#[ i have! written some drafts out / planning to write some more tonight so hopefully i can post those while im out uvu | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

groovyzombiellama · 3 years

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Shy Baby Girl

Title: Shy Baby Girl

Requested? Yes.

Plot: Cato noticing you during practice sessions and he starts flirting with you and teasing you, but slowly falls for your timid and kind nature, and then the night before the games he confesses and you spend the night together.

Warnings: I am attempting to write smut after so long of not writing anything, so i will be attempting to write a detailed smut scene :) (so please be nice to me, I’m so worried about posting this for some reason)

Word count: 3013 (I might have went a little overboard, but I haven’t written in a while, so enjoy a longer story :) )

---***---

You didn’t expect to get drafted for the Games any time soon, and when you were, your whole family was shocked, and your older sister, who actually thought she was going to be the one going in was ready to volunteer, but your dad stopped her, as he believed that you could get through it. You were actually fine with going into the Games, as you had accepted this as your life, and you knew your time was coming, and in the end you guessed it’s better rather sooner than later. But one thing worried you the most, and that was the fact that you hated confrontations, and would much rather be making friends in life, even though you knew that was kinda impossible considering the way the world was now. You were prepared to fight for your life and to win in the Games, but a big part of you dreamed of a day when you didn’t need to fight to survive. You didn’t expect anything going into the whole process, but you were planning on keeping to yourself and not responding to any provocations.

At first, everything was fine, you were almost always training, to make sure you were as ready as possible, but whenever someone needed help, you were there to show them a move or hold their punching bag steady so they could practice accuracy. And that was how you actually caught the attention of Cato, a blonde, blue eyed guy, who ended up being intrigued by the quiet, timid girl, who greeted everyone with a smile. He watched you for a while, trying to pinpoint what it was about you that has him so drawn in, and he decided one day that he was gonna approach you, and teach you the best stance for a fight, considering this his moment to throw in some flirting in the mix. The faint blush that spread across your cheeks every time you saw him, well, it has him hooked. Watching you from afar was nothing compared to being up close and personal, and your shy smile that would grace your lips at his compliments was becoming the highlight of his day. “I see you at the gym every day, and you still struggle with the basics. If I didn’t know better I’d say you were scared.“ He said one day when he noticed that you were not using the stance that he had taught you and as he spoke, he let his hand “accidentally“ brush against yours, his eyes searching for that rosy tint that he felt was the shade only present on your cheeks and couldn’t be found anywhere else in the world.

You brushed him off, already used to his teasing, saying how you were not scared and if he needed you to prove it, he is free to challenge you to a sparing match. Cato smiled softly, a feature you had grown to like, and you lowered your gaze to hide your own smile that was curving your lips. But of course, Cato caught that and while he swore his heart was beating faster seeing it, he had to default to teasing you about how you were still not comfortable with him, despite knowing each other for a while now. The reason why he would always tease you and playfully flirt with you (although you were oblivious to that one) was because he was not really yet ready to confess his feelings to you. Pretty odd huh? A guy like him, who was training to fight for his life in the Hunger Games, basically a show for the rich to watch children get killed off one by one, until there is only one winner, afraid of what a girl thought about him.

Although he didn’t know how, he knew that he had to tell you abut how he felt, hoping that in case you felt the same, he could count on your alliance, and at the end he would let you come out on top, or would hopefully be able to convince the government to let you both win and stay together. And he had his mind set on telling you the night before the games. The fact that you were so timid and at the same time so fierce and powerful made Cato’s head spin. There was just someting about you, someting in your eyes that showed that despite the world crumbling around you, your innocence was someting intact that could not be destroyed and he wanted to protect that so much, he wanted to make sure you are not exposed to anything that could damage that, no matter the fact that you would have to fight for your life, he hoped you would let him stick by your side and protect you.

Just like you were unaware of his flirting and the fact that he felt the same way for you as you did for him, you wanted to tell him how you felt, but you just couldn’t. There were a few times that you were certain that you were going to tell him about your feelings, but the moment you would see him, the way his sky blue eyes bore into yours and how they would light up when he smiles or develop their signature mischievous glint when he was teasing you, and all that courage that you built flied out of the window. Until tonight that is. You were currently sitting in a quiet fort that Cato had built a bit further away from the others and invited you, because he needed to tell you something, your eyes wide, lips slightly parted, and eyebrows raised, trying to process what he had just told you. Cato had just informed you about his feelings and it made you feel giddy and excited, but also gave you this newfound confidence, right after he waved his hand in front of your face, as you had been silent for far too long for his liking after he just spilled his heart out to you.

Suddenly this new rush of confidence took over your body and before you knew what you were doing, you surged forward and pressed your lips against his, and this time it was Cato’s turn to be taken off guard and surprised. For a moment or two you just stayed like that, neither of you moving your lips, but just feeling them pressed one against the other, getting familiarised with their shape and soft feeling. Soon however, Cato started moving his lips, to which you followed suit, and the salty taste of todays lunch mixed together in your mouths, as Cato decided to lick your bottom lip, and then slightly nibble it after you didn’t get the hint, causing you to slightly gasp, and Cato took the opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth. You were filled with complete bliss as your tongues fought for dominance, that you just let yourself fall back, with Cato hovering over you, his hand on the middle of your back guiding you into the pillows he had placed for you guys to lay on. Neither one of you expected this turn of events, and you figured you would just talk and fall asleep there, but both of you were slightly worried about tomorrow, so you decided in that moment that you were gonna fall victimes to your feelings and enjoy your time together.

As the two of you continued kissing, you felt like your hands had a mind of their own as they glided up and down Cato’s toned back muscles and his arms, one of your hands finding their way to the short hairs on the back of his neck, as you let your fingers tangle with them and even lightly tug on them, earing a low groan from Cato, which you happily swallowed. But soon it was your turn to express your pleasure, as you felt his warm hand get in contact with your cold skin, as he slipped his hand under your shirt, soothing your waist, before reaching up and cupping one of your breasts. You moaned just as your lips parted, damn lungs and their need for air. “Even though we are far enough away from the others, we’re gonna need to manage our volume baby, you never know who might be lurking, okay?“ Cato said as he looked deep into your eyes, his hand still on your breast, squeezing it after getting confirmation from you through a nod, causing you to gasp, and Cato to go right back to attacking your lips with his own.

You felt his manhood harden against your leg as you went on, kissing and removing the top halves of your clothes. As soon as he reached around to your back to unhook your bra, you felt your nipples instantly harden as the cold air hit them, but what got you more worked up was Cato blowing on them slightly, before taking one of them in his mouth, while his fingers pinched the other. Your back arched off the pillows, and you felt your wetness pool in your core, with each flick of his tongue on your nipple. Cato sucked in a sharp beath as your hand found its way to his clothed dick, and you began to palm him, causing him to groan lowly as he attached his lips to your neck, and sucked on that sweet spot that had you seeing stars, making sure to leave a big, purple mark. After he was satisfied with his work, he kissed the spot he had been sucking on and looked at your hooded eyes, with his own getting darker and filled with even more lust.

He wanted to see your face as his hand reached into your pants, and started rubbing circles around your clit, causing a moan slightly louder than you had intended to escape your lips. Cato quickly muffled it with his own lips, whispering into your ear that you needed to be a bit more quiet, but still continuing his assault on your core with his fingers. You bit your lip, and you could tell he could feel how wet you were and how aroused he was making you, just as you were making him (in his own words, you were driving him crazy). Without warning, his hand slipped into your panties and you threw your head back at the pleasure his fingers were giving you. “C-Cato, ple-ease...“ You wanted to say more, but your words got stuck in your throat when two of his fingers entered your pussy. You grabbed his wrist with both hands, and bucked your hips to meet his thrusting fingers, as Cato watched your face contorting in pleasure, your moans being music to his ears, and thinking in a moment how did he get so lucky to have you feeling the same way about him as he did about you.

But hearing your cracked voice begging him for something (he knew exactly what) his fingers stopped and he removed his hand from your pants, causing you to whine from the lack of contact. Cato smirked as he licked his fingers, tasing your juices, that melted over his tongue like honey, before placing his fingers into your mouth, allowing you to taste the mix of yourself and his spit. His smirk grew into a grin as you began to fumble with the opening on his pants, desperate to feel him inside you. He allowed you to push him on his back and climb on top of him, and after removing his pants and boxers, letting his erection spring free, you got rid of your own bottoms, throwing them both to the side, and began tracing a line from Cato’s lips, down his chest and stomach, all the way to his manhood, finally getting to have your ears blessed with his breathless moans and groans as you took his manhood in your hands and licked a long stripe from his balls to the leaking tip, keeping eye contact with him, seeing his eyes flitter closed at the sensation.

You waste no time taking him into your mouth, earning you a gutteral moan from Cato, to which you hummed, satisfied that he was now the one to have to manage his volume, and the vibrations your hum caused around his dick make him place one of his hands on his mouth at to try to supress, even a little bit, announcing to the rest of the people getting ready for the Games tomorrow the pure bliss that you were making him feel, while his other hand found it’s way to get tangled into your hair, not really forcing your head to move, just resting there, only slightly tugging on your hair when a wave of pleasure was higher than the previous ones, which he would only learn to both enjoy and regret, because that earned him you taking him into your mouth completely, so much that he could feel the back of your throat, along with the vibrations of your moan, and he could have sworn he was about to cum in seconds. When he felt truly close, he tugged on your hair a bit harder, and you got the hint, taking him out of your mouth, and the sight of your flushed cheeks, and a string of spit still connecting your plump lips to his dick was a beautiful sight to him.

He beckoned you to come towards him, and he could taste himself as you kissed him, just like how he had made you taste your juices of his fingers. “How about you ride daddy now, hmm baby, what do you say?“ His low voice had shivers running down your spine, and you actually couldn’t wait to feel him inside you, so you positioned yourself and without any warning, you slammed hard on his dick, and it had both of you practically choking out moans from the back of your throats, getting used to now being connected into one before you started moving your hips up and down, Cato raising his pelvis to match whatever rythm you were leading him in, and despite starting off slow, soon you were placing your hands on his chest, your pace getting quicker and each time you would sink deeper onto him as your thrusts would meet in the middle. You were both no longer that concerned with managing the volume of your voice, as you didn’t really care if someone heard you, pure extasy flowing through you with each thrust.

Wanting to tease him, you clenched your inner walls around his dick a few times, even past him telling you that if you continue doing that, he would cum sooner than he wants to. After you did it again, Cato had had enough, quickly rolling both of you over, as you squealed, and ordering you to get on your knees. You did so, even though you prefered watching his muscled torso and arms, shining with sweat, but the mix of pleasure, letting Cato take the lead, and the chance of you getting caught by someone in your heated session, it made it all so much more fun for you. Your eyes almost rolled to the back of your head as Cato accompanied his dick entering your pussy with his hand slapping your ass, and the tingling sensation that followed was only adding to the pleasure, which he knew, and so he added a few more slaps as he fucked you fast and hard, going balls deep inside you with every thrust, and ever plea you made for him to slow down a bit were falling on deaf ears. “I can’t hear you baby. Are you saying to go faster? Sure I can do that.“

He almost had you screaming with the pleasure he was giving you and as you felt the tingles in your lower stomach, you knew it was only a matter of time before you came undone. As soon as Cato received verbal confirmation that you were close to your orgasm, his hand reached around and found your clit, rubbing it fast, and this time your were truly seeing stars as your body began to shake, and convulse, and you came on Cato’s dick, harder than you had ever cum before. It was gonna take you several minutes to recover from that, you were sure of it. And the sound of your moan as you came, accompanied by your pussy walls clenching around him, Cato knew he was close too. He pulled out of your pussy, you already missing the contact, and came on your ass, and then collapsed next to you, after using a napkin to clean both of you. He gathered you in his arms and used a blanked he had brought to cover your naked bodies, and you both waited until your breating settled down.

You both felt amazing and you knew this was not gonna be the last time you would have sex with Cato, something in your gut convincing you of it, especially after he offered you a round two as you both came down. At first it had you giggling, thinking there was no way to top what you had just experienced, but seeing the tent his dick made in the blanket, you knew he wasn’t joking and that you were not yet done with each other. That blissful night before the Games had you both cumming multiple times, each one stronger than the previous one, and before letting exaustion take over you and your eyes flutter closed, taking you off to the realm of sleep, both of you agreed to stick together no matter what and find a way to survive together, despite all odds, and prove that you were stronger together. You had found each other in this world of madness and you were not gonna take that for granted, Cato was yours, you were his and no matter what, you were sure that he will have your back just as much as you’ll have his.

---***---

I hope the two anons that requested this think I did their request justice and I hope you all enjoy reading it. I’ll try my best to write more often, but since it’s exam season and I’m trying to graduate this year, most of my time is focused on studying :) I’m literally half asleep as I finish this fic, so I hope you guys don’t find any issue with it, and if you do, please let me know through messaging me something like “This part of your fic was a bit much” or something like that, for some reason I’m worried you guys are not gonna like it, but here it is, tomorow I’m going back into my inbox to find some new requests, but for now, I need sleep badly :)

#cato hunger games #cato imagine #cato x reader #cato hunger games imagine #cato #Hunger Games #hunger games imagine #cato smut #smut #Peeta Mellark #peeta mellark imagine #peeta mellark x reader #gale hawthorne #gale hawthrone imagine #gale hawthrone x reader

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bringingglory · 3 years

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@eerna oh my god acshdgagaahhdvsahsv I never expected you to see my post, so I won't lie, I feel like super embarrassed acsgsga

anyway! not gonna lie, this wip has been sitting in my drafts for months now because I wanted to see if I could plan stuff but then I got stuck because Details are hard to figure out BUT I did write out a few scenes, so I'll put them below the cut because they're kind of long. the first one is the "opening" of the fic and the second one is a sort of reimagining of the Silent Princess memory. i have a few other scenes sort of scribbled out, but these are the most "polished" of the stuff i've written alsdkfjasdfk

the opening lol

Link wakes to a faint buzzing in his ear that sends little darts of pain shooting through his skull. He waits for it to end, and when it doesn’t he groans and rolls over, smacking the space around him to find whatever was making that noise and make it shut up. He can’t fathom why his brain is rolling through his skull like that and why there’s an intense pressure behind his eyes, but when he rolls onto his side, he has to press a hand to his abdomen to settle whatever was sloshing around inside his stomach.

Ah. He’s hungover.

Link peels open his eyes and the light sends a fresh wave of pain ricocheting through his skull. He blinks once, twice, and then forces his eyes open to find a phone the size vibrating against the ground a few inches away from his hand.

Link groans and pushes himself up to a sitting position before grabbing the phone and dismissing the alarm. When the phone falls silent in his hands, he finally looks around and tries to assess the situation.

He’s sitting in a bathtub, the porcelain slightly damp from what he hopes is just water. His shirt smells vaguely of cheap vodka and he still can barely look at the sunlight streaming through the window without wincing.

A moment later, he realizes the phone in his hands isn’t his.

Link holds the phone up to his face and rubs the grogginess from his eyes. He swipes up on the screen, surprised that it isn’t protected by a password.

The phone is open on note in the notes app, and it reads:

link, if you’re reading this right now, im so sorry for leaving you in the tub like that!!! my dad’s supposed to come home from the office today and the document case i was telling you about is missing and he cant know i lost it. i know we just started getting along, and im so sorry to ask you this, but could you find the document case? impa’s in my contacts and she can help you. also you have permission to dig through my phone, just dont judge me if i have anything embarrassing on there. can you find the file by midnight? his flight leaves at 3 and i can stall him until then.

it’s 6:11 right now so i have to run before he gets back, but please hurry! i’ll be waiting for you

-zelda

Link blinks and turns the phone off.

Last night? What happened last night? Why can’t he remember anything?

Well, if his raging headache tells him anything, it’s that he had probably blacked out last night.

Link isn’t usually a drinker or a partier. He isn’t really one to go to big social events. So he’s really confused as to why he woke up passed out in a tub with zero memories.

And also, why Zelda left her phone with him.

a version of the Silent Princess memory but they're at a party and its modern

Zelda laughs. “I think I got a little too sober from the Yiga incident to enjoy the party now.”

Link isn’t sure if he’s supposed to laugh with her, but nods anyway. “Do you want to get some air?”

Zelda gives him an odd look, then sighs. “Yeah. Yes. That would be a good idea.”

Surprisingly, she grabs his forearm and leads him through all the bodies pressed against each other. He can feel the heat of her hand wrapping entirely around his arm like a hot glove, even above the heat of the late summer air and the heat from other people in close proximity.

Somehow, they make it to the other side of the house. Zelda pushes the back door open and pulls him past the other stragglers outside before they find a nice tree with a patch of grass that seems generally clear of alcohol and vomit.

Zelda releases his arm as soon as she finds the tree and she sits down, dropping her head against the trunk.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

Zelda waves her hand vaguely.

Link pauses. “Do you need water?”

“If you get me any more water, I’m probably gonna piss myself,” says Zelda. “Sit down.”

He sits down.

The crickets hum vaguely around them, mingling with the distant buzzing and thumping bass of the music from the party. But without people pressing in from all sides and an open field in front of them, it finally feels like he can take a full breath.

The silence settles over them like a blanket. It feels comfortable to him, but he isn’t sure if it’s supposed to be.

“Oh, Link, look.”

Link cranes his head to see Zelda twist around and point out a blue flower glowing vaguely in the dark. It was beautiful with blue petals so light they looked almost white, and a sky blue bleeding out from the center before fading out.

He wants to give her a questioning look, but she’s transfixed on the flower. He can see the smallest of smiles creeping up onto the corners of her mouth.

“It’s a Silent Princess,” she says. “It was my mom’s favorite flower.”

He can tell something important is happening, so he keeps his mouth shut.

“She said that we can’t grow them domestically yet, despite our best efforts.” Zelda breaks into a full smile and it’s radiant. “The Princess can only thrive out here. In the wild.”

They both turn to look back at the house as another loud WHOOP cuts through the air, followed by the sound of a can being crushed against a head.

“Nature is beautiful,” says Link.

Zelda swats him and he has to bite back a laugh.

She turns and runs a gentle finger along one of the petals before sighing and leaning back against the tree.

“Thank you,” she says suddenly. “For being there with the Yiga. And for being there the whole party.” He can hear her swallow. “I’m sorry for being a bitch.”

“You weren’t being a bitch,” says Link.

“I was, though.” Zelda inhales beside him. “I mean, just because I’m under a lot of stress from my dad doesn’t mean I’m allowed to take it out on other people. I was acting like a kid.”

“To be fair, your dad sounds like an asshole sometimes.”

Zelda snorts. “Yeah. He can be.” He turns his head to see her lean forward to fiddle with the grass. “But he’s got a lot on his plate. And it probably doesn’t help that his daughter doesn’t want anything to do with his ‘legacy.’”

“Just because your dad’s under a lot of pressure doesn’t mean he’s allowed to be an asshole,” Link points out.

Zelda finally looks up at him and offers him a small grin. “Fair enough.”

“And besides, you’re your own person. You don’t need to follow in his footsteps.”

“That’s what I said,” huffs Zelda. “But of course it’s, ‘blah blah you have a responsibility. I didn’t raise you like this so you could waste your time researching pointless things.’” She sighs. “It’s fine. It’s whatever. I came to this stupid party to blow off steam, I guess. But Goddess, I did not eat enough today to drink that many cans of shitty beer.”

Link sits upright, alert. “Do you need to get food or—”

“No, no, that’s fine.” And that smile returns and Link wonders what else he can say to make it stay. “You’re sweet. But I’ve probably gotten drunk enough tonight.” Her eyes slide up to him and the mischief in them stops his heart for a moment. “You still have to try the Hot Frog.”

Link blinked. “...what is that?”

the endings are abrupt on both of them just bc i wasn't entirely sure how to end them akldjfasd. also the "Hot Frog" is gonna be some kind of mixed drink that gets link really drunk -- me trying to allude more to the original memory from the game haha

anyway, thank you so much for the ask! and thank u for coming up with the shitpost because it made me laugh the first time i read it hasdklfj hopefully i'll continue this one day and do ur shitpost au justice!

#lmao i just realized i titled the fic 'the lelda of zelda: breath of the weath' bc of a meme i saw at the time of making the google doc #also this is completely unimportant but im normally a past tense kind of gal #so it was a bit of an experiment writing in present tense for this #i might end up switching to past tense again later anyway aksjdfhasd #anyway thank you again for the ask <3 #eerna #asks

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sunsetcurve · 3 years

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learn to love without consuming (1/4)

fandom: knight squad relationships: arc / ciara, minor or one-sided arc / oc and ciara / oc word count: 4,603

a/n: eek. it's finally here. if you follow me here you know that i've been working on this for a few weeks (months?), but the idea has been sitting in my drafts for basically forever. almost since i watched the show to begin with. the recent resurgence of the ks fandom prompted me to dig this back up and gave me the motivation to actually try and finish, because fuck it! i love my babes and i want more of them.

so quick note is that this picks up pretty soon after the season 1 finale but disregards basically,,, everything that happens in s2. s1 and the finale proceed the same way except prudy never finds out ciara's secret, so she and warwick don't know at the moment. this chapter was initially gonna have more scenes that drove the plot/romance arc but once i got upwards of 6k with a few major scenes left i decided it would be best if i split the chapter up, so for now it’s just a lot of me trying to work around the convoluted knight squad lore to establish my own. i know that's not exactly what everyone is here for, but i promise things on the romance/action front will pick up soon. i'll place warnings as detailed as i can get without spoiling in the tags and notes as i go, but just anticipate fairly significant violence by chapter 3.

anyway! i have talked enough. the title is from thus always to tyrants by the oh hellos, the rating is t for swearing/violence, there are three more chapters that are in the process of being written, and reviews are like crack as far as i'm concerned. i really hope you like this! thanks for reading <3

dedications: this fic is first and foremost for @ciara-knightly, who is not only my amazing beta but also the whole reason this fic exists. she helped me so so much with the development of the plot and worked through it with me even way before i decided to really start writing it, and i wouldn’t have been able to do this without her. all of the notes she left after beta-reading were so so helpful and really made this whole fic make sense so basically i owe her my entire life. she inspires me to be a better writer all the time and i love her. everyone say thank you shona!!! also tagging my lovely friends and some people who have expressed interest, who are in no way obligated to read this; @juliesdahlias @mistyskiesrambles @dr-rigatoni @willexs @taylorswiftrulestheworld @onplanetmars @neshatriumphs @zackmartin @julies-molinas @soni-dragon @yagorlemmalyn @hopefulbeautifulfool @cactus-con @waterisntreal @onetwothreefarkle @bitchmilsky

summary: “Now that Ryker isn’t a threat anymore, the councils are supposed to resume as planned, and Astoria is set to hold the first one two weeks from now.”

“Okay,” he says slowly. “That sounds exciting.”

Ciara nods. “It is! I finally get to meet some of the other nobility, and actually get to be involved in Astorian politics for once. But my dad won’t let me go without an escort,” she says, and then hesitates. “Which is where you come in.”

read it on ao3

The morning before training that day, Arc is testing his skills against a heavy bronze padlock when Ciara enters the squad room and drops a brown paper bag on the table in front of him.

“These,” she announces as he raises an eyebrow at her, “are for you.”

He pulls open the package and is instantly greeted with a rush of warmth and the smell of vanilla. “Dragon puffs?” he says, half in awe. It’s a clear bribe, but he can’t help but shove a sugar-coated sweet in his mouth anyway. They’re an Astorian original and possibly the best thing he’s ever tasted; he’d tried them once at a bakery near the castle and hasn’t stopped thinking about them since.

“Okay, what do you want?” he says then, words muffled around the cream and pastry.

Ciara pulls a face at his manners, but still manages to blink innocently at him. “Can’t I just do something nice for a friend?” she tries, but it’s half-hearted.

He swallows and grins at her. “Nice try, Princess. Your dessert deliveries always come with an ulterior motive.”

Huffing a sigh, she sits down next to him. There’s this subtle air of anticipation lingering around her, one he can only sense based on how in tune they are after so long of being teammates. The two of them have this easy way of reading each other now; they’ve been spending more and more time together, something having shifted in their dynamic after the battle against Ryker. He can’t quite place what it is, but he knows it’s only brought them closer. “Do you know what the Council of the Five Kingdoms is?” she asks finally.

He shrugs. “Sure. Nobles from each kingdom used to have a big ball every year to talk trading and politics and other boring stuff…”

“Except there hasn’t been a council since Ryker’s invasion, because the kingdoms have been isolated and preoccupied with their own safety,” she finishes for him. Her fingers tug at the lacing of her leather gauntlets; she’s nervous, but he still isn’t sure why. “Now that Ryker isn’t a threat anymore, the councils are supposed to resume as planned, and Astoria is set to hold the first one two weeks from now.”

“Okay,” he says slowly. “That sounds exciting.”

Arc chokes on his second dragon puff. “You want me to be your escort,” he says flatly, once he’s finished coughing, “to the Council of the Five Kingdoms?” Normally he’d jump at the chance to spend a night dressing up and eating castle food. But the council is a decidedly different scene; there’s a set of formalities, politics underlying everything, and too many chances for him to expose his lack of knowledge when it comes to Astorian customs. Not to mention that Catalias’ royals will be there. He doesn’t know if he can stomach looking them in the face, knowing what they did to Seagate.

Ciara grimaces. “Look, I know it’s not exactly your thing, but my dad won’t let me go alone. And this really means a lot to me.” Her eyes are pleading, and Arc feels his resolve chipping away.

“Can’t one of your actual guards go with you?” he tries. “Or, Prudy or Warwick or someone?”

“I’ve already talked to my dad about it,” she explains. “You’re the only Knight School student he’d let protect me, because you already proved you could when Ryker invaded. Besides, if something were to happen…you’re the one person who knows I can handle myself as Ciara.”

There’s this brief stretch of silence where Arc works his bottom lip, and Ciara looks as though she’s debating something. “Also,” she adds finally, with the soft flicker of a hesitant smile, “I thought it might be fun to go with you.”

Arc blinks at her, caught off guard by the admission. There’s this sudden buzz in his chest that he can’t push away; in truth, he doesn’t like the idea of her spending the night with someone else either. Maybe, by some miracle, this will actually be a good thing. “Alright,” he relents. “I’ll be your escort.”

Ciara’s face breaks into a grin. “Yes! Thank you!” She throws her arms around him, and he’s shock-stilled, a rush of warmth flooding through him as he hugs her back. When she pulls away, her eyes are shining with excitement. “Okay, I’ve gotta go tell my dad you said yes, and there’s a million things to do, but I’ll see you at training later. You are the best.”

“I expect dragon puffs for life!” Arc calls after her as she disappears through her passageway. He leans back into the couch, lightheaded, and in that moment, he realizes abruptly that there’s almost nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

And he is so completely screwed.

Two weeks later, Arc is standing outside Ciara’s bedroom, waiting for her to finish getting ready.

It feels odd to be out here in the open. Generally his visits to her chamber are accompanied by an air of secrecy, but tonight, he’s a guest in the castle. He’s dressed like it, too, decked out in the guards’ typical formal wear: pressed brown pants, a white shirt laced up the front, and a navy leather jacket trimmed in gold, with Astoria’s crest on one shoulder. He looks kind of dashing, honestly.

Despite the confidence boost his new look offers him, his hand keeps drifting to the hilt of his sword. It’s sheer force of habit; he only associates this brewing sense of apprehension with battle, and his muscles are responding in kind. He’s glad, at least, that he turned down the other guards’ offer to lend him one of their ceremonial blades and instead has the familiarity of his own. Hopefully he won’t need it, but it’s a steadying presence all the same.

“Almost ready!” Ciara calls from inside, and Arc carefully unclenches his fingers from around the leather grip of his sword. He has to keep it together tonight; she’s made it clear how much this means to her. The last thing he wants to do is embarrass her in front of nobles from all five kingdoms.

Well, four, he reminds himself. Seagate won’t be attending. There isn’t anyone left to represent them.

The thought makes his stomach twist.

He’s saved from having to dwell on it by the sound of Ciara’s door unlatching. “Better prepare yourself, Princess,” he teases, leaning against the wall, “I look pretty good, and the last thing we want is for you to get too smitten—”

He breaks off as she emerges from the doorway, all the air in his lungs leaving in a sudden rush. He’s trying hard not to be the cliche of a guy scraping his jaw off the floor at the sight of a pretty girl in a dress, especially not like this, with Ciara—but he can’t help but think that it’s ridiculously unfair of her to come out looking like that. Her dress is a pale blue, falling gently off her shoulders and cinching at her waist, and her tight curls are weaved with strands of gold and tied into a low knot, some of them falling loose to frame her face. There’s a crown of gold leaves and rosebuds settled in her hair.

“You...um…” Arc searches for his voice, “you look amazing.” His mouth feels dry.

Ciara smirks and reaches up to adjust the collar of his uniform. “You don’t look so bad yourself. I’m definitely smitten,” she jokes, like it’s nothing for them to be flirting openly. It should be nothing. Except his skin burns where her fingers brush against his neck, and he suddenly wonders if she can hear his heart pounding.

He clears his throat. “We should probably get to the ballroom.”

She nods. “Give me your arm,” she says, looking at him expectantly. When he raises an eyebrow, she continues, “You’re my escort, remember?”

“Oh, right.” He lifts his arm obligingly, his cheeks warm.

“I really wish we’d had more time to go over Astorian customs,” she breathes as she takes it, more to herself than anything. “Between training and helping with preparations, I’ve been so busy…” His nerves must show on his face, then, because she squeezes his arm gently and amends, “Sorry. You’ll be fine, don’t worry. Just stay close to me, okay?”

“Not a problem,” he grins without missing a beat, and Ciara scoffs and shoves him, the smile tugging at her mouth taking all the bite away from it.

They can do this, he thinks. The two of them have kept up appearances for each other for months now, have fought and trained and battled Ryker together. They’re Arc and Ciara, unstoppable duo. One little party should be nothing.

As they make their way down the hall towards the ballroom, flanked by guards, Ciara lowers her voice. “When we get there, most of the nobles should be inside already. The herald will announce my father first, then us, and then each of the other three kingdoms. We’ll be beside the thrones as they come in—you’ll stand by me, left side—and once they’ve all been announced, we can leave the thrones and mingle. Bow to each of the rulers as they come by.”

They had, at least, practiced his bow. Arc swallows back the dread in his throat; all he has to do is stand beside her and greet the other royals, it’s easy enough. For a moment, they linger outside the entrance to the ballroom, until an official-sounding voice announces the King. “We’re next,” Ciara whispers to him, eyes glinting with excitement. “You ready?”

He nods back at her, and the voice calls, “Accompanied by Sir Arc...Princess Angelica of Astoria!” They step into the ballroom, greeted with applause. Arc doesn’t think he’s ever been in a place this lavish; the walls are white, accented in deep gold, and the floors are polished to a gleam. The ceiling looks hand-painted, ornately decorated in constellations and swirling designs, and crystal chandeliers dangle over their heads, casting a golden glow over the whole room. He tries not to look too awe-struck.

They make their way to the platform on which the thrones rest, Ciara nodding and smiling and waving at the other nobles as they pass. She stands next to her father, and Arc takes his place on her other side, placing his hands behind his back and trying, for all the world, to look like he belongs there. He wonders suddenly if he’s stood too close to her, and if it would make things worse for him to shift over now, and if his indecision is showing on his face—

And then, almost imperceptibly and hidden from the ballroom’s view by the folds of her dress, Ciara reaches over and links her pinky with his. It’s a tiny gesture, a friendly reassurance, but Arc feels a tide of warmth swell in his chest all the same. He lets his gaze flit to her for just a moment, and her lips are graced with a small smile as she tugs his finger gently.

His breath hitches, and he fights to keep his face a passive neutral as the herald announces the next kingdom and he turns his attention back to the doorway.

“Presenting King Hugo, Queen Luciana, and their son Prince Isaac of Catalias!”

Arc’s stomach turns as the couple enters, trailed by their son, all three of them swathed in lavish red and gold. Their reputation precedes them; he knows little about the prince, but the king and queen are infamous for their hoarding of wealth, their favorance of the rich nobles and landowners of their kingdom over the common people. Arc knows them best for what they had done to Seagate.

His hand twitches for his sword, but he fights against the instinct.

True to form, the two have a haughty look about them, all starched clothes and stiff smiles as they bow to Ciara and the King. The two of them return the greeting with Arc following their lead—grudgingly.

“I am so pleased you could join us tonight,” the King smiles, a little tight-lipped. “It is high time that Astoria and Catalias united again.”

King Hugo nods back. “I couldn’t agree more. The honor is ours.”

Arc detects a veiled sort of tension between the two of them, hidden well underneath the cordial formalities. He glances at Isaac, whose eyes are trained intently on Ciara even as he and his parents move to greet the other guests. Something about it is unsettling.

He’s so focused on Isaac that he almost misses the herald’s announcement of the next kingdom. “Queen Damyanti, and her children Princess Aadhya and Prince Kavan of Khurjan!”

Queen Damyanti is the picture of elegance, draped in silver silk that almost seems to glow against her dark skin. Aadhya looks around fifteen, with the same deep eyes and regal expression, and Kavan must be ten or so. He grins toothily as the three of them approach the thrones and bow.

The King’s expression is much warmer now. “Queen Damyanti. It has been too long. I trust Khurjan is doing well?”

“Not quite as well as Astoria, perhaps,” she replies, and it’s teasing, no sharpness to it. “This ball is absolutely lovely. Princess Angelica, you look so beautiful. Just like your mother. I was so sorry to hear of her passing.”

Ciara’s eyes go soft. “Thank you, Queen Damyanti,” she nods back. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you.”

“You as well. It’s a shame your sister couldn’t make it, but hopefully we’ll all gather again soon.” She gives a small, departing nod and joins the rest of the nobles, Aadhya giving them a bright-eyed smile and Kavan waving enthusiastically as they follow her. Ciara laughs.

“And finally...King Jesper of Vysalt!”

Arc is confused for a moment; he wonders if he had remembered the name of Vysalt’s king wrong. Then a young man with a head of dark curls and a smattering of freckles against tawny brown skin enters, his crown just slightly crooked. His eyes are wide and dark, and a jagged, white scar cuts across his cheekbone. He can’t be much older than they are.

“He’s the king?” Arc whispers to Ciara under his breath as Jesper makes his way over to them. “How old is he?”

Her expression twists a little in sympathy. “Seventeen. He wasn’t supposed to inherit the throne so soon. His parents were killed when Ryker’s army took over his kingdom.”

Arc isn’t sure what to say to that. He knows what it’s like to lose everything to Ryker—he can picture the flames every time he shuts his eyes. But he hadn’t known about Vysalt or the fate of its royals. They had been close allies with Seagate at one point, one of the only other kingdoms without much wealth, and their king and queen had been known for their generosity.

Somehow Arc had thought the damage had been done to Seagate alone, but now he wonders how the other kingdoms fared, if they suffered just as much. If any of them came out as unscathed as Astoria did.

“Your Majesties,” Jesper says as he bows, and there’s a note of pity in the King’s expression as he returns the gesture. Arc can only imagine how he feels about someone so close to his daughter’s age having to run a kingdom on his own.

“King Jesper. How are you doing?”

It’s a more personal question than he had asked the other royals, Arc notes. Jesper smiles easily; it’s soft, highlights his deep dimples and makes his dark eyes glimmer. “Well, thank you. Vysalt is recovering with time. As am I,” he adds, voice quieting for a moment.

The King nods back. “That’s good to hear. Let us know if there’s anything Astoria can do to help.”

Something flickers in Jesper’s expression, hard to read and gone so quickly that Arc wonders if he imagined it. The young king bows again before moving to join the others, but not before he catches Arc’s eye and smiles warmly. It surprises him—the other royals had hardly given him a second glance—but he returns it with one of his own. Beside him, Ciara lifts an eyebrow, her expression a mixture of amusement and something else he can’t place.

“What?” he asks quietly, and she shakes her head, glancing away.

“Nothing.”

He wants to pry, but the King is clearing his throat, getting ready to address the room. The chatter dies down as all eyes turn to him.

“My fellow Astorians,” he says in his deep, booming voice, sounding more formal than Arc has ever heard him, “and my guests from our neighboring kingdoms...I am honored to welcome you to our castle, and so pleased that we could all be in attendance tonight.”

Not all of us, Arc thinks, but no word of Seagate comes up.

The King continues, “For decades, our kingdoms have been isolated and divided by Ryker’s armies. We have long suffered under his forces, but his threat is gone for good. Thus, tonight is more than a council; it is a symbol of our victory, a symbol of our unity as we move forward and rebuild. So enjoy yourselves! After all, we have so much to celebrate!”

To Arc, the sentiment feels hollow. He got his revenge, and of course he’s glad that Ryker can’t hurt anyone else, but it doesn’t change the fact that Seagate is in ruins. It feels suddenly difficult to celebrate with the weight of his village’s absence lingering in the air around him. The rest of the partygoers don’t seem to share his hesitance, though; the room breaks into applause and cheers, several of the guests raising their goblets jovially.

Ciara gives him a subtle nudge, jolting him out of his thoughts. “Now we get to mingle,” she grins, leading him off the throne platform and towards the crowd.

He follows dutifully as she heads toward the table where the other kingdoms’ royals have gathered, Astoria’s king staying behind to greet the other royals. Queen Damyanti is in conversation with King Hugo and Queen Luciana, but she doesn’t seem entirely pleased about it, and Jesper and Kavan are laughing at something Aadhya has said. Isaac hovers next to them, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. He has his father’s golden hair and clear blue eyes, but the frown on his face is entirely his mother’s.

It disappears, though, the moment he sees Ciara approaching them. “Princess Angelica,” he greets her, with a little too much enthusiasm for Arc’s liking, “I’m so honored to finally meet you. You’re even more radiant in person.” Before she can say anything, he takes her hand and kisses it swiftly. Arc narrows his eyes.

Ciara gives a forced-sounding chuckle and curtseys, pulling her hand back. “Thank you, Prince Isaac. I’m glad you could make it. Allow me to introduce Sir Arc, my guard and escort for the night.”

Arc bows—and if he never has to bow to another pompous royal again, he thinks, it’ll be too soon—and Isaac offers him a dismissive sort of half-smile. Any further interaction they would’ve had then is thankfully avoided by the other royals noticing Ciara’s arrival.

“Hi, Princess Angelica!” Aadhya says brightly, with a neat little dip of a curtsey, “I’m Aadhya.” When Ciara and Arc begin to return the gesture, she waves her hand with a tiny scoff. “Oh, you don’t have to do that. Formalities. Just come sit.” She returns to her chair and pats the seat next to her, and Arc decides right there that he likes her.

Ciara takes the offered chair, and Arc takes the only other open spot, in between her and King Jesper. As Ciara launches into conversation with Aadhya, Jesper turns to him.

“Hi,” he says, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’m Jesper.”

Arc bites back a laugh at the unnecessary introduction. “I know who you are, Your Highness,” he replies lightly.

“I know. I was just trying to give you an opening to tell me who you are.”

Oh. That’s unexpected. There’s no prerogative behind his words, no assertion; Jesper’s grin is almost bashful, his voice easy and bright. He doesn’t sound like a king, just a seventeen-year-old boy trying to flirt. Arc can’t help but return his smile.

“I’m Arc,” he says. “Normally I’m a student at Knight School, but I’m the princess’s guard and escort for the night.”

“Wait,” Aadhya pauses her conversation with Ciara to lean over and look at him, “You’re the Arc who defeated Ryker?”

“I helped,” Arc says with a shrug, and the princess’s eyes go wide. She turns to Ciara.

“Were you there too?”

“I was—” Ciara pauses for a moment, “hiding. I was hiding. Arc got me to safety.”

He grins a little at her, tongue between his teeth, knowing it must be killing her to hide what she was actually doing. She narrows her eyes and kicks his leg under the table in response, a silent shut up. He lifts his eyebrows, like, I didn’t say anything, and she rolls her eyes in an entirely non-subtle manner.

Across the table, Queen Damyanti is watching their exchange with a raised eyebrow, Arc notices belatedly. She has a mildly amused look on her face, but doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, she states, “Battling Ryker face-to-face must have been quite the experience.”

“What was it like?” Prince Kavan asks eagerly from beside his sister.

Aadhya elbows him. “Kavan,” she hisses, but Arc just grins.

“No worries. It was…” he trails, trying to think of what to say and suddenly aware that all the royals’ eyes are on him. He shifts in his seat. “It was scary, obviously. He had the Armor of Astoria, and a whole army with him, and most of the Astorian knights under his spell. But, y’know. We Knight School students are pretty formidable. We all took him on together. Wouldn’t have been able to do it otherwise. I wasn’t half as scared as I would’ve been without my squadmates watching my back.”

He glances at Ciara, who smiles softly and nudges his foot, gentler this time. Jesper has that same unreadable look on his face and Aadhya has her chin propped in her hand, her expression amazed, but Queen Luciana gives a snide sort of scoff.

“It’s a wonder it took so long to defeat him, then, if a group of students cut him down so easily,” she says. “Perhaps Ryker was never as great a threat as we all made him out to be.”

There’s a cut of silence across the table in which Jesper visibly stiffens. “With all due respect, Queen Luciana, Ryker’s attacks were devastating. Or have you forgotten what happened to my parents?” he demands, without any respect at all. His eyes are blazing.

“I’m merely pointing out that the only real damage done was to the less...fortified kingdoms,” she sniffs. “Ryker only breached Catalias’s walls once, and he was driven out rather quickly.”

“Well, not every kingdom has Catalias’s resources.” Ciara sounds like she’s choosing her words carefully, frustration masked well behind them.

King Hugo gives a huff of a laugh; his blue eyes are cold. “My dear princess, you have no cause for indignation. Astoria lost the least to Ryker, what with your,” he waves a hand, “magic bubble.”

Ciara opens her mouth but falters, brow furrowed, and across the table, Queen Damyanti speaks up. “Nevertheless, Ryker was still a formidable enemy to all of us. We were only prepared for his attacks because he targeted Seagate and Vysalt first. And Seagate’s destruction is a clear example of his power.”

“Oh, even you can’t argue that Seagate was rotting long before Ryker got to it, Damyanti,” Hugo replies swiftly, and Arc’s breath catches in his throat. Queen Damyanti shrugs in agreement, her expression passive; Arc almost stands up, but Ciara’s hand on his leg underneath the table stops him.

“Don’t,” she hisses, just barely loud enough for him to hear, “Let me handle this.”

Though as it turns out, she doesn’t have to. Before she has a chance to speak, Jesper is already bristling, his voice sharp: “As if Seagate’s corruption justifies the destruction of its people?”

“It’s thieves and criminals, you mean?” Isaac scoffs. “Seagate was a wasteland. The kingdoms are better off.”

The words ring in Arc’s ears, alongside the pounding of his blood. They sound painfully similar to what Ryker had said to him on the mountain—rats and thieves, I did the five kingdoms a favor—and he thinks fleetingly that he’s going to be sick. He’s always known that Seagate was looked down on by the other kingdoms, but hearing them say so casually that what happened, the flames and the destruction and all of the death, was deserved—

“The people were only thieves and criminals because Catalias took advantage of them,” Jesper argues. “I hope I don’t have to remind you that it was your government that poured money into the gangs of Seagate for their own profit and allowed them to stage a coup in the first place.”

The words are deadly and cold, but Arc feels a flash of admiration for Jesper; the king has no obligations towards Seagate, and yet defends it like his own. King Hugo’s gaze hardens. “You’re blaming Catalias for Seagate’s problems?” he says with a derisive laugh. “If anything, Ryker’s attacks only revealed that Seagate was a kingdom full of people that weren’t worth saving.”

“That’s enough,” Ciara says abruptly. Her hand tightens on Arc’s leg, and he can no longer tell if he’s the one trembling or if she is. There’s this burning fire behind her eyes; she looks, Arc thinks briefly, the same way she does in battle. “What happened to Seagate was a devastating tragedy, and I won’t let you treat it as otherwise. Those who disagree aren’t welcome here.”

It’s a weighted statement, one she doesn’t entirely have the formal authority to make, but no one dares to contest it. A heavy silence settles over all of them. Arc doesn’t know how long he can sit there with all the heat under his skin; he doesn’t remember when his hand found the hilt of his sword, only that he’s gripping it tight enough that the leather bites into his palm. He wants to stand up and tell them that none of them would be here if it weren’t for him, a thief from Seagate. In truth, the only thing holding him back is Ciara. In a battle between her steady hand and the storm in his chest, she wins without even trying.

He doesn’t say anything or look at her, but her gaze flits to him for a moment and she just knows, standing up. Before she even opens her mouth, Isaac is on his feet too. “Going so soon?” he asks. “Would you care to dance, Princess?”

She looks at him coolly for a moment. “I would, actually.” And then, she turns to Arc, offering him her hand, “Sir Arc, dance with me?”

Arc blinks up at her and takes it as he stands. “Absolutely, Princess,” he says, letting her lead him away from the table and glancing back only long enough to catch the dumbfounded expression on Isaac’s face.

#oop #knight squad #knight squad fanfic #tiara thief #tiara thief fic #writing #my writing #fanfiction #arc #ciara #ks #//umanawrites #learn to love without consuming

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everybodyscupoftea · 4 years

Text

fbgm (fuck bitches get money)

pike jj x reader (plus: cody and tyler)

five times you text cody and tyler plus one time they text you

this is the origin story of you meeting cody and tyler + getting to know them, all taking place over the span of freshman year

(warnings: cursing)

One

You and JJ had been in the library for over 12 hours and were running on coffee and protein bars. He was laying on his back, laptop on his chest, asleep, and you were on your stomach, flipping through your highlighted notes to find the exact quote you wanted to use in your paper.

His stomach growled loudly and jolted him awake with a groan. Shoving his laptop to the side, JJ stretched before saying, “We need actual food. I can call some friends to bring us some Jimmy John’s if you’re down.”

“Fuck, that sounds fantastic right now.”

“Sweet. I’ll add you to our group message and you can send your order.”

Your body went cold for a second, “Wait, what? Why can’t I just type in your phone.”

“I need to look at the menu, just send them yourself.”

Mouth gaping for a few seconds, you protested, “I don’t know your friends. Isn’t that weird?”

“Nah, they’re cool dudes,” he reassured just as texts starting pouring onto your screen.

Maybank who the fuck is this number

Oh is it the hot girl from your English class. Right on dude

Dumbass she can fucking see this.

JJ we can just add whoever we want whenever now

Shut the fuck up and be nice, you’re the reason we don’t have any girl friends

Speak for yourself dickhead

JJ gave you an apologetic smile and said, “Well, at least you can order your food now.”

You sighed and typed your order out, thumb hesitating over the send button. Looking over at him, you asked, “Can you send something first, I feel weird.”

He gave you a look, “Dude, just send it.” So you did.

When the boys showed up thirty minutes later with the food, you could’ve kissed one of them from how hungry you were. The taller one dropped down next to you and held his fist up, “Nice to meet you officially, I’m Cody.”

You bumped it and the other guy handed you the food, “I’m Tyler, your savior, because Cody managed to misread your order, but I made sure they got it right.”

“Nice to meet you guys, thanks for the food.”

You thought they’d leave, but they stayed, fucking around on their phones for a while until JJ got up to leave. They all bid you goodbye and Cody winked, “Text me anytime.”

Two

JJ was driving the two of you to a basketball game and he swore under his breath. You looked up from your phone as he dug through his wallet. After a few seconds, the light turned green, and he told you, “Hey, text Cody and Tyler and tell them to bring me my Student ID please.”

“You text them,” you said, not really wanting to. You’d had the message on mute because they sent a lot, and you never had anything to add, so you left it alone. You didn’t really want to open it and see what they’d been talking about.

He gave you an exasperated look at the next red light, “I’m driving, plus you have their numbers.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know them.”

“And whose fault is that? That’s why were all going to hang out at the game.”

You sighed and sent it, not happily by any means.

Can someone grab JJ’s ID out of his booksack

Sure thing, tell him he owes me a milkshake for having to climb the fucking stairs

His phone lit up and he nodded, “See, not so bad was it?”

JJ told you Tyler was a huge basketball fan (specifically the Sixers), and he had Opinions on your school’s team. He bounced over to you when they parked next to JJ, “I hear you’re a basketball girl.”

“Something like that,” you huffed out a laugh.

“Look, neither of those chumps respect it, and I need you to know that we will be doing March Madness brackets this year.”

“Brackets are fun,” you agreed, “can’t wait to wipe the floor with you.”

“Oh, you’re looking to get beat, huh?”

“I never lose,” you told him confidently.

He smirked, “We’ll see about that one. I don’t know who you’ve been playing, but you’ve got competition this year.”

The game was fun. Normally you’d have sat next to JJ, but Tyler let you sit on the end and sat on the other side. He talked your ear off about player stats and made jokes about the other players which had you laughing hard enough to get JJ’s attention. JJ leaned around Tyler to ask, “You good over there?”

“Better than Notre Dame, that’s for damn sure.”

“Oh shit!” Tyler said, giving you a fist bump. JJ winked at you and you felt a lot better after the game, finally feeling like you could get to know at least one of those guys.

The next basketball game you went to was with Tyler. He wanted to go see the Duke versus UNC game, and the two of you got there early waiting in line with your student ID’s to get a bracelet and get in. Tyler was wearing a t-shirt with “In Zion We Trust” written across the chest, and he was Hyped.

“Take a picture with me so I can put it on twitter. I need Zion to follow me before he gets drafted.”

You agreed with a laugh and he handed his phone to the person standing behind y’all to take the picture. It came out nice. He smiled at it, “Sweet. Now I’ve got the pretty girl trap to get that athlete follow. You’re a great wingman.”

“Thanks,” you deadpanned.

He smiled, “Feels good to have a basketball friend. We’re going to have to drive to Charlotte when the Sixers come to town.”

Three

You slumped over on your bed and JJ looked over at you, “What’s wrong now?”

“I’m fucked. This stupid fucking theatre class. I didn’t buy the book and now I need it and I don’t know anyone in that class and I can’t afford it all in one sitting.”

JJ furrowed his eyebrows, “Wait, Intro to Theatre?”

“Yeah, do you have the book?” you asked hopefully.

He shook his head, “No, sorry, but isn’t Cody in your class?”

“What?”

“Yeah, if it’s Tuesday and Thursday at 9:30 Cody is in that class.”

You searched your memory, trying to remember seeing him at any point in the semester. He could’ve definitely set at the top and you wouldn’t know because you always sat about halfway up, not wanting to climb all those stairs to the top of the auditorium.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him there.”

JJ snorted, “Okay well I never said he actually went to class. Text him though, because I’m sure he’d be down split textbook costs and just share the e-book.”

“Can you do it?”

“You’re an adult. Plus, you’ve sent stuff in the group, I thought you were okay now?”

“I was drunk!”

“Text the group if you aren’t comfortable enough to text Cody separately. Your grade is more important than your strange aversion to texting my friends.”

You rolled your eyes, but he was right.

Cody are you in theatre 161 on Tuesday and Thursday morning?

Yeah ugh pls don’t bring it up

Did you get the textbook?

Okay I guess we’re bringing it up…no I did not

We have questions from the end of chapter 5 due online, do you wanna just split the book for the rest of the semester? Rent it online or something?

Wait we have homework in that class

JJ laughed loudly where he was reading the conversation next to you and you sighed, trying to not throw your phone across the room. You looked at JJ, “Your friends are idiots.”

“Careful, bud, you sound a little fond.”

We have homework every week and a quiz every other week…

Oh fuck, you think it’s too late for me to come back from this?

I think there’s a bonus essay for 30 points which might help some?

Let’s split the book.

Venmo me.

You rented the book and sent him a link before settling down to do your own homework, and you felt better about reaching out if you needed homework help again.

It didn’t really come up between the two of you again until he texted you one Wednesday afternoon out of the blue asking what night you were going to see Arcadia for class. You had a ticket for the Friday night showing, and after about 30 minutes, he texted you again that he’d cancelled his plans and gotten one too.

The two of you met for dinner and walked to the theater near the caf together. He was talkative, “I did some research on this play and I actually read the chapter on how to take notes on plays, so I have my tiny notebook and I’m ready.”

“I saw Arcadia with my sister a while back, so I kind of know what’s going on, and I can help if you need,” you said, holding your own tiny notebook.

“For sure. Might should get together to write our papers, that’s going to be what fucks me. If you don’t mind meeting tomorrow at 11, I’ll bring coffee and we’ll knock it out.”

“Sounds great.”

You weren’t sure how good of a theatre buddy Cody was going to be, but you clearly underestimated him. He laughed at the right time, turned his phone off and not just on silent, and didn’t even get up once besides during intermission.

Cody walked you back to your dorm at midnight, when it finally ended, and before you could get inside called out, “Text me your coffee order for tomorrow, I’ll run by Dunkin.”

Four

JJ said he might be at his dorm when you got there, but when you texted him to come let you up, you got no answer. After pacing a few minutes outside, you decided it was too cold for that shit, so you bit the bullet and texted in the group.

I’m supposed to meet JJ, can anyone let me in the dorm?

It didn’t take long for someone to get back to you. Tyler responded after a few seconds.

Fuck dude, are you outside? I’m coming down.

You were practically shivering when he shoved the door open, and he pulled you inside. The RA sitting at the desk didn’t even look up when the two of you passed and he shook his head, “Man, where the fuck is Maybank?”

“Not sure, was going to ask you the same question.”

Tyler swiped to unlock the door and you saw Cody coming out of the toilet area. He brightened, “Yo, long time no see. What are you doing here?”

“Supposed to be hanging out with JJ tonight,” you muttered, checking your phone again.

Cody shrugged, “Come watch Great British Baking Show with me and Tyler. We have popcorn.”

It was warm and you liked GBBS, so you nodded and kicked your shoes off to follow them into their room. JJ didn’t get back for another hour, and by the time he got there, the three of you had ordered pizzas, started another episode, and were laying on Cody’s bed which was closest to the TV.

JJ stood in the doorway, “What’s going on guys?”

“Where have you been?” Tyler asked, tone accusatory.

“I-“ JJ was caught off guard, “got some dinner with friends.”

“Good thing we ordered pizza then,” you laughed, not too upset that he’d forgotten. JJ had the tendency to do shit like that.

“Fuck,” JJ sighed, “I’m so sorry.”

“All good. Glad your roommates are ten times more clutch than you.”

JJ rolled his eyes as the other boys preened and held their fists out for you to bump.

Five

Changing a flat tire isn’t that hard. Changing a flat tire and realizing halfway through that you don’t have a spare is hard. You could’ve fucking cried looking at the empty compartment that the spare usually sat, and you almost did, but last minute pulled your phone out to text the boys.

Anyone free for the next like 45 minutes to an hour to take me to get a spare tire

Before you could send anything else.

Jk we’ll come get you

So, you decided to sit on the curb and wait. Tyler’s truck pulled up and you hopped up, grabbing your wallet and keys. Cody hopped out the other side, put the tire in the tailgate, and climbed in the back, leaving the front open for you.

Tyler cranked up the music as soon as you shut the door and tore out of the parking lot before you could even buckle up. You thought Cody was being nice letting you get the passenger seat, but you later found out he just wanted to sit behind Tyler because, “The driver always protects his side first.”

You held on to the door as he whipped into the AutoZone parking lot and got out of the car as fast as possible as soon as he parked. Cody was laughing as you sagged against the car, head spinning, and he clapped a hand down on your shoulder, “Bet you wish you’d have just taken an uber.”

“I wish JJ had answered my text.”

Cody and Tyler followed you into the store to ask someone to repair your tire. Tyler leaned against the counter next to you and Cody scrolled through something on his phone while you talked to the guy who clearly wasn’t taking you very seriously.

You huffed, getting Tyler’s attention, and he looked up from his hands, “What’s up?”

Before you could say anything, the man cut in, “I don’t think she knows what she wants.”

Tyler furrowed his eyebrows and nudged Cody before responding, “What do you mean?”

“She just needs to get a new tire.”

“We brought the tire, just look at it because she thinks it can be repaired,” Tyler defended, crossing his arms.

Cody moved to stand on the other side of you, “Why can’t you just look at it?”

“If you buy a new tire, we’ll send someone back to your car with you to put it on.”

“I can put it on myself,” you responded indignantly.

Tyler squeezed your shoulder, “I can’t change a tire, but she can. Show some respect and just give her what she’s asking for, man.”

The worker rolled his eyes but did as Tyler said, and your heart swelled a little bit with fondness at these two guys who you didn’t know all that well standing up for you. Throwing your arms over their shoulders, you squeezed them closer, “My heroes.”

Cody shrugged, “Now we know who to call if we need a tire changed.”

Plus One

You slept in one Saturday, finally happy to be through with a busy week, and when you woke up had over 50 texts from Cody and Tyler asking to come to their dorm to help them make a cake for JJ’s birthday. Cody was the last to text, so you responded to him.

Give me like ten mins to get dressed and I’ll come to your dorm.

Oh thank fuck you’re alive!

I wasn’t dead, I’m just tired.

Wake up sweetheart, busy day today

The boys had a recipe and the ingredients all spread out when you got there and the three of you took control of the dorm building’s kitchen on the first floor. Tyler pulled up some music and sat on the counter, content to watch you and Cody do the work.

It went relatively smoothly. Cody almost fucked it up by grabbing the salt instead of the sugar, and the tablespoon instead of the teaspoon, but you got it in the oven without too much extra struggle. Tyler made grabby hands at one of the spoons and you rolled your eyes but handed it to him anyway.

“Thanks, you’re the best. Better than Maybank,” Tyler told you before licking the spoon.

“I know I’m the best, but thanks for reminding me.”

Cody made a noise, “Oh, we’ve been discussing group chat names and we’ve narrowed it down to a few. It’s your pick.”

“Lay ‘em on me,” you told them, moving to sit on the cabinet next to Tyler.

“Fuck bitches get money, AutoZone annihilators, and Greek gods.”

“Oh my god, Greek gods? Think much of yourself, do you?” you asked between laughs.

Tyler rolled his eyes, “You know we mean because Greek life.”

“I know, but still. I like fuck bitches get money.”

Cody cheered, “Fuck yeah, my choice!” and changed the name immediately.

The timer went off and Cody reached down to pull the cake out. Tyler gathered up all the utensils and ingredients and followed Cody out of the kitchen. He cheered, “Come on bitches, let’s go wake up the princess!”

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #frat!jj #pike!jj #outer banks #outer banks fic #jj maybank fic

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snowdice · 4 years

Text

Logan’s 25 Step Plan to Ask a Boy Out (Relabeled; Refiled Series)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Patton

Characters: Logan, Patton, my self insert again, oops Lia(OC)

Summary:

“No! Logan look,” she said. “He likes you and you like him. You don’t need a list or a plan or schematics for this. Just walk up to him and ask him out before you hesitate so much that he thinks you don’t like him anymore.”

Logan’s eyes widened. “Is that something that can happen.”

“Oh god, this is hopeless.”

How is Logan so good at, but simultaneously so bad at this?

This is a one-shot dealing with events set before my story Sometimes Labels Fail set a few months after The Things We Never Mentioned.

Notes: Superhero AU (doesn’t matter for this one... again), Logan being dumb but it the sweetest way possible.

This was supposed to come out later this week, but the mini fic I was writing to release today ended up... not being a mini fic. So, I shuffled around my release plans a bit and you get this now!

It was almost 3am and Logan was still in his office. He really should just go home. There was no way he and Lia were going to be able to solve this problem tonight. Lia wasn’t even looking at the problem on the chalkboard anymore, instead she had pressed the chalk against the board longways and was turning it slowly to make a fan shape on the board.

Logan took a drink of his room temperature coffee. “We could try integrating it.”

“No.”

“You’re probably right.” Logan tilted his head back and closed his eyes pretending to be deep in thought, but really he just let his brain drift. “Lia,” he said.

“Hmm?”

“Can I ask your advice on something not related to math.”

“Fucking please do.”

“It’s about Patton.”

She didn’t even pause. “My advice is, ask him out.”

Logan paused and opened his eyes to look at her. “Er well… Yes.”

She suddenly looked more awake than she had in hours. “No really? Yes! It’s about time!”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Your enthusiasm about my romantic interests is absurd… but useful in this specific case.”

She sat up straight and folded her hands in her lap like a particularly interested school child during story time. “Please continue.”

“I have decided that I would like to pursue a romantic relationship with Patton, and I am currently researching the best strategy to convince him of my adequacy as a prospective partner.”

“Research?” Lia asked. “Oh god, please tell me you didn’t made a list.”

“I am simply inquiring after your advice concerning rather you believe Patton would be more inclined to understand love language in poetry or flowers.”

“Logan you don’t need to prove your ‘adequacy’ or whatever. Just ask him out.”

“Certainly,” Logan said. “Flowers or poetry.”

“Logan you’re not listening,” Lia complained.

“I assure you I am. I’m even taking notes.” He turned the paper around for her to see.

“‘Lia does not seem to have an opinion on flowers or poetry. Seems to suggest a bold approach,’ Logan you’ve got to be kidding me.”

He sat back and flipped back a few pages in the notebook. “I have interviewed many people on the topic but seeing as you have actually met Patton in person, I thought your perspective would be useful despite the certain ridicule that would come from the question.”

“Logan please, please tell me you didn’t make a list.”

Logan didn’t reply. He had. He had made a list. He’d done more than just make a list. He’d created a whole new file designation specifically for Patton and Patton related things. He now had a light blue binder which contained the list as well as the drafts and research notes on matching light blue paper as well as a picture Patton had doodled on a napkin to give to him. What else was he supposed to do?

Over the past couple of months, he’d done research in the form of interviews as well as non-fiction and fiction reading, drafted the list, done more research, and edited the list. It still wasn’t good enough. He was missing something. He knew he was missing something, but he couldn’t figure it out. He was hoping Lia would be more helpful.

Clearly, he was mistaken as she just groaned. “Logan…”

“Never mind.”

Logan’s eyes widened. “Is that something that can happen.”

“Oh god, this is hopeless.”

“I was unaware of the possibility of a time limit on this assignment.”

“That’s not. No. That’s not what I’m saying Logan. Please don’t freak out. This isn’t homework!”

“I’m not freaking out Lia,” he said calmly even though his mind was racing.

“Logan, I know that look,” Lia said, “that’s the Logan’s pretending he’s okay, but he’s actually about to go and break down in a closet look.”

Logan waved her off and gathered up his bag. “Thank you for your input; you have given me a lot to think about.”

“No, please stop thinking!”

“I must go.”

Logan had meant to finish editing his list the night before but had fallen asleep almost immediately after getting home from the office. He woke at around 10am with a sore neck. He looked at the list. He should switch task 7 and 8 he decided. He wrote out one more copy of the list with the edit and then stared at the list again. There were 25 list items the last one being to ask Patton on a date. It wasn’t perfect, but… perhaps it was good enough. He bit his lip. Some of the tasks would take more effort, but luckily Logan had already started working on preparations for the third step which was to express interests in things the subject found important. The first two steps were to express a desire to spend time with the subject and demonstrate an ability to notice the subject’s likes and dislikes. With the preparation he had done, he was certain he could get through the first three steps today.

Decided, he jumped to his feet. Patton often came to ‘The Hideout’ at around 11:30am for lunch on these days. If he moved fast, he might be able to catch him before-hand and ask him if he’d like to have lunch with him.

…

He should go take a shower and brush his teeth first.

After cleaning himself up and picking out one of his nicer casual outfits, he headed to the hospital. He wasn’t sure where to go, so he just headed to the admission area for the hospital emergency room. “Hello,” Logan said to the receptionist. “I was wondering if Patton Sanders has left for lunch yet.” The man behind the counter blinked at him. “He’s a surgeon here.”

“I know who he is,” he replied slowly. “I’ll um, go get someone to check.”

Logan nodded and stepped away from the counter. The receptionist walked away and then returned after a moment.

A few minutes later, Patton walked up to the reception desk from the other side looking rather confused. He spoke briefly to the receptionist who gestured to him. Patton turned, lighting up a bit when his eyes fell on him, though he still looked a bit confused. “Logan,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

Logan stepped back up to the reception desk. “I was wondering if you would like to have lunch. I know you usually go to ‘The Hideout’ and we end up eating together anyway, but you don’t always, and I wanted to intentionally make plans with you. It doesn’t have to be at ‘The Hideout’ either. Of course, only if you aren’t busy and you want to.”

“I do,” Patton said. “I do want to, uh, but,” he glanced behind himself back into the ER. “We’ve been pretty busy, and I don’t think I’ll be able to take a long enough lunch to go out. I was just going to grab a sandwich in the cafeteria.”

“That’s fine,” Logan said. “We can make plans for another day.”

Patton bit his lip. “You can join me in the cafeteria if you want,” he offered. “I’ll um, only have 15 minutes though and the food isn’t great.”

“15 minutes is fine,” Logan replied.

He smiled brightly at that. “Give me five minutes,” he requested.

“Of course,” Logan said. “I’ll just sit over there.” Patton dashed off. It was closer to 10 minutes, but Logan didn’t mind even when the receptionist kept giving him looks he couldn’t understand or when a few nurses stopped by to peer at him curiously from over the counter.

Patton was still wearing the doctor’s coat when he came back to the waiting room area. He smiled when he saw Logan and grabbed his arm to guide him to the elevator. The cafeteria was on the top floor of the hospital. Patton warned him off of getting the spaghetti and he ended up with a grilled cheese sandwich and soup while Patton just purchased a premade cold cut sandwich from one of the refrigerators.

The cafeteria was crowded at this time of day, but Patton directed him to a more secluded part of it. His eyes kept flashing at the clock, but he still smiled at Logan.

“It bought you a brownie,” Logan said pushing it at him. “I’m not sure of its quality compared to the ones at “The Hideout,” but I know it is your favorite dessert so hopefully it suffices.

He took the saran wrapped dessert with an almost startled expression. “Thank you,” he said and then looked back up at Logan. “It’s good to see you. I-I’ve had a stressful morning and was sad I wouldn’t be able to go out for lunch today. Thanks for being willing to eat down here with me.”

“I’m glad I decided to come today then. Thanks, are not necessary. I enjoy talking with you no matter the environment.”

A bit of a blush bloomed on Patton’s cheeks and he cleared his throat. “What would you like to talk about then?” he asked.

“How about,” Logan began, “antibody diversity and histocompatibility systems.”

A strange look crossed Patton’s face. “Did... Logan did you look up my research papers?”

“I,” he didn’t know why he felt compelled to blush. “Yes, I did. You don’t have a background in mathematics or physics so I thought I would investigate your interests so we could have something to talk about. They were very well written.”

A pause. “You read my research papers.”

“Yes,” he said. “There was a lot of terminology I had to look up, but I believe I have enough of a working knowledge to hold a conversation.”

“You,” he stopped and looked at Logan with an intense but achingly tender expression that figuratively stole Logan’s breath. It lasted for a long moment and Logan felt trapped by his gaze in the best way possible. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

“Yes,” Logan replied breathlessly without even a thought. Patton gave him a dazzling smile and bit his lip, looking away slightly. Logan’s brain restarted once he wasn’t held captive by that strange look in Patton’s eye. Wait, wait, he’d had a plan! He’d just ruined the plan!

“So then,” Patton said somewhat bashful, “what would you want to do on the date.”

Logan scrambled to mentally scratch off 22 list items until he found the ideas he’d come up with for once he’d procured a date. It wasn’t an edited list yet, but at least it was something. He was glad he planned so far in advance. “Midtown park perhaps,” Logan suggested. “There is a small place that serves pasta and an ice cream shop nearby. We could have dinner and then walk through the park. You’ve mentioned that you enjoy ravioli and the restaurant I’m suggesting is well known for the dish according to three articles in two different newspapers in the last 18 months.”

Patton titled his head with a small smile. “You’ve put some thought into this haven’t you?” he asked.

“I…” Logan said, “tend to be a planner.”

Patton reached over to place his hand on Logan’s. “I’m glad,” he said. Logan turned his hand over so their fingers could lace together. They only had 7 minutes to eat once they remembered their food and it was quite bland, but Logan would surely never regret it.

Thanks for reading!

And with that, we are done with the prequel fics that had to come out before multi-chapter prequel! The fic Gaps in His Files will start releasing next week. It’s 14 chapters.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #logicality #sanders sides fic #relabeled; refiled #labeled universe #adriana writes

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wizardessheartprincess · 4 years

Text

Bold of u to assume i have a title in mind (prologue, part 1/?)

Pairing; bakugou katsuki x reader

A/N; new au: reader’s sending out surveys and somehow one respondent makes it into a competition; reader is not paid enough to deal with this. So many wild assumptions, even the economics major in me is reeling. Many corners were cut. I’m mostly sorry. only ooc in this household. shoutout to @lady-bakuhoe whose incredible existence was the impetus for me to write a fic for the first time in 2 years. will i continue this? who knows!

edit: part 2 is here (x)

Your eyes are drawn to the little black text box that pops up in the bottom right corner of your screen - a new email. The subject line - a reply to the email you haven’t even finished sending to all the recipients yet.

You click into the notification, expecting it to be one of the business students critiquing your survey design - but no, it’s… from the Hero Course. Funny, since they’re usually off training, and you have to nag most of them multiple times to answer emails, even with the giant “[ACTION REQUIRED]” tag in the subject line.

You sit up from where you’re lazily draped over the bed, kicking aside the blanket as you decide to act more professional when you’re technically still on the clock for work. You shuffle over to the desk, gently placing your laptop on top of it before you’re much less gentle with how you plop yourself into the chair.

The survey was an exercise for the Support Course - meant to develop your communication skills with the heroes you would one day aid in their work. That meant designing a survey that your heroic audience would actually take the time to answer accurately, while providing you with feedback on your designs.

Your specialty was in aerodynamics and chemistry - and the Hero Course student you most wanted to design for was Bakugou Katsuki. It was just your luck that he was also probably the worst “client” to work for… at least from what you’d heard from your classmates. Abrasive, picky, and downright destructive of his equipment - those were your classmates’ chief complaints about him. But while of course, you understood their annoyance at having to remake his costume every time he ran off into a new scuffle, part of you was attracted to the qualities that others seemed to hate. He was aggressive, and harsh on his support items, yes, but he demanded the best out of his own performance, too. It went both ways. Personally, you appreciated that he knew exactly what he needed, and you’d be happy to try to deliver-

It absolutely sucked, having two desires conflicting like this - one, to dive headfirst into your inventions, to create boundlessly, to really make an impact on the world through the users of your gifts - but the other, to simply create without having to interact with others. You envied people like Hatsume, who seemed to have endless energy to pour into marketing, to not just make, but also share. You?

You had an equal ratio of 3D print files and trashed concept art, and a 100:0 ratio of ideas to actually publicized ideas.

Sure, you’d tossed some small inventions into the metaphorical ring before, to some praise and interest from major support companies, but you’d always been too damn shy to really push anything to come out of those initial sparks of interest.

You opened the email, drafting the survey you were originally planning to send out to Todoroki. He could wait.

Above the answers - quite thoughtfully composed, actually - was a note.

“Is this the fastest reply you’ve gotten?”

I quietly snort. Seriously? Not everything has to be a competition. But based on the way he acted in the Sports Festival (and everywhere else, let’s be honest)… you’re not entirely surprised.

You pause, curiously skimming his answers, slowing down every now and then so you can reciprocate his thoughts with your own, already brimming with fresh concepts to incorporate into existing designs.

And... as much as you’d like to spiral into sketches and notes on how to buffer the shock wave effect of his large explosions on his own body, more complex biologic drug compounds to prevent any pulmonary issues from his quirk, and the possibility of adding an automatic shock wave source to his hero costume that would provide destructive interference with any aftershocks of his explosions that might put too much pressure on his body -

First.

You check the reply time - he replied nineteen minutes after you sent the initial email.

You hit the reply button.

“Dear Bakugou -

Thank you for the prompt and thorough response! Unfortunately, Midoriya responded to the last survey in eighteen minutes - just a minute before you.

- Y/N”

You hit send, and navigate promptly to the drafted email you were working on just before this one. While you could just mass email everyone, you’ve found that personalizing the emails generally gets better response and completion rates. Still, you’ve barely typed out Todoroki’s name before another notification pops up -

“Did I beat it yet?” is the entire contents of the email.

You can’t help but smile a little - and you almost just reply with a short “Yes : )” and leave it at that, but…

This opportunity doesn’t come every day. You look at the clock - technically, you could stop now if you wanted. Even on school nights, you’re encouraged to generally stop working before it gets too late, to refresh your mind periodically. Still…

You open your files, navigating to the folder you have for Bakugou. While you have a folder for pretty much every student in the Hero Course, you’ve spent much more time designing possibilities for Bakugou’s costume, the potential of a better aerodynamic and versatile all-around tool for him to use in battle.

- Not that you’ve ever really shown these designs to anyone, let alone the person they were customized for.

But…

Screw it.

You attach a couple of files to your reply email.

“You beat the record.”

You make no written mention of the files - hopefully, he’ll see them anyway, because you have no idea how to introduce them out of the blue. Honestly, he’s probably too busy to study them too in-depth, and it’s just as well if he doesn’t notice the attachments, anyway. Maybe they’re not that useful after all.

You hit send again.

It’s hours later when your phone lights up and dings with another notification - you sit up groggily in bed, trying to reach for it while cursing that you forgot to turn your notifications off overnight - when you see it’s another reply from Bakugou. Instantly, you’re awake, as if the man himself had come into your room and directed an explosion into your face.

Did he see your designs?

You scramble to tap on the email in your inbox, accidentally clicking into a reply from Kirishima that you instantly close out of, before you stop, and it’s as if the night has its own inertia in the still silence.

“Can I talk to you about these tomorrow?”

Your throat goes dry - you swing your legs out of bed, and toddle to your desk again, turning on the room lights on your way. Flipping up your laptop screen again, you open all the 3D print iteration files, the word documents of notes, the code and corresponding comments, the CAD models, from Bakugou’s folder - there’s no way you’ll be able to sleep tonight.

Then, finally, you respond.

“What time?”

#bakugou x reader #i did wayyyy too much research on anti explosion building engineering and aerodynamics of shock waves for this #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha fanfiction

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phonecallwithsatan · 4 years

Text

just look for my owl (three)

a.n. : I am in awe that there are TEN of you that follow me. I don’t even care if I get bullied for geeking out over ten followers. I’m so happy and glad you all enjoy what i’ve written. My lovelies, here is chapter three of this series. I think its getting interesting but im too scared to add mature stuff in here because i dont know how you all will react. Look at me, speaking to my ten followers. It’s a press conference at this point. Chap. four is soon to follow tonight so please keep out for that! This fic is a they/them reader, so I will only refer to you as they/them. 3k words, fred weasley x y/n, enjoy!<3

Our beloved Fred Weasley falls for Ilvermorny student [y/n] [l/n]. He’s determined to get to them, but the only way he can is through post sent through the two. The only thing left for the pair is to just look for an owl.

Check out chapter two before you read this!

☾

It had been four days since that owl came in to deliver Fred Weasley’s Professor a parcel from [Y/n l/n].

It had been four days since Fred hadn’t stopped thinking about [y/n].

Luckily, no suspicions from his professor were brought up about the missing photo, and he was glad. The professor even came in during his quidditch practice to chat with the students cheerfully, even taking a few photos of the team as a whole and separately.

Today was the 31st of October, and the Triwizard champions were chosen shortly after Fred began to dig into his food, irritated at the interruption that faced him.

Or maybe he should say the Quartet champions now that Harry was facing the tournament too.

Dinner wrapped up a bit after that, and the two twins carried on to their dorms surprisingly silent the whole way. Not causing any ruckus or speaking even.

Perhaps it was because they were disappointed at the selection of Harry even though he was younger than the two twins. They could have had a chance now that he was chosen, but Fred knew that it wasn’t about that.

He didn't know about his twin at the moment, normally he does, but Fred was in a hurry to get to his dorm and sleep, as he had no homework.

Everyday for these past four days, Fred has dreamed about [y/n]. Dreaming, thinking, pondering, it was all connected to them. Not a particular storyline, not at all, his dreams were more of the idea of a real-life physical them.

[y/n] in his jumper, [y/n] in Hogwarts robes, their hand in his under the table during dinner at the great hall, how they would say his name in any context. His thoughts were severely occupied with them and Fred was okay with that.

These ideas followed their way through the portrait hole, into the Gryffindor common room, and up the stairs to the boys dorm.

He had yet to wash himself off after his long day, so Fred went off to the left side of the dorm to access his trunk at the end of his bed. He takes out a simple orange towel and closes the chest up. He then takes off his sweater vest only to place it on his bedspread.

Walking over to his bedside table, Fred decides to let [y/n] take a dip into his daydreams as he looks in his drawer for the photo of them.

No, thinks Fred. No, no, no, no, no, cascading words now fill Fred’s brain as he panics about the fact that his polaroid was missing.

The polaroid of [y/n] was now missing from Fred’s bedside table, confused as to how exactly he misplaced something so golden.

His whole dresser was obviously rummaged through. There were a few sickles missing along with an extra jar of ink and- his stash of Fizzing Whizzbees and Jelly Slugs. He genuinely frowned at the candy more than anything else, but then he remembered about the photo that was missing- stolen now.

Fred whipped his head back to see who was in the boys’ shared dorm, and the only person he saw was his twin chatting with a visiting fifth year student.

Now completely turned, Fred walks to the front of his bed and pulls out his trunk, wondering if he had left it in there by accident, but it was no luck.

“George,” started Fred with his back to his twin.

George turned to his brother.

“What is it, Fred?” He asked with confusion. He noticed the drawer hanging on by a thread off the rest of the table and decided to completely disregard his conversation at that point. “I’ll catch you later.”

As the friend walks out of the boys’ dormitories, Fred begins to explain what had happened, hand motions waving around. They usually appear when there is something wrong.

“Someone rummaged through my stuff,” Fred motions to his dresser, “did you let anyone else come in here and mistake it for yours?”

George looked at his twin with furrowed brows until his face lightened up a bit from the clarity.

“Yeah, actually. Cedric Diggory from Hufflepuff was in here and he asked me for some ink.”

“George, what the hell.” Fred was beyond confused as to what, first of all, Cedric Diggory, one of the Triwizard champions, was doing in the Gryffindor common room. Why he was needing ink in the middle of the day and why his drawer. “You let him go through it? Half of my items are missing.” Fred was furious at how irresponsible his brother was at the moment.

“He was desperate and I felt bad.” A simple response from a boy with little to no empathy when it came to using a twelve-year-old student as a lab rat for their inventions. A particular unnamed candy that is still a work in progress gave her severe diarrhea for weeks straight.

“George, he stole money, candy, and t- What is wrong with you?” He cut himself quick before he could expose [y/n] to his brother. He was mad at him and now was not the time to gush about them.

“It’s fine, we’ll talk to him tomorrow.” George laughs at his twin for being unmanageable, but Fred is unamused.

“Piss off.” Fred takes his towel and goes town to the bathrooms, bringing a change of clothes with him.

☾

Fred was a bit after hours for students, but he couldn't wait to get the bath located in the prefect's bathroom.

Yes, Fred had snuck in there, but that's because the boys’ dormitory bathroom was disgustingly filled with too many boys in one perimeter. So with this in mind, Fred knew exactly where to go to relax from the fuming that happened between himself and his brother.

Fred dropped his towel by the edge of the water and took off his shoes. Setting them neatly by the towel, he began to work on his shirt. He loosened his tie but not all the way so the loop in it would stay. He began to unbutton his shirt, hands working a bit slower than normal. He did not come here often, nor was he a prefect, so he took his time.

He looked up from his hands and Fred looked at the mermaid mural on the stained glass, thinking of [y/n], the beauty remarkable from either photo. Not that Fred was comparing physical features from the mermaid and from [y/n], he was rather just acknowledging how both were, to put it literally, breathtaking.

The colors from it shaded his body in colors of pinks and blues, diluting a bit now that the white shirt was shrugged off his body. The color was not as vibrant now, but his light skin and freckles that were splattered all over his chest created a new palette of shades.

He dropped his shirt on top of his other items and he undid his belt, leaving it on the belt loops of his pants as he takes them off as well, folding them up unlike his shirt and dropping them on his pile of clothes. All he had left were his boxers, and they were soon added to the tower of items on his right side.

He stepped into the water while simultaneously checking for any other visitors. It was a bit late for that, though, considering that he was completely exposed at that point.

The moonlight shone through the glass, some areas of the floor painted colors with the light. The water was flowing from a few taps and bubbles were flying everywhere. Fred shifted a bit from his old placement in the giant pool so his arms were now propped on the edge.

Now with the photo in the hands of a certain someone he considered a snake, even though they were in Hufflepuff, Fred needed to confront Cedric for not only his money, his candy, and his ink without consent, Fred needed to confront him about [y/n]. What kind of a freak just steals a photo?

Oh, thought Fred.

What if, somehow, Cedric gets a hold of [y/n]? Impossible, he reassured himself. Cedric doesn't even know their name. He knows nothing. He's a loathsome rat who steals money, candy, ink, and photos.

Smiling to himself for coming up with that description, Fred quickly goes down the same road again.

What if, somehow, [y/n] likes him, instead? What if- His mind was filled with ‘what-ifs’ and ‘somehows’ that clouded his brain. Cedric shouldn't have been running through his mind regardless. There’s just no possibility where [y/n] would even meet him.

He was consumed with someone who did not know he existed Fred was jealous that someone else was in possession of that photograph.

The only way to eliminate Cedric was to get to [y/n] first, and he knew his plan from the moment he saw their photo.

He was going to catch his professor at the owlery in the castle, and sneak his own letter in there. This way, both parcels would miraculously be carried over the Atlantic ocean.

His professor wouldn't notice and hopefully [y/n] wouldn't be too freaked out.

The tap finished spewing water and the room went silent except for a few drips coming from one of the spouts. Fred estimated his time and decided to waste none of it, so he dunked his head underwater out of impulse and came back up with his hair sticking to his forehead.

He needed to write.

☾

Fred was now back in his common room sitting on a couch with his parchment spread out over his legs and couch, and his wet hair slowly dripping on it, making the ink smear a bit. He had crumpled up at least five different drafts of a few sentences while sitting there.

He was wearing grey pants and a gryffindor jumper, keeping him warm on the first day of November. It was about one at night and he could hear his brother, Ron Weasley, snoring from the upstairs dorms.

He dug up a few polaroids he had taken with his brother at the beginning of the year to drop in the parcel. Fred had decided to make this out to his mother, Molly Weasley, hence the photos would have been for her. Molly wanted photos taken with their new camera and photos of their new brooms for Quidditch being put to use properlly.

Normally, Fred didn't really use muggle instruments, but he did have a shared camera with his twin, George. Luckily, a shop in Hogsmeade sold refills for it.

And they would have, Fred and George ended up taking photos of themselves during Quidditch practice, making sure to hide the camera from teachers and spectators so it wouldn't be taken away. Snape would make it his life goal to snatch it away from them when really it did no harm. They took photos of their jerseys, the field, a few separates, a few with the team, and two separate ones of the twins. They were planning to give them to their mum, but these photos would be put to use differently.

It was a brilliant plan in his eyes. [y/n] would surely respond to his so-called mistake, right? Hopefully they would send a letter back, and maybe a few polaroids for himself to keep. It’s brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.

Fred began his sixth attempt at writing out a letter to his own [y/n].

Mum,

We miss the burrow. And you and dad, of course.

As promised, the photos. We think you’ll really enjoy these, since you probably miss our ravishing looks.

There’s not much to write about, mum. Ginny is okay, Ron is alright, and George is asleep somewhere right now. Otherwise, they would have scribbled something on here.

Fred

It was too short but he couldn’t think of anything else to write to his mum. She had written to Ginny a few days prior so he had given all viable information to Ginny’s response letter.

He reacted quickly to the water that dripped off his hair and snatched the parchment before it could bleed and combine with the ink. The script was perfect, absolutely incomparable to his other drafts.

Time moved fast and it was now two in the morning. Fred took his parchment and placed it neatly in the parcel. He took his stack of polaroids and placed them in the parcel.

Almost forgetting, Fred searched through the polaroids and found the two individual snapshots of the twins in their uniforms. Molly constantly mixed the two up when they wore their quidditch uniforms, always forgetting who was #5 and who was #6. Their own mother. It severely got worse every year.

From totally forgetting to absolutely forgetting, Fred forgot that this letter wasn’t even going to reach his mother. He had already marked up the photos though, that was just an afterthought.

He looked at the photo of himself and his twin standing in front of the center field, astonished as to how clear it was. He could see his features perfectly unlike the photo he previously had of [y/n] that was blurry but nonetheless readable.

Shoving the photos back into the parcel, he wrapped it up nicely and carefully wrote the address of the burrow on it.

His plan was slowly coming into action, and Fred was just excited to see it play out.

☾

Fred had ended up spilling everything to his twin the day he planned to sneak his letter along with McGonagall’s.

“So you have no clue who [y/n] is, and you’re providing photos of you and your friends to this person, might I add again, who you don’t know? Fred, this is ridiculous.” George was talking to his twin in the corridor right before the owlery as they were both waiting for the professor to return with a response letter. Fred had been holding onto the parcel for a few days now, and yesterday, he saw that familiar brown owl arrive again.

McGonagall greeted the owl mid-class and took the letter in hand to place it safely in her desk. The owl remained on the window perch for the rest of class.

Fred wasn’t able to see who sent it, but he knew that owl all too well to be mistaken for someone else owling his Professor.

Just as Fred was about to respond to his brothers snarky question, they heard footsteps down the hall and they began to walk up to the owlery.

They had decided to distract McGonagall with a familiar owl, Hedwig. Harry had been complaining how she had been squawking too much for normal. Harry wouldn’t mind, though, because he never had to know that his owl was involved in a hopelessly romantic ploy.

Fred and George were now in the owlery next to Hedwig, feeding her snacks they had brought for compensation. It was only fair to her that she got something in response. A few strange squawks escaped her beak.

“Good morning Mr. and Mr. Weasley. Are you writing someone?” McGonagall was an expert at knowing who was who just off the back of their heads. Granted, she could probably tell the two apart without them turning around.

“Just paying a visit to Hedwig here, professor. We need to get going soon.” George glanced at Hedwig mid-sentence and gave the professor a small smile.

Their plan was failing terribly. McGonagall was getting her owl ready for the journey by winding the ribbon around its leg to hold the letter more in place.

Normally, Fred and George would just place a note in Errol's beak, but since it was a longer distance they would have to find a way to tie it around the owls leg.

Luckily, Hedwig served as an amazing distraction as she began to choke and squawk on the snacks they were giving her. It was a time of crisis but the twins had to act fast.

McGonagall turned to the twins and quickly discarded her owl to help them. She pushed them aside and began to aid the choking owl, George began to laugh a at the visual of an owl choking, but quickly put it away as he got a scolding look from McGonagall, who was now shaking the owl.

Fred used this distraction to run over and tie his letter to the owls leg, attaching his and his professors letter to the owl. The animal began to flap its wings, confused as to why an unknown ginger was picking at his feet, but Fred was too busy to yell at it.

By attaching his letter to McGonagall’s owl, Fred didn't need to get authorization from someone to send it. He also did not have to get it searched, as he was sneaking it through.

He turned to see George motioning him to hurry, laughing at the same time because his professor was still talking to the bird, trying to get it to stop choking.

Fred was able to tie the letters successfully and shooed the owl quickly, noticing how the two letters weighed it him down a little, making Fred laugh too. He didn’y understand how he pulled it off, but he was happy it worked- somewhat. The owl was steadily flapping it’s wings but Fred could see that it wasn’t used to that type of weight on its feet.

He speed walked back to his professor who was oblivious as to what happened behind her back. The twins were wrong for laughing at the McGonagall who wanted to just help them deal with the animal cruelty they put on Hegwig, but it was a visual they would never forget. And truly, it was a little funny and dramatic.

Fred wondered again how the hell his absurd plan worked, but he was glad that he was able to send out the parcel, and avoid murdering his friends owl with food.

“There, girl. You’re alright. You spit out.” McGonagall consoled the owl by patting her head. She turned to the twins and scolded them for being so irresponsible with someone else's owl.

“Potter doesn’t know, does he?” She asked.

The two twins looked at eachother and ran off laughing, leaving McGonagall clueless to everything that just happened.

Soon after that, Fred realized that he had just created the beginning of something new in his life. Something that he had yet to receive not in person, but rather in a form of a letter.

All he had left to do was look for that Brown owl.

#fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley x gender neutral reader #fred weasley series #hogwarts #harry potter fanfic #goblet of fire #goblet of fire fred weasley

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duchessfics · 5 years

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An Afternoon of Trickery

(https://julianemilian0.tumblr.com/post/178711567301/sarah-paulsons-characters-on-american-horror)

(https://kylos.tumblr.com/post/179092578061)

Ally x Fem!Reader x Cordelia

Warning(s): None!

Summary: Oz picked a couple pumpkins to carve, but you deal with some tricks as you help out with carving them.

Word Count: 1504

A/n: I haven’t written for these three in a while, but I missed it! Hopefully I stayed true to their characters (I feel like I’m a little rusty with their dynamics). But here is some fluff for your weekend. I know I posted a headcanon this week already, but I had this drafted to publish this week so I figured I would post it. I hope you enjoy!

Sentence Prompt from @lillie-writes (Here is the link to the original post)

17. “It’s just unfair to carve your pumpkin on both sides! It’s cheating!” “It’s creativity, you should try it.”

After staying up far too late finishing the latest season of your favorite TV show, you snuck into bed where Cordelia and Ally peacefully slept. You thought you would be fine with enough coffee to make it through the day. However, by mid-afternoon you can hardly keep your eyes open. So, you sneak off to Cordelia’s office and lay down in her personal loveseat, your favorite spot to take a nap. Luckily, she isn’t in there to chastise you about staying up too late, so you curl up in your oversized hoodie and fall asleep.

However, you wake up to someone shaking you and saying your name—Oz. “Wake up, sleepyhead!” He says in a far too loud and cheerful tone. You let out a groan of protest, but he persists. “Wake up! Mom and Miss Cordelia got some pumpkins!” By now you manage to crack your eyes open and you see both of your girlfriends in the background smirking. “Are you awake?” Oz asks, making you look to his face that is inches from yours. While you are normally down for anything with Oz, your sleepy self is not happy at being awakened.

He doesn’t wait for you to answer, satisfied at seeing your eyes open. But you rub your eyes, trying to gain your senses and ask through a long yawn, “What were you saying?” Oz lets out an exasperated sigh and scolds, “I was saying we got some pumpkins to carve tonight. So, you need to come down to the greenhouse with us.” Your eyes start to get heavy again and you reply, “Mm-hm.” Before pulling the drawstrings on your hoodie to cover your eyes and turning away, already feeling sleep take over again.

Oz says your name and shakes you with his hands, but you stay curled up. Luckily, he stops and walks away, and you begin to fall asleep once more. However, you cry out as someone tickles your ribs and doesn’t stop. As your turn back, instead of seeing Oz you see Ally is the one who initiated this ambush, her eyes with a mischievous glint. She keeps moving her hands up and down your sides making you giggle and squirm. “Ah! I’m awake! I’m awake!” You cry out. But Ally just chuckles and says, “You say that, but we need to make sure you really are, honey.” Your eyes begin to well up with tears from laughing so hard and your other girlfriend comes up to look over you. You say her name, calling for mercy, but she just smiles and says, “You think she’s going now, but if you hit this spot just right,” Then she reaches down to poke just under your armpit making you cry out. “There she is.” Cordelia murmurs with a grin as tears now spill out of your eyes.

Finally, they stop their movements and let you catch your breath. “So…pumpkins.” Ally teases as Oz laughs in the background. You sit up, taking your hood off before saying, “Fine.” Then Oz leads the three of you down to the greenhouse. Once there, Ally lifts and places two pumpkins on one of the worktables. Then Cordelia takes a knife and cuts out a small hole on the top of both pumpkins to get to the inside. She sets the knife aside along with the tops that will be used later before asking, “Do you want to remove the insides, Oz?” He walks over, not much taller than the seated pumpkins and tentatively reaches his hand in one of the holes. But as soon as he touches the slimy insides, he whips his hand back and says, “Ew, no. That’s ok.” You chuckle at his reaction, but that dies in your throat as the supreme looks to you and curls her finger, gesturing for you to come over.

Without asking she hands you a spoon to scoop out the insides. You take it with a sigh and roll up your sleeves while Cordelia brushes her hair back into a ponytail. She doesn’t fix her hair in an updo often, but you like it when she does especially how a couple loose hairs frame her face just right. You begin to dig in, grimacing at the slippery texture, but Cordelia pauses and murmurs, “Ally, darling?” The senator blushes as she looks to Cordelia and asks, “Yes?” The blonde smiles and says, “Could you bring out a container for us to put these insides in? I think I’ll roast the seeds for an autumnal snack. It would be a shame for them to go to waste.” Ally says yes and brings out a massive bowl, placing it between you and Cordelia. But before she can walk away, Cordelia thanks her and gives her a peck on the lips. Then you both begin your work.

While you and Cordelia dig out the pumpkins’ contents, Oz and Ally talk about what should be on the pumpkins. As he talks about different faces and draws sketches you say, “You could make it a pumpkin carving competition.” His face lights up at the idea and he says, “Yeah! I’ll draw the designs and be the judge after you three carve them out.” Both Ally and Cordelia agree, so he sets out a plan.

By the time you’re finished scraping everything out, you are worked up to a sweat and feel the muscles in your arm ache. Meanwhile Cordelia doesn’t seem bothered by the activity at all. In that moment you resent her special powers as the supreme. But you can never be mad at her for too long. Fortunately, you get a break as Oz draws on the designs he wants on them.

Once he finishes, you smirk at your girlfriends, seeing you got an easy, basic jack-o-lantern design. Oz announces that you may begin so you take a knife and begin to carve out your design. You thought this would be easy, but making sure the knife cuts accurately is trickier than it looks. But you manage and let out a sigh of relief when you are halfway done. However out of the corner of your eye you see Ally and Cordelia doing something absurd. They pause their movements and Ally looks to you before asking, “Do you need something, sweetheart?” It’s only then that you realized your jaw dropped in shock. But you recover enough to say, “It’s just unfair to carve your pumpkin on both sides! It’s cheating!” They both chuckle at your accusation and Cordelia teases, “It’s creativity.” Then Ally adds, “You should try it.” Your eyes narrow at their remarks, but you get back to cutting as you say, “Oh, it is on.” And you begin to finish carving the best pumpkin there will ever be.

Upon finishing you are a sweaty mess with pieces of pumpkin in your hair from running your fingers through it. But you feel satisfied as Oz grins and at seeing your creation, saying, “This looks awesome!” You wipe your forehead with the back of your arm before replying, “I’m glad you like it, kid.” And he declares all three of you winners. Then he carries one pumpkin out to the front porch while Ally carries the other. Meanwhile Cordelia takes the bowl containing the pumpkin seeds to the kitchen. You begin to clean up the mess made on the worktable and floor around it. However, you nearly jump out of your skin as someone hugs you from behind.

The short hair indicates that Ally is the one behind you and as she chuckles against your neck you know it’s her. “Did I scare you, honey?” she murmurs in your ear. You twist your neck a little to look at her before replying, “Not as much as your tickling ambush earlier.” At that Ally giggles and cups your face before murmuring, “Awe, poor thing.” But her eyes look unusually devious compared to her usual serious expression. Then her hand snakes down to your side and she gives you a poke making you whine.

“Oh, are you tired, sweet girl?” the supreme asks. Ally releases her hold so you can turn around to look at them both. Then you chuckle and shake your head as you say, “You two are full of tricks today.” They both grin and Cordelia steps closer before cupping your cheek, soothing, “We’ve been a little trickier than usual with you today. But after Oz goes to bed, we’ll give you a special treat.” After hearing that you perk up and say, “Treat?” Ally chuckles and tucks a loose piece of your hair behind your ear as she purrs, “How about a nice bath to help you unwind? And maybe something more?” Your cheeks warm and you squeak, “That would be nice.” Making them both laugh.

But before anymore can be said, Oz re-enters, talking about his game plan for trick or treating. So, they let you go and you have to hold back a whimper. But you do, looking forward to whatever treat they have planned.

Tagged: @marilynroselleprentiss, @saviorinsilk, @chokemepaulson, @versonstar, @lush-les-lady, @cordwliagoode, @psychobitchtess

Let me know if you would like to be tagged in later works!

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james-stark-the-writer · 4 years

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AYATO and OWAD UPDATE

I know I’ve been silent for a while but I’ve been working on the next chapter and planning the next six chapters out!! We’re moving ahead swiftly in the investigation and things are starting to go back to usual (well,,,, soap opera usual is never usual but you know what I mean) with the kids! My expected WC for the chapter is around 8K and I already have 5K written and only three more POVs left to finish the chapter! So! There will be a Joe pov later tonight (or tomorrow morning at the latest because I have a history assignment due tonight as well) where you find out things about his life and his mom! I’m just editing it right now but it should be up soon! And since I have a few more POVs written as well, I'll be putting them up too soon! And my last exam for the semester is on Wednesday so after that I will have all the time in the world to finish this book! Hopefully I'll at least be halfway done with the first draft! Which reminds me!! The first draft crossed 95K last night!!! Its been a long ass journey and I'm glad you've stuck around!!

And there's other new too! I'm almost done with the first half of the third chapter of OWAD (I had to scrap the original because it was accidentally a little too racially charged but this one's coming along... Relatively well! It might be done in a week or so! And you'll finally get to meet Faye, Ralph's introduction to the whole world along with some vampires hopefully!! Its going to be super fun!

AYATO taglist: @inexorableblob @hell-yeah-fantasy @lilac-written @aurumni-writes @vviciously @the-real-rg @three-seas-writes @cawolters @writersloth @emilymustwrite @westviews @ashestoashesdusttodust @alessia-writes @mariahwritesstuff @noahanthonyart @rcvolutions @noxcomic @death-over-coffee @vannahhere @ohlooksheswriting @your-art-is-gay @grimmwrites @leo-november @vhum @mendeled @adventurebeneaththewords @shamelesslypoetic @bettsican

OWAD Taglist: @milovelylife531 @probablynothumanish @alicethething @the-children-of-the-stars @theswordofpens @scintillations-of-the-scribblers @thallencambricaltran @sunny-smiles-and-teary-eyes @jaywrites101 @morriganwrites-0124 @madness-malkavian @rcvolutions @moody-bluesss @ohlooksheswriting @madammuffins

#writeblr #writblr #original writing #writing #wip #ayato #a year at the opera #update #Just an update #owad #Of Witches And Demons

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she-who-the-river-could-not-hold · 5 years

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Author Tags

tagged by the forever lovely @thelittlefanpire!! thank you!

Fandoms You Write for: For The 100 and Stranger Things! Balancing the two is really tricky sometimes for me and I definitely will sway in which one is more inspiring to me at a time. But I like that they feel different so I can create different stories depending on what feels right.

Where you post: Only AO3! You can find my profile here if you haven’t checked it out. HOWEVER. If you want some quality, old-school fanfiction from years and years ago, I still have access to my fanfiction.net profile. Plenty of self-insert OCs, wild Harry Potter storylines. It’s great and cringey and I love myself for all of it.

Most popular one shot: “dance away your fear of love” – my Bellarke, Gilmore Girls AU!!! This fic flowed so well for me, it’s one of the fastest one I’ve ever written. It turned out even better than I could have hoped and I love it so much. I also made a moodboard for it here! It’s probably the softest thing I’ve ever written tbh.

Most popular Multi-Chapter: “I Heard You” – my first Stranger Things, Mileven fic!! So absurdly fluffy. It’s a college AU that turned into a multi-chapter after such a crazy response to the first chapter. It’s really far from how I write now but I have a soft spot for it! It’s original moodboard can be found here.

Favorite story you wrote: alkdsfjskld IMPOSSIBLE to choose one

“Stardust, In You and In Me” – Bellarke Soulmate AU

“Scream Without a Sound” – Bellarke, BTVS!AU

“The Silence in Between” – Mileven, Fantasy!AU

“Zombies, Stalkers, and Zoomers, Oh My” – Lumax, Zombie!AU

“What Happens at Summer Camp (Hopefully Doesn’t Just Stay There)” – Lumax, Fake Dating AU

Story you were nervous to post: All of them???? Jk haha idk I haven’t felt anything too much beyond normal nerves for any of them. I think if I were to ever try writing smut I would be beyond nervous to post it since I have no idea if I’m good or bad at it hahaha.

How do you choose your titles: Usually song lyrics, occasionally a phrase or a pun. I hate titles like ugh fuck them. It’s difficult enough to write the damn fic.

Do you outline: Sort of! I usually will write out the bit that’s initially inspired me, and then I’ll do a rough outline structuring the story or figuring out what the rest of it is. And then I go from there! I want to get better at planning ahead though.

Complete number of stories: 32 complete!! To be fair most of them are one shots asklfjdsl.

In progress: 2 discontinued fics, 3 WIP on AO3, and then 5 drafts that I haven’t finished/posted yet.

Do you accept prompts: I used to! I didn’t really stop but people also stopped sending them haha. But I wouldn’t ever promise to fill them anymore like I used to because I’ve been pretty burned out in general. I’m not opposed to ideas though and sometimes they help jumpstart a fic so my inbox is always open! Just no more guarantees.

Upcoming Story you are most excited about: WELL the one I’m most excited about, and the one that has the least done, is a Bellarke, slow burn, cosmic horror AU. I only have the first chapter planned and I’m probably way in over my head but I really want to push myself with it. I’m also digging a fake dating AU that I’m hoping to post tonight. And then a marriage before love, royalty AU that I’ve started to work on. I’m SORRY i’m a type 7 in the enneagram test I’ll literally never just pick one thing.

Tagging: @raven-reyes-of-sunshine, @the-most-beautiful-broom, @eyessharpweaponshot, @maplestreet, @summer-in-hawkins, @dustinhendrsn, @talistheintrovert, and @el-borealis!

#get to know me #kathryn writes

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mittensmorgul · 5 years

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How long from start to finish does it typically take you to finish a story? I have a friend who spends a lot of time thinking about and mentally planning her stories, so that by the time she actually sits down to write it, she can finish it in just a couple of days. I'm more of a "i have a basic idea and i'll figure it out as i write" person. So it usually takes me longer to finish one.

It depends. I mean, obviously the length of the story has something to do with it. I’ve written like a 3k one shot in a day or less, but longer stories take longer. I once wrote a 105k word novel in 15 days (this... was the outlier). It took me about 2 months to write the draft of my dcbb, which was about 59k. I’ve been working on a fic for nearly 2 months and it’s stalled out at about 12k, because Real Life has gotten in the way of writing. (hopefully I’ll get back to it tonight, because the Real Life situation is now in a holding pattern, at least temporarily)

I finish a thing, give myself a few days to recover from the thing, and then start writing the next thing. I don’t spend much time planning, aside from already knowing the whole story before I start writing. I know that doesn’t make sense to people outside my brain, but that’s what’s going on up there. I can see the whole story playing out like a movie in my mind, and I just... write it down. That’s the process. I used to assume that’s how it worked for everyone, but some people need to sit down and actively plot out every detail, and some people need to slowly figure out details as they write. Everyone’s different! And that’s fantastic! But it also makes 99% of writing advice... terrible. :P

Basically, it’s a process of figuring out what works for YOU. Understanding how YOU write best, and then perfecting that process. Writing advice is all great, but if I’d bought into the “write a detailed outline! Plot out your story carefully in advance!” advice, I’d never have written ANYTHING, because my brain just doesn’t work that way.

I’m just looking over my last few things I posted, and It’s Lily Dale took about two weeks (it’s 15k), Eleven took a couple hours (3k), It’s Destiny took less than a week (7k), and Worst Case Scenario took about a month (30k). So it varies. But it also depends on if Life is getting in the way, if I’ve been sick or exhausted or just too mentally overwhelmed, you know? It happens sometimes. Other times I just get on a roll and can’t be stopped. :’D

I TRY to write 1k on the nights that I do write (I try to make it every night but New Supernatural Episode Nights, but I always take at least one night off a week, because everyone needs a mental break). I don’t always hit it. The last few nights I’ve written, I didn’t get much past a few hundred words each time, but it’s still something. And then some nights I’ll look up and realize I’ve typed 3k already. So it just depends. Some scenes are easier to write than others, too. And sometimes my current mental state just doesn’t fit right with what I’m currently working on, and I’ll do just about anything to avoid writing.

And look at me right now, writing this instead of fic. :’D

Basically? It depends.

#writing is hard #the hardest thing is figuring out which writing advice suits you personally #Anonymous

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lifesizehysteria · 5 years

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Deleted Scene: Lena & Mariana (from Cancelled)

A/N: One of a collection of scenes that were deleted or rewritten from various fics during editing that I liked too much to discard. These scenes have not been edited beyond when I originally wrote them, except for one final edit for major grammar/spelling errors. They are not final drafts but instead are snapshots of my writing process. A bit of context will be given at the beginning of each scene in order for it to make sense, including the name of the fic it was originally written for.

[Context: Cut from Cancelled (ch. 17 of The Fosters Musings) when I decided I wanted Stef to threaten the kids to leave the house instead of them all deciding to avoid being home for the night. However, I particularly enjoyed this interaction between Lena and Mariana - one of my favorite parent/child relationships - and wasn’t willing to just delete it.]

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When she got home, the house was quiet. There were no backpacks or shoes by the front door, no tv or music playing, no bickering. The quiet was unsettling. Lena set down her keys and purse before heading to the kitchen. She scanned the room for signs of teenagers but there was no food laying around. Only Stef’s coffee mug from that morning was by the sink. The cash for the pizza was sitting on the table where she’d left it before going to work that morning. Just as she pulled out her phone to send inquiring texts to her kids, Mariana traipsed around the corner, head bowed and her fingers flying across her phone.

“Oh!” She stopped in her tracks, her eyes wide as she almost ran into Lena. “Hi, Mama.”

“Hey.” Lena set her phone down on the table, no longer needing it. Mariana was always a reliable source. “Where is everyone?”

Mariana pushed her phone into her back pocket. “Brandon went to Mike’s. Callie took Jude with her to spend the night with Sophia, and Jesús is crashing with someone from the wrestling team.” She ticked each one off on a finger as she spoke.

“So they’re all spending the night out?”

“Uh, yeah.” Mariana looked at Lena with more attitude than her petite body should have been able to hold.

“Why?”

“Because it’s your anniversary, remember?”

“Yes. I remember.” Lena’s tone sharpened as she couldn’t help but turn some of her daughter’s attitude back at her. “But Mom and I were just going out for dinner. We left pizza money for you guys.”

Mariana crossed her arms over her chest, her head cocked and her eyebrows arched high. “Yeah but eventually you’re going to come home and trust me. No one wants to be here for that.”

Lena pressed her lips into a tight line to disguise her shock at Mariana’s candor, her eyes slipping to the ground for a moment. She cleared her throat while her face grew warm. “Then why are you home?”

Mariana rolled her eyes as she plopped down on a stool at the table. “Because I couldn’t find somewhere to go before Brandon was ready to leave so they all just left me here.” She dropped her chin into her hands, a pout settling on her face.

Lena chuckled and shook her head. She leaned her elbows on the corner of the table beside her daughter. “Well, it looks like the universe is on your side tonight.”

Mariana’s head popped up. “What do you mean?”

“We had to cancel our dinner plans.”

“What? Why?”

“Mom has to work late. I’m not sure when she’ll even be home.”

“Well that sucks.”

Lena nodded in agreement, though she was surprised that her daughter sounded more offended than relieved.

“I mean, you guys only get one first anniversary and you waited so long to be able to get married. That’s so unfair.”

Lena smiled, touched by her daughter’s reaction. She squeezed Mariana’s shoulder in appreciation. “It is. But that’s life. And you know, when it comes down to it, a first anniversary is just that. A first. Which means that, hopefully, we’re going to have many more. So, if we have to have one not-so-memorable anniversary in order to have all the ones to come, I’ll take it.” Lena’s mood lifted as her own words helped her gain some perspective on the day. Mariana’s face brightened with a warm smile and a quiet moment passed between them.

A loud buzzing startled them both and Mariana pulled her phone out of her back pocket. Lena dropped her head down onto her arm atop the table, letting the moment go as her daughter buried her head in her phone.

“So.” Lena pushed herself up straight and rested her hands on the edge of the table. Her fingers tapped a slow rhythm against the wood. “Since it’s just you and me, how do you feel about pizza and a movie?”

“Huh?” Mariana looked up from her text. “Oh, yeah. Sure. But can we get gluten free?”

“When did you stop eating gluten?” Mariana was deep in her phone again and Lena changed her mind. She didn’t need to know. “You know what, gluten free’s fine.” She picked up her phone. “Why don’t you go pick a movie while I order?” Mariana ignored her, continuing to text until Lena cleared her throat.

“Wha- uh yeah. Right. A movie. I’ll go and pick one, sure.”

Lena tilted her head to the side, curious about the sudden change in demeanor. “Is everything okay?”

“What? Yeah, no. It’s fine.”

Lena raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, and Mariana deflated.

“It’s just. Emma texted me and her plans got canceled so she asked if I still wanted to spend the night. We have a STEM project to work on so it was kind of perfect timing but I told her I was busy so it’s fine.” Watching Mariana fight the look of disappointment on her face was like watching her own afternoon play out in front of her.

“You should go.”

“No, Mama. It’s fine. We’ll just work on our project during our free period on Monday. I don’t want to be the second one to ditch you for dinner tonight.”

“Ouch.” Lena grimaced, though a smile danced at the edges.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” She waved away the apology and smiled at her daughter. “I’m fine. So go on. Go to Emma’s.”

“Really? You’re sure?” Even if she wasn’t, how could she say otherwise with Mariana practically vibrating with excitement?

“I’m sure. Now go before I change my mind and make you stay and watch a documentary with me.”

“Okay, okay! I’m going!” Mariana hugged Lena then rushed out of the room and up the stairs before Lena could blink. In the time it took Lena to get from the kitchen to the front door, she was running back down, a backpack slung over her shoulder.

“Do you need a ride?”

“No, I’ll walk. Thanks, Mama.” She was already halfway out the door.

“You’re welcome. I love you.”

“Love you, too.” The door was almost shut behind her when she popped her head back in. “Happy anniversary,” she said then slammed the door.

“Thanks,” Lena said to the empty room. She stood there for a moment. When was the last time she’d had the entire house to herself? Never, probably. The unfamiliar promise of solitude was exciting and as she tried to decide how to spend her time, she found herself overwhelmed with possibilities. Her initial impulse was to take the opportunity to clean in peace. It would be nice to mop the floors without someone immediately walking across them, just once. Or she could answer some work emails without interruption. But as she wandered into the kitchen the money on the counter caught her eye. If she had to spend her anniversary alone, shouldn’t she at least get to enjoy it?

#adamsfosterfic #the fosters #the fosters fic #lena adams foster #mariana adams foster #i know i'm using the adamsfoster fic tag but it came from an adamsfoster fic #and that's my main audience so i'm using it #idc #written by lifesizehysteria #fanfiction

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