work. She sat on the stool next to him at the counter, and he eyed her up noting her obvious Kook clothes, and then immediately wondering what the hell a girl like that was doing on The Cut. He was about to look away from her when she turned, catching him admiring her.

“Hey, I’ve seen you around,” She said, pointing at the blonde with a smile. “Y-you have?” He stuttered, mentally cursing himself for it. She nodded, pushing her blonde hair over her shoulder only for the short length to have it falling back in her face, the quick look of annoyance that flash across her face made him lightly chuckle, “You’re the guy with the good weed at the parties,”

He could have sworn he felt his heart hiccup, a girl who looked that nice, so far, wasn’t a stuck up Kook and he one he’s shared his stash with. “I don’t share with just anyone, so you must be pretty special,” He flirted, smirking at her. “I don’t have this pretty face for nothing, baby,” She played along, laughing at her own words.

After paying for her meal and thanking Kiara’s father, she grabbed a fry out of the take out container, quickly asking if he wanted a few as she looked up at the blonde boy and popped a french fry in her mouth before smiling, “What's your name?” “JJ,” He smiled “JJ,” She hummed, He thought he might combust on spot after hearing how sweetly his name fell from her lips, “Say JJ, you wouldn't happen to know where I can get some decent green around here, would you?” That boy would have given anything just to hear her say his name one more time, and if that price was one of his prized joints, he happily obliged. She led him back to her car where they both got in and he slipped one of his joints into her hand as she handed him some cash. The transaction was quick and brief, just as he was walking away she rolled down her tinted window beckoning him closer with a draw of her index finger. “Pleasure doing business with you, JJ,” She smiled, leaning out her car window to plant a quick kiss on his cheek, leaving a mark of red lipstick. She left the boy confused as she rolled up her window quickly. In the reflection of her black car he was able to catch a glimpse of the red stain on his cheek from her lips, a sight that kept his stomach doing flips.

One thing was very certain, as their encounters increased. He was wrapped around her, perfectly manicured, finger. He laid in his bed, alone, after a party. Something that was rare for the womanizer that was JJ Maybank. Since meeting her every other girl seemed only mediocre at best. He only truly wanted one girl on this island, but social ties almost all but forbid it. He still saw her at parties though, they’d exchange glances the entire night, or exchange speedy hello’s as they refilled their drinks, always having to make up an excuse to their friend who always asked questions. It felt like the world was against them ever being more than a conversation, but it wasn’t all the social ties fault. Once receiving glares and glances from other Kooks after speaking to her he’d end up with some clueless Touron in his arms for the night, as the number of his drinks increased to numb the very persistent thought that no matter who he had, they would never be her.

Forget what I said It's not what I meant And I can't take it back I can't unpack the baggage you left

Just as the sound of her sweet, soft voice began slipping from his memory, there she would be again. He was making his way back to John B’s for the night when he saw her sitting on one of the swings in the park, there she was on The Cut once again. All thought of where he was previously going thrown into the wind as he made his way across the grass.

“This seat taken?” He asked, pointing to the empty swing next to her. “It's yours if you want it,” The blonde girl smiled up at himThey sat on the swing set in silence for a moment, the only sounds around them had been the evening crickets and the high pitched humming of mosquitoes flying past their ears.

“It’s not safe for a girl like you over here when it gets dark,” JJ finally spoke up with the only words he could think of. She scoffed, “Not much better at the eight,” “Thought you had 24/7 security,” He retorted automatically “Ah yes, but only the rich boys get away with things, darling,” her voice had been tight and tense as opposed to the last time they spoke when she seemed so care free. “Sound stressed,” She nodded, “Sounds stupid but yeah, I am,” All this boy's life he spent unable to wrap his head around how Kooks could have any problems, and yet he was now wondering how he could help her.

“Do you want to elaborate?” He asked slowly She shrugged, “You’d probably think its a stupid rich girl problem,” “I’ll try not to laugh,” He added “Okay but you asked,” She said looking at him. JJ nodded for her to go on and she sighed, “It's probably nothing but I just had this fight with my dad because he thinks I should go to some pretentious collage, but that's not what I wanna do,” “Well what do you wanna do?” He asked, twisting the swing he sat in sideways so he was facing her. “I don’t know. I just don't want to go to school for another four to eight years only to be stuck with some boring nine to five job that makes me want to gouge my eyes out by the time I’m 30 and have me worked out once I'm 40.” “That's something,” JJ shrugged, “Figure it out around that,” She nodded, “You know, that's not a bad idea. Thanks,” She got up from the swing and started walking away, “Wait,” JJ called, making her turn around, “I never caught your name,” He said “I didn’t throw it,” She replied without missing a beat.

When she saw the confused look flash over his face she burst out laughing, “Lillian,” She said with a smile, “But you can call me anytime,” She laughed. “I mean, I’d love to,” JJ smirked “Really? I just always wanted to use that line, I never thought it would work,” She looked at him surprised. He handed her his phone and she put her number in it, sending him a small wave accompanied by a smile as she walked off in the direction of the Figure-8.

What am I now? What am I now? What if I'm someone I don't want around? I'm fallin' again I'm fallin' again I'm fallin'

As he got to know her, she became one of the few kooks he could stand without having a completely uncalled for comment to throw at her from time to time. Just because she lives on the eight, in no way meant she wanted to live the Kook lifestyle. She spent most of her afternoons, and sometimes her evenings visiting her grandmother on the cut, which incidentally had her running into JJ a lot more than she would have ever thought.

“I’m starting to think you might be stalking me, Maybank,” She smirked when she turned around, seeing him walking up behind her “Is that a bad thing?” He asked “Depends,” He chuckled at her. “I gotta get home, but I’ll call you tonight?” She asked, JJ nodded watching her get in her car.

As the days went on he found himself falling asleep on the phone with the kook more than he’d like to admit. Some nights he wouldn’t hang up even after he heard her small snores coming through the line, he matched their breathing and drifted off with the phone to his ear. So much happened so fast in such a short span of time the blonde boy wasn’t sure what was coming over him, he couldn’t remember the last time he face timed a girl, or even fell asleep on the phone with some. Yet he couldn't seem to get enough of her.

“You haven't looked up from your phone the entire night, whats up, JJ?” Kiara asked JJ as they sat around the fire in John B’s backyard. “He’s texting someone named Lilly,” John B spoke up as JJ was still typing, “Her name's Lillian,” JJ looked up, not liking his friend using the name he gave the girl. “My bad, only he can call her that,” John B continued to tease his friend. “Like Lillian Bowers?” Kiara asked JJ shrugged, “Never got her last name,” “Blonde-white hair, kind of short, green eyes?” Kiara described the girl that had recently been occupying his thoughts, JJ nodded. Kiara smiled, “She was at my last save the turtles thing. One of the few Kooks who’s level headed,” “And why has it taken me all this time, by myself to hear of her?” JJ asked, pretending to be hurt “You never asked,” The girl simply shrugged “Oooh, JJ’s got a crush,” John B teased, as he and Pope made kissing noises at their friend. “Fuck off, I do not,” JJ defended

What if I'm down? What if I'm out? What if I'm someone you won't talk about? I'm fallin' again I'm fallin' again I'm fallin'

With each passing day and every new conversation the blonde boy found himself not being able to stop thinking of the girl more and more. Night time had been proven to be the worst time for his thoughts to run wild. Wondering if she thought the same of him, or if she was just simply leading him on like every other kook had done. But most of all he wondered if she spoke about him to her friends and if so, how highly did she speak about him? Did she shrug every comment about him off, wanting to keep their friendship hidden from other Kooks, did she nod along with them but not say anything to defend if they called him something along the lines of a ‘dirty Pogue’ or did she actively speak about him? All these thoughts crowded his mind but they were never ones he'd speak aloud to get the answers, leaving himself in an endless cycle of wondering.

You said you cared And you missed me, too And I'm well aware I write too many songs about you

After finding the blonde, Pogue, boy bruised and sitting at the park she visited so often, she brought him back to her house on the Figure-8. Sneaking him in past her parents, he knew they’d freak out knowing their daughter was even in the same vicinity as him. Even through his protests, she cleaned him up, wiping the dried blood off his eyebrow and lip, cleaning the gash above his eyebrow, and the spots his knuckles were beaten raw. “You must have gotten into quite the brawl,” She said softly. “Yeah, its my dad,” JJ shrugged, she looked up from where she was wrapping a bandage around his hand to meet his eyes, not believing the words that he just said, “It's no big deal,” He shrugged once more, biting the inside of his lip to keep the tears that were threatening to spill from his eyes at bay. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-,” She mumbled quickly, wrapping the rest of the bandage around his hand. “I know,” He said, holding her shaking hand and nodding at her. She took a breath before placing a spider-man band aid over the knuckle on his other hand that had broken the skin. He looked at the band-aid and chuckled, going to pick it off but she pulled his hand away. “You don’t have to look tough,” She commented “I don’t need it though,” “I know, but they always make me feel better so I thought it might help,” her words brought a smile to his face. “Thank you,” She nodded, “You don’t have to, thank me. I wanted to,”

That night she refused to drive him home, saying it was alright for him to spend the night, it was mostly for her piece of mind, knowing he would be safe for the rest of the night. As she looked at the sleeping boy on her bed she wondered how anyone could lay a finger on him, especially when he looked like a literal angel with his messy blonde locks falling over his forehead. She pushed her chair into her desk and shut off the lamp that overlooked all the artworks she created on the desk. Tonight's project, instead of finishing the watercolour painting she’d been working on for the fast few nights, a quick sketch of the boy sleeping in her bed. She grabbed one of the throw blankets she kept at the foot of her bed and curled up on the armchair in the corner of her room.

And the coffee's out At the Beachwood Café And it kills me 'cause I know we've run out of things we can say

In the morning he was slightly disappointed not waking up next to the beautiful girl. Thinking she had already gotten up he looked around her room, seeing her still fast asleep in the chair. JJ shook his head as he carefully picked her up from the chair and carried her to her bed. Once he picked her up, she instinctively curled into his chest, making his heart swell. Before leaving he looked around for a pen and paper, quickly scribbling down a note and placing it over the phone on her bedside table for when she woke up. The next few days their communication was very minuscule. She wasn’t sure if him leaving before she woke up was a bad sign but she didn’t want to find out, waiting for him to message her first. With her small communication, JJ didn’t want to push too much, thinking she might not want to talk to him since finding out about what his dad does. They were both filling their heads with doubts that were entirely not true.

What am I now? What am I now? What if I'm someone I don't want around? I'm fallin' again I'm fallin' again I'm fallin'

It was Kiaras idea to throw a kegger at the boneyard this weekend, sending out a mass text to get the word out there as soon as possible. Coincidentally, She was one of the many to get the text, from both Kiara and JJ. He saw her standing at the keg, refilling her cup. She looked up, almost as if she could feel his eyes on her, immediately locking his gaze with a smile that felt like his heart hiccuped. They met halfway, smiling at one another.

“So do you just leave without saying goodbye?” She joked, halfheartedly “Not usually,” He shook his head, “I just didn’t want to wake you. I left a note,” “I saw that, the ‘you looked cute’ was a nice addition and I could almost forgive you,” She giggled “Almost,” The boy asked She nodded, “I’ll forgive you enough that were still friends but there is still something that you can do to make it better,” “How many have you had?” He laughed pointing to her cup, “You ramble when you’re drunk. “I am not drunk,” She defended, “This is only my second one,” “Sure,” JJ continued to chuckle, “What's that thing I can do to fully have you forgive me?” He asked, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “I can give you a hint,” The girl said, throwing her hands around his neck, and kissing his cheek softly. He got the memo pretty fast, his lips were on hers in seconds of her pulling back from his cheek. Their lips trapped in a kiss that made his stomach do backflips. Pulling away to rest his forehead against hers, they both smiled. “Do you forgive me?” He asked She kissed the tip of his nose, “I think so,”

What if I'm down? What if I'm out? What if I'm someone you won't talk about? I'm fallin' again I'm fallin' again I'm fallin'

They’d walk around The Cut after dark when the streetlights light up the world, and everything quieted down. They walked through town hand and hand, laughing at everything and nothing. He pulled her close by throwing his arm around her shoulder as they sat at the end of a random boat dock. Their feet dangling in the water as she leaned into his side.

“Thank you, J,” She mumbled as the sun was creeping over the treetops. “For what?” He hummed “Being you.” Her words left him confused for a second until she continued, “You’re so unapologetically you. You’re not boring, you know how to live and you don't care what school I may or may not be going to.” “Because that stuff doesn't matter to me,” He mumbled “I know,” The girl nodded, “But still, thank you.” She kissed his cheek softly before giving his lips a light peck. “I think I should be thanking you more than anything,” She shook her head, “No, I want to.” JJ insisted, “You don't need to help me every time I get hurt, but you do. And you don’t need to give me a place to crash but you never take me home. That's more than I can ask for,” “Its nothing,” She shrugged, JJ leant in, capturing her lips in a deep kiss.

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not-safeforsanders · 4 years

Text

bad ideas

Title from Bad Ideas by Tessa Violet!

Honestly i loved writing for this ship I THINK for the first time, and I might...write a follow up chapter w some,,,romance *gasp* but idk that might be too much yearning. Don’t hold me too it though because I’m lazy and will probably forget to do it.

Explicit Content; 18+ ONLY. Minors do not interact with my blog!

Ship: Emile/Remus (Dukemile???)

Word Count: 2962

Plot(?): Emile gets dragged to a party not entirely against his will, Remus is a flirt.

Req by Anon!

The thrum of music drifts from inside the house into the streets surrounding it, the lights dim because the owners can afford lights that vary in brightness, the sound of singing and drunken serenades depict a party that no one would want to miss. Except Emile, who is huddled in the back garden on a bench that swings, his feet tucked to the edge of the seat as it sways in the Autumn air.

He sips the cider in his hand and scrolls through his phone with the other, wondering if he can just walk away or if he’s supposed to be chaperoning his best friend, Remy, the man he’d come, and been bullied into attending, with. This is the first time he’s attended a house party, it’s as underwhelming as he’d expected it to be; after all the loud noises and rowdy crowds had never been anything enticing to him, so the outside world and the distant sound of musical beats are more suited for his appeal.

The man with the bubblegum blue hair is enjoying his own company on the little bench-swing-thing when the sound of a throat clearing has him looking up from his phone. “Is this seat taken?” He blinks, pushing his glasses up his nose to survey the newcomer, a man with long ebony hair (half of it tied back in a bun, the rest falling down over his shoulders in curling waves), before he shakes his head slowly, a little tentatively.

“No, it isn’t.” The stranger grins and sits beside him, pulling his long legs up so he’s curled in the opposite corner, it would look uncomfortable if it didn’t also look so natural to the stranger, who places a cigarette between his lips and fumbles for a lighter whilst the chair rocks a little more from its disturbance.

“So…” smoke curls from the stranger’s lips “...what is a pretty guy like you sat outside all alone?” the way he says ‘pretty’ has Emile’s heart skipping a beat, his cheeks flushing in the dark and lamplight of the back garden, but he just shrugs a little, suddenly all the words he’s ever known slipping from between his teeth. “Not used to a party?” He asks, inhaling again and blowing the smoke away from Emile, his head tilting to the side to stare through dark eyes at the other man; there’s a smile on his lips that’s simultaneously flirtatious and curious...like he’s staring straight through Emile.

And Emile is not used to scrutiny at all. He turns his face away and bites his lips, knowing that his cheeks must be crimson right now; he feels hot all over. “Not really...” the brown-eyed man finally replies, voice scratchy and higher than usual “...it’s my first party ever, and I’m mostly underwhelmed, I don’t like loud noises or crowds so I don’t know what I was expecting really.” He smiles awkwardly, finally meeting the stranger’s eyes again, they look green in the garden lights, bright and full of mischief. “What’s your name?” Now he’s curious.

“Remus...do you have a name or do I keep referring to you as ‘angel’ in my head?” Emile laughs then because nobody has ever been that forward in his life to him, and he can feel the way the hairs prick on the back of his neck at the sheer disbelief and excitement of that.

“Emile, but ‘angel’ is fine too,” He shuffles around a little, so he too is curled up into his corner, feet flat against the bench, his ankles brushing Remus’. The brunet smiles and leans back, bringing his cigarette to his lips, for a moment he seems to just smoke and admire Emile, a look that admittedly has the shorter a little flustered; it’s such an intense thing when someone’s eyes are studying the contours of your face. He should feel uncomfortable, usually he would, but he’s bored and a little tired and Remus is...very pretty. He would like to know what this man’s lips taste like and if his beard is scratchy on his own skin.

“I could keep flirting with you all night, but I’ll just cut to the chase, do you feel like getting out of here?” Smoke trails from his lips as he speaks and Emile grins.

“Okay.”

It’s out of character sure, but he’s no blushing virgin, he’s an adult who can make terrible mistakes as many times as he wants. Remus puts his cigarette out on the bench and moves to his feet, holding his hand out for the other to take; Emile takes it and allows himself to be pulled back into the house, through the winding paths of bodies all lost in their own little world (or worlds shared with others, through lips and teeth and tongue, or just a good laugh). He’s excited, not particularly in a way he should be, but his heart pounds in his chest once they’re back outside in the air, his cardigan blowing behind him as he holds a stranger’s hand down lukewarm streets.

Emile finds his back pressed to a closed front door the moment it slams behind him, fifteen minutes after leaving the club; he doesn’t really know where he is and he also doesn’t care as lips press to his, the scratch of a moustache and beard pleasant around his mouth, a warm body pressing to his own. He squeaks as he’s lifted up, his arms and legs clinging to a man who is much stronger than he looks (and taller too), it’d be romantic if this wasn’t the most non-romantic adventure he’s ever had.

The bed is softer than his own, the body that clambers on top of his own is warmer too, he spreads his legs to accommodate Remus’ body, his eyes falling shut as the other man’s lips press to his neck, teeth nipping and mouth sucking at the freckled skin; Remus’ hands drift underneath his shirt, pushing the light pink garment up until there’s fingers playing with one of his nipples, a feeling that has him making a breathless sound. Not a moan, more ticklish than that.

Remus chuckles and shifts away from the collage of bruises he’s making on the other’s neck to press his lips to the exposed skin of Emile’s chest, sucking at his nipples one by one, his tongue massaging the pale pink bud. The shorter man relaxes then, any worry he had about sleeping with a stranger slipping from his mind as that mouth trails down his body, Remus stops just under his belly button before pressing his mouth around the other man’s clothed hardening cock, it twitches underneath the touch.

Emile is definitely blushing now.

The taller man leans up a little and grabs a few condoms and some lube out of the drawer beside his bed, whilst Emile counts how fast his heart is beating the moment hands are unbuttoning his jeans. He’s sure he’s shaking, but he’s not panicked, just exhilarated and nervous. Remus notes the nerves and pauses “Are you okay?” the only sincerity that had occurred between them really.

“Yeah, just...not used to this.” Remus smiles down at him and leans down to kiss him, easing Emile’s nerves with a kiss far too gentle for the situation of sleeping with a stranger. Emile bites his lip just as gently. Remus moans in a way that is not gentle at all, rocking his hips down against Emile’s. The slide of their clothed cocks has them both gasping into each other’s mouth, heat shoots through the blue-haired man’s body in a way that makes his head spin wonderfully.

Remus moves to tug the other man’s pants and underwear down his legs, discarding them to the side before opening the wrapped of the flavoured condom with a dexterity that’s way too practised. “Safe sex and all that,” he chuckles “as much as I’d love to be swallowing your cum,” Emils’ cock twitches at that, and he buries his face in his hands with a slight embarrassment, Remus bats his hands away gently. “I want to see that pretty face,” he rolls the condom onto Emile’s hard cock and leans down to take him in his mouth, making himself comfortable between the other’s legs. The smaller man’s eyes close and he focuses on the sensation of the other’s practised movements, taking him in and out of his mouth in a rhythmic pace that is neither fast nor slow. There’s a warmth spreading through him that has Emile sliding his cardigan off his arms as best as he can without disturbing the other, leaning up to look down at him.

Remus is in no rush, seemingly enjoying the sensation of having a dick in his mouth as he leans his weight onto one arm to wrap his other hand around the base of Emile’s cock, picking up the pace a little with both his hand and his mouth, his eyes meeting Emile’s to see the flushed expression on his face.

He’s a bit of a tease, that much is very apparent.

Emile is breathless before Remus finally picks up the pace, enjoying the way the other man squirms underneath him, a sweat breaking over his body as his heart raced in his chest, the corners of his mind feeling a little fuzzy. Emile lies back, no longer propping himself up as he can feel his arms shaking, his moans no longer distanced as they get louder and longer, until his hips jerk into the brunet’s mouth, his whole body trembling. He jerks a few more times as Remus sucks lightly at his cock through his orgasm, and for a few moments following it.

“You sound like a fucking melody princess,” He slides the condom off of Emile’s cock, tying it off and discarding it on the bedside table. Emile doesn’t want to admit how weak the nickname made him feel, bringing his hands up to his face to wipe sweat from his skin and maybe hide the blush spreading to his chest. He moves his hands away at the short laugh the taller man gives and stares up at the near-stranger hovering over his body before accepting the hard kiss he receives. He doesn’t know if he can go for another round, but Remus’ tongue dips against his own and he thinks he can sure fucking try. “Mind if I fuck you or are you sensitive?” The sentence sounds too casual and punctuated by a quick kiss, Emile shakes his head.

“How do you want me?”

“Hands and knees sweetheart.” Remus squeezes his thigh and pulls back, the smaller man moves into position, tugging his shirt off to stop the sensation of it sticking to his skin, he tosses it to the side and tries not to feel self-conscious, a thought that comes and goes when Remus makes a small noise at the back of his throat, just before his clothes follow after Emile’s, his hands coming down to squeeze the other’s hips, which is all the warning he gets before Remus’ tongue is pressing against his asshole.

What do you know, the beard does scratch.

It’s very pleasant.

Emile has not had his ass eaten many times, but it’s a nice sensation to have a tongue pressing firmly against him. It’s not enough to have his cock twitching again, but it still elicits a small shiver of arousal. Remus pulls back and grabs the lube, pouring it onto his fingers and warming it before he slowly begins to press one in. He seems to clock on that Emile is not well-versed in sexual encounters, so he doesn’t try to rush it, no matter his own rushed flush of heat just from looking at the other man.

Emile exhales heavily through his nose as he lets the other stretch him open, his eyes falling closed as he leans his head forward. “Are you all right?” Remus asks, pausing and kneeling back on the heels of his feet, tilting his head to the side to get a glimpse of Emile’s face.

“Uh…” Emile trails off after a moment “I don’t know.” Remus pulls his fingers out and wipes his hand off on the towel. “Shit, sorry,”

“It’s fine,” he says it quickly, shuffling to kneel next to Emile, who kneels up himself, his cheeks flushed. Remus, if you’d have asked his opinion, thinks Emile looks a right picture, the sort that belongs in a museum; his round face flushed and body sticky with sweat. “If you’re not feeling it then you’re not feeling it, it’s no fun if you’re not into it, that’s just boring as fuck.”

“I could...suck you off?”

“Do you want to do that?”

Emile takes a minute, gathering his thoughts before he smiles and nods “Yeah, I would really like to do that,” Remus lies back and gestures in a sort of ‘all yours’ motion, looking up at the other, his eyes running over Emile’s body with a hum of appreciation. He really wants to run his fingertips over the stretch marks on his thighs and stomach, and maybe suck a few more bruises into his skin. But the other, although now looking quite eager as he grabs a condom and positions himself between Remus’ legs, looks quite tired already.

He struggles with the wrapper, apologising but Remus just shakes his head with a laugh and sits up to open it for him, almost endeared by this sweet creature that barely seems to know his way around these situations. This has, thus far, been nothing like a one night stand he’s had before; sure they’re not all serious, and there’s occasionally ones that they get a good laugh out of but they were always a type. Cocky, mostly. Emile is fumbling his way through a sex life he barely knows how to have, and it’s cute, it’s...different, refreshing.

He’d almost consider asking for his number once all this was over.

Then Emile finally gets his mouth on Remus’ cock and the other man sinks back against the bed, expecting the head to be a little uncoordinated, unpractised, nervous, maybe even fumbling but no, oh no; Emile takes him down his throat without gagging and swallows around his cock like it’s nothing. “Fuck,” Remus utters, his hand running through Emile’s hair but not tugging, just encouraging him as his eyes fall closed, focusing on the slide of the smaller man’s mouth against his cock, the stimulation and trying not to fuck his throat like every nerve in his body is begging him too.

Emile does not take his time or tease, he knows exactly what he wants and how to get it, his movements far more practised than he’d demonstrated thus far. Despite the fact Remus can tell his arms and jaw are aching, he doesn’t slow down, until Remus is gasping underneath him, eyes screwing shut as he teeters over the edge in a way that feels far too slow and much too fast at the same time. Adrenaline pours through his body as he reaches his high, and then seems to seep out of him as he relaxes into the mattress underneath him.

Emile sucks lightly at the head of his cock before kneeling up with a grin, Remus gives him a tired grin back and pats the space next to him all the bed, rolling the condom off his own cock lazily, before tying it off and discarding it, a low huff of breath as he bring a hand up to wipe the sweat off his forehead. “No need to rush off, unless you’re needing too, you look exhausted.” The other nods tiredly, pulling the blanket up over his body and curling up a little, his eyes closing. Remus admires him for a moment, studying his round face and freckled cheeks, before he too starts to drift off to sleep.

Emile wakes with a start by the sound of his phone ringing, his dreary mind forcing him to sit up; he recalls the previous night, tiredly, and winces as he leans down to grab his phone out of his jeans and answer it before the loud noise wakes up the snoring man beside him. Remus, who is only really half asleep, blinks awake after a moment, stretching as he rolls over to look up at Emile. The other gives a sheepish smile as the sound of his friend and roommate’s voice comes through the phone speaker. “Where are you? You just disappeared and I thought you’d come home but you’re not here so I panicked and…”

“Hi Remy,” Emile interrupts with a small laugh “I’m fine, I’ll be home soon.”

“Holy shit are you at someone else’s? Emile Picani you better…” Emile hangs up with a wince, his cheeks flushing slightly.

“I suppose I should get back home before my roommate kills me.” He sighs, feeling somewhat more self conscious than he did the previous night, perhaps it’s the stillness of the room or being unused to be naked around other people. Emile does not dislike his body at all, but nakedness does not come quite so naturally to him as it does apparently with Remus, who yawns and sits up, the blankets pooling around his waist.

“As much as I would love for you to stay here all day and all night again,” The taller man grins “You’re probably right, don’t suppose I have a chance of grabbing your number.” Emile bites back a smile as he nods, opening up his contacts and clicking the add contact button, before handing it over to Remus. “I better get a call.”

“Believe me, you will.”

And he did get a call too, many, in fact, over their future lives.

#not safe for sanders #what IS this ship name

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cherrybombusa · 3 years

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GROUP THREE - THE CAROUSEL. FAILED.

PLAYERS:

THE HEARTBREAK KID - Casey Russell. THE ARTIST - Sloane Salt. THE CLASSIC - Libby Logan.

EARNED PERKS:

- PUZZLERS: Talk about minds of freakin’ steel! As the only group to solve the puzzle in ONE guess, Casey Russell, and Sloane Salt have both earned themselves a chance to go back and fix it! If a choice happens to go wrong for them in a future event, they will be allowed ONE do-over. Use it wisely!

MEMORABLE MOMENTS:

- Casey fell on his face, and cost the group a time penalty on his run back from the Ferris Wheel. - The Gang only used one try in their puzzle, and succeeded! - Sloane dropped the second key, and failed to disarm the Candy Girl’s bomb. The carousel was destroyed in the blast. - As the one who dropped the key, Sloane was blamed for the destruction of the carousel, and arrested. On the bright side, she saved Libby and Casey from spending a night in jail... But this will come back to bite them all in-game.

When it was put there, he doesn’t know, but the note should be enough to make Casey’s heart skip. There, in the case of his instrument is a folded piece of paper. On its surface? A threat. “COME TO THE NEW CAROUSEL AT 7:30PM SHARP, OR YOUR SECRET IS MINE TO SPILL!” @caseyfm

When it was put there, she doesn’t know, but the note should be enough to make Sloane’s heart skip. There, hidden within her deck of tarot cards is a folded piece of paper. On its surface? A threat. “COME TO THE NEW CAROUSEL AT 7:30PM SHARP, OR YOUR SECRET IS MINE TO SPILL!” @saltofthcearth

When it was put there, she doesn’t know, but the note should be enough to make Libby’s heart skip. There, in her ride locker, is a folded piece of paper. On its surface? A threat. “COME TO THE NEW CAROUSEL AT 7:30PM SHARP, OR YOUR SECRET IS MINE TO SPILL!” @hellolibby

THE NARRATOR: Reunions were supposed to be pleasant occasions, weren’t they? They were supposed to bring feelings of joy, and nostalgia; you were supposed to forget the awkward haze that had plagued your years of high school, and… pretend like the good old days were actually just that. Good. Absence did make the heart grow fonder and all that, didn’t it?

Though, maybe it’s silly to wonder why this little reunion might not be so pleasant. The three of them - Casey, Libby, and Sloane - all walk up to the Carousel at the same time. They all meet each other’s eyes, and though nobody says it, everyone hears the same thought in their head. ‘Fuck.’

LIBBY: "So..." Libby's voice wavers dangerously - her hands shake, cast and all - but somehow she fights every urge she has within herself to run the other direction before chaos can unravel itself all around them. If the Candy Girl wanted them all here, then she doubted running away would be of much use. They were all trapped in Cherry… But this time, it wasn’t ‘small town syndrome’ keeping them back. "Probably safe to assume running into each other here isn't just a coincidence, right?"

SLOANE: There was an urge to reach out to the both of them and pull them in close that Sloane resisted, looking between Libby and Casey. So much for a lull in this Candy Girl's machinations, it seems a week was enough for her to plan something more. She swallowed thickly and then shook her head, folding her arms over her chest nervously. "Well, obviously I wouldn't be here if I didn't need to be." She motioned towards the Carousel. Talk about betraying her cause.

CASEY: Casey follows Sloane's gesture to the carousel. How did wooden horses somehow seem so menacing at night? It was thirty minutes before Mystic Cherry were due to perform and instead he was here about to do...? The sinking feeling in his gut tells him that this is going to lead to no good. "Yeah, this definitely isn't my idea of a warm up before a gig..." he mumbles, before his gaze falls on them both.

THE NARRATOR: There’s no clock to strike the time - nothing to let them know that 7:30-sharp has approached but the faint sound of Dean Hargrove’s voice in the distance is enough to let them know. They're all watching each other, but they can't help but flinch at the intrusion of the sound... And then, yet again ,when Hargrove is cut off by a voice that none of them quite recognize. They’re too far away to hear what the commotion is about, but somehow they know… Their night just took a turn for the worse.

It would have been impressive timing if it weren’t so fucking frightening, but at just that moment, their very own issue of the Cherry Bomb is dropped from the roof of the carousel, and onto it’s platform - near one of the old horses that looked a little too off-it’s-rocker. It’s clearly meant for them… It has to be. The only problem? The Gang is stuck, woefully, behind a locked fence.

There are a few ways to get to it, at least. They could always take their chances climbing the fence to get inside of the Carousel; it doesn’t look that high.

Casey knows the guys who work here… They’re always leaving things lying around. Maybe it might be best to look around for a lanyard someone might have dropped.

Then again, Libby has been treating the Boardwalk like a second home since she was just a kid, and she says there’s always another way in… Maybe they look for a hole in the fence?

MAKE A CHOICE: YOU MUST RETRIEVE THE CHERRY BOMB. DO YOU CLIMB THE GATE [SURVIVOR], LOOK FOR A LANYARD [PROBLEM SOLVING], OR LOOK FOR A HOLE IN THE FENCE [PERCEPTION]?

LIBBY: "Come on, guys, Casey's right. What are the odds that someone didn't drop their key? It's the boardwalk." It's easy to tell when Libby is determined to get something done. For the first time that day, she ties her hair up in a high ponytail - she crinkles her nose as she scans the area. She probably looked a little too much like a 60’s witch from her favorite sick day show - but, she can’t help herself. Libby always felt a little smarter when she was acting like somebody else. "Sloane - you look over by the hot dog cart. Case, you should probably take the space behind the ride, and I'll... Look everywhere else. I guess.

THE NARRATOR: It’s really a wonder the boardwalk even stays open, considering how careless some of the employees can be, but after a few minutes of searching for a stray key, our little slice of the gang finds their hands on one. They unlock the gate with ease and all pile in toward the Carousel; eager to get their hands on that ominous little magazine.

The cover of the Cherry Bomb is collaged with photos of Lux, the inside? Crime scene photos. There’s no pictures of her body, of course - that would be crude, even for the Candy Girl… kind of. But images of the blood soaked into her carpet; still pictures of her bedroom, flaunting a life once lived, those are there. A shot of her suicide note, ‘I’m sorry, I love you,’ and all.

And right there, in the middle of the spread, like a centerfold? A note, written in Sharpie - just for our ragtag little slice of the gang.

CANDY GIRL: GET OUT,,, GET OUT, WHEREVER YOU’RE LOCKED!!!! NOT A FAN OF SMALL SPACES?? I’LL STICK YOU IN A BOX. SOMEONE IS MISSING, BUT I WON’T SAY WHO… FIND THE KEY, AND FIND OUT WHO.

BUT WATCH OUT, WATCH OUT! YOU’RE ON THE CLOCK! LET IT RUN OUT, AND THEY’LL STAY IN THE BOX. WILL THE TIDE COME IN? HMM, MAYBE IT WON’T. OR BETTER YET? MAYBE YOUR FRIENDS WILL FLOAT.

YOU’RE NOT LOCKED IN, BUT IT’S STILL ON YOU! FIND THE KEY, OR THIS FRIEND DIES TOO.

THE NARRATOR: Oh...my. Now, that’s quite the predicament, isn’t it? I suppose we’re at least lucky that the Candy Girl leaves the rules simple, right? Find a key, and maybe she doesn’t kill one of your friends. Maybe.

MAKE A CHOICE: ONE OF YOUR FRIENDS HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED AND LOCKED AWAY IN A BOX. YOU MUST FIND THE KEY TO SAVE THEM. DO YOU LOOK FOR CLUES [PROBLEM SOLVING], OR SEARCH FOR A KEY WILDLY [LUCK - HIGH RISK, HIGH REWARD]?

SLOANE: Despite the rising heart rate that Sloane is sporting after looking through that shiny new issue of the Cherry Bomb and the revelation of this new note, she's standing tall, directing the other two. "Divide and conquer, like before. There have gotta be clues around here somewhere... she dropped this from the roof, maybe there's something else." Sloane's boots carry her around the perimeter of the Carousel as she searches for something, anything to give an indication of who is in the box and a way to find this damn key.

THE NARRATOR: Look for clues. Good idea, Sloane! They split up, but maybe it's better that way.

Libby stays focused on the sharpie scribbled riddle in the ‘zine while the other two search the operator’s booth up and down for something useful. Not so useful, but strange enough to take note of? A cherry red briefcase, shoved into one of the dusty, storage lockers. Not only that… but maybe there’s actually more to the note than they thought.

MAKE A CHOICE: YOU MUST FIGURE OUT THE PUZZLE. ADMIN EM IS HERE TO HELP, BUT MAYBE TRY THE WELCOME DESK TO START.

SLOANE: With shaky hands, Sloane reaches for the briefcase, after staring at the damn riddle for what felt like so long the words had ceased to make sense. She input their first attempt at cracking the code: 3142.

MAKE A CHOICE: SUCCESS!

THE NARRATOR: With the numbers all in the correct order, the briefcase pops open rather easily. They find a key, but along with it, our little gang sees a mess of wires, something that looks like a keyhole, a clock ticking down…. And a note.

CANDY GIRL: ANOTHER SURPRISE - AND THIS WILL BE FUN - I GOTTA GO, I GOTTA RUN! BUT BEFORE I DO, I PLANTED A BOMB! AND IT WILL BLOW UP WHEN THE TIMER SAYS ONE! SO, FIND A NEW KEY, TRY OUT THE LOCK! SEE IF YOU CAN DISARM IT - BEAT THE CLOCK! BUT IF YOU DON’T - AND YOU DON’T GO BOOM - THEN ENJOY THE INTERROGATION ROOM!

WHERE TO FIND THE KEY? THAT’S A DIFFERENT STORY. I’M TALL, AND I’M ROUND, AND I’M SLOW, AND I’M BORING! I’M FAR AWAY, SO YOU’LL HAVE TO SPRINT, BUT IF YOU’RE RIGHT, YOU WON’T TAKE THE HIT. YOUR SECOND OPTION? MERRY GO ROUND! CLIMB ALL THE WAY UP! OR SOMEONE WILL DROWN. THE KEY COULD BE THERE, THE KEY COULD BE NOT… OH, WELL, FIND OUT! OR MAYBE YOU’LL ROT.

THE NARRATOR: Well, the threat is clear. They must solve the riddle, get the second key, and disarm the bomb before the timer runs out… if they don’t, the whole thing might be coming down. And they might just go down with it.

CASEY: A bomb. They were now dealing with a bomb. The words barely have a chance to register in his mind before they're all scrambling to work out what the words on the paper mean and how to save their friend. With his heart still in his mouth, it barely feels like it has a moment to settle before he's spluttering out, "it has to be the ferris wheel, right?" Looking at both of his friends for their sign of agreement.

MAKE A CHOICE: YOU HAVE DECIDED TO GO TO THE FERRIS WHEEL. NOW YOU MUST DECIDE WHO SPRINTS THERE BEFORE THE TIMER RUNS OUT. [STRENGTH, FIGHTER, BRAVERY.]

CASEY: With the agreement of his friends - he's bolting off. Barely a thought running through his head other than the knowledge that he has to get to the ferris wheel before the timer ticks down to zero. Their friendship circle has suffered enough with Lux's death without adding in a casualty at the hands of Candy Girl. Scrambled together with the thought that he's lost enough family over the years, too. So, it's sheer brute force that gets him through the sprint, running like his own life depends on it because... well... it kinda does. With the ferris wheel in sight, he hopes he will make it in time.

THE NARRATOR: Heart racing, chest aching; adrenaline pulsing through his veins, but somehow he finds the key hanging from the Ferris’ Wheel’s gate like a prize less than two minutes later. With that in his hands, he just has to sprint all the way back to the carousel to save his friends.

It should be just as easy - it has to be - but maybe the pressure of getting back in time is getting to his head, because on the way back… Casey stumbles. It’s not it’s the wipeout of the century, but it certainly shaves some time off of that fucking timer in the briefcase. Not to mention some skin off of his face -- and is that blood dripping down his collar? Fuck.

MAKE A CHOICE: MODERATE SUCCESS. THE GANG HAS SUFFERED A TIME PENALTY DUE TO CASEY’S STUMBLE.

THE NARRATOR: They have the key, and now they just have to disarm that fucking bomb. It seems simple enough… But it would probably be better if whoever did it was calm. Or good at problem solving. Or just… Really, really, really good at surviving bleak situations. Any takers?

MAKE A CHOICE: SOMEONE HAS TO DISARM THE BOMB [CALM, PROBLEM-SOLVING, SURVIVOR.]

SLOANE: Sloane has dealt with many a crisis, but none so bad as this one, when lives are on the line and there's a god damn bomb in a briefcase like they're in a cheesy 80s action flick. Taking a deep breath, she takes the key from Casey, worried eyes having to fight to not focus in on his injury. They don't have time. They have to do this. "I can do it." She assures them both, steadying her hands and clenching her jaw as she lifts the key towards the keyhole steadily. "Fuck it." She mutters as she tries the one they've retrieved.

THE NARRATOR: Holy shit. Holy shit.

THE NARRATOR: I can believe this one is really happening.

THE NARRATOR: The three of them held their breath - Casey and Libby watched while Sloane went for the lock with only 30 seconds left on the timer… only to drop it.

It was the fumble of the century - the sound of the key falling into the hidden mechanisms of the carousel like a taunt - and as the clock counted down, they knew they only had one choice…

The three of them took off running as hard as they could - their lives depended on it, after all - and though it was a mighty effort, they didn’t make it far enough not to be blown off of their feet. They all land in a pile together; beaten, broken… And absolutely fucked when only minutes later, the Boardwalk Police come running.

They expect for handcuffs to be thrown onto the three of them, but as Dean Hargrove comes running up behind them, he instructs them only to arrest Sloane.

He had known Casey and Libby since they were both kids, after all. They were his son’s best friends. How was he supposed to believe that they had something to do with this over the Salt girl? Libby and Casey try to protest, but it’s no use. Sloane is going with them to the police station, and… that’s that.

MAKE A CHOICE: YOU HAVE FAILED YOUR EVENT, BUT AT LEAST YOU FOUND THE FIRST KEY. YOUR FRIEND HAS A CHANCE.

#bio rp #town rp #oc rp #skeleton rp #small town rp #secrets rp #gossip rp #gossip girl rp #90s rp #classic rp #plot event 001.#plot event 001 - the carousel.

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asianartsblog · 3 years

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LEK BORJA RENEWS FILIPINO HISTORY THROUGH ART

BY PRECIOUS RINGOR

Asian Pasifika Arts Collective New Outlooks Blog

April 2, 2021

http://ow.ly/fEby50FlQWZ

Editor’s Note: Precious Ringor brings us a second artist profile, this time of Filipino American interdisciplinary artist and poet Lek Borja, whose work is an attempt to track the continuous colonization across time, first within the Philippines from Spain and the United States, through present day America and trying to give voice to Filipino life against a white hegemony. Precious displays how Lek crosses borders of cultural stereotypes, seeking to expand the visions placed on Filipinos by other oppressive powers, and inserting her culture in art spaces where they are new and unfamiliar, but for the community, reminders of home.

Header Image: “Heritage at the Threshold” by Timothy Singratsomboune | Digital photography collage, 5400 x 4050 px, 2021.

Getting to know someone virtually is one of the sad realities we’ve had to face because of COVID-19 regulations. It’s both a blessing and a curse—we’ve become a global village, but at the same time we’ve all had more eye and back problems from sitting around and zooming this past year.

A zoom call and an hour was all I had to get to know Lek Vercauteren Borja, a Filipino American interdisciplinary artist and poet widely known for her thought-provoking work into the Asian diaspora. Chatting with Lek didn’t feel like a job though; time flies fast when you’re having fun.

One of the things I noted was Lek’s warm and friendly nature. Most of the time, it’s uncommon for an interviewee to ask questions about the interviewer. Lek unabashedly admitted that she did a bit of ‘stalking’ before we hopped on Zoom, “I like to know about the person I’m talking with, even before the interview starts.”

Lek started in poetry. Armed with a love for Shakespeare, she pursued a dual concentration in Art and Creative Writing at Antioch University. It was there that she first fell in love with art history and sculpture. During that time, her first chapbook, Android, was published by Plan B Press. She took this as a sign to continue pursuing a career in arts.

As an artist, she admits that’s where she gets inspiration from, “I want to talk about the history of Filipinos, the invisible stories. Growing up in the Philippines and studying there, I realized there was a lot missing in our history books. It seemed as if it were written from a western perspective.” She reminded me so much of the Philippines, of home. Because of our similar upbringing, I immediately understood her search for truth.

The themes of home and longing, of memory and the present, and of giving Filipino lives new voices, carry across her work, and no more palpably than her piece Evolution of the Aswang Myth, what she calls “seed and the origin” to all her current works. Lek says “Without it, I wouldn’t be thinking about art, the way I’m making now.” This 8 x 8 feet painting explores the origins of the aswang or manananggal, a Filipino mythical creature typically depicted as a woman feared for its penchant for eating infants and unborn fetuses during the night. Interestingly, the aswang was also a word ascribed to the Filipina women who went against the forced religious conversion by Spanish friars during their colonization of the Philippines.

March 2021 marked 500 years since Spanish ships first arrived on the shores of the Philippines.

Since then, our country fought hard for liberation, first from Spain and then from the United States of America. In retrospect, it hasn’t been long since the Philippines became an independent nation. Today, we are striving to find our voice amidst the imperialistic erasure we’ve endured.

As Lek puts it, “What propelled me to tell these stories is the feeling that I had no voice. For one, I didn’t speak English well so I couldn’t really talk about what I was going through or how I felt. That’s why a lot of my work now focuses on bringing my experiences of living in the Philippines at the forefront and seeing how that’s connected to bigger conversations and narratives around us.”

Currently, Lek’s work called Anak (My Child) is being featured in the gallery at Towson University’s Asian Arts & Culture Center.

View Anak (My Child) Exhibit: https://towson.edu/anak

Besides online exhibitions and virtual galleries, Lek is also conducting several workshops in Baltimore’s upcoming Asia North Festival. These workshops are a good model for Lek’s philosophy in making art out of personal histories. Whether it’s experiences of displacement or change, she points out that everyone’s story matters and there will always be a community of people who can empathize with that.

“I think it’s really important for our stories to be brought to light in the larger narrative. They think by calling us model minority, our problems can easily be brushed aside” I lamented the steady rise of xenophobic crimes these past few months.

“I agree, it’s a really complex issue” Lek adds, “Why are we so silent? Why do we stand in the shadows? I’ll probably look for an answer my entire life. It’s hard to talk about our struggles and it’s not easy to have conversations about the past. There’s a culture of silence that’s been normalized and it’s perpetuated even in our own homes. But that’s part of the work I do, bringing everything from the past into the forefront so we can have deeper conversations about it.”

Speaking of the past, Lek’s introduction to the arts started in Tarlac, a city located north of the Philippines. Besides being known as the most multicultural province, the city is home to numerous sugar and rice plantations. “The population of our barrio was probably less than 1,000. Our family had a farm as well as a sugar-cane and rice field plantation. My inang [grandmother] also worked in the market as a butcher. It was a pretty simple country lifestyle but my childhood was amazing.”

Life in the country has been instrumental to Lek’s artistry. “The memory of the landscape and of the community is an extension of my art,” Lek explains. As a young girl, her biggest inspiration comes from her grandfather who, like herself, was also an artist. Lek would copy his drawings and eventually create drawings of her own. Recently, Lek has started to incorporate banana leaves into her work. Banana leaves are incredibly important to Filipino culture as it is used for cooking and traditional homebuilding.

“Sounds like you had to find your own path, coming here at such a young age and experiencing culture shock. America is very different from the Philippines!” I quipped.

“It was snowing where I first came here!” she exclaimed, thinking back to her initial introduction of America. “It was November when we landed in New York, it was freezing. I remember our families bundling us in huge warm winter coats before wecould even say hello. It was definitely a huge shock.”

I laugh, thinking back to when I first arrived in California ten years ago. Silly to think I was already freezing in sunny temperatures when she had to endure piles of snow. “Do you think you’ve had to change yourself in order to adjust to that culture shock?”

“For a long time I really didn’t know who I was,” Lek admits. “When I was younger, the school I went to was predominantly white. What I thought about how I should present myself came from that image. I dyed my hair blond and put on blue colored contacts to fit in. It was a lot of assimilation and cultural erasure. I started talking less Tagalog and less Ilocano. But art has really helped me find myself. It made me think more deeply about who I really was and what was important to me on an authentic level.”

Halfway through our conversation, we slowly realized just how similar we were. From migrating at the age of ten to living twenty miles apart in the same city. It was also in chatting that Lek found out I spoke Tagalog fluently, one thing she regrets losing unexpectedly. As it is my first language, Lek asked me to speak it instead. Once again, her warm nature bled through the Zoom interview; I found it refreshing since hardly anyone thinks about the interviewer’s comfort.

Unsurprisingly, community building is important to Lek. Before working, she likes to ask herself the following questions, ‘How is what I’m doing connected to my family and everyone in the Filipino community? How can I better serve my community?’ One of the main reasons she moved to L.A. is to network with other Filipino artists.

“A few years ago, I showed my art alongside a group of all Filipino artists at Avenue 50 Studio gallery for an exhibition that Nica Aquino and Anna Calubayan organized (also both Filipinas). It’s crazy because I’ve lived in and out [of L.A.] for over 10 years now and it was only in 2019 that I started to be part of that community. It’s probably the most fun I've had at an art show, I really felt at home.”

“I’d love to visit the studio’s galleries once it’s safer to go outside”

“Definitely! I’ll keep you updated on any gatherings” Lek pitched excitedly.

“And I'll bring you guys homemade ube cakes and puto pao!” I teasingly replied back.

As our call came to a close I couldn’t help but ask Lek if she had any advice to give to budding AAPI artists.

“I’ll echo what people who have supported me have said in the past: trust yourself and trust that you can make a difference. It’s hard to figure out who you want to be when [the world] has expectations and demands from you. We’re lucky to live in a time where there’s so many possibilities. Figure out what you want to do authentically and genuinely, and go for it.”

Lek continues on, “Personally, it took me a long time to find my voice. When I was in grad school, I had a lot of doubt in myself because most visiting artists and curators couldn’t understand my work. What made it all worth it were the moments that people got [my voice] right away.”

Getting to know Lek and learning about her commitment to showcasing invisible stories has been awe-inspiring; it made me proud to be a Filipino American artist. And in the wake of our hurting AAPI community, I believe it’s incredibly important, now more than ever, to highlight and support works of people like Lek. People who have had to fight for their voice in this world, who our youth could look up to and be inspired to become.

About the Author:

Precious Ringor is a Filipino-American singer/actress/writer residing in Los Angeles, CA. Ringor graduated from Cal State University, Fullerton with a degree in Human Communication Studies where her research is geared towards Asian American socio-cultural communication norms. Besides performing in various theatre shows and indie film sets, Ringor also works as a content contributor to Film Fest Magazine and Outspoken

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buckevantommy · 3 years

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'(Un)Happiest Season' review

Simply put, it wasn't enjoyable as a romance or a comedy or a Christmas flick. It failed on many fronts, but this reviewer from Salon.com puts the thing into words for Happiest Season's main failings:

What's bad: There were two main criticisms of "Happiest Season." The first being: Can't LGBTQ audiences have a holiday movie where the main plot isn't about mining the anxiety and trauma associated with coming out, being closeted and casual homophobia? Then there's the fact that Harper really is just kind of the worst. After pushing Abby back in the closet, Harper ditches her in a town where she doesn't know anyone to go drink with her ex-boyfriend until two in the morning, then proceeds to call Abby "suffocating" when called on it. It's a pattern of s**ty behavior that is pervasive and present throughout the movie, so her redemption arc doesn't feel super genuine.

Why can't we have main queer characters in Christmas movies without their presence being all about their queerness? We want fluffy festiveness, dammit! They could've made Harper less selfish and more attentive while still playing into the *I'm not out yet Because Reasons so we need to hide our gay relationship* trope, but they didn't. Who knows why, but what a waste. 🎄👩‍❤️‍👩☃️

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^ Look at that trailer and tell me you don't expect Misunderstandings with fun and tropey antics + Domestic Christmas Shenanigans + Comfort for Hurt! You will be sorely disappointed. 😞

NOTE: The flick does have a few good moments. And it's probably worth the watch just to see what's missing/mishandled when it comes to queer characters and queer romances in mainstream movies.

But it's not really fun or funny or heart-warming - where are the snowball fights? Insightful conversations? Christmas elements like eggnog/spiced wine, candycanes, mistletoe? Where are the many colourful side characters and the hungover brunches? We get one scene of ice-skating for a few minutes and it's wasted on sibling rivalry bs rather than, say.. Abby and Harper skating together but not being aloud to touch—omg the tension!! 😍

There's just not enough comfort for the hurt Abby (Kstew) goes through; the film wholly lacks those warm-n-fuzzy Christmas vibes; there's just way more wrong with it than is right with it - which sucks, because this had the potential to be such a great movie if only Harper was written as less ignorant/selfish and we'd gotten more enjoyable family interactions and more festive fun - like a celebration in town. Instead we get a few limited shots of the adorable town, a crappy bar, and an OTT fancy Christmas party for performative rich white folk on a career path for power and "perfection" (ie. wholesome family values).

The story they went with was definitely better suited for a dramatic film, so in a romcom setting it really didn't work. Plus the side-characters were flat; we needed more depth from the supporting characters, more meaningful interactions.

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^ Look at those intro credits!! Look at all the domestic happy moments and tell me you don't want to see a movie filled with such fluffy festive goodness!! Well, if you don't want to see such moments, don't worry because you won't. I naturally thought we were going to get this kind of romantic-and-non-romantic happiness dispersed throughout the entire film, but no. Not a one. There's 5 minutes of Happy Couple at the start, and that's it 📸☹️ (unless you count a photo collage of the happy ending and year that follows stuffed into the end credits).

BTW: That intro song is the most Christmasy song in the whole movie. The soundtrack features modern pop songs which 1) don't help set the festive vibe and 2) are really fucking annoying; the song choices are grating, not pleasant, not enjoyable, and they overpower the scenes with a whole lotta noise. I really wish we'd gotten more tunes like the one above. 🎶

About the image below—Abby is actually miserable the entire time, getting worse by the day, barely a smile seen on her.. while Harper is the one schmoozing her family and contacts with teeth bared, so.. this image isn't what you'll get, just fyi:

(also: the only POC actors they had were the perfectionist-stone-faced-bitch's husband and his girlfriend - wife + hubby being secretly separated.)

The things that the Salon reviewer liked are the same things I did (see below), but imho even those elements weren't enough to save this film from being:

an infuriating 102 minute-comedy of errors buoyed by a healthy dose of gaslighting

More cons of the flick are pointed out by denofgeek.com:

Some of its issues come from the structure of the film, which shoehorns very real queer struggles into wacky rom-com tropes too fluffy to contain the stakes at hand. Meanwhile the choice to have one half of the lead couple be so aggressively and repeatedly cruel—while her high school ex Riley, played by the ever-perfect Aubrey Plaza was standing right there having all the chemistry in the world with the other romantic lead—was a fatal one.

It really was a dramatic plot idea crammed into a fluffy narrative. You can see the conflicting genres fighting to stay alive and they both die a slow, agonisingly dull death throughout the film. The whole *Abby being converted to loving Christmas by Harper inviting her to spend the holidays with her family* thing, only to have Harper force their relationship + Abby into the closet. Straight conversion much? I'm 100% sick of heteronormative bs in my queer Christmas films.

For the most part, when you're not feeling for Abby's harsh treatment by her would-be fiance and everyone but Riley ignoring her completely, you will be bored af from the lack of festive cheer - not just twinkle lights and boisterous seasonal music, but those good ol' homey family Christmas vibes. With the Harper house + family members, everything's a performance, so that lack of sincerity and warmth makes for a depressing viewing experience:

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^ Jane (one of Harper's 2 sisters) is the only character allowed to be consistently genuine in the narrative (aside from John, but he's restricted mostly to phonecalls, and Riley - but even she's keeping Harper's secrets). Jane is the only character who is naturally vibrant and reminds us of some of the reasons we get excited about Christmas movies: to feel joy and to enjoy the company around us during the holiday season! 🎄☃️🥳 But rather than give us a fun day out with Jane + Abby, we get Abby + the second sister (i don't even remember her name, just BitchFace) which leads to more bad treatment of Abby - this time by two spoiled af no-smile rich kids. *le sigh* Jane carries the spark of honest joy for the entire Harper clan and that is TOO MUCH to expect of one character, let alone a side-character. 😪

There are so many ways the story could've been tweaked to make more sense and be somewhat enjoyable, including:

The orphan!Abby thing is just bad. Rather than give Abby a voice, chances to let her personality shine, almost everyone interacts with her to merely briefly express their condolences for her long-dead parents 🙄

Abby is a pet-minder, ie. she's an animal lover, yet at no point do we see her interact with animals! Not a dog or cat or hamster, no reindeer at the petting zoo, nothing. 🐕🐈🦎🦜🐠

Riley + Abby getting together (even just a kiss) 👄

Abby + Harper separating so Harper can get her shit together - and then we get several flashforward shots of them separately living their lives (Harper especially), and then meeting back up again - maybe the next holiday season, after some much-needed time apart 🏃‍♀️🤸‍♀️

side characters who engage with Abby in a sincere, meaningful way instead of ignoring her (again, we got Riley, but she was outside of the family dynamic) 😊

MORE FESTIVE CHEER! where were all the staple Christmassy passtimes, the smile-inducing season-specific experiences??? 🎉