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reidyoulikeabook · 4 years

Text

Right Where You Left Me

Ship: BAU! Gender Neutral! reader x Spencer Reid

#Request - Could you do some angst with “you dont deserve my forgiveness?” Any ship!

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Mention of death, violence, injury (not serious), angst, mourning, a lot of tears. Also, swearing, anger, fighting (verbal, not physical.)

Summary: You and Spencer Reid had been together for a year before he ‘died.’ You grieved him. You mourned him.

A/N: Title stolen from my (current) favourite Taylor Swift song. Not sure how I feel about this one but! Here it is anyway! My requests are open & pls feel free to let me know what you think!!

14 days and 30 minutes exactly

You don’t think about the day Spencer Reid died. You can’t, because even remembering he’s dead feels as if an ice bucket has been tipped over your head. Not even now, two weeks later, have you really gotten over the initial shock that you felt. Every waking moment felt like you were trying to solve some kind of never-ending puzzle. Each emotion was overwhelming, too much to process. It felt like things would only start to get better, like everybody promised they would, when you started to be able to name the emotions rather than describe them as the physical sensations they brought on.

And you didn’t think that’d happen anytime soon.

The shared apartment was too much. You hadn’t slept in your bed since he’d been gone, and forbid anyone else from going into the bedroom. It was a sanctuary.

You understood now more than ever why victims families never changed a thing about the room of their loved ones. Every single thing felt deliberate. Theirs. It was a reflection of the time they were most alive, living. A unique snapshot of them in motion. The mess they left that they expected to come home to.

Rationally, you knew that wasn’t true. There wasn’t a sock hanging off Spencer’s bedside table, or a clean cardigan balled up on the floor, for any reason other than he’d been in a rush that morning, and had left an uncharacteristically large mess in his wake. In more ways than one.

***

2 months, 5 days, 8 hours

Being back at work helps somewhat, but the office feels empty without him there to ramble off factoids about anything and everything, to hear Morgan calling him ‘kid’ every five minutes. He only called you that now.

Simmons is nice, really he is. It isn’t his fault he’s there in place of Spencer and you try hard not to feel personally aggrieved by his presence. He doesn’t do anything to antagonise you, he stays out of your way more than anything. You don’t do anything to purposely make him uncomfortable: you do try to be agreeable and make small talk. But it’s hard not to look at him without thinking how, if everything was how it should be, Spencer would be stood in his place.

***

3 months, 26 days, 3 hours.

There is no ‘new normal.’ You’ve heard the term tossed around a few times in relation to grief, but if there is a new normal you’re still struggling to find it. When you’re not on cases, there’s no ‘normal’. You still don't sleep in your own bed. Sometimes you stay on Rossi’s, or Morgan’s, or Garcia’s couch. Sometimes, read: maybe once, it’s in the spare room at the place you and Spencer used to share. Sometimes, when you get worried about being a burden, it’s a hotel. It’s easier to feel as if you’re choosing to stay away from home, rather than acknowledging that home, as you understand it, no longer exists.

You still wake up and instinctually search for Spencer most mornings. Sure, work is keeping you occupied and you smile a little more these days. You even allowed yourself to be dragged out for drinks last weekend. But nothing feels like it should. You don’t know if that’s normal for grief or if you just aren’t moving forward at all, doomed to tread yourself deeper into the melancholic quicksand that’s got a hold on you.

You talk at length about it with Garcia over wine one night.

“Nothing feels right,” you admit, “Everything just feels...”

Garcia waits, just tipping her chin slightly to encourage you to continue. She’s got the counsellor act down and you’d have the decency to feel embarassed if you weren’t just so damn exhausted all the time.

“I feel trapped, I guess. Like I’m frozen. I keep thinking maybe it’ll get better once the trials over. Once the whole legal aspect of it is over and put to bed, then maybe I’ll have some closure on the whole situation,” you mumble, “I just don’t know how to move forward. I don’t feel like I’ve moved forward. And I know it’s only been three months but I’ve only stayed at our apartment twice and I can’t bring myself to move any of his things and...”

She just waits. In that moment, you’re so grateful for her.

“I’m stuck here. I can’t change anything. I can’t bring myself to move any of his things. I’m paying rent on a place I don’t live in but I can’t move because how can I live somewhere he’s never been? I feel like I’m stuck. I can’t move out of the world he lived in but the world is moving on even without him. And I’m just...I’m just here, Garcia.”

She nods sympathetically, placing her hand on your arm, “Maybe it’ll help when the case is wrapped up. When you have that closure.”

“Yeah,” you agree, “Yeah. I hope so.”

“There’s something you’re not saying,” she says, gently, “And you don’t have to say it. But if you’re holding back because you feel guilty then you don’t have to feel guilty about anything you say to me, my darling.”

You start to well up then. The pressure in your chest is heavy, something akin to guilt. It slices into your chest, cut glass sitting between your ribs and slicing you open every time you breathe in. You’ve been thinking it a lot lately. Too much. It’s making you feel awful and you can’t decide if putting it out into the world verbally is going to be a release or make it feel too real.

Garcia waits patiently.

You decide to believe it’ll be the former, then whisper, “I wish I loved him less. I wish I’d loved him less so this wouldn’t hurt as much.”

And then the sobs come. The sobs that wrack your chest and sting your eyes and leave you looking like you’ve been on the receiving end of an upper cut. Because how could you? How could you possibly want to take back any of the love you had so willingly, freely, given to the person you loved most? What kind of person did it make you to want to take back the good memories: to wish that instead of having waffles on the couch that last Sunday, you’d had a fight about the library fine he’d gotten because of you? How could you want to switch the puzzle pieces to create a less idyllic picture of your life together, just so you wouldn’t feel so much loss when you looked at it?

She just rubs your back through it, knowing that no words can help but still saying the thing she thinks you need to hear most, “That doesn’t make you a bad person, sugar plum. That makes you human.”

***

4 months, 6 days, 14 hours.

Hotch calls you all into the briefing room.

“A few months ago a decision had to be made. Somebody had the potential to make an incredible breakthrough on a case that had been airtight for years. But it wasn’t possible for that individual to complete that work without cover. They needed to be officially gone,” Hotch’s voice booms but you swear you can hear a hesitation, “It wasn’t necessary at the time for you to have that information. Providing you with it would have compromised the safety of one of our agents, and the integrity of their investigation.”

You glance around the room, confused, noticing everyone is sharing the same bewildered look. Except Emily.

“I apologise completely for having to keep this from you, it was a decision that was not taken lately, and I did not have the final say. That being said, any discontent about this decision should be directed towards me,” he glances towards Emily, and she’s looking nervous now.

Hotch lets out a huff, somehow more tense than usual, “SSA Reid was not killed after the attack in Seattle. That was his cover, but he was investigating a case.”

He’s still talking but you can’t hear anything. SSA Reid was not killed. SSA Reid was not killed. You flip the sentence over a hundred times. And for the millionth time since SSA Reid was killed, you have no idea what you feel.

There’s uproar from everybody. Shouting. And then Hotch says something and everybody is looking at you, scanning you for a reaction and you have nothing. Nothing at all.

“Hi,” a voice from the doorway, nervous and shy, a voice you’ve only heard in dreams and voicemails and recordings from nights out that you must have watched hundreds of times by now, if they were tapes you would have worn them out long ago.

And you know you can’t face him. You can’t face any of them.

You look around the room, first at Hotch whose eyes flicker with what looks like remorse. Then, at Emily who just looks guilty as all hell. You don’t look at him. You can’t look at him.

The tension in the room is palpable but in your peripheral you see Garcia and J.J flock to the doorway, embracing him.

Rossi, is the one who comes to you, “____?”

You stare at him, completely blankly, “Yeah?”

“You need to speak to him. Need to hear him out.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, allowing him to help you to your feet. His reassuring hands on your shoulders turn you around and you meet his face. The face of the boyfriend you spent the last four months mourning while everybody watched you fall apart. And half of them knew.

So that’s what you feel. Anger.

“Glad you’re back,” you snipe, pushing past him, “Glad you’re alive.”

Everybody watches you go. A tense silence fills the room. Spencer clears his throat, after what feels like an eternity, muttering, “I-I’ll go after ... I’ll go and see if I can...”

It wasn’t the reaction he was hoping for, if he’s honest. Although he wasn’t sure what exactly he’d been expecting.

“____ please, just let me talk to you, I’m sorry, please just let me have a chance to explain,” He manages to catch you at the elevator just in time, slipping through the gap with his lithe body, “Please. I need to explain. I need to apologise.”

“You can apologise as much as you want. You don’t deserve my forgiveness. You’ll never deserve my forgiveness.”

The venom in your tone leaves him floundering.

“___ please,” he’s begging, and you won’t look at him because you can hear the tears in his voice and he’s begging again, “Please, please look at me, please listen to me. You have to understand, you have to give me a chance to explain, please.”

You’ve never been this angry at him before. But you are now. It consumes you, you’ve never understood a crime of passion before and you’re not going to put your hands on him, of course, but fuck do you understand it now. How a person could just snap. The rage swells in you, screaming. Every muscle in your body is tense. It takes all you have to ball your hands into fists, digging your nails into your palm so hard you’re sure they break the skin. You’re furious. Furious at every single one of them.

“You lied to me,” you spit, “You lied to me and let me think you were dead. You and Hotch and Emily. I didn’t sleep in our bed for four months, Spencer. I’ve spent the past four months frozen, like, I couldn’t move forward without you. I didn’t start to move on. I've spent the last four months falling apart and trying to find a way to put myself back together without you, and then what, you just come back? You think we can just go back to normal? Spencer, I didn’t feel alive this past few months. I’ve been floating through, barely keeping it together. And for what? A case? That was important enough for you to do this to me?"

It’s true, you’ve spent the last four months feeling like you were the one who died. That you were united in being ghosts, except you were haunting all the places you used to go together, and he was just haunting your dreams. And he’d been alive. This. Whole. Time.

You storm out of the lift, lifting your head to look at him for only the second time in four months, “Please. Just leave me alone. You’ve done enough.”

He knows you aren’t wrong. Knows he doesn’t know if he could forgive you if the roles were reversed. Knows, more than anything, that he’s really fucked things up. You’ll never forgive him. That’s what you said, and right now, seeing anger like never before in your eyes, he has no reason whatsoever to doubt that isn’t completely true.

You don’t even make it to the parking lot before you feel your resolve melt into absolutely nothing. Anger descending into relief, hot tears cascading down your cheeks as the mantra starts again on a new loop in your head: SSA Reid was not killed.

#spencer reid fanfic #imagine spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid #imagine criminal minds #criminal minds x you #bau!reader

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libraryofnesta · 3 years

Text

Tied to Ruin

ao3 link

Summary:

Cassian and Nesta were lovers, partners in crime. They did everything together. That is until tragedy strikes, causing Nesta to run away, far from everything she once knew.

Over five years later, Nesta is living life to as full as it can get. It’s not until an incident occurs that drags her into far more than she bargained for.

Notes:

thanks so much for reading. i'm a huge hoe for exes to lovers, so i have like 20 ideas in my head, and this is one of them. It's multichapter. i'm not sure how long this is gonna be, but definitely over ten chapter. this fic has two timelines. One will show them from when they're kids to teens, and one while they're adults. Both will occur at the same time, so things will start to unravel as you read.btw! velaris is gonna be like a super small town in new york. like no one knows about it.

TW: implied domestic violence, nothing graphic.

Chapter 1: lonely beds, different cities

Words, how little they mean

When you're a little too late

I stood right by the tracks

Your face in a locket

Good girls, hopeful they'll be and long they will wait

Sad Beautiful Tragic

Taylor Swift

2016, Small Town Velaris

“Please,” she whispers, voice hoarse. Nesta is practically begging at this point, but she has nothing else to relent to. “We can get out of here.” She swallows hard when he doesn’t reply. “We’re still young Cassian, we can still-”

“Nesta.” He says. It's one word, but it makes her pause. He rarely calls her Nesta. It’s always ‘Nes’ or ‘Sweetheart.’

“I can’t.”

Their lives have changed so drastically over the past few weeks. Nesta’s whole childhood is here. Everything she’s ever known. She’s not sure how much more of it she can handle now.

She’s well aware of the tears streaming down her face. Nesta doesn’t know what she can say to convince him, so she says the one thing that she’s been repeating over and over.

“You can…”

Cassian’s face seems to harden. The look he gives her makes her take a step back. He hasn’t looked at her like that in years. “Go ahead and leave Nesta.”, he says, voice rising. “Go live that picture perfect you always wanted. I won’t stop you.”

“Not everyone wants what you do.”

2021 New York, Manhattan

Something about leaving Valkyrians still makes her feel at odds. She’s not as resistant to the sight of blood anymore, and she’s not sure if she can ride a motorcycle as well as she used to. There are still parts that linger though. She still remembers how to throw a punch. A damn good one too. She still feels uneasy when someone walks in the same direction for too long though. It might be the worst part of it all.

Nesta doesn’t do much for fun. She doesn’t dance as much as she likes. The amount of books she reads has decreased. Her days consist of work and eating, even though she skips more meals than she should. But she’s free. That’s what really matters, doesn’t it?

The muscles in Nesta’s body ache. She just finished a seven hour shift, and got a promotion that pays much better. Nesta wants to celebrate. She wants to talk to someone. It’s been so long since she’s talked to anyone. The fear of someone finding out about her past is lodged so deep in her head it caused her to isolate. The simple way of putting it is she has no friends.

Coworkers are the only source of non-work related conversation she engages in. It’s always small talk too. Just as Nesta is about to fall asleep, she rubs her eyes and forces herself to stay awake. Getting up from the lumpy couch, Nesta walks to her cabinet, grabbing a random mug and pouring wine into it. Once she gets a better look at the mug, she can’t help but scoff.

It’s ironic. Complaining about being lonely. It’s almost like she chose loneliness. She loves the quiet. When she was younger, all she wanted was alone time. She dreads it now. Nesta gets up after finishing her glass. She’s a bit drowsy, and is way too tired to walk all the way to her room. Instead Nesta walks back over to her couch. She lies horizontally, staring into the abyss until she eventually falls asleep.

She dreams of seeing him that night. It’s a regular occurrence. It’s lessened over the years, but never fully disappeared. The image of him is blurry. It’s not as precise as it used to be. She hates still thinking of him. It doesn’t stop her from reminiscing a little though.

Her being upset makes sense of course. They’d known each other for over ten years, hating one another at first. Eventually, he began to grow on her. Their bickering had become playful, before they once again became estranged.

“Cassian?”

The figure turns around, and he knocks the wind out of her. His hair is out of it’s usual bun. He gives her that familiar boyish smile, walking towards her and putting an arm on her.

“Missed me Sweetheart?”, he says, ruffling her hair a bit. Nesta scrunches her nose in response.

“You wish.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah yeah whatever.” He talks for a while. Nesta’s barely paying attention. It’s just nice to hear his voice again. He asks her what she’s reading, and she replies the same every time. It’s silent after a while. They’ve talked themselves out. It’s a nice silence though. Her favorite silence.

Cassian stares at her for a few seconds, giving her a soft smile and pushing a loose hair behind her ear.

“Come back,” he whispers.

Her breath stutters. “It’s been five years, Cass,” she mutters, breaking eye contact. Her eyes flicker between the ground and his face, gauging his reaction.

He doesn’t stop looking at her.

“I didn’t want to leave,” said Nesta. There’s a lump in her throat.

He scrubs a hand over his face. “Yet here we are.”

“You know why I left.”

Her eyes feel like they’re beginning to water. “I asked you to come with me. You’re the one who didn’t.”

Cassian looks to the side. He looks impassive, yet also emotionless. “You’re the one who ran away, Nesta.”

“I didn’t run away.”

He scoffs in response. “Keep telling yourself that.” Cassian starts walking away. It’s cloudy and has no solid ground or sky. At that moment she remembers where she really is. Nesta stands there, waiting until he fully fades away. It always feels too real.

The dreams always end like that.

Nesta can barely pry her eyes open when she wakes up. She has the next two weeks off. Her boss, Helion, had insisted she take a week or two off, since the bar was under a small renovation. She checks her phone and it reads 12:03. Jesus, she really had overslept.

In all honesty Nesta had no idea what to do with her free time. Maybe she’ll finally finish that book she started months ago. But in reality Nesta knows all she’ll do is go to a bar and let a stranger fuck her into oblivion until she kicks them out or leaves.

By the time Nesta leaves her house it’s around 3:00. She goes to the coffee shop next door. She orders a coffee and sits in the corner of the room. Nesta somehow feels like the center of attention. It’s an empty shop, but it feels like all eyes on her. The room feels too cold.

The feeling follows her when she goes to the local bookstore. It’s crowded, but the area is quiet. Nesta browses through the shelves, sticking to the romance section. She holds a few books. It’s not until Nesta drops one, people begin to look at her. It makes a loud thump hitting the floor. Several pairs of eyes turn to her. The cover is of a shirtless man too.

Fuck , she thinks, This is embarrassing. Nesta purses her lips, hand curling into a fist as she puts the book back on it’s shelf.

It’s around 5:00 when she takes the train home. Nesta spent the rest of her day at the park, not wanting to stay at home. It doesn’t feel like home as much as she’d like it to though. Finally, Nesta makes it home.

She’s in an empty parking lot. The area she lives in is pretty small. Nesta knows basically everyone in her apartment complex. It’s a tiny place. She never talks to anyone, but they do acknowledge each other. Barely anyone has a car either, herself included. So it is a bit weird to see an unrecognizable car. It’s odd, but Nesta thinks nothing of it. It’s probably just someone visiting.

Nesta goes into her apartment, before leaving once more to go to the bar that’s the second closest to her apartment. She’s usually working at this time, flirting with customers and taking them home when her shift ends.

The bar is crowded and loud. Lights are flashing, voices yelling, bodies moving. It’s out of her comfort zone. She’s been doing this for years and is still isn’t used to it. She sits on one of the stools where the drinks are served. A girl approaches her. Nesta never approaches anyone. She can’t see clearly in the light. The girl’s hair is brunette, though her roots are dark. Her brown skin illuminates in the flickering light.

“Hey”, she says “I’m Nora” Nora extends her hand to her. Nesta smirks in response, resting her elbow on the counter grasping her hand with the other.

“I’m Mila,” she says. No matter what she does, Nesta will never use her real name. Nora’s eyebrows raise. Nesta can see her lick tongue move as it pushes on her skin.

“Pretty name.”

They talk for around five minutes. It’s all small talk. They drink while they talk. Most of the things she responds with are lies anyways. Nora grasp’s her arm with her hand. “Wanna get out of here?” she asks. Her words are slurred, and Nesta has to restrain herself from flinching.

Something in her head tells her not to let anyone in her house though. Something is wrong, but she can’t put her mind on it. The idea of letting a stranger in her house sends goosebumps across her arms. Before, she’d never question it twice. Now that she thinks of it, doing this practically screams stranger danger. Especially with her past, this person could be anyone. Nesta slowly probes herself from the girl.

“I’ve gotta go”, she says. “Sorry, but there's something I need to do.” The girl doesn't seem to mind, either too drunk to care, or only looking for a one night stand. She nods, before introducing herself to someone else. Nesta feels her chest lighten, exiting the crowded bar to call an uber.

Whenever it’s quiet, she always reminisces.

2006, Small Town Velaris

Nesta wakes up and finds herself stranded. She has no idea where she is. She’s lying in a bed inside a mostly empty room. There’s only a few pieces of furniture, a stool and a drawer. It’s relatively small. The last thing she remembers is being in a car with her sisters and parents. She hears voices outside of the room yelling.

“You expect me to leave-”

“Her father is-”

“She’s nine what would she-”

“So what if she’s young!”

“-s innocent so what if-”

She hears a loud smack. The silence after is deafening. The voices are quiet after, whispers. Afterwards, Nesta hears footsteps approaching. She scrunches her eyes shut, trying to pretend to be asleep. Nesta hears the door open and close. A hand lays on her forehead. As the person removes it, a calming voice talks. “Are you awake?” Nesta slowly looks at the person, opening only one eye, then another. She sees a woman with black hair and tan skin. Her cheeks are flushed and she has a small smile on her face.

The woman squats down so she’s the same height as the bed Nesta is laying on. “Hi,” the woman whispers, voice solemn and comforting. “My names Aurora,” she says. Nesta squishes her lips together. She’s confused and feels like crying. Nesta doesn’t cry though. She’s pretty sure her eyes water though, because Aurora strokes her hair and whispers, “It’s okay to cry.”

Nesta gasps and shakes her head. “Mommy says I’m not supposed to cry.” Aurora seems to be shocked silent. The silence makes Nesta become aware of everything that is happening. She slowly sits up. Once her feet are off the bed, Nesta quickly sprints to the door, opening it and running out. She has no idea where she’s going.

Suddenly, Nesta is hit with a hard impact, and falls down on her butt. She looks up and sees two boys. They’re both around the same height. They have the same dark hair too, except one is longer than the other. Nesta gets up and brushes off the dust on her leggings.

She notices it then. The leggings. She’s never worn pants before.

It’s also when she notices the juice smeared across one of the boy's shirts. It’s the long haired one’s. He drops the red cup to the ground and makes an angry noise. “That was my favorite shirt.”

Nesta feels sheepish as she whispers a quiet, “Sorry.”

The one with longer hair whispers to the other boy, obviously meaning for her to hear too. “She’s probably not even double digits.” The other boy is quiet, looking at the ground. He seems nervous and shy.

Nesta feels a sense of outrage course through her. She pouts, crossing her arms. “I’m almost ten. I’m nine and a half” The boy crosses his arms too.

“Well I’m ten and a half,” he says.

“Cassian,” Aurora scolds. “Play nice.” She puts a hand on Nesta’s shoulder and bends down. “I need to talk to…” She doesn’t continue.

Nesta turns towards her, and realizes she needs her name. “Nesta,” she says.

Aurora smiles, “That’s a wonderful name.”

Cassian still seems angry. “I think it’s stupid.” Aurora sighs and gets up. “Azriel”, she says to the other boy. He hadn’t talked the whole time, Nesta almost forgot he was there. “Make sure he stays out of trouble. And Cassian, please change your shirt.” The two (stupid) boys walk away. Once they’re from a far enough distance, Aurora looks back down at her. “I have to talk to you about something.”

2021 New York, Manhattan

Nesta walks into her apartment tired and half asleep. Once inside her apartment, she changes into more comfortable clothes, sweatpants and a grey t-shirt.

Nesta’s about to go to bed, until she hears the sound of glass shattering and liquid spilling. She freezes, thinking about the mug of wine she left out.

No.

Nesta scrambles towards the kitchen and grabs a flashlight from a cabinet, flashing the light to the ground. The mug is shattered to pieces, and she can still see little droplets of wine. The words aren’t visible anymore, letters broken and unreadable.

There’s no way it could’ve fallen on its own. It was in the middle of her counter. Unless...

Suddenly it all makes sense. The unrecognizable car in the parking lot. The uneasy feeling in her stomach. The constant nagging in her head, telling her that something is wrong.

She thinks about calling the police but goes against it. Years in a fucking biker gang taught her better then to trust those scumbags.

She always kept a gun in her house. Just in case. She really hates how no matter what she does. she’ll always be connected to this.

The person inside her apartment most definitely knows where she is. Nesta grabs a broom, sweeping the glass shards into an empty bag. She can fix it later. Tying it up, Nesta leaves it on her counter.

There's a wall blocking the entrance to her bathroom. She walks towards it, opening and closing the door so it seems she went inside. Grabbing her gun from the small drawer, Nesta lays her back against the wall, barely peeking out the wall, but just enough so she can see them as they crawl out from behind her couch.

The figure moves stealthily, back turned towards her. If she weren’t directly staring at it, there would be no way of knowing it was there. The moves look familiar, but she can’t put her mind on it. The moonlight shines on them so she can see the most obvious features. It’s not until the floor creaks the figure turns towards her direction. Nesta turns back to face her bathroom door, hands drawn to tight fists. There’s no way they hadn’t seen her. She moved too slow. Nesta peeks her head out to look again.

It’s not until she sees a familiar pair of scarred hands in the moonlight, it all comes together.

“Azriel Night?”

In dreams

I meet you in warm conversation

We both wake

In lonely beds

In different cities

And time

Is taking its sweet time erasing you

And you've got your demons

And darlin' they all look like me

PSA!! go to ask’s to be added to tag list

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milkbread420 · 4 years

Note

do you think you could write something(hc, drabble, etc 😂 take your pick) where one of the boys(kuroo or suna(idk if you write for suna) where the reader is “heather”. like the boys have girl best friend that likes them but the boys have a crush on the reader...yk? let’s flip the switch 👀 but only if you want to, no pressure.

Pairings: Kuroo x f!reader, Suna x f!reader

I kinda got carried away and just did all of the above bc I couldn’t pick but I hope this is what you were looking for! :)

(Also sorry this took a while, I’m a little busy, I hope you didn’t think I was ignoring you hwbxjowsgoih)

Warnings: Swearing, angst??

Kuroo

Kuroo talks about you all the time

Like so much, that she’s told him to shut up more than a few times.

When she does, he teases her about being jealous.

Little does he know

He has her talk to you, and makes her tell him everything just so he can find out little things about you here and there.

That’s how he’s learned your favorite color, your favorite food, and some of your hobbies.

He would smile and blush as she talked about her conversations with you

Every time she’d die a little inside.

He asks her for advice almost every chance he gets

Definitely cancels his plans with her just to spend more time with you

She wants to hate you so bad

Like so bad

But you’re just so perfect and kind, he absolutely adores you, and she swears that you were made for him.

You even laugh at all of his terrible chemistry jokes.

She used to be the only one.

He always takes her out to buy little gifts for you because he needs “a girl’s input” on what would be a good gift.

“Maybe buy me a gift,”

Girly really hoped you were a passing fad

Secretly hoped you’d reject him and he’d realize that she was the one for him

Life is not ‘You Belong With Me’ by Taylor Swift :

All her hopes are crushed when she sees him kissing you after a game in front of all his teammates

Kenma: Yikes

“Did you see how pretty she looked today?” Kuroo sighed, letting his body collapse onto his bed. The girl sitting upright beside him nodded stiffly, “She’s like an angel or something,” his lips curved upward into a smile, “I can’t believe someone like her even looks in my direction,” he ran his fingers through his hair, “She’s fucking perfect,” “Shut up for a second,” the girl snapped. Kuroo’s eyes shot open and he dragged himself up into a sitting position, “Sorry, it’s just, she’s all you ever talk about anymore, I want to talk about other things to ya’ know,” she huffed, folding her arms over her chest.

Kuroo quirked a brow, sending her a devilish smirk, “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you,” he joked, a boisterous laugh escaping him; she frowned, “Aw come on, I’m just messing with ya’,” She knew that, but without even realizing, he’d struck a chord that shouldn’t have been played, “You think you could do me a solid?”

“Not a liquid or a gas?” She giggled.

Kuroo laughed for just a second, “I’m serious,” he said. She swore he could have heard the shattering of her heart, the Kuroo she knew would never brush off a good science pun; he really did like you.

She swallowed hard, “Yeah what’s up?”

“Well I was thinking you could talk to her for me, you know? Girl to girl or some shit?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck, “It’s just I get all stupid around her, so I was hoping you could help me out,”

“Sure,” The girl replied before he could even really think about it. How pathetic. She thought.

“Thanks, I owe you one,” Kuroo sighed, “How about I set you up with one of the first years on my team?” he smirked, standing up and walking out of his room; she followed close behind, “Have your pick, I’ll put in a good word,” by the time he finished talking, they were standing right next his front door. The girl shot him an inquisitive look, “I told her I’d call her around this time,” he said.

“Oh!” she understood, “Got it! Well, have fun!” he wanted her to leave. “I most certainly will,” he smiled, waving her off as she opened the door for herself.

“See you tomorrow then,”

“Yep,”

“Excuse me, y/n?” the girl tapped your shoulder and you stopped in your tracks, turning to face her, “I’m sorry to bother you on your walk home, it’s just, I was wondering if we could talk? Like get to know each other,” you recognized her from how much time she spent with Kuroo. They were friends, and you knew that, so you jumped at the opportunity to get acquainted with one of his friends.

“Of course!” You said with a kind smile that she was certain you couldn’t have faked, “It would be an honor actually!” you continued, making her want to rip your throat out, but also thank you profusely; she opted for neither, “You’re so cool and collected around Kuroo, I’m a little jealous,” she admitted. If only you knew, she thought to herself. “I wish I could be that way too, but i just get all flustered and red whenever he’s around me,”

She forced a smile onto her face, “Well I’ve known him long enough not to be flustered anymore,” her eyes fell and she recalled all the times he’d made the butterflies in her stomach flutter like nobody’s business.

You giggled and nodded, “You’re so pretty, too!”

The girl almost stopped dead in her tracks, “Thank you,” but you’re perfect.

You smiled and nodded.

“Hey,” Kuroo said, turning around in his desk to look at the girl, “Do you wanna go to the mall with me after school?” She stared blankly for a moment, thinking this might be everything that she’d been waiting for, “It’s y/n’s birthday next week, and I wanna get her something nice,” he said with a lovestruck smile that wasn’t for her.

“Oh!” she nodded, “Yeah, sure!”

“Cool,” Kuroo gave her a thumbs up, “I could use some advice, I don’t really know what girls like,” he shrugged, “Meet me in the schoolyard after our last class,” the girl nodded and he turned back around. She cursed herself for even thinking it could be about her.

After the last bell rang, she stood and waited for him in the schoolyard, more than a little disgruntled by the fact that he was nowhere in sight. She checked the time. It had already been ten minutes since the last class.

“Sorry!” she heard a him holler as he ran towards her, “y/n didn’t have enough for a water at the vending machine, so I went to buy her one from the cafeteria,” he said, panting as he caught his breath.

“It’s fine,” she said, looking down.

Kuroo hesitated, “You okay?”

She smiled, “Yeah,”

“Look, I’ll make it up you okay?” he sighed. Her heart beat faster for just a moment, “I’ll bring you a piece of the cake you like from that bakery,” a smile graced her features, I’m going with y/n tomorrow,” she should have known better.

“You don’t have to,” she shook her head, hoping he’d tell her that he wanted to.

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged and started walking.

She stood there for a moment, collecting the pieces of her heart.

“You did great, Kuroo!” the girl said, smiling as the boy chuckled, just barely turning his head to look at her.

“We all did great,” he said, brushing some hair out of his face and turning back to high five his teammates. She smiled and stood there idly as he chattered and messed around with his team.

“Kuroo!” she heard a voice that had become all too familiar, and she immediately noticed the way his ears perked up at the sound of it, his whole body jerking around in the direction it came from; he smiled when he saw you, “You were amazing!” you said, grinning from ear to ear, “You’re so talented!”

He took one of your hands in his, “Thank you,” he smiled, his other hand brushing over your cheek, “I’m glad you could make it,”

The girl watched, fighting back a scorn.

She made it to every single game what the hell was just one in comparison?

The difference, she concluded, was that she simply was not you.

“Hey, who’s the hottie and why have you been hiding her from us?” Yamamoto complained, wiping sweat from his forehead as he shot you a charming smile.

“This is my-” Kuroo coughed, and the girl was almost sick right then and there. Even if just by mistake, he was about to call you his girlfriend, “This is y/n,” he said, wrapping his arm around your waist, “And don’t get any ideas,” he huffed. You giggled and flung your arms around him. For a moment he looked taken aback and the girl silently prayed he’d shove you away, but instead, his slender fingers made their way beneath your chin, tilting your head upwards ever so slightly. Your face was red and his was just a few centimeters away from it.

The girl turned away as he kissed you.

It was soft and innocent and filled with so much love she could be sick. His eyes were closed gently, so were yours, and you both looked like you’d found water in the middle of a desert. She wondered how long he’d been waiting to do that, how long he’d wanted to kiss you instead of her.

Kenma blinked, “y/n what is he bribing you with?”

“Nothing,” you laughed, “I really like him, that’s all,”

Kuroo smirked, “I really like you too miss y/n,”

“Gross,”

Kenma took the words right out of her mouth.

___

Suna

When Suna first started talking about you, he didn’t use a name so she thought he was talking about her.

Then he was like “yeah y/n is really something.”

Girl became hella toxic after that

He kinda stops talking about you, because when he does, she’s really mean

Has the AUDACITY to call you toxic

Knows deep down that you’re everything he’s ever wanted and genuinely feels happy for him, but will never say it.

She hates you and she wants you to know it

B word

He always defends you whenever she’s rude which totally pisses her off even more

At one point, mans gets sick and tired of her shit and tells her she can either act like a decent human being or find a new best friend

Girly shut up after that

Reluctantly

He definitely knows that she likes him and he highkey uses it to his advantage because he knows she’d do pretty much anything for him

Including driving you down to one of his away games when you’re out of money for the train.

It’s a very awkward ride.

She’s listening to some shit music

Will not hand you the AUX

He’s really touchy with you after that particular game and she just knows he’s about to do something that’s gonna tick her off

Atsumu also knows she likes him and he’s just like “Lmao, sucks,” cause he also knows the man is about to ask you to be his girlfriend.

When you hold Suna’s hand and he smiles she loses her marbles.

She knows he’s not one for PDA, so when he doesn’t brush you off, it makes her absolutely furious.

He drags you away to a more secluded place

Girl almost screams when she realizes he’s kissing you.

ATSUMU SAYS SOME DUMB SHIT TO HER I JUST KNOW IT

“She’s really a great person,” Suna said, writing in the answers to his homework as he sat with his friend in the school’s library, “She’s smart, and nice, and she’s really pretty,” he continued to move his pen and the girl next to him blushed.

“Really?” she asked, smiling as she got her hopes up, almost certain that he was about to confess his love for her.

“Yeah,” he said simply, “Her name’s y/n, she’s in our english class,”

Her face fell and she swore her heart stopped, “y/n, huh?” she sighed, resting her chin in the palm of her hand, “Never heard of her,”

“That’s too bad,” he said, his eyes not leaving the paper, “She’s really amazing,”

You must have been something if you had Suna praising you so highly. The thought in and of itself made her blood boil with jealousy.

“So do you like, have a crush on her?” she wasn’t sure if she even wanted to know, but her curiosity prevailed.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding softly, finally looking up from his homework.

She nodded and bit the inside of her cheek.

God did she wish she knew who you were, just so she could make your life a living hell.

“Your mascara smudged,” the girl said, rather loud as she tapped your shoulder from the desk behind you, “You should fix it,”

“Oh!”you turned around, face red from embarrassment, “Um, thanks,” Her voice had alerted some of your other classmates as well, making their heads turn towards you.

Suna scowled at his friend as she smiled fakely at you, “It’s okay, y/n, you look fine,” he said, his eyes not moving from the girl. She shrugged and looked down at the assignment on her desk. She heard Suna whisper something to you, but she couldn’t make out what it was, but you giggled. Her fist balled up and she almost snapped the pencil in her hand.

After class he left the room without her, walking with you by his side instead. She frowned and jogged to catch up to the two of you, forcing her way in between you and Suna. He sighed to himself.

“Suna!” she said with a pout, “You didn’t wait for me after class!”

He nodded, “I was gonna walk y/n to her next class,” the girl frowned and then looked over at you, “She’s a big girl, she can walk by herself!” you tilted your head, unable to tell whether or not she was joking.

“You can go Suna, I’m sorry if you felt like you had to or something,” you said, nervously fiddling with your fingers.

“No,” he said waving a hand in front of him, “It’s okay, I enjoy our time together,” the girl grimaced as you smiled at him and he smiled back.

“So how’s y/n?” the girl asked in a venomous tone, looking over at Suna from the other side of her living room sofa.

He shrugged, “She’s good,” the boy visibly tried to retain a smile as he answered.

“Oh what? All of a sudden you don’t wanna talk about her?” she asked, irritated by the shortness of his reply. She should have been happy, glad even that he had finally shut up about you, but she couldn’t help herself from being just a little disappointed that she couldn’t hear any more of his voice. You were all he wanted to talk about after all.

“I don’t feel like listening to you complain about her,” he said, glancing down at his phone and smiling. You must have been messaging him.

The girl folded her arms, “Not my fault she’s ruining our friendship,” she mumbled and looked away.

Suna looked up with confused expression, “She’s ruining our friendship?” he asked with a raised brow, “You’re the one sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong,”

She scoffed, “See! She’s got you wrapped around your finger, right where she. wants you! Wake up Rintaro! She’s a manipulative bitch! How many times did you willingly go out to the movies or to the mall before you met her?”

“It’s Suna,” he said in no particular manor, “And join the hurdling team if you’re gonna jump to conclusions,” he grumbled, grabbing his jacket before heading towards her front door,

“Wait!” she hollered.

“What?” he replied, looking bored as ever.

“Look, I’ll stop being so mean to her, okay?” she rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest.

“Okay.” he said simply, letting himself out. The girl wanted to beg him to stay, or even better, she wanted him to want to stay, all on his own with no encouragement from her; but as long as she wasn’t you, it would never be that way.

The girl’s phone rang, just as she was about to leave her house and head to the gym across town where Suna would be playing that afternoon. She let out a disgruntled sigh as she reached for her back pocket, clicking the ‘answer’ button.

“Hey,” it was his voice on the other end, “You’re coming to the game right?” A smile spread across her lips and she silently cheered; that must mean he wanted her there, “Hello?”

“Sorry!” she said, “Yeah, I’m just about to leave, I’ll be there in like twenty minutes,”

“Oh good,” he mumbled, she nodded as if he could see her, “you haven’t left yet,”

A horrible feeling brewed in the pit of her chest, “No,” she really didn’t want to ask, “why?”

She could hear his smile through the phone, “y/n’s out of money for the train I was calling to ask if you could bring her,”

Of course.

“Of course,” she said through her teeth, feigning a cheerful tone, “Send me her address,”

“I just did,” he said.

“Great!” she replied.

“Thanks,” he sighed, “I really want her here,”

“Of course,”

Of course.

It wasn’t her he was looking forward to having cheer him on, it wasn’t her hand he wanted to hold, and it wasn’t her who has stolen his heart, like some thief in the night.

It was you.

The girl arrived at your house around five minutes after the call, she honked a few times to get your attention; she couldn’t have been bothered to go knock, step into the house where you’d probably made out with her best friend a million times.

You tapped lightly on her window to get her attention. She shook herself and unlocked the door, “Thank you so much!” you said as soon as you sat down, “I’m so sorry, I feel so bad making you go out of your way, but thank you, really,”

In truth, her house was actually on the way to the stadium, “Yeah, just don’t expect it to be a routine thing,”

You nodded, “Of course not!” she flashed you a forced smile then turned on the radio. It was some music by an artist you absolutely hated, and she was quick to notice the momentary flash of disdain on your face.

“Do you not like this?” she asked though the answer was quite obvious.

You shook your head politely, “No, it’s alright!” she grinned almost evilly and turned up the volume.

After the game, you and the girl stood together awkwardly, both of you waiting for the same boy to come out of the gym. The doors opened a few moments later and the first person to appear was not Suna, but Atsumu Miya, “Suna, your fanclub’s here,” he chuckled as he continued walking, discreetly tugging the girl’s arm as he brushed past her.

“Hey-!” “Shut up for a second wouldja’?” he said lowly, looking back as Suna approached you, “I know yer’ gonna try some dumb shit, and this is important to Suna, so I needja’ to lay off,” he said.

She frowned, “What are you talking about?”

“He’s gonna make it official with y/n,” he rolled his eyes at how oblivious she was, “jeez are ya’ stupid?”

“He didn’t tell me,” she said with a scowl, “Let me go Atsumu I need to-”

The girl struggled in his grip, but his strength prevailed, “I don’t think so,” he said with a raised brow, “you’ve been causin’ nothin’ but trouble for them,” the setter explained, “so I ain’t lettin’ ‘ya go ‘till he’s done what he wants to do,”

She peeked over the setter’s shoulder and watched as your face turned a dark crimson, one of your shaky hands reaching for his. He didn’t jerk away, hell he didn’t even tense, his entire body just relaxed when your hand made contact with his and it was unlike anything she’d ever seen him do. In all the years she’d known him, all the times she’d touched him, he never once looked the way he did now.

He pulled you away, behind a wall near the bathrooms. Atsumu had finally let go and she quickly followed the path you and Suna had taken. The setter clicked his tongue and followed her to make sure she wouldn’t do anything stupid.

She would have too. Done something stupid that is, if she hadn’t seen the look on his face just before he kissed you; absolute content. It was like you’d made all his other thoughts and feelings just disappear, and she knew that even if she managed to tear them apart and get him to be with her, Suna would always wish she were you.

“I think I’m gonna go now,” she squeaked.

“See ‘ya at the wedding,” Atsumu said snidely.

She silently wondered if he was joking.

Ahh those were so fun to write ;-;

#kuroo x reader #suna x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #anime #hq #kuroo tetsurō #suna rintarou #hq x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #fanfic #anime / manga #suna rintaro x reader

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simonxriley · 3 years

Text

OC lore part 1 of 7 for @gear-redfield

Since I have a ton of ocs I’m gonna start off with the ones that are in different fandoms and then work my way through the fandoms I have multiple ocs for. I think I’m gonna do 5-6 HCs for them so it won’t be a mile long. The other ocs I’ll go into more details (maybe).

Riley Sanders (Metro Series)

Has three Watchers for pets, they’re her babies. But there was barely any room on the Aurora for them until they ended up getting the other rail carts. They tend to sleep anywhere they want, mostly in place where they stop people from moving around the train.

She’s not very talkative, likes to keep to herself for the most part. The people she talks with the most is Ulman, Artyom, Anna and Duke. That was until Katya and Nastya joined them.

Being able to breathe fresh air was kind of liberating for her. It made her happy that there were placing where you can live and breathe on the surface, not stuck in the dark, cold and damp metro.

Besides her and Ulman, Nastya was the first of the Aurora crew to hold their son.

Her brother wasn’t with her when that whole issue on the train occurred. He has no idea if she’s alive or not and she vice versa. She’s hoping she’ll be able to see him soon and have him meet his new nephew.

Amazing at stealth. Can sneak by a group or camp in a matter of minutes without killing anyone.

Kenadee “The Viper” Taylor (Ghost Recon)

She joined the US Army right out of high school with her high school sweetheart, Maverick. They married a year later and a year after that had their daughter Addison.

Joined Delta Force at the age of 24. That whole selection process was rigorous but very rewarding.

She has a very happy outlook on life, always bubbly. You wouldn’t think she’s apart of Delta. It throws people off every time.

Lost her husband in the field when their daughter was 5 years old. She retired after that and moved back to her hometown of San Diego where she could raise their daughter in a better environment.

Joined Nomad’s Ghosts five and a half years later. All thanks to Midas, who she met because their kids go to school together.

Carries around a knife coated in snakes venom, only uses it during interrogations.

Anja Kovic (Uncharted)

Was born to Borislav Kovic, a General Major in the Yugoslavia Ground Forces and Svetlana Kovic, a former nurse. Also the younger sister to Vladimir.

She grew up in a highly abusive household under her fathers rule. He had that mindset of the men work and the woman stay home, then add on the strictness of being in a military family.

Wanted to be a nurse growing up but those dreams got shot down when her father married her off to the war lord Zoran Lazarevic at the age of 18.

Marriage to Zoran was horrific, she was just happy he spent more time in the field than with her. His death did not sadden her whatsoever.

Lost her mother to suspicious circumstances when she was twelve. Leaving her and her older brother at the will of their father.

After Zoran’s death she was finally free. She left for Serbia in search of finding her brother and during that time gave birth to her and unfortunately Zoran’s son, naming him Dragan. And yes, she did find her brother and became the nurse she always wanted to be.

Evelyn “Evie” Hazelton (The Order 1886)

Was born to Edith Hazelton and an unnamed father in London, England on October 1st, 1860. (Her mom was a prostitute)

She lived in a brothel up until her mom’s murder. She loved it, to be surrounded with so many women that helped her through her life, gave her advice and helped molded her into the woman she is today.

Sir Percival/Malory gave her a spot on the Order after her mom’s death and she became the protege of Sir Galahad/Grayson. There she learned how to fight and shoot a gun.

The first time she ever saw a werewolf she thought it was a big dog. It was late at night, she was young and couldn’t tell since it was in the far distance.

Has a scar going down her back from being scratched by a werewolf during a fight.

Very protective of the people she cares about. She was the only person who pleaded not guilty during Grayson’s trial because she knows him. She knew he wouldn’t have worked with the rebellion if it didn’t suit a good cause.

Lydia Wilson (Call of Cthulhu)

Her parents were apart of the cult that was trying to bring back Cthulhu. However, they left Darkwater when Lydia was five and moved to Boston.

No matter how much her parents tried to make her forget the past, she didn’t. She still has memories of the cult, what the uniforms looked like, the masks. It never left her.

Started hearing the voice of the Leviathan in her dreams once she hit her late 20′s. Eventually she caught wind of what he wanted and she set sail for Darkwater, a place she hasn’t been since she was five.

Her father ran a tailoring shop and she helped a lot through her childhood.

When she spaces out she has a resting bitch face. It makes her loo unapproachable according to her mother.

The first time she saw the Shambler she though she was hallucinating. That wasn’t the case and she never wants to deal with it again.

Lily (MCU)

Born on the planet Prometheus. A planet cover in lush green grass and waterfalls.

Ever since she was a child she had this fight in her. She use to find a decent sized stick and pretend to fight a tree.

Was married to Thanos for over 20 years. The only good that came out of it were her kids.

Joined the Avengers after Thanos’ death. It was nice to be around people and strike up conversations. She just loved learning about Earth and she would talk about her home world.

She was the first owner of the scepter until it was given to Loki. That made her angry, she really loved that scepter.

The first person she befriended was Carol Danvers because her youngest daughter, Lotus really liked her.

Ashlynn Davenport (Tomb Raider)

Was born into Trinity. Her father was a sergeant in the Trinity army and her mom was a nurse.

She liked her life for the most part, loved her parents and friends, but the more she found out about Trinity and all the harm they do she wanted out. Unfortunately they didn’t happen when she was being married off to the Trinity field commander, Konstantin.

Being married to Konstantin meant moving around a lot, never really staying in one place for too long. Once the mission was done then they moved on. She didn’t mind it, not at first. She liked traveling around and seeing the world, but the stuff Trinity did put a bad taste in her mouth.

Ash can be quite manipulative when she wants to be. It was something she learned from her dad growing up.

She helped Lara take down Trinity from the inside when they were looking for the divine source. No one figured it out, all of thinking it was Lara.

Ashlynn actually loved Konstantin, she just thought his mind was corrupted by his sister and was trying to make him see what was right. So when he died she was pretty pissed and was going to say her true feeling to Ana. Unfortunately the Trinity sniper got to Ana first. Leaving her with a bunch of anger inside her.

Sawyer Monrow (TLOU)

She was 12 at the time of when the cordycepts outbreak began. Her life was pretty great as well and then over night everything changed.

Her family ended up at the Hartford QZ, where her and her younger brother went through military training (just like in Boston) to teach them how to kill infected and other humans if necessary.

Met Joel and Ellie in Pittsburgh. She was with Henry and Sam at the time and after their deaths she stayed with them and made the trek to Jackson.

She can be very standoff-ish at first glance. It’s how she acts in this apocalyptic world, more so to protect herself and because she doesn’t trust people.

Started a relationship with Joel a year and a half later. He was the first person she really let in and was happy for the few years they were together. She even considers Ellie like a little sister.

She lost her family when the Hartford QZ fell. She tried to save her brothers, but couldn’t. That still haunts her to this day.

Phaedra Alexeyev (Werewolf The Apocalypse)

She’s very good at backstabbing and manipulating people. All thanks to her former caern. A part of her hates it, but the other knows how in handy it can be.

She was born at the Shadow Lords Thunderstrike Sept, Ural Mountains, Russia. Close to the city of Chelyabinsk.

Phaedra and Cahal became a surrogate family after they both had to kill a family member.

Always the first ready to jump into the action. When there’s a fight she’s on the front lines, she’s not going to miss out. And she just likes to fight in general.

She born under a full moon making her have the Ahroun Auspices.The Full Moon makes the Ahroun the living weapon of Gaia. They are the warrior among a race of warriors, the champion of a martial people. Ever ready to kill, and to die if need be.

Her name means Bright Defender.

Emma Ross (Stargate Atlantis)

Joined the Marines to help pay for her college tuition. She surprisingly enjoyed it and continued to serve as she got her degree in science.

Lived a very mundane life growing up. Had two wonderful parents, a good upbringing, nothing exciting really happened. Which might have been the reason she joined the military.

The hardest thing she has to do is lie to her friends and family when she was transferred over to the Atlantis expedition. Being so far away from them sucks, but with the Daedalus she has more of a chance to go visit them.

As much as she’s in danger, she’s never felt more alive than being on Sheppard’s team. All the action just makes her blood pump.

Ronon calls her ‘red’ due to her being a red head. She finds it kinda funny.

She’s very friends and loves to strike up conversations whenever she can. Getting to know more people on Atlantis made living there easier.

#gear-redfield #oc riley sanders #oc kenadee taylor #oc anja kovic #oc evie hazelton #oc lydia wilson #oc lily #oc ashlynn davenport #oc sawyer monrow #oc phaedra alexeyev #oc emma ross #long post

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jett-dawson · 3 years

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BELLA ARC

The Rule

the rule states that any student who takes pictures of student work at rainbow high well experience an immediate expulsion. why does this only apply to bella? why not violet or karma, or anyone else who has pulled out their phones to take photos of things on campus? sounds like double standards to me.

the rule is dumb. especially since the students LIVE and WOR at rainbow high 24/7. they have a right to their work. the rule is dumb and is definitely a form of symbolism. i have seen this theory go around the fandom before & i have even addressed this theory before. i will address it again. stay tuned in the next slides for more on that.

The Timeline

we all knew bella was gonna get kicked out. whether or not we wanted it to happen, it was heavily implied in episode one that someone in the runway group was going to get kicked out. bella was the odd one out. she’s not in the wave one lineup, she’s not a part of the actual rainbow, and she was (more or less) a surprise to us when first seeing teasers for episode one. after that, the series of events through the first episodes had absolutely nothing to do with bella’s expulsion. there was no lead up! it was very sudden and the rule was very new to us. never was this rule stated before.

while i hate that it was written like this, i think i may know a meaning. this is a kids show. we are consuming children’s media. there is absolutely nothing wrong with that & anyone of any age is free and welcome to enjoy kids cartoons. what we have to understand is that this media isn’t exactly targeted towards us. i’m sure MGA, the company, is aware of us older fans. they use social media for that matter. that is where you find older fans. so that is where they get direct feedback from us. anyway... this show is obviously targeted towards a younger audience. if they were to extend the plot line, younger kids may not catch onto a lot of stuff that us older fans would. that’s not necessarily bad, but it doesn’t seem to be what the writers want. they write with simplicity, while still keeping in mind of laying out specific things in the show for specific reasons. so this sequence of events was written for younger kids to understand. bella was written & planned to be kicked out from the very beginning. kids may not have known this. so they introduced a rule that was unheard of so they have a reason to kick out bella. do i agree with this method? no. absolutely not. do i think they could’ve done better in finding a way to kick bella out? yes. absolutely. but younger kids will look at this and see that Bella broke a rule. Bella got kicked out. simple as that.

Symbolism

there have been theories that have gone around the fandom on the symbolism behind bella’s arc. her character, removal, and replacement all seem to line up with a real life sequence of events. allow me to explain.

bella is definitely a reference to barbie. her shirt is a direct take on a barbie shirt we have seen before. her character/personality is almost a lot like barbie if you think of it. if you’re into dolls and you’re into the community, you will know that Barbie/Mattel is MGA’s main rival. they have been going at it for years. constantly trying to dominate each other. MGA has made it very clear that they do not like Mattel. the creator of rainbow high himself stated that he “respects” barbie but believes it is time for her to leave the shelves and retire. it’s time for something new, something fresh, something modern.

think of it in the rainbow high timeline. bella(barbie/mattel) is living in this world of rainbow high(mga). the creator of bratz created the bratz concept while technically working for mattel. it just so happened that he was on leave. he took the idea over to mga and they went with it. mattel got mad, claiming the work as their own.

the rule of rainbow high can be related to this. whatever work is made at rainbow high stays at rainbow high. if any third party gets involved then you are due to immediate expulsion. this just so happened to bella.

bella/barbie was working on something she wanted to take to an outside source. rainbow high said no. this is our work. bella/barbie took it outside anyway resulting in an expulsion. bella is pink. pink is not part of the initial lineup. she reached the end of her rainbow.

amaya comes in. amaya resembling all things rainbow high. amaya the main character. she is the embodiment of rainbow. her character revolves around everhthing this company has preached for rainbow high. she is new. she is fresh. she is modern. she replaced bella. (no, i do not blame amaya for any of this. amaya is a whole other story)

barbie is flopping. barbie is not doing well. mga wants to take barbie down. mga is dominating the toy isle. they have created many successful lines and will probably continue to do so for awhile. bella is barbie. amaya is mga. amaya took over. mga took over.

Bella Herself

now i do not blame bella one bit for going and doing what she did. yes, she broke a rule. whether or not the rule is stupid, she did it. and she got what she asked for.

but you have to keep in mind who she is. bella is a young girl, age 14/15. at that age... i, too, would’ve done just about anything to work with my idol. someone i admired so much has practically thrown out an opportunity that i’m positive i could win. i would most definitely go for it. and bella did. but the problem was taking a picture. bella is known to be impulsive. we can see this in several different episodes where she wanted to complete the tasks given to her and to help her friends complete theirs. even though jade did her very best to persuade bella not to do it, bella chose to. she consciously chose to. now what i think a lot of people haven’t realized is that bella literally pulled nearly 2 all nighters contemplating on what to do. the first night she stayed up thinking about the internship and making the set. the other night she spent running around the school with jade and taking the photo of the art. this poor girl must’ve been tired. she was conflicted. do you risk your dream school and everything that comes along with it for a summer internship? or do you wait for another opportunity that could possibly never come again? if bella were older and more matured, i’m sure she wouldn’t have done it. but she is young. and she has learned from this experience.

unfortunately... she was expelled on the spot without any warning. we still haven’t gotten any closure on who saw her sneak the picture. that’s very suspicious but then again... it’s probably just poor writing. but with what we can assume, they probably involved bella’s space & privacy to get that information. anyway. bella had no bad behaviour whatsoever prior to this situation. rainbow high is a hard school. they are very tough on their students. they gave bella no chances. she didn’t even have much time to process it, pack her things and properly say goodbye to her friends. it all happened so fast. she said it herself... “i cant believe this is happening” yeah me either

as for the teachers... yes. they are doing their jobs. i have seen this point being made several times and i agree! technically they are! but RH is lowkey a messed up school system. they pressure their students day in and day out to be the very best and do the very best. i get why, but it’s to the point these students are sleep deprived. staying up all night to do assignments and have escape rooms. having to start class five minutes after completing night assignments. so much to the point that jade’s response to the question “what will u so if u pass the runway project?” in Violet’s AMA was “SLEEP!” this school is messed up. working like a big company and claiming these poor students hard work as their own is mean. and these teachers support it by working at this school. they may be doing their job, but they’re allowing this poor situation by being a part of it. this can be related to REAL life in places like media and the music industry. i have little knowledge on it, but you can compare it to the situation with Taylor Swift and how she technically doesn’t own a bunch of the music that she made. i believe it has to do with legal matters, and if i remember correctly something she got involved with when she was only young. yeah. theres that thing again. getting involved when you are only young. same with bella. there’s a direct correlation and that’s where i believe that type of symbolism could potentially come in to play.

this opportunity that was given to bella was life changing. and it was a SUMMER internship. SUMMER. if RH operates anything like schools IRL, they’d have to give their students a summer break. why was it so major to them when bella could still work for.. i mean attend to rainbow high all year then take the summer of for the internship. something that rainbow high could’ve looked good for having!

again, if RH operates anything like an IRL school, schools often pay attention to their students and outside opportunities. opportunities that boost the students status. the better the students, the better the school. with this high-end, once in a lifetime opportunity, bella could’ve gotten it and not only done better for herself but better for rainbow high itself.

bella knows what she did. and i know she realizes the consequences, especially now. but this poor girl has suffered through so much. all for this drama to her exploited on a very popular & very exclusive drama channel.. the vi life. but no way in heck was any of that fair.

Amaya Raine

i don’t wanna dwell too much on this one since i haven’t really seen much drama about it lately and i’ve already said enough before. but amaya is definitely not to blame. she had absolutely nothing to do with bella’s expulsion as far as we know. i remember there being fan theories that she would be the one who had found a way to tattle on bella, securing her own spot at rainbow high. as far as we know, this is not true.

amaya had been wait listed for her dream school. it’s lucky but kind of underwhelming. so the moment she got the call that she finally had a spot in RH, she was beyond excited, not knowing what was ahead of her. oh, yeah, btw, not gonna ignore the fact that they secure a spot for amaya THE SAME NIGHT bella took a photo of the artwork, not knowing she was gonna be caught and then expelled. in her mind, she was positive she wasn’t caught and wasn’t gonna get in trouble. it’s the fact the staff was very prepared for this all under 24hrs.

anyway. amaya was already hella nervous. she seems to be an anxious person and was definitely wanting to make the best first impression. heck, she even made her own outfit so she could stand out! but unfortunately to her surprise, she was greeted with a bunch of frowns and a few dirty looks. she was forced into this situation with absolutely no warning and had to put up with everyone disliking her at first (except our favourite ray of sunshine, our mutual blue bby & our drama chasing diva)

so it’s unfair for amaya to be blamed for all of this when she didn’t even know. yeah, i am sad that jade was viewing her so wrongly. but i cannot blame jade. jade is sorta stubborn and obviously struggles with major change. she lost the one she was closest to and suddenly was forced to adjust to this new girl who took bella’s place. if i were as cold of a person as jade, i’d have that exact same reaction. she didn’t wanna believe bella was gone. she didn’t want to experience this change. she didn’t bully amaya, thank goodness. she just paid little to no mind to her. of course she threw her a couple angry looks and was very brief with her whenever she spoke. but eventually they made up. no one was bullied, no one is mad.

FINAL COMMENT THEN I AM DONE

yea ok if you bully me or anyone else for simply digging into RH lore then you can leave. or i’ll just block of that’s easier for you. some of u only watch at surface level and that is okay! if that’s what you enjoy, k. cool. you do you.

some of us dont watch at surface level and that is also very very okay. some of us want to get as much as possible out of rainbow high, given the circumstances. so we dig into it more than others might. some of us try to find the symbolism or pick up on tiny details that had gone by unnoticed. some of us go as far as redesigning the characters and reimagining their personalities and life at rainbow high. creating fun headcanons and making cool associations. just don’t bully people who do that. don’t get mad at us and tell us “getting too deep into this is worthless” “you’re not gonna get a job in life if you sit and defend a character all day”

news flash, it is some people’s literal jobs to read pieces of art and media and analyze it. english majors literally do this exact thing. heck, it may be more complex than this. but anyway. stop telling people that. can we normalize enjoying this without being insulted for it??? if you don’t wanna enjoy the episodes then okay. cool. you do that. i’ll go analyze my favourite characters and enjoy as much of the show as i can because i find enjoyment in this <33

#rainbow high #rainbowhigh #rainbow high dolls

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royallyprincesslilly · 4 years

Text

Title: Kismet {2}

Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor

Warning: Plot Heavy, Slow Burn, Mild Cursing, Flirtation

Words: 4.9k

Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?

Note: I did something a little different this chapter with POVs. You’ll see it toward the end. Let me know if it was confusing or if you guys liked it. Also there are Google Translations in text. If they are wrong, I apologize. I hope you enjoy this. ❤️❤️

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!! 😘 As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

Previous Chapters: 1 |

-Henry-

He could feel the eyes of those around him. He’d been recognized. You’d think that years of being in the industry, he’d be immune to the stares, whispers, and not so discreet pictures of him being taken. He was not. It was always like the first time. It was difficult for him not to feel self-conscious about it either. Doing a once over of the restaurant, he made a mental note of where everyone who looked suspicious was. Most of them looked away when they saw him looking around, but there were a few bold ones who kept looking and even one or two extra bold who tried to make eye contact while giving the classic seductress lip bite. When that happened, he usually gave a quick, polite nod before looking away, never to look back.

Tonight was no different, except he couldn’t stop thinking about one woman—you. It wasn’t enough that he’d dreamt of you last night in ways that were unexpected seeing how he’d just unofficially met you. He couldn’t explain how he felt. It was strange and new. He’d met beautiful women before, women that were drop dead gorgeous with an equally amazing and impressive body. The physical aspects of you were not what was keeping him enthralled. It was something else, something he saw in your eyes when he held you, something his body felt once he touched your skin, something his heartfelt when you spoke. It was unexplainable at this time, but just because he couldn’t explain it didn’t mean he couldn’t dwell on the feeling.

“Dude, I’ve been calling and texting you all night. What the hell?”

Jean, had his arms stretched out nonverbally, asking, “what the hell?”

“You have?”

“Yeah. Pick up your phone,” Jean finished.

“I didn’t know. I don’t have my phone,” he replied as he leaned back. The eyes of his three friends dropped to the table where your phone was. It looked identical to his.

“It’s right there, man,” William said, pointing to it.

“This isn’t mine.”

“Uh, it looks like yours,” Jameson informed.

“Yeah, but it’s not.”

They all looked confused. Stifling his laughter, he began explaining to them. He knew they were probably going to lose their minds.

“Yesterday, I had a meeting about Witcher, so I’m coming off the elevator on my phone, and I run smack into Aliya Taylor.”

The eyes of the gents around him widened as they sat up more alert.

“Thee Aliya Taylor?” Nodding his answer to Jameson, he gulped his Guinness before continuing.

“She almost falls over, so my reflexes kick in, and I catch her and set her upright. She recovers and gets on the elevator. I pick up what I thought was my phone, but I just spent the last night realizing that this is not my phone,” he finished.

The three of them sat there silently, each thinking over the bit of news he’d just shared. Saying it out loud, it sounded like a plot from a romcom. It was absolutely ridiculous. Things like these never happen in real life.

“So, you have Aliya Taylor’s phone.”

“I have Aliya Taylor’s phone, and she has mine,” he laid out.

Jameson, his oldest friend, slid back with a shocked expression on his face. “Wow. That’s bonkers.”

Releasing a chuckle, he nodded in agreement.

“So, what have you doing on her phone?”

He knew that was going to be William’s next question. He could also guess another one of his questions was going to be about your pictures.

“What you would find on a typical woman’s phone,” he answered.

“So, selfies, nudes, clothes, and makeup?”

The laughter around the table filled the space around them, giving him enough of a reprieve to drink down some more of his Guinness.

“Not sure about the nudes. I saw a half nude then stopped. I felt weird like I was violating her privacy.”

“The better question is, what’s on your phone, mate?” That was when he made a face knowing full well what might be on his phone.

“There might be a few nudes,” he admitted. His friends laughed again, but he didn’t find it funny at all. “Oh Christ, I hope she hasn’t seen them.”

“Mate, Aliya Taylor could be checking out your knob right now and fancying what she sees,” Jean teased.

“Shut up. She hasn’t called. I’m sure she knows by now that it’s not her phone,” he audibly thought.

“Just like you know. Call her,” Jameson urged.

He sat there for a few moments thinking about if that were the right move rather than a text. His friends could see his hesitation. So passed the next five or so minutes with them trying to convince him a call was the best option. With a unanimous decision, he picked up the phone as his friends squeezed in to look.

“Aw, flowers how adorable,” William teased. He ignored their laughter and dialed his number. He had no idea if you’d pick up or not.

The phone rang three times, and just when he thought you weren’t going to pick up, he heard your voice. It was soft and hesitant.

“Hello?”

Silence. His eyed automatically widened as he froze. His friends around him motioned to him, telling him to speak. That was when his brain restarted.

“Yes, hi. This is Henry—Cavill. I bumped into you; we bumped into each other yesterday.”

“Right, yes,” you confirmed in a professional voice. He wondered if you were slightly freaking out as much as he was on the inside. If you were, you sounded nothing but calm and collected.

“It looks like I might have your phone,” he breached.

“And I might have yours.”

“It seems that way.”

The silence stretched again, but it wasn’t entirely uncomfortable.

“Would you like to make a plan to exchange them back? Maybe coffee tomorrow, or brunch?”

His mouth said it before his brain caught it. Once it was out, he cringed. He sounded sleazy with a touch of desperate. It was not a good look either way. Your silence told him you thought the same thing.

“Are you asking me out or to meet up to get your phone back?”

It was a good question, one he didn’t have enough confidence to answer.

“I can’t tomorrow anyway. I’m actually in London right now working. I won’t be back in LA for about a week and a half,” you informed.

“Oh, wow.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry for the inconvenience. If you like, I can have my assistant mail it to you express. You should get it by tomorrow night,” you suggested.

“I would rather exchange hand to hand. My phone has a lot of very personal stuff on it.”

“As does mine,” you added.

“I would suspect so. The most secure thing would be when you return to LA,” he countered.

“Can you go without a phone for that long?”

A smile spread across his face. “I’ll be using yours.”

Your laughter was loud and unexpected. He couldn’t help but smile wider because of it. He wondered what you looked like while you laughed. Catching a glimpse of his friends’ faces, he wiped the smile off his face and shook the thought away.

“Feel free to use mine,” he added.

“And is someone important calls like Spielberg or a Francesca?”

That was when he knew you’d looked in his phone. He wasn’t angry. He was filled with something else—regret maybe. Regret that you’d seen things that he couldn’t explain then and there or beforehand. His friends all had the same look on their faces. It was one that said he’d been caught.

“If it’s Spielberg, yes, answer on the first ring.”

Again, you laughed. You were good for his ego; he thought to himself before continuing.

“Francesca, no need to answer, we have nothing to talk about.” It was the truth. “What about if it’s Tyra Banks or Liam or Jesse. Do I answer?”

The silence stretched for several long moments. He wondered if you would answer, and his friends looked equally interested. What seemed like a long while later, he heard you speak again.

“Tyra Banks answer at your own risk, she’ll pump you for info until you’re blue in the face. If it’s Liam or Jesse, if I were you, I wouldn’t. They have strong jealous tendencies.”

The answer was unexpected, and it was an answer he didn’t quite like. “Who doesn’t these days,” he stated. Neither of you spoke for a few moments after.

“So, a week and a half?”

“Sounds like a date,” he responded. You giggled. He liked the sound of it.

“Date?”

“Yes, a date,” he confirmed.

“I never said anything about a date.”

“I know, but I also know there was some sort of spark between us yesterday, and I know you felt it too.”

Again you were quiet. Yeah, it was bold, but he knew that he wouldn’t get any answers to the multitude of questions he had without some bold move forward.

“You’ll have your phone back in a week and a half. Goodbye, Henry,” you said before you ended the call.

Without knowing he’d been holding it, he released his breath and sat back in his seat.

“Jeez, she’s a firecracker,” Jameson professed.

That’s the least of it, he thought.

~~~~~~~

-Aliya-

Your time in London was hectic. You were all over the place. Your photoshoots took you all over the English countryside. You frolicked in green pastures, posed on trees, in trees. You rode horses and pretended to play cricket. You posed with English roses and having afternoon tea all the while in the latest in fashion, and all dolled up in makeup. When your days began at five in the morning, they didn’t end until ten at night. If they began at night, you were not back in your hotel room until six in the morning.

On the days your modeling responsibilities didn’t rule your schedule you worked within your company. You were still in the midst of putting out your first magazine that you hoped would be up to par with Vogue or Bazaar. The goal was to do what they did, just better, and geared for a more ethnic audience, but you were now working on ways to be a bit inclusive—but not much. You wanted black and brown people to feel included, seen, represented, and heard. It was a lot of work, but you knew it would be worth it. Your launch was scheduled for a few months from now, and your excitement was reaching epic proportions with each passing day.

This project was your baby, you put sweat, blood, tears, sleepless nights, and everything ounce of your energy into it. You sometimes neglected having a life for it, and that included dating. It was what you told yourself was the reason for your lack of dating. At the surface, it sufficed, but deep down, you knew you were full of shit. No one else had to know that, though. All anyone needed to know was that you liked to work, and you were damn good at everything you did. You made sure of it.

With your current phone situation, you used Henry’s phone to do everything. No one recognized the number, and when they saw it, they always wanted to question you on what was going on. You were thankful that whoever you called didn’t have his number, or else the caller ID would say his name whenever you called, then you’d have a lot of explaining to do.

On your fourth day in London, you were sitting in the tub soaking after a long day when his phone went off with a notification signifying a text. When you looked at it, you couldn’t help but smile.

MSG Your Phone: Travis and Jesse have called three times so far. I haven’t answered, but you have an overflow of messages and voicemails.

You smiled and wondered if he was fishing for details. When you reread the message, you tried to pick up on any hint of jealousy. There was none.

MSG Henry’s Phone: Francesca and Abby haven’t called, but the messages are overflowing. Would you like me to forward them?

After barely waiting a minute, another message came in.

MSG Your Phone: No. As I said, we have nothing to talk about. Would you like me to forward your voicemails?

Again you smiled. He was fishing.

MSG Henry’s Phone: Nah. They can wait.

You had to giggle. You didn’t plan on giving him not one detail.

MSG Your Phone: How is London treating you?

MSG Henry’s Phone: It’s fine.

MSG Your Phone: Did the sun come out for you?

MSG Henry’s Phone: Nope. Raining cats and dogs.

You sank deeper into the tub and took up the glass of wine you had rested at the side. After a decent sip, you placed the wine glass back and sighed.

MSG Your Phone: Glad to know mother nature treats you just as how she treats me.

MSG Henry’s Phone: Are you in London a lot?

MSG Your Phone: I mainly live in London. I come to LA for work but am spending more and more time here for work, or on location.

The thought popped into your head of where he lives. You wondered if you’d passed it. As soon as you began thinking about it, you pushed the thoughts out of your head.

MSG Henry’s Phone: Oh, so you’re a Brit. Interesting.

It was a stupid reply. Duh, he was a Brit, the accent in interviews you’d watched since bumping into him made it a dead giveaway. It was the only thing you could think of.

MSG Your Phone: What is that interesting?

MSG Henry’s Phone: I completely missed your accent.

It wasn’t a lie.

MSG Your Phone: You were rather distracted.

You couldn’t help but giggle again. It was adorable how confidant he was. This was not the first display of it. Deciding to throw him off, you shot your final text.

MSG Henry’s Phone: Gotta run, goodbye Henry.

Instead of putting the phone down, you reread the messages. With each message, you found yourself smiling wider and wider until you noted a giddy feeling rushing through you. Nipping it in the bud, you put the phone down and closed your eyes, deciding to focus only on relaxing. Unfortunately, the two hemispheres of your brain weren’t in agreement. One wanted Henry, the other wanted relaxation.

Two days of working and forcing yourself to focus on work and everything related to it found you drifting onto the side of overstressed and worked. Any normal human would do everything to alleviate the discomfort, but you, you did everything in your power to prolong it. You knew what the root of it was, and you didn’t want to entertain any parts of your growing curiosity about him. Though you didn’t want to entertain your thoughts about him, you found yourself two days later sitting on your hotel room balcony with a glass of wine thinking of no other but him.

MSG Henry’s Phone: Why don’t you have a lock code on your phone?

As you waited, you sipped from your glass and stared out to the London Eye. It was one of your favorite parts of the city. Sometimes at night, you liked to ride it and just think about your life. You especially liked having it stop at the top. It gave you such a beautiful view of the city and the lights it always took your breath away.

He heard the chime of the phone in the next room. He turned the flame on the stove down to low, so the sauce he had simmering wouldn’t thicken too quickly and made his way to his bedroom for the phone on the nightstand. When he took it up, his smile was wide when he saw his number and the name he’d designated himself as highlighted. When he opened it and read the message, he couldn’t stop the victory dance that he did around his two-bedroom home that went on for much longer than he’d ever admit to.

When he stopped, he was back in the kitchen, hovered over the counter.

MSG Your Phone: What do I need a code for?

As he anxiously waited for your reply, he put the phone on the counter several inches from him. He hoped this would stop him from sending message after message. When he realized that it wasn’t enough, his idle hands still wanted work, so he went back to stirring his pot.

His reply had you wrinkling your nose. He sounded so flippant about it.

MSG Henry’s Phone: Well, for one, you’re an actor with a lot of private high secret info regarding movies on your phone. Anything can get leaked. For two, this is the twenty-first century, and the average person has at least six pieces of incriminating material on their phones. That incriminating material can end up on TMZ or US Weekly, hell every Perez Hilton.

You couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of that. This was logic to you, logic you couldn’t believe no one else had.

He nearly laughed out loud from your message. This was definitely a concern of someone whose star of fame was up there in the stratosphere. He didn’t consider his fame to be anywhere near that high. Yeah, he had fans that ventured on highly over spirited, but on the ever swinging pendulum of fame, he was somewhere a few notches past middle ground. He was glad for it. Already he found his level of fame to be somewhat invasive and debilitating. He could not imagine dealing with your level of fame.

MSG Your Phone: I’m not nearly important enough for anyone to want to hack into my phone to blast info. Also, yes, this is the twenty-first century, but I am anything but the average man. That doesn’t apply to me.

You liked his reply. It said a lot about him but also left so many things hidden, things you absolutely wanted to know more about.

MSG Henry’s Phone: So, there is nothing on your phone that you wouldn’t want a stranger, me seeing?

You thought back to his pictures and the women in his text history and wondered how he would respond. This time you finished your wine with the raise of your hand and poured the remaining contents of the bottle into it as you waited for his reply.

Immediately his mind went to his suggestive nudes and the messages with Abby and Francesca. Those were the only two things he worried about.

MSG Your Phone: Yes, there are things I wouldn’t want you seeing. A stranger, I don’t really care.

Your message came in almost immediately.

MSG Henry’s Phone: What makes me so different? I am a stranger.

Smiling, he turned off the fire, took up the saucepan and poured the caramelized onion, garlic, butter, and wine sauce over his perfectly prepared steak. After putting the saucepan in the sink for washing later, he walked to the dining table with his steak and potatoes dish. He was still living on a high protein diet to keep himself in Witcher shape.

MSG Your Phone: So I’m a stranger?

MSG Your Phone: Yes. I don’t know you.

He thought about your words for a few moments as he sliced a piece of his steak to pop into his mouth. As he chewed, he knew the right response.

MSG Your Phone: Do you want to know me?

It was bold as hell. You couldn’t believe the words as you reread them for the fourth time. What the hell did you say to that? What did he expect you to say? What did you want to say? The only answer that fits every question was you didn’t know.

MSG Your Phone: Something easier then. Why don’t you have a code on your phone?

Sighing out in relief, you took a few gulps of your wine.

MSG Henry’s Phone: I did, I was in the process of changing it when I bumped into you and never completed it, so both were void.

MSG Your Phone: Oh, so it was fate then.

You almost rolled your eyes into the back of your head so far they got stuck.

MSG Henry’s Phone: Fate?

MSG Your Phone: Yes, fate that we bumped into each other at the exact moment you took the code off your phone and then happened to have lost your phone to me. Fate that gave me ten days to peruse it if I chose to. Fate that gave me ten days to make a plan.

Your smile was widening every second that ticked by. The man was charismatic.

MSG Henry’s Phone: A plan? To what exactly?

His smile was big. This was going just as he hoped. The only thing left for him to do was take it there.

MSG Your Phone: To make you mine.

He wished he could see your face right now.

Gasping for air, you continued to cough. The wine was still trapped in your windpipe. As you struggled for air, you tried to calm your panic. After several moments you found yourself able to catch a full breath.

“Holy shit,” you finally gasped. The man was bold as hell for real. You read the message again, and again each time the shock remained. You couldn’t believe he actually said that. A flirtatious feeling washed over you, and you decided to run with it.

MSG Henry’s Phone: You can’t make something or someone a possession that doesn’t want to be possessed.

MSG Your Phone: I think you want to be possessed.

Scoffing, you shook your head and stared at the London Eye again and looked over the lights of the city.

MSG Henry’s Phone: Are you sure?

As soon as you sent the message, his phone chimed again, except this wasn’t a message from him. It was from Abby. Almost instantly, a sour taste filled your mouth, and your face reflected that. It was like a slap to your face telling you to wake the hell up and come back to reality. That was when your bitch face came out to play.

MSG Your Phone: Pretty sure, but you tell me.

MSG Henry’s Phone: You should call Abby. She’s sent you fourteen messages today, most recent right now. Goodbye, Henry.

Closing out messages, you gently tossed his phone onto the small table on the balcony, grabbed your glass, and looked out over the city.

For the next four days, any message he sent you ignored. The one thought that kept racing through your head was that there were currently two women that were continually texting him. Though you didn’t know the specifics of why the whole situation screamed messy. You didn’t do messy; you didn’t do love triangles or squares, you didn’t do anything that screamed complicated or distracting. You didn’t care how attracted you were to him. You wouldn’t compromise your ideals for anyone—not again.

When he changed his tactics from texting to calling, you ignored those too. You were tempted to answer, and on several occasions, you almost did until your stubbornness triumphed. You were victorious until one night in your room as you soaked in the tub after another long day. His phone rang loudly. Somehow you knew it was him. You didn’t know how, but you knew. When you reached for it and glanced at the screen, you loudly groaned as your suspicions proved correct. Closing your eyes, you tried to decide on if you’d answer or not.

“Hello?”

“Hi.” His voice sounded so damn good, and by the way, your belly flipped, you knew it agreed.

“Hey,” you nonchalantly replied.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“Uh, not really. Not unless you call catching me in the bath a bad time,” you teased.

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Henry quickly stammered.

“It’s fine. How can I help you?”

Yeah, it was slightly cold, but maybe cold was the right way to be. “Hello? Henry?”

You heard him release a puff of breath. You could imagine what it smelled like. You couldn’t picture it.

“Whew, this is the second time I’ve heard you say my name, and it had the same effect as the first time.”

Your belly again flipped. It was becoming a normal reaction to his words.

“What was the effect of the first time?”

He didn’t speak immediately, and after a minute of silence, you wondered if he would.

“So I’m about two weeks away from finishing reshoots and prep for season two for Witcher and I really, really need some time off. I had no idea how much the process had run me down. I am physically exhausted,” he mentioned.

“A lot of action, huh. I saw some episodes of the first season.”

“Nice. Yeah, it’s a lot of working out and fight training. It goes on and on,” he explained.

“Poor thing.” You were teasing him, and when he chuckled, you were glad he caught it and didn’t take offense from your condescending tone. The lite humor worked to ease away any tension in the air between you.

“This is strange. I’m talking to someone on their cell phone while they talk to me on mine.”

“I can see how that would be strange,” Henry replied.

Silence fell between you again. It was a mixture of a comfortable one and one of nervousness.

“I have to tell you before I miss my chance. You have the most amazing voice I have ever heard, and you’re an amazing artist.”

With a racing heart and a wide grin on your face, you closed your eyes and tried to get control over the butterflies in your belly. It took you several moments to get a grip. This was not the first time you’d gotten a compliment like this, but this was the first time it made you feel like this.

“Thank you. That’s—kind of you to say.”

“Just stating facts. I’ve always been a fan of your music,” Henry added.

“Thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome. How’s work?”

You sighed and dropped your head back on the cushion there. “Exhausting. I need a vacation or to stop getting on a plane. It takes a lot out of me,” you confessed.

“We both need a vacation it seems,” Henry began. The way his voice sounded had you lifting your head to read between the lines.

“Are you insinuating that we should take a vacation together?”

“I wasn’t insinuating anything. I was thinking it, though. Seems you read my mind. Sounds like a good idea.”

You snorted as soon as he finished. “How? We don’t know each other,” you piped up.

“What’s a better way to get to know each other than on vacation?”

Your jaw dropped. The man was insane. “You’re crazy. That’s a horrible idea.”

“Tomato, tomato.”

Your laugh was loud and almost uncontrollable. You had to give it to him, his sense of humor was top notch.

“Plus, after our date in a few days, we’ll know each other better,” Henry confidently slid in.

“What date?”

“The date you want to show up for when we exchange phones.”

Usually, this level of cockiness in a man was unattractive. You’d left plenty of them hanging for far less. With him, you found yourself not hating the cocky spiel maybe because it came off as something else—intoxicating confidence.

“I hear an accent, too,” Henry said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“What accent?”

“An Australian one. It’s faint on most words but heavy on a few.” You smiled. You’d thought it had mainly disappeared by now.

“Not many people can hear it,” you clarified.

“I’m good with accents and languages. I know French, some Italian, a few words and phrases in German and Czech.”

You decided to test that theory.

“Combien de temps at-il fallu pour apprendre le français?” (How long did it take you to learn French?)

“Peu de temps peut être cinq mois.” (Not long maybe five months.) Henry responded in perfect French.

A thrill filled you.

"Und Deutsch?”

"Deutsch dauerte länger etwa acht Monate.” (German took longer about eight months) Henry replied in perfect enough German.

“You speak French and German?”

“A very little bit, trust me, it wasn’t my idea. You sound like a native, though,” you complimented.

“Thanks. I try.”

The longer you spoke, the more intrigued you became by him, and the more intrigued you became, the more attracted to him you became. You checked the phone and saw you’d already been talking for almost forty minutes. It didn’t feel nearly that long, though. You could hear his breathing through the phone. It wasn’t heavy breathing, but soft breaths that you imagines were pleasantly warm. When you thought it, you dropped your head back to the cushion in frustration.

“It’s pretty late here, and I have an early call tomorrow,” you began.

“Right, I’m sorry to have kept you up.”

“It’s okay—I guess.”

“All right, have a good night,” Henry ended.

“Goodbye, Henry.”

You ended the call and sank low in the water, but not low enough to wet your hair.

“I don’t need this now,” you groaned out before you slapped your hand on top of the water creating a small wave that splashed over the edge of the tub and cascaded onto the floor. You had to figure out a way to nip this in the bud.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#kismet fic #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x black reader #black fanfiction #henry cavill x ofc #slow burn fanfic

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let-it-raines · 4 years

Text

your wonder under summer skies (13/18)

Summer in Storybrooke, Maine means one thing for its residents: tourist season. This year, for Emma Swan and Killian Jones, it means relationships ending and friendships changing all the while they attempt to figure out just what their relationship is. It’s somewhere straddling the line between friends and lovers, and there’s no guarantee of a soft landing if they fall into new territory.

rating: mature

ao3: beginning | current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 |

-/-

“Okay, so I would recommend doing a buffet. I know a lot of people stupidly think that’s tacky, but it’s not. That way you have a constant flow of food and people aren’t sitting down waiting. The one thing you don’t want is people tapping their foot waiting for you two to be done with pictures so they can eat.”

“Do pictures take that long?” Liam asks.

“Oh my God, Liam,” Anna sighs through the phone, “we have been over this. Yes, pictures do take that long. This is a special day, and you’re going to want to remember it from every possible angle. Plus, you have to have pictures with family and friends, and it’s not a simple thing with a one, two click. Don’t you ever listen? I feel like you have to listen. You better be listening when my sister is trying to talk to you. She deserves a man who listens.”

“Anna, take a breath,” Elsa sighs.

“I don’t know how you’re planning a wedding with this man. I feel like I have to keep repeating myself.”

“You know,” Emma murmurs, rolling her eyes at Elsa, “there is also the option to have all of the pictures done before the actual ceremony. A lot of couples are doing that now. You can have private time with each other so that Liam isn’t seeing Elsa for the first time in front of all of these people, and it can also streamline the time between the ceremony and the reception.”

“But that first look during the ceremony is so special!” Anna whines. “You don’t want to miss out on that!”

Elsa looks up from her phone to look at Liam, and they seem to have some kind of silent conversation. Emma meets with different couples several times a week, sometimes several times a day, and while she’s used to there being questions and disagreements, she��s not used to have the bride’s professional event planner sister asking a million and two questions over FaceTime.

It’s fine, really. Anna is lovely, but she’s a lot to deal with. Emma is so used to spending time with Elsa and it being calm and soothing, so this is throwing her for a bit of a loop.

At least Liam is being nice. He’s been…kinder lately. Emma should question it when he usually likes to be a bit of an ass to her, but she’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Why did she just think that phrase?

Why is that even a phrase to begin with? Who is look a horse in the mouth? Why is it a gift?

“I think taking pictures before the actual ceremony sounds nice,” Elsa finally says, “and so does the buffet. Do you have servers or is it self-serve?”

“We have servers so people aren’t sticking their hands in the food.”

“Perfect. Can you remind me again of the contingency plan for if it rains?”

Elsa and Liam spend another forty-five minutes talking about different options and scenarios with Emma, most of that time spent talking with Anna and listening to plans, but eventually, they’ve covered everything they can and are ready to leave. Emma’s got an appointment with another couple in fifteen minutes, so when Elsa and Liam walk out of her office, she expects them to walk away and go back to work.

She decidedly does not expect Liam to linger around.

“Did you forget something?” Emma laughs, leaning against her doorframe.

“Oh, nothing big. Elsa simply forgot to ask if you were going to bring a date. Anna’s got her obsessing over making sure the envelopes are all addressed correctly, and for some reason she was tripping up over yours.”

“I promise you that I will not be weirdly offended if you guys give me an envelope that says Emma Swan instead of Emma Swan and guest. And tell her not to stress about that stuff. If someone gets offended over how an envelope is addressed, you probably don’t want them at your wedding to begin with.”

Liam chuckles and leans down against the arm of the chair that sits outside she and Mary Margaret’s office. “So, no date?”

“Eh, I don’t know. I’ve still got a month. Maybe I’ll magically fall in love again. Or at least meet a cute guy who would look good on my arm. Or, hey, maybe I can take Killian. He’s a good dancer, would be a hell of a wedding date. I feel like we should probably be each other’s default wedding dates at this point, you know?”

Liam’s smile falters, but it’s just for a second. If she wasn’t used to having to try to read him, she wouldn’t have noticed because just as quickly as it falters, the smile reappears. “He’s seeing someone, you know, so who knows? He might take her.”

“The same someone?” Emma asks before she can stop herself.

“I think so. You still don’t know who she is? I mean – you know, never mind. I told Killian I would stop interfering with his personal life, and I meant it. I can’t keep going behind his back and trying to get information from his friends.”

Emma arches a brow, and she takes a deep breath. Her heart is racing all of the sudden, and she desperately needs it to calm down.

Is this why Liam is being nicer? Because he and Killian had some kind of talk about Liam being too much into Killian’s business? She knew they got into an argument, but how does that translate to her?

Fuck.

Did Killian tell Liam that she was the one he was sleeping with?

No, no, that wouldn’t make sense. Then Liam wouldn’t be asking her if she knew who it was. He can be invasive, but he’s not about to go all FBI or something on her. And Killian wouldn’t do that. It’s against their rules.

“I think that’s probably a good idea on your part,” Emma sighs, pushing off the doorframe. “I don’t know if I’m bringing a date or not yet. Tell Elsa to stop freaking out over the little things, and if Anna gets to be too much, I’m always here to talk about the practical side of things.”

“Thank you for all of this, by the way.”

“It’s my job, but I’m happy to do it. Now go, Elsa is waiting on you, and I’m sure Killian is tired of manning the office by himself.”

“Please,” Liam laughs, “he and Skipper are probably enjoying the silence.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t going to say that. I’m technically supposed to keep my clients happy. Once I’m off the clock, though, all bets are off.”

“I understand. Goodbye, Emma.”

“Bye.”

Emma waves him away, and as soon as he turns the corner down the hall, she sees her next couple. They’re early. They almost always are, and she thinks they might have the same enthusiasm as Anna does…if not more since they ask for yet another tour of the entire grounds because they’re just not sure of what exactly it is that they want yet.

It takes some kind of herculean strength not to scream since this is the fifth tour she’s given them, and their wedding isn’t until next July.

That’s a year that she has to deal with them.

A year.

Why does she do this again?

Oh, yeah, because most days it’s not that bad, and she usually doesn’t go down the wormhole that is thinking the entire wedding industry is a sham and wondering why people get married in the first place.

Is it for the wedding or the actual marriage?

For at least half of her clients, it’s only for the wedding. She’s obviously not some kind of expert on healthy relationships and only does this because she isn’t qualified to do much else that will pay her this well, but at least she knows that it’s fucked up.

When she finally gets the Taylors out of the club, Emma sighs in relief.

And her stomach growls.

It’s the middle of the afternoon, but she hasn’t eaten all day. Damn, she could go for whatever it is they served for lunch in the dining halls today, even if it’s probably cold right now. Emma checks her phone to make sure she doesn’t have any emails or last-minute appointments, and then she heads down the hallways and through the nearly empty main dining room to get to the kitchen.

Her phone dings in her hand, and she stops walking to look at it.

Killian: Why is my brother asking you if you’re bringing a date to his wedding?

Emma: He said something about Elsa being worried about how to address the envelope.

Emma: Wait. How do you know about that?

Emma: Did he tell you that I said I was bringing you? Because I was joking? Kind of. I don’t actually have a date or plan on having one, but you would technically be the most fun date of anyone in the city.

Killian: Why, Swan, are you asking me out?

Emma: Shut up.

Killian: I would love to go with you, for what it’s worth. I promise I’ll be a better wedding date than your last one.

Emma: That’s not much of a bar you have to leap over.

Emma: Do you want to get dinner tonight? I get off at seven.

She waits for the little bubbles to pop up immediately like they have been, but they don’t. Emma doesn’t think anything of it and stuffs her phone in the back pocket of her jeans and starts walking toward the kitchen again only to see Neal and his dad sitting at the table closest the kitchen entrance.

Dammit.

She should have gone through the back doors, but this way was closer.

What the hell is he doing here?

This is where she works.

Yeah, it’s a public place (if you pay a ridiculous member’s fee, which they unfortunately pay), but something being a public place doesn’t mean he can show up whenever he wants to.

This is her space, not his. They broke up, and there’s got to be some kind of unwritten rule that he simply doesn’t show up to her place of work.

He’s already always at Granny’s, which is bad enough, and then there was the fair and the one time she saw him when she had to go to Target for some new pillows.

But this? This is different?

They could have lunch at fifty different places, and the asshole knows it.

He also knows that she’s just spotted him because he’s staring right at her.

Shit.

Does she turn around and walk away or does she walk straight toward them, ignore them, and then head into the kitchen where she hopes Neal has the decency not to follow her in?

Emma doesn’t really get to make the choice, though, because Neal is standing from his chair and walking right toward her, the smile she used to love plastered on his face.

Was it always that disturbing? Did it always look so much like his dad’s?

“Emma,” he calls out. She bites her tongue. She cannot say anything dumb here. It could get her fired. His family are members here, and she doesn’t think Regina is going to give her a pass because of her personal business with them. In fact, she knows that she won’t. “Hey, how are you doing?”

“Wonderful,” Emma says. It’s not a lie. She’s not doing wonderful at this particular moment, but in general, she’s a lot better than she was the last time she was this physically close to him. “Are you enjoying your lunch? Is there anything that I can get you?”

His head tilts to the side, and his smile widens. “Oh, come on, Ems, you don’t have to be in work mode with me. We’re friends.”

Emma grits her teeth and takes another deep breath. She’s sure everyone in Storybrooke can hear them. Her dentist is going to be thrilled. “We are not friends, Neal. You ended any chance of that when you started sleeping with someone else and started working with your dad again. We’ve been over this, and I really don’t feel like repeating myself again.”

“You’re not still mad about that, are you?”

Seriously.

How is this the same man that she fell in love with? Was she blind to all of this? To how absolutely inconsiderate he is about so much?

“I don’t let you take up that much space in my head anymore, but you can’t honestly believe that I’m just going to forgive you for all that you did.”

His eyes roll. They actually roll.

He’s the one who fucked up, and he’s the one who is trying to act like they’re friends. Yet he’s also the one who’s exasperated by her pushback.

What an asshole.

“It’s not like you waited around long after you ended things before you started fucking Jones? And come on, you always told me there was nothing going on between the two of you, but that’s obviously bullshit.”

What the hell?

How does he…no, there’s no way that Neal could know. No one knows, and there’s no way Neal, who never paid any attention to the little things in her life, could know.

“I’m not sleeping with Killian,” she lies, “and even if I was, it would be none of your business since it would have happened after I left you.”

“I saw you two walking around at the fair, and he got fucking defensive over it when I suggested it to him. He didn’t say it, but come on, it’s pretty damn obvious.”

Emma swallows the lump in her throat so she can focus on her breathing. It’s the only thing she can focus on right now so she doesn’t punch Neal and knock all of his teeth out.

What an asshole.

How dare he confront Killian like that? Why did Killian not tell her?

You know what? It doesn’t matter why Killian didn’t tell her. What matters is that Neal is the worst.

“Neal,” she says slowly, her teeth grinding, “you lost any right to know who I am or am not sleeping with the moment you fucked someone else, so please, unless you need something from the club that only I can give to you, leave me the hell alone.”

He blinks, almost like he’s taken aback by her, and his smile falls.

Good.

“You don’t have to be a bitch about it.”

She opens her mouth, a curse at the tip of her tongue, but there’s a voice in the back of her mind that’s telling her this isn’t worth it. He’s not worth it. She’s got to stop letting him take up so much space in her head like she said she’s not. He doesn’t deserve it.

So, not for the first time, she walks away from Neal.

She walks away, knowing there’s only a half of a chance that he’ll bother to follow him, and she heads toward the kitchen. It means that she has to pass Neal’s dad, and she can feel his eyes on her.

The thing is, she doesn’t care.

That part of her life is over, and she’s not going to lie to herself and say that a part of her doesn’t still hurt and won’t hurt when she has to see Neal and Tamara, but she can’t keep dwelling on it.

This summer has been strangely good, and maybe it’s not all that strange since she’s cut Neal out of her life.

“Emma,” Harry, their head chef, exclaims when she walks into the kitchen, her heartbeat racing, “I’m just about to start dinner. Do you want something in particular?”

“What did we have for lunch? I can’t remember the schedule.”

“Pasta salad.”

“Do we have any of that left?”

“In the fridge. Feel free to help yourself.”

Emma picks up a cookie from the half-empty platter next to her. “You know that I will.”

“A cookie before dinner? Are we celebrating something?”

Emma laughs and takes another bite. “Just having a good day is all.” “Well, kid, I hope that continues for you.”

-/-

“Hello?” Emma calls out as she pushes open the front door of Jones Brothers’ Boating. The obnoxious as hell bell goes off, so everyone downstairs should be able to hear that someone has come inside, but no one comes out of any of the offices, not even Skipper.

Huh.

“Killian,” she says as she starts walking down the hallway. “KJ! Are you around?”

There’s still no answer, and when Emma checks the back offices, there’s no one in any of them. She decides to walk up the stairs to the apartment, but when she tries to turn the knob, she realizes that it’s locked.

She’s got a key, could easily let herself in, but if the apartment is locked, that means no one is home.

Where the hell are they?

Emma pulls her phone out of her back pocket and hits Killian’s name. It rings once, twice, several more times, and then his voicemail message comes up.

Well, damn.

This is probably why she should have called first, but Killian never texted her back about the two of them getting dinner. He’s almost always free, and if he isn’t, they’re usually plans she can join in on, but he’s obviously MIA tonight.

Emma swipes through her phone again and calls Elsa.

“Hello?” Elsa questions.

“Hey, Elsa. Have you heard from Killian today?”

“He’s in the back of the ice cream shop. Do you need him?”

“Why is he in the back?”

Elsa groans, and then Emma hears some kind of curse that definitely didn’t come from Elsa. “One of my machines broke today, and when Leroy couldn’t fix it, Killian said he’d give it a go. I don’t think it’s working out for him. Hold on. Let me get him for you.”

“Oh, you don’t have – ”

“Killian,” Elsa yells, her voice booming through the speakers, “Emma is looking for you.”

“Fuck,” he mumbles.

Well, that sounds pleasant.

“I’m pretty sure she could hear that,” Elsa laughs.

“Aye, I know. I didn’t text her back about dinner. Give me the phone.” There are a few hushed murmurings, and then Killian’s voice comes in clearer. “Sorry, love. I’m afraid I can’t get dinner tonight.”

“Oh, well, that’s okay. I’ll pick something up and bring it to Elsa’s.”

She hears him click his tongue, and she’s probably imagining things, but she swears that he’s silent for a few seconds too long. “You don’t have to do that. We can do it another night.” “It’s really not a problem. I’m at your place right now, anyways. I can get us salads from Zoey’s. Does that sound good to you?”

“Uh, yeah. That’s fine. I’m not really sure when I’ll have time to eat.”

“Well, maybe my brain power will help us figure out how to fix the machine.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“You okay?” Emma asks, suddenly worried she’s overstepping here.

Does he not want her to come over?

No, that would be ridiculous.

“I’m perfect, love,” Killian sighs, his voice audibly more upbeat now. “I’ll see you when you get here, aye?”

“Yeah, see you when I get there.”

-/-

Elsa’s store is a mess.

Well, the front is still perfect. All of the round tables are clean and perfectly in their spots, the black and white as classic as it always is, and Elsa is still serving customers and doing custom orders for cakes and birthdays. She’s on the phone when Emma walks in, but she smiles and nods to the door that leads to the back of the store.

It is decidedly not perfect.

Mostly because it looks like Killian has taken one of Elsa’s machines apart piece by piece and he has no idea how to put it back together.

His hair is pushed off his forehead, sticking in at least thirty-seven different directions, and his t-shirt is sticking to his skin from his sweat.

He might be the only person to ever sweat here since it’s usually the coldest place in town.

Elsa’s air-conditioning bill must be insane.

“Hey,” Emma greets, putting their salads down on the table and walking up to Killian, pressing up on her toes to kiss him. He doesn’t kiss back at first, but then he’s there, his lips softly sliding over hers while his hand settles on her hip, squeezing her. “I’ve come to your rescue with food and another set of hands.”

“You’re my savior, love.”

“I know.” She kisses him again, this time much briefer, before sitting down on one of the chairs Elsa keeps back here. “Where’s Liam? Why is he not helping?”

“I’m better with fixing things. He’s manning the shop.”

“No one was there when I stopped by.” “What time was that?”

“A little after seven.”

Killian nods and pulls his salad out of the bag. “He was taking Skipper out. Thanks for this, by the way.”

“Not a problem. You think you’re going to be able to fix this?”

“I think I’m nearly there. I’ve tested it out a few times, but it’s all been for naught. Elsa is going to bloody kill me if I keep giving her hope and then take it away.”

Emma pulls their salads out of the bag, taking the lid off hers and pouring some dressing on before putting the lid back so she can shake it. “She’s got the other machines, though. Can’t she still make flavors?”

“Aye,” Killian sighs as he starts tinkering with the machine, “and she’s got a pretty good stock of all of the flavors. It’s not an emergency, but she wanted me to look at it before she called someone to come fix it. It apparently does not come cheap.”

“Look at you coming to the rescue. Getting those brownie points.”

“And access to the freezer.”

“That will balance well with our salads.” Emma stabs some lettuce with her fork. “You will never guess who was dining at the club today.”

“Cindy Crawford.”

“What?” Emma laughs as she takes a bite. “Why would Cindy Crawford be there? Also, that is the most random guess.”

Killian pokes his head out from behind the machine. “You said to guess. You didn’t say it had to be reasonable.”

“Okay, a reasonable guess then.”

“August Booth.”

“No, but that would be interesting. Is he back in town?”

“I have heard the rumor. So, who was dining at the club today?”

“Neal.”

Killian drops whatever tool he’s using, and it bangs against ice cream maker before clattering against the floor and landing near her foot. “Fuck.”

“Exactly my thoughts,” Emma laughs, kicking the screwdriver back to him. “But, you know, it wasn’t that bad. He was an asshole, of course, but it felt kind of good telling him to fuck off. He told me he thought we were sleeping together, which he apparently told you at the fair.”

“Uh, yeah, he did mention that. I denied it, of course.”

“He was always jealous of you. I don’t know why, but he hated when we spent time together.”

“Well, love, I am devilishly handsome. That’s bound to make any man jealous.” Emma rolls her eyes. She can’t see Killian’s face, but she just knows he’s smirking. “None of our actual friends have picked up on it, so there’s no way in hell Neal actually would. He doesn’t pay enough attention to me, never has.” Emma takes another bite and slams her hand down on the table. “But you know what? I don’t care. He can do whatever he wants, because I’m moving on. I’m happy and busy and life is pretty damn good even if I do have to take you as my date to your brother’s wedding.”

She keeps eating, waiting for Killian to say something, to tease her really, but she just hears him muttering to himself as he keeps working.

“You’re still cool with that, right? I know you said you’d love to, but you know, if you start dating someone else, go with her. I don’t mind going by myself.”

Killian pops out from behind the machine and walks toward her, leaning over the table and placing a soft, lingering kiss on her forehead. “There is no one I’d rather go with than you, love.”

“You don’t have to. Seriously. You know our deal.”

His beard scratches over her forehead, and he pulls away. “I know. I’d still be honored to go with you.” He sits down across from her as he opens up his salad. She gets distracted watching him. The lighting in here is all fluorescents, and it shouldn’t be flattering, but Killian’s tan still shows up, his eyes are still ridiculously blue, and there’s still something so charming about his smile. She watches it as it falls into a flat line, almost curving down into a frown, but then she sees the curve tick upward. “I’m glad you’re happy, Emma. I’ve always wanted that for you.”

She nods, unsure of what to say. “You too, KJ. You know what would make me extra happy?”

“What?” “If you could steal me some of Elsa’s birthday cake ice cream later.”

“Your heart’s desire, love. That’s all I want you to have.”

-/-

tag list: @qualitycoffeethings @mrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @jonirobinson64 @snowbellewells @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @sherifemma @galadriel26 @galaxyzxstark @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @spartanguard @searchingwardrobes @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @onepunintendid @bluewildcatfanatic @superchocovian @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @mariakov81 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @lfh1226-linda @andiirivera @elizabeethan @captain-emmajones @csalltheway @itsfabianadocarmo

#your wonder under summer skies #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfic #captain swan

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zackcollins · 4 years

Text

dear life || vince dunn

masterlist

Author’s Note: I was in such a mood to write for Vince. Like. Everything inside of me was telling me I had to write for this dork. So, uh. I did. I am but a person that can’t withstand personal peer pressure after all. The idea was based on a prompt I found online. It’s a little different but that’s because I got the random inspiration about halfway through. Writing is wild and that’s all I’m saying on that. GIF credit to nylanders!!

Warnings: There’s a brief mention of anxiety/anxiousness, so I’ll include that here. It’s nothing inherently graphic but I’d rather be safe than sorry. Other than that, I don’t think there’s anything. It’s honestly a sweet af fic if you ask me.

Word Count: 1.3k+

Title: Dear Life by High Valley

Additional: Feminine reader! I decided to go with a feminine reader this time because I’ve done a bunch of gender-neutral readers in a row. I thought it was time for a chance of pace. A feminine reader also fit the random inspiration I had a little better. I did see that video about Sammy loving country music and only playing it to annoy Vince... the title is from a country song. What of it?

When Vince had suggested this as a date, you jumped at the opportunity to accept. Laser tag was something you enjoyed doing when you were younger. Getting to go again as an adult--with the man you loved no less--would help you relive some fond childhood memories.

You had been preparing for this date for the better part of two weeks. It was the middle of summer so you had been chasing your siblings and some friends around the forest with water guns to practise your aim. None of them complained because they all enjoyed the quality time they got to spend with you. It had become the bonding ritual that everyone looked forward to every day.

On the day of the actual date, you were beyond anxious and excited. Vince has booked your session for the early afternoon. You spent all morning pacing vigorously around your apartment, too wound up to sit still for any length of time. During the vigorous pacing, you managed to sweep and mop some of the floors. You told yourself it was to keep occupied so you wouldn’t explode from all the anxious energy.

Right around the time, Vince said he would arrive to pick you up the front door opened and closed. You had been pacing the hallway between the bathroom and bedroom at that moment but quickly rushed toward the foyer. Much like you were expecting, Vince was standing there. He was twirling his key ring on one of his fingers and smiling softly at you.

“Someone looks nervous,” he chuckled softly, palming the keys. He walked over to you and placed a kiss to your temple. “If it helps, I invited some of your friends, your older sister, her wife, and their twins.”

You relaxed a little, leaning up to kiss Vince on the cheek. “Thank you so much, babe,” you said. “I don’t know why I’m nervous. I guess it might be because I haven’t been laser tagging in years.”

Vince ruffled your hair before he stepped back to lean against the door. “This date is about having fun. As long as you have fun, I don’t care if we win or lose.”

You smiled softly as you stepped into your running shoes. Once they were tied, you put your hair in a ponytail with the hair elastic that you had been keeping around your wrist all day.

Pushing off the door, Vince grabbed the knob and twisted it open. He motioned outside of it with his other hand.

“Ladies first,” he said, smiling.

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed your Blues hat from the hook beside the door before walking out. Once you were out in the apartment hallway, you put the hat on backwards to match the way Vince was wearing his hat. When Vince appeared beside you, he kissed your cheek.

“Backwards hat?” His voice had a playful lilt to it. “My girlfriend really knows the way to my heart.”

You scoffed and playfully punched his shoulder. “Dork.”

Vince chuckled. He grabbed your hand as the two of you walked down the hall toward the elevator. Holding his hand made you feel warm all over. There was just something about it that made you feel whole.

Inside the elevator, you leaned your head against Vince. Vince squeezed your hand tighter to show that he appreciates the show of affection you were giving him.

When the elevator doors slid open on the ground floor, you lifted your head off of Vince and looked him in the eyes. Vince stares back with loving intent and smiled fondly. You squeezed his hand as the two of you walked out of the building toward his car.

Inside the car, Vince turned on his normal playlist. Even though it wasn’t music you would’ve normally listened to before you had gotten with Vince, you had grown fond of it in the time you had been dating. All of the songs made Vince happy and sing along; seeing that made you happy and made your heartstrings pull tightly in your chest.

You held hands with Vince the entire drive to the laser tag arena. He had become the master of driving with one hand because he loved holding your hand with the other. Part of you wanted to scold him and tell him to drive properly every time he did this; the other part of you enjoyed the intimacy of this moment too much to ever ruin it.

Once inside, you found everyone else Vince had invited was already waiting for you. When your niece and nephew spotted you, they rushed over to give you a hug.

“Aunt (Y/N)!” They both said in unison.

“Taylor! Jordan!” You bent down to hug them. “How are my two favourite people?”

“I lost a tooth!” Jordan opened her mouth, pointing at an empty space on her bottom row of teeth.

“I got an A on my science test!” Taylor said, smiling widely.

You held up both of your hands; Jordan high-fived one and Taylor high-fived the other. “Well done, guys! Aunt (Y/N) is proud of you!”

Standing back up, you glanced at your sister and her wife. They both had smiles on their faces. You smiled back before you turned your attention back to Vince. He had a soft smile on his face as he watched Taylor and Jordan rush back over to their mothers. You quirked your eyebrow and smiled quizzically at him. Vince chuckled and motioned toward Taylor and Jordan.

“We should have some.” You noticed his face turn the slightest shade of pink as he spoke.

“We’ll discuss it later, alright?” You said, patting Vince on the cheek. Vince nodded and leaned down to kiss you. When Vince pulled away, he kissed the tip of your nose. You chuckled and playfully punched his shoulder. “Dork.”

Vince grinned. “I’m gonna go set up the teams.” You nodded as he walked toward the reception desk. It was only a few minutes before he returned. He was smiling faintly as he wrangled everyone together. “I split up the couples because I wanted things to be interesting.” Nobody raised a word of protest, so Vince continued. “The board will show in a minute what team you’re on. The gear will be brought out—“ Vince was cut off by a door swinging open loudly.

Everyone turned their attention in that direction and noticed one of the employees wheeling the gear carts over. Vince smiled and motioned for everyone to go to the employee to get properly fitted for gear and a gun.

Once everyone was outfitted with the correct gear and a gun, the employee directed everyone into the arena. Your team was placed by the entrance while Vince’s team was brought further into the arena. When the employee walked by you to exit, she mentioned a siren would sound when it was safe to start the match. You nodded and thanked her as she walked out. When the siren sounded, you jumped. You hadn’t been expecting it to sound like a hockey goal horn.

You quickly gathered your bearings and ran around the arena. The first person you encountered was your sister. Using the aiming practise you had been accumulating over the last few weeks, you expertly shot her sensor. She cursed as she tried to shoot your sensor with no luck.

“The gun doesn’t work for a least a minute after you’ve been shot,” you said, smirking. Your sister cursed again as she ran past you.

Just as you were about to turn away to follow her, you noticed Vince rounding the corner. Instead of shooting his sensor, you grabbed him and shoved him against the nearest wall. Vince made an unceremonious noise before looking down at you.

“Warn a guy?” He chuckled, smiling fondly.

You didn’t respond. All you did was lean up and capture his lips in a sweet kiss. Vince wrapped his arms around you, his laser gun digging uncomfortably into your back. When you pulled apart, Vince was breathing with a slight pant.

Looking up at Vince, you smiled. “You know how we said we’d discuss having kids later?”

Vince tilted his head but nodded. “Yeah, why?”

You stepped back from Vince and raised your laser gun, pointing it at the sensor on his chest. With a sweet smile, you pulled the trigger.

“I’m pregnant.”

#vince dunn #vince dunn imagine #vince dunn x reader #st louis blues imagine #st louis blues #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey imagine #feminine reader #writing #fanfiction #hockey fic #fic #fanfic #writing fanfiction #laser tag #established relationship

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whaler13bg · 4 years

Quote

The fascinating thing about Taylor is that she built her brand, music, and stardom herself. She started with a simple Myspace page, where she built a platform that fostered a one-to-one connection with fans because she intuitively understood that this would accelerate her brand reach. She responded personally to each and every comment that she received on that platform. And any time she would get a request for an autograph or a photo she would comply. Taylor once even did a thirteen-hour meet-and-greet session—which turned into seventeen hours—where she personally signed autographs for and took selfies with three thousand fans. She knew that every fan who stood and waited in line to receive an autograph or photo would be a fan—and brand advocate—for life. These brand advocates would spread and share her music and message with all their friends. Even though Taylor ended up physically meeting only three thousand people, she probably reached around a hundred thousand people that day. Each interaction she had was not limited to a single moment: fans would not only tell their friends about it but would also post images, autographs, and videos that they took at the event on their own social channels. The average Facebook user has 338 friends, so if each of her fans shared those images she could potentially reach up to 1,014,000 people. Fans would go out and spread the word for her. They’d tell all their friends and social connections, “I love Taylor Swift!” or “I just got this awesome photo or autograph.” Taylor still makes time for events like this. She attends fans’ birthday parties, weddings, and bridal showers. In 2014 she showed up at a bunch of fans’ houses with Christmas gifts and more than eighteen million people viewed the videos of the Christmas gift deliveries. In 2017 she invited select groups of fans to her homes in London, Los Angeles, Nashville, and Rhode Island for listening parties of her sixth studio album, Reputation. These kinds of events are Taylor’s ways of giving back to her fans, while generating massive attention and interest. This works for her because she’s genuine. She doesn’t just do this to manipulate the system. Not only is she smart, talented, and appreciative of her fans’ time, she has a good heart. And it’s this heart that has fostered brand loyalty, which grows like wildfire. Yet Taylor can only be in so many places at once. In the beginning of her career she was living in Nashville. Although she could have an autograph signing and connect with three thousand fans in that location, she couldn’t always make time for fans in other parts of the world. Her fans in New York, London, China, Hong Kong, India, and Japan were not able to connect with her. By focusing on her online presence, however, she could connect with people all around the world—and quickly. Before meeting with my team, Taylor had spent around $75,000 to $150,000 on an all-Flash website that required two days to make a change every time she wanted to update it. When I looked at the analytics, people were spending less than thirty seconds on the website, and 90 percent of people were bouncing off the homepage as soon as they landed on it. I wanted Taylor to maximize the potential of her website, to go back to the fundamental idea behind her brand—one-to-one interactions. With the right strategy, she could leverage her website to foster stronger connections among her fans. My pitch was that with the technology platform my team developed, we could build an entirely new site on spec for her in six hours. In a meeting, I showed her how we could dynamically change any element of the website in real time. She could change the background, move the navigation, change out the navigation, and control every element of that website, which gave her the power and creativity to constantly evolve how she wanted to express herself to fans. For example, every time she launched a new album, she could quickly redesign the entire website within minutes to match the aesthetic of the new album. This ability to rapidly change the website allowed her to foster a more powerful connection with her fans by allowing her to express herself how she wanted, when she wanted, in the same way she was able to on Myspace early in her career. Over the course of two years, using the platform my team built along with some brilliant community-building technology platforms that we partnered with, we collectively took the time that fans spent on her website from less than thirty seconds to more than twenty-two minutes. How did we create such an uptick in time spent on her site? By giving fans a reason to stay there. We facilitated communication between the fans because we realized that Taylor herself could only talk to so many fans at once. So we built a community where fans could communicate with each other about their love for Taylor and her music. We also built a system where fans could turn their Facebook profiles into Taylor Swift fan sites in less than sixty seconds. It automatically extracted fans’ names and photos along with Taylor’s photos and album covers so they could have their very own fan sites. The fan sites were built on the same technology platform we used in creating Taylor’s website, so fans were able to customize and personalize all the elements of a fan site. Fans felt connected to Taylor, as if they were a part of her team—they could use the same platform that she was using and take any aspect of it and recreate it themselves. In a few months, more than thirty-five thousand fan sites were created using this platform. I don’t have exact figures, but I’m sure this was a record for the most fan sites ever created for a specific artist at the time. Witnessing how well fostering stronger connections with fans worked for Taylor’s brand planted a seed in my head. I learned that if fans felt connected, they were willing to share content, messages, and products with everyone they knew. Once I realized the power of this, it became a critical part of my whole approach. I realized that you don’t need to spend millions of dollars on marketing to reach the masses—you just have to get people to share your messages for you.

One Million Followers: How I Built a Massive Social Following in 30 Days by Brendan Kane

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bumbershots · 4 years

Text

A CERTAIN ROMANCE

CHAPTER FOUR: SILENCE COMES AND GOES

Author’s note: Hello! We continue with this, I would like to thank everyone once again for all the likes and reblogs the story has gotten so far, couldn’t be happier! Enjoy (:

Story masterlist ** Word count: 2.9K **

It is possible that Harry is ignoring the big elephant in the room, as he spreads some jam in his crumpet, well aware of Fernando and Jack exchanging knowing looks. He takes a bite of the savoury treat and hopes none of them dare to confront him, at the same time he wants to be questioned about why he hasn't called Alma yet.

Harry spent the last two weeks grumpy and frustrated.

He's called his therapist way too many times. He has no idea where he went wrong in his healing process. They were back to square one, whispered his tired heart.

Jack is surprised too, his friend got on so well with Alma at the party and apparently even went the extra mile asking for her number then he spent the following fourteen days acting as if she didn’t exist. Didn't even text her like Gemma suggested. He sips his coffee and sighs for the millionth time that day.

The musician is infuriated at himself and desperate that he wants to have Fernando demand an explanation for his behaviour towards his sister. Harry's not a confrontational guy, but he's going mad. Might be losing it. He wanted to scream at the two men before him that he did plan on calling Alma, but then he got so sad. Now he's afraid it's too late.

"Do you want another one?" Fernando holds the plate with crumpets in front of Harry who takes one more and thanks him before grabbing the jam. "Do you reckon you'll be man enough to call my sister within the next couple of days?" Harry chokes on his food while Jack's laughter booms through their home.

Nobody has ever called him out like that. Harry's still unsure whether to be grateful or scared. Maybe a bit of both he thinks after composing himself again from the fit of coughs, he knows Fernando is still waiting for an answer.

"Is she upset about it?" A hint of relief and pride linger on Harry's voice. Jack shakes his head, knowing that he's avoiding the question. Something he's very good at.

"That's not what I asked." Fernando's clipped tone leaves no room for the musician to beat around the bush anymore.

"I was really nervous about calling her, kept putting it off until days turned into weeks... I'm not sure how to go about it," he plays with his rings and looks away from the inquisitive gaze of his companions.

"How did you get Taylor to go out with you?"

"What?" Harry and Jack ask at the same time.

"You must've asked her I guess," Fernando shrugs. "What is so scary about Alma that puts you off? Are you interested in just a shag and you're worried she'll decline or tell the media about it?" Harry is shaking his head vigorously and the dark haired architect leans a bit closer towards him, "you're so full of sh-”

"Alright let's take a break," Jack's soothing tone brings his house mate back from the rage path he was following. But Harry knew that he was right.

It had been a year already, he moved to a new house, one where his ex never set foot into and still her ghost was everywhere. He has this crazy need to destroy everything that can relate to her. Her favourite cardigan is kept away in a box full of Polaroids and books that are all her.

The real reason why he didn't dare to call Alma is because whatever he felt at the beginning of his previous relationship, or any other one, was at least ten times less intense, than what he was feeling now. Seeing the menace before them, his heart and mind decided to leave him courage-less towards the situation. It's less painful to think what could've been than to know it and see it being taken away from you. Again.

But he deserves to be happy, that's what Gemma reminded him the other day.

"I gotta go," Fernando announces before rising from his seat, walking inside the house and upstairs to his room. Jack tries to tidy up the table a bit, not daring to look at his apparently mute friend. When Fernando comes back down he steps outside to the patio where they had brunch, one last glance to a very ashamed Harry and he sighs. "Brigit's Bakery Classic Afternoon Tea Bus. Alma’s been dying to get tickets but never has the time to actually book it," he explains adjusting his jacket's collar. "It's not too late." With that he turns on his heel and leaves the house.

Harry takes their mugs and places them in the sink, he notices Jack is going around the kitchen putting away the butter and milk in the fridge.

"What are you waiting for Romeo?" The blue eyed man asks, stopping in front of a blushing Harry.

They're both quiet for a minute. Harry's heart is racing and can feel his hands get clammy. He hasn't felt someone's faith in a long time, and he's not sure if he's happy or pressured that Fernando and Jack are pushing him to call Alma, he doesn’t even know if she will give him a chance. Harry's wishing to be the kind of guy to take out his mobile and make the call, maybe even crack a witty joke that will have Alma laughing in that loud way he remembers and not be awkward with asking her out on a date. As if he wasn't completely mortified by being rejected.

Harry was sure he would ruin it, not just the call but the date and everything else that was actually going to happen between them without even trying first.

"Hello?" She answers after the third ring, confused at the unknown number calling her.

"Yeah it's me," Harry nods to Jack who urges him to finish whatever sentence he's trying to form, "I believe I owe you some coffee."

"Harry?" Alma tries to fight back a laugh. A wide smile splitting her face after recognising who is the mystery caller.

"Yes! Sorry I forgot you didn't have my number." Jack is red with second hand embarrassment for his friend and decides to start the dishwasher just to keep his eyes from the train wreck happening in his kitchen. "I'm sorry for not calling sooner."

"You're calling now, 's all that matters... I'd love to get that coffee. Next Thursday works for you?" He nods feverishly and remembers he's on the phone.

"Of course, I'll pick you up at five if that's alright."

"Make it half past five please, that's when my shift ends. I'll text you the address." She throws the latter smoothly as an excuse to initiate conversation until they meet again and Harry is oblivious about it.

"Sure great, perfect I'm... really looking forward to seeing you," he plays with the tea towel on the counter, his back turned to Jack, a million butterflies fluttering in his stomach when he hears the coy chuckle his confession got out of her. "Have a good day, see you later."

"See you later, Harry" Alma's goodbye is full of hope and endearment, just like the one he got before she walked away from him that morning after Freddie’s birthday party.

After ending the call, he mentally scolds himself for dreading it so much. It went so much better than expected, even got a laugh out of her. Perhaps Harry needed to stop making decisions based upon his fears and more taking in consideration the other person. He always thought he knew best, it's what he's been told for so many years and although he needs to be making big choices most of the time, perhaps now he could share that responsibility. Felt dead nice for a change.

"That wasn't so bad." He admits to Jack before drying the now clean dishes with a towel.

"I'm proud of you, now tell me, where are you guys going for that coffee?" Jack's eyes are full of curiosity and excitement, it's impossible for Harry not to feel a chill go down his spine at the prospect of planning the date. He thinks about what Fernando suggested, but it would be too obvious that it wasn't his idea entirely.

Alma deserves something exclusively planned by him.

"Don't know yet, perhaps somewhere nice and quiet" he ponders and his friend agrees.

Last time Harry had a proper first date was about two years ago or so. He cooked aubergine parmigiana following Jamie Oliver's recipe and baked some biscuits for dessert that he enjoyed with his companion overlooking the Pacific Ocean from his home's balcony. Back then it seemed to be the right choice to keep it low-key, a simple dinner at his, no risk at all to be bothered or watched. But Harry knew that at some point it got old, being overly discreet was easily mistaken for being ashamed of the relationship. That kind of thing can do a lot to someone's confidence, little by little until it's all too much to bear.

If he could only learn not to care about the world's prying eyes.

Harry doesn't want to drag anyone into the scrutiny of the media until he knows it's an incorruptible bond. The inevitable thought of forever, something he believes might not exist for him, at times. He did think Taylor was it, even Kendall for a while, which is why he dated more publicly back then, until she came along and the love Harry felt was so grand it made him overly protective of them. Countless times he tried to explain that this was the first time something was working in spite of all the circumstances that came with his life and he was trying to cherish it, keep it to himself. Nurture it until it was as tough as old boots.

That night was spent writing down ideas for that first date. Number one was The river café, near Putney Bridge, a place free of paparazzi. Number two, Rail house café, lovely spot to share dinner. Number three The sanctuary café, located in a beautiful building with a quirky environment. Number four and his personal favourite Lola's bakery, their service was so warm and intimate, he remembers the cinnamon Chelsea bun and his mouth waters instantly. So, drawing a big circle around the fourth option he smiles before going to bed that night.

Saturday morning finds Harry at his grandparents’ old home, carrying a bag full of ingredients for a vegetarian lasagna he is planning to cook for his grandfather and his mum. He immediately banishes Anne from helping in the kitchen. She observed him follow the recipe, cooking for no longer than ten minutes the garlic, thyme and aubergine, and then crumble over the chilli carefully. He lets her grate the Parmesan when the sauce isn’t thickening and reducing like it was supposed to. With a bump of her hip, she nodded towards a couple of tomatoes, Harry smiled before tipping them in, breaking them with a spoon and five minutes later, the sauce was ready.

His mother is a marvellous woman, like the good son he is, Harry doesn't want to make her sad, ever. The last time he visited her, recently broken hearted, they spent it baking, cooking, eating sweets and drinking hot chocolate at the rear terrace. Once he had enough of moping around, he decided to make it up to her and create good memories from that visit. They explored the local parklands as if it was the first time, shared ice cream, got tipsy on cheap red wine and chatted from dusk till dawn.

A few hours later, after eating the delicious meal and tidying up the kitchen afterwards, Harry watches his mum talking to his grandad, holding his shaky hand in hers and caressing it in a soothing way. The elder man’s Parkinson is getting worse with time, he feels so useless, specially because it affects his favourite people. He wants to know what his mother is thinking when she joins him back in the kitchen. There is some anguish dancing in her kind eyes, but Harry knows better than to push her to share something she is not ready to.

"I have a date next Thursday," he chokes out, in hopes of distracting her, and it works. Anne's head whips towards her youngest child, evidently shocked and yet proud. It's been years since Harry shared that kind of information with her.

"A proper date?"

"Yes," he wants to add how nervous it makes him. "I dunno how serious it'll get... just met her once, properly I mean, we saw each other on the tube's carriage three times prior to it. Coincidentally of course, Gem said it is something straight out of a film."

"Who is she?" His mother is giving him that look, the one that says how giddy she is to know absolutely everything about the person that got her son so skittish, that he started to rearrange the containing of the cupboards entirely.

"Her name is Alma," he doesn't know where to start, if he spills all the ways in which he thinks she is wonderful, they'll end up pulling an all-nighter.

"And she's a...?"

"Cashier during the week, Spanish teacher on the weekends and occasional interviewer for her Youtube channel." Anne raises her eyebrows, impressed and wondering why such a busy girl agreed to go on a date. Must like him a lot of course, she thinks watching her son pour hot water on a mug, and dunking a tea bag in it afterwards.

"Where did you meet her if not on the tube?'' She is curious and weary. This wouldn't be the first time her youngest spawn overlooked certain things from strangers. Very little things in Harry's life were coincidences nowadays.

"Remember Jack Robinson?" his mum nodded, how could she forget the cheeky chap that helped Harry escape almost every night from his dad's house in the summer, just to go skate in Southbank's center until midnight. Anne admitted to not liking the bloke for a while, but gave him another chance after watching him grow into a responsible adult. "He's in charge of my home renovation, extension whatever it is called. Invited me to Freddie's birthday party and she was there." The dreamy look on his eyes when reminiscing the moment brought out a wide smile on his mum's face followed by her loud laughter.

"Oh Harry, you've got that look." it was the truth. He looked completely gobsmacked by his mother's reaction, but he couldn’t deny the peace he felt when knowing that she was already fond of the girl that he couldn’t get out of his mind.

"It’s too soon to tell!” He doesn’t want to dive into it, not yet.

"How did you really meet? I want all the details." Anne asked, taking a seat at the coffee table and Harry told her everything.

From the first glance he stole her way to the last phone call he had yesterday at Jack and Fernando's house, his hands flew several times to tussle his hair and the dimple on his left cheek was exquisite, when telling his mother, how she asked him to dance with her. He spared no detail, from her intoxicating Moschino perfume to her raspy accented voice. By the time he finished, his mum's mug was empty but her heart was full. For so long she wondered if she would ever witness the beauty of Harry in love again and enjoy first-hand the way he spoke about that person in the sweetest manner, the high-pitched tone of his voice when finally admitting how nervous he actually was about this first date.

"Right, well in that case, stop thinking about how everything is going to go wrong." Easier said than done, Harry thinks but nods. "I'm sure whatever you planned will sweep her off her feet." Anne knew how much of a romantic her boy was, he went all out in that department. His best quality and Achilles heel.

"If the cupcakes from that place don't... I could literally do it." Harry plucks a banana from the fruit bowl before them and narrows his eyes when his mum rolls her eyes at him playfully.

His mother's reassurance made him feel less hopeless, the next day when they went to Sheffield's city center, she even picked out a couple of new mugs. 'Just in case we have new visitors at home.' Harry groaned but failed to hide the dreamy look in his eyes, he even crossed his fingers behind his back as he watched her pay for the cups. The thought of Alma meeting his mother in the near future —and the rest of his loved ones— excited him to an unfamiliar degree, like the first time he saw the seaside with his own eyes at a very young age, like that time he sang in front of a considerable amount of people, like a warm hug of his late grandmother. The idea that she may like him enough to agree to a second date is stuck on his brain, despite that they haven't even survived the first one.

Anne saw him enjoy himself the rest of that afternoon and the next morning before he had to go back to London. She sighed and watched him drive away, standing in her front door for a few more minutes, rejoicing on the memory of Harry's toothy grin. Usually she was careful and waiting for the other shoe to drop, but not this time. There was a bit of certainty in the unfamiliar situation, something she couldn't quite put her finger on, she decided to patiently wait and see. She hummed a familiar tune while putting away the new additions to her crockery. The same song her son decided to play on his journey back home.

Qué será, será. Whatever will be, will be. The future's not ours to see. Qué será, será.

///

Let me know if you like the story! *** Join the taglist!

///

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#harry styles fanfic #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles ou #harry styles series #harry styles oc #harry styles fan fic #a certain romance

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xxx-cat-xxx · 5 years

Note

absolute top favourite tony h/c fic recs?

Thank you for the ask and sorry for taking so long to answer! I have a recommendation section here on my blog, but I extended it a bit and posted it below:

Cat’s Tony hurt/comfort fic recs

Long works

If you’re up for a dark, violent, and incredibly touching and well written novel in which Tony and Peter are broken and put back together countless times, go for How to repair a broken heart by InfluentialPineapple. In my opinion, it’s one of the best pieces of literature ever written anywhere, even outside of the fanfic-realm. It describes a journey on which Tony and Peter slowly grow together, and although it´s terribly sad and extremely whumpy, you can see the love the author has for their characters in every single line. Injury, illness, violence, torture, anxiety, PTSD, this one´s got everything, so please heed the TWs.

Dark Memories by @trammelsb: This story is centered around child (sexual) abuse. But it is so much more than Tony suffering through flashbacks and panic attacks (although there is a great deal of that) and being comforted by his team members, especially Bruce, his partner. It is about Tony going through a great deal of character development, learning that he is not to blame for what has happened. The author doesn´t shy away from all the heavy topics, but she also never ceases to treat the characters with respect, In the end, it seems to be a story about not giving up, and despite all the pain it causes when you read it, the feeling that stays is that it´s worth to keep fighting.

Arc Tremors by @rose-on-the-mountain: 44 epic chapters of Whump and the kind of fluff that is not fluffy at all, rather makes your heart overflow with emotions. It´s Avenger-family centric, including Pepper and Rhodey and wonderful robot characters, themed around an illness that forces Tony to go through a difficult heart procedure. Everyone’s shadows and traumas get their due, and it balances darkness and light admirably well.

One Hell of a Show by MillyVeil: Clint and Tony get kidnapped and tortured. Heavily. This is one of the physically most brutal whump-fics I know - Milly is like the Tarantino of fan-fiction - but god, it´s well done. TWs for detailed descriptions of rape and violence.

Resistance by thegraytigress: Tony and Steve are captured by the Kree and held in a concentration camp-like environment for months. This is a slow-built, well thought-through love story with a lot of pain and a deep exploration of Tony´s and Steve´s characters as well as their emerging relationship. It has one of the best and most realistic aftermaths to traumatic experiences that I´ve ever read. It’s basically a book worth of heavy, heavy, heavy physical and emotional whump. Please mind the TWs.

She’s my Ride Home by OfMonstersAndMe: The most beautiful recount of how Nebula’s and Tony’s friendship develops in the 23 days they spent in space. Lots of great hurt/comfort scenes and spot-on characterisation.

450 Feet Under by Veldeia: Tony is trapped in a cave with no way out. The Avengers are on the way to get him, but when he gets seriously injured, the rescue mission becomes a race against time. 15 chapters of absolutely satisfying whump, snark, and feels. Background Stony. Simply brilliant!

Short(er) Works

Basically all Tony fics by @builder051. I especially like this Pepperony Christmas fic and this Nat & Tony cave anxiety fic.

Strong Enough by Ranni: Steve, Tony, and Clint are held prisoner, but the real danger begins when their captors abandon the prison to let them die in their cells. Injuries, torture, pneunomia, great dialogues. Platonic relationships between the three men, really touching, but not cheesy. Ranni is one of my favourite writers, and all her other stories are equally intruiging. Monsters and Beloved Companion also have a lot of Tony Whump.

Five Times Bruce is Not That Kind of Doctor™ + One Time He’s Perfect For the Job by @whumphoarder and @awesomesockes. The most amazing mix of humour and whump you’ll ever find. I love all their fics, so some more of my Tony Whump faves are The After Party and Desperate Times.

@taylortut writes beautiful and touching fics in which Tony gets whumped around other Avengers. Mostly h/c with illness or injury (and some adorable daily-life drabbles).The stories are generally light-hearted, but not at all superficial. I still can´t decide which one is my favorite because I love all of them, so I´m putting up the general link to Taylor´s Blog. Find her here on A03.

The Minor Fall, the Major Lift by sahiya: This one is about Bruce coming back to the compound after Civil War, trying to pick up Tony´s broken pieces. It has the best characterization of Tony, Bruce and Rhodes I´ve seen in a while now. Everything about this fic seems fragile, the characters, the conversations, the shaky comfort they manage to build. It´s slow-paced, and it´s not a fix-it-all, and this is what makes it so good. Sahiya is one of the best writers out there and her series “Me through Him to You” is printworthy.

Bruce and Goose´s Truce by @twentyghosts: After Infinity War, Tony is saved from space. Bruce medically examines him while being heavily flirted at, then they bathe together, and Tony cries, and Bruce holds him tight. Everyone is more than a little broken, but it´s okay, because they have each other back. More Tony Whump in Cold, Comfort and Unmasked.

nimentia by TinyFuryCloud: Tony and Steve have been married for more than 20 years when Tony is diagnosed with Alzheimer´s disease. This story is so terribly well done. The whole process of Tony slowly disintegrating, slowly getting lost, but somehow, somewhere, still being Tony, is recounted in precise detail with just the right mixture of matter-of-fact descriptions and emotions. Also, A+ characterisation of everyone who is and was part of Tony´s life, including Peter and Jarvis.

Hubris by @writingromanoff: Tony gets kidnapped and tortured by Justin Hammer. Tortured, as in forced to walk for days and days in the desert without a drop of water, and that´s just the beginning. When Steve finally shows up, Tony doesn´t even know whether he´s real anymore. I still can´t decide whether the whump or the whump´s aftermath is better in this one, both are very well described. Heed the TWs (torture and humiliation, obviously, as well as ED behaviour and others). By the same author: somno, the best concussion fic in the universe, and Blue Lips, Blue Veins, which is on some other level of genius alltogether.

Just a rather very intelligent system by @darkestsight: Seven instances of Jarvis taking control over the suit and saving Tony´s ass without anyone noticing. Not all of them are sickfics. Chapter 3 is my personal favorite and contains a physically and emotionally beaten-down and extremely tired Tony; chapter 5 has him dealing with PTSD and chapters 6 and 7 involve him getting injured. I liked the idea of it and enjoyed the interactions between Tony and Jarvis.

Pressure Point by ratherastory: Another migraine fic, with a very precise description of the pain Tony´s in and a nice amount of Starkasm. Steve as caretaker. Can be read as Stony, but doesn’ t have to. Pain and vomiting.

Home by @saber-wing: All Tony wanted was a cup of coffee. But then Thor’s Asgardian monster pet decides to try and eat Tony’s leg for breakfast. Excellent whump, Avengers family feels and a lot of humour. The author has many more amazing whump fics!

I Can´t Exactly Hold Your Hair Back by SirSapling: This is based on the comics and not the movies. It features Tony with cancer and Steve taking care of him on one of his bad days. I like this one for its slow whump build-up. Stony. Tags for migraine, vomiting, mentions of cancer.

Bust a gut, Tones by @whimsicalethnographies: Tony has appendicitis and Peter is the only one who realises it. Perfectly balances between humour and seriousness.

Fool’s Luck by @msermesth: Steve arrives on his doorstep exactly three hours and twenty-seven minutes after Tony finishes the last word of his eulogy. LOTS of pain. TW alcohol abuse, angst and suicidal thoughts. This is short, but extremely well done.

don’t let the blue skies fade by @blancheludis: This starts as a mission-gone-wrong fic with a perfect whump setting (of course Tony has to hide his injuries from everyone) and character depth that focuses on team dynamics and the evolving relationship between Tony and Steve.

Side Effects by discipulapauper: Steve and Tony are stuck in the desert, and Tony discovers that the serum causes unexpected complications when Steve doesn´t get food and water for a long time…Nice whump scenes, good characterization and mostly non-cheesy, non-stony dialogue. Featuring heat stroke symptoms and hallucinations.

Presenteeism by Veldeia: Tony thinks it is a good idea to send an empty suit along with the team on a mission while riding out his hangover alone somewhere in the middle of Russian nowhere. Too bad his hangover turns out to be something worse…

Mohini´s prompt fill for Nov(emeto)ber 5 by @mohini-musing: Tony is sick and Bucky doesn´t really know how to handle it. A short but greatly written fic with emeto and fever, no WinterIron.

My own fics : 40+ stories of physically and/or emotionally hurt or sick Tony

#fic rec #fic recs #hurt tony stark #sick tony stark #tony whump #tony stark whump

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stonerbughead · 4 years

Text

Maria watches friday night lights (#26)

5x03 here we are, Julie’s bad decisions are piling up! (I watched 5x04+5x05 too, just gotta edit all my ramblings into coherency.)

under the cut:

Wow the level of Lions pride there now is is truly amazing. It’s wild that Buddy now owns this East Dillon watering hole! Weirdly like...growth? Given how many different types of people are gathered to celebrate this team that was revitalized only a year ago? Wild.

Uh oh, why does Vince’s father getting out of prison seem like a bad thing. God things were finally going well for him!

Also love how I was equally as disturbed as Vince was by his mom cleaning, knew something was up!

Omg the video with Maura went viral! 2,000 hits. That’s like everyone their age right? 😬

“We didn’t do any of this crap when we were kids.” Tami’s look of “yeah right” made me lol

“You think maybe people change? You changed.” I was about to say it but then Vince did: “I don’t know. I ain’t gone to jail.” Bc the problem is — the prison system ensures that people remain in a permanent underclass once paroled, making it nearly impossible to escape the cycle. so unfortunately it seems very unlikely Vince’s dad changed for the better while in a prison, which is an inherently violent and traumatizing place to be, let alone for five years when he already had a track record for treating your mom like trash...oh babe.

Oh nooo Buddy Jr. is smoking weed. West coast, brother! Lol

Yikes this is really sad, Tami is like trying to subtly be like to Maura, ‘sooo did seeing a bunch of guys passing you around while drunk on video like...maybe traumatize you a bit?’ And Maura’s like ‘WE WERE HAVING FUN HAVE YOU EVER PARTIED.’ Hello, internalized misogyny and a need for therapy, plz honey. Seems like her parents are a lot angrier than she is!

“daddy issues.com, I feel you” is literally what I nervously sang out loud at Vince and his father reuniting.

Omg they’re forcing the girls alone to listen to a really boring lecture on alcohol? This just doesn’t seem effective.

Holy shit two of the football players were making fun of the video.....? Disgusting. Rape culture is the fact that people are making fun of a girl being passed around like a rag doll!

The TA giving Julie a C- bc he’s “spent time with her” and “knows she can do better” is super manipulative and creepy and oh boy I hate this harmful dynamic. He’s literally GRADING HER PAPERS. Nope nope nope.

oh god not the ol “weekly salon for promising students the professor just so happens to host” trope! OH GOD

Ooooh making Jess equipment manager??? Tami is the best. Aw Jess is so excited! I’m so glad that within five seasons they included a character like her who is a girl who also grew up with football and loves it more than some of the guys on this show do!

Ooooh they’re doing shirts and ties instead of jerseys on game days and community outreach. Mmhmm ok revive your image

Vince is losing his confidence and motivation as a captain now his dad’s home noooooo

Lol I knew Buddy was gonna blame the weed on “that hippie Kevin.” So predictable.

“You know maybe it’s not about you and it’s not about Pam, it’s about your son, who happens to need you.” YES ERIC TELL HIM

“Nobody said being a dad’s gonna be easy.” OOH OOH Eric give my dad one of these talks next

“Girls in locker rooms are bad ideas.” I can’t. Lol Tami got lil toddler Grace to say “think about it, daddy!!” She doesn’t play nice.

LMAO I have never related to Vince more than in this moment: “did you talk to your dad?” “Yep.” “how did it go?” *sprints away without answering*

Okay here we are, douchey assholes at the ~salon~ and Julie with a glass of champagne and a devious smile looks like she’s on a mission.

“You must be so proud to have such a distinguished wife.” Oh Jesus TA’s wife’s away on a “sabbatical in Boston.” I see where this illicit romance is going and THANKS I HATE IT

Oh geez Vince doesn’t like Jess being equipment manager? She looks so cute and excited!

Oh boy, Maura is clearly going through some shit, she is relishing in being caught. I know that Tami is judging making out in a supply closet as a concept, but it can be hot—however, in this particular case, i have to agree on not romantic.

“Everyone thinks that I’m married but I don’t feel like I am.” Lines men say before they cheat on their wife with an underage student under their tutelage they shouldn’t be pursuing even if they’re single.

“You’re an awesome girl, Julie Taylor.” Key word ‘GIRL.’ Now he’s saying he feels “comfortable with her” and “if it were a different time and a different place.” This is what grooming sounds like.

Ewwwwwww

Oh noooo Julie you’ve been in college for like five minutes and you’ve already fucked a married TA. Oh honey NO.

Poor Vince. So much trauma between his mom and his dad.

Wowwww the transition from Vince fighting with his parents to walking in suit and tie past all the fans with signs 😭

Yes Eric reiterating he’s proud of Vince and so are his teammates after he goes off — I love how he can like tell something is off with him. He shuts the door and gets Vince to explain the home situation in like five mins.

“He never taught me how to better! How am I supposed to be better?” Omg yessss I feel you babe 😭

Oh god is Vince’s dad showing up gonna cost them this game

NOPE he just did an INSANE touchdown instead!!! Go Vince! “They call that the Tinker shuffle. They get a flag for excessive celebrating and who can blame them?”

“That was a hell of an effort. That’s character, Vince.” Awwww Eric’s so proud of him. His dad is sad. Welp, no thanks to you.

Omg their 3 and 0 East Side cheer at the bar sounds so much like the cheers our predominantly Black football team would do at our pep rallies I love it. This team has so much more heart and soul than the Panthers.

Omg Buddy Jr. is coming back to town???? Intrigue.

TA apologized and and acknowledged he knew it was wrong for teacher-student reasons! Yikes! Bc you know it’s gonna happen again!

“Only 17 years old and you’re already better than I ever was.” Damn Vince’s dad apologizing for not asking to move in after seeing him shine at the game, #growth

“Tonight for the first time in my life I knew what pride felt like. I mean, boy, that was crazy out there. You the man for real.” OMGGGG VINCE IS CRYING wow 🥺

#maria watches friday night lights #mine #friday night lights 5x03

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satinwulf · 4 years

Photo

✦ ▓ AND WHO GOES THERE? oh, it’s just [ SANSA STARK ]. some say [ HER ] resemblance to [ AHN HEEYEON ] is almost uncanny, but the [ TWENTY-SIX ] year old has been in the capital for [ TWENTY-SIX YEARS ]. many suspect that they are the notorious [ ASSOCIATE ] of the [ STARK ] family: perhaps that has made them [ RESERVED ] && [ CIRCUMSPECT ] of late, when they used to be so [ WHIMSICAL ] && [ SANGUINE ]. during the daylight hours, [ SANSA ] can be found working as a [ FASHION DESIGNER & BOUTIQUE OWNER ], but when night falls over king’s landing, they are best remembered listening to [ THE ARCHER BY TAYLOR SWIFT ]. may the gods be with them in these dark streets. ( mowgli. twenty-four. cst. she/hers. )

STATISTICS.

full name: sansa elethea stark.

moniker / nickname: princess, sans.

gender && pronouns: cisfemale, she / hers.

dob && age: december 23, 1994. 26.

zodiac sign: capricorn.

ethnicity: korean.

sexual orientation: bisexual.

romantic orientation: biromantic.

mafia affiliation: associate to the stark family via familial ties - sansa does NOT partake in anything further than simply being known as a stark.

occupational history: former socialite turned fashion designer. current owner of the satin wolf, an upscale boutique featuring her designs.

financial status: sansa comes from wealth, but has also amassed her own funds through her business - albeit, it is easy to do so when you don’t have to pay rent.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.

face claim: ahn heeyeon, ‘hani’.

height: five feet, eight inches.

physical build: tall and slim; sansa is not very toned nor muscled, her body is very much so smooth lines and long limbs.

eye colour and shape: brown, almond.

hair colour and style: currently strawberry blonde, formerly many different colors, as sansa expressed herself through having it dyed previously. it is often worn straight and down when she isn’t working, and pulled into a messy bun when she is!

usual expression: stoic.

accent and speech style: sansa has a very soft voice, very saccharine and sweet by its very nature. she has no blatant accent, and speaks often in run on sentences.

distinguishing marks / characteristics: any scars, tattoos, piercings.

clothing style: very street chic but also dependent on the occasion - she dresses for the life she wants to have and live.

jewellery and accessories: earrings, necklaces, hats, scarves - any and everything is on the table when it comes to accessorizing the perfect outfit. sansa never considers herself fully dressed without her apple watch, earrings, and a silver wolf’s head locket necklace.

FAMILY:

father: eddard stark.

mother: catelyn stark, nee tully.

siblings, if any: robb, arya, bran, rickon.

extended relations: hoster & minisa tully, edmure tully, brandon stark, lyanna stark, benjen stark.

significant other(s): none, currently. formerly a fiance.

children: none.

household pet(s): a female merle great dane named boleyn, “bo” for short.

FAVOURITES.

colour: blue.

weather: a sunny, but cool fall day.

food item: red velvet cupcakes.

beverage: peach lemonade.

time of day: mid - evening.

television genre: drama.

PERSONALITY.

hobbies: painting, baking, reading - and occasionally writing.

pet peeves: sansa loathes loud chewers, people who refuse to put effort into their outward appearance, and people who think ketchup and ranch go on everything - or anything at all.

phobias: spiders, rats, snakes.

allergies: penicillin.

mbti type: enfj, the protagonist.

enneagram type: 4w3, the enthusiast.

positive traits: whimsical, sanguine, clever.

negative traits: reserved, circumspect, fretful.

morning routine: up by seven, morning walk with her dog, shower, breakfast, begin work by nine, sharp.

beauty routine: multi - stepped, always beginning with primers and concealers. sansa is a bit of a makeup enthusiast; even if she’s just at home working, she prefers to have some level of it on, as she feels it’s yet another creative and artistic outlet . . . even if it is just for herself.

sleeping habits: sansa has always been a heavy, deep sleeper, even as a child. she can fall asleep in the blink of an eye, and be out for hours without even a hint of discomfort. she used to be the person who was up all night, and tended to sleep all day - now she’s asleep by 8:30pm most nights and up by 7:00am.

living space && home: a high rise loft apartment, kept impeccably clean and decorated in a modern contemporary style, with many hues of gray and light pastels.

all the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put me together again, ‘cause all of my enemies started out friends.

sansa attended king’s way college and graduated with a bachelor’s degree of fine arts, having majored in fashion design. her graduation present was the satin wolf, a boutique of her own to showcase her designs. it is located in neutral territory, and operated by staff hand selected by sansa herself.

the death of hoster tully was a sad affair for her, and yet, sansa’s grief was also met with a sense of relief. that with her grandfather no longer pulling strings, the pressure of being brought into a life she did not want might wain.

it is her intent to never become involved further than she is currently with any of the syndicates, even her own family’s.

dancing under lights since she was seventeen. her brain’s flooded with ketamine, high from every party, low from self - esteem; it’s selfish but she never sleep. honestly, she needs a little sympathy.

the socialite daughter, beautiful and charming, always interested in the next party - the next event. sansa had a penchant for attention, late nights spent out drinking and dancing even when she less than legal; it made her feel happy, feel free. it was a way to forget that things could be dark and grim - to forget that her parents, her siblings, nearly everyone she knew was involved in a lifestyle that made her stomach curl. so she danced and partied, smiled wide for pictures, found a boyfriend that enjoyed the same things she did - one who wasn’t interested in what her family’s name could do for him . . . or so she thought. when he asked her to marry him, she cried tears of joy, and things were perfect. just like they always were for sansa.

until one night a few months ago, when she and her fiance were leaving a club - drunk and stumbling, clinging to his arm with practiced ease . . . when two rough hands that weren’t his pulled her away. into a darkened alley, where accomplices met and held her at knife-point. they wanted to know about her father. her uncles. her mother, aunts, grandfather. stark plans, stark anything - gravely voices that wondered how many pretty pennies they could get if they just took her off the streets now. held her until they paid, and maybe they’d just kill her anyways. the rough brick of the building at her back digs into unmarred skin, leaving it scratched and red - prick of a blade just centimetres away from the flesh of her neck, threatening to cut it open and leave her bloody.

she can’t figure out where he is, the man who’s supposed to love her - seemingly vanished into thin air the minute things had turned sour. sansa is convinced of the worst, mascara tears trailing down her cheeks, because this must be it. the end of it all.

reprieve is the sight of one man, then two, crumpling to the ground. a familiar face appearing in the dimly lit alley as the knife at her throat clatters to the ground and her freedom is given. alive but shaken, sansa hasn’t been the same since.

i used to be a darling starlet like a centerpiece. had the whole world wrapped around my ring. i flew too closely to the sun that’s setting in the east, and now i’m melting from my wings.

returning to a normal life post incident - post trauma - has been easier said than done. now reclusive in nature, stowing herself away for days in her high rise loft apartment, sightings of the eldest stark daughter are said to be few and far between. she no longer frequents her own boutique, working instead from home and through various intermediates to ensure everything is well controlled; sansa only appears when it’s absolutely necessary, when business requires a gentle, steady hand and cannot be managed from afar.

custom designs are still available, but often very hard to come by. sansa is incredibly selective with who she’ll meet in person with, and thus, only those who can guarantee her trust have been able to get them.

sansa does, however, outfit most of the stark syndicate in gear that is both fashionable and functional. including safety measures & fabric a little more durable than most. this is generally the extent of what she’s willing to do for the syndicate, the idea of being involved in violence is absolutely terrifying to her, especially after everything she went through without even being more than a child of known members.

she still is unaware of her ex-fiance’s involvement in the attempted abduction - if he was working along with the men, or if he was just cowardly enough, uncaring enough to have let her be pulled from his arms. she hasn’t spoken to him much, outside of ending their relationship as a whole, the truth isn’t worth the extra pain it may cause, or so she’s convinced herself for now.

wanted connections !! i may send some of these into the main after a bit if they aren’t filled just because i’m #needy.

judas . . . this would be sansa’s ex - fiance! i did write it off a tweaked and modernized version of her relationship with joffrey but it definitely doesn’t have to be him. their relationship was seemingly picture perfect - and likely too good to be true. they were frequent party and club attendees together, and truly, was based off of the fact that being together was akin to the high that came with endless drinks and fun. ideally, he would have just been using sansa to hopefully siphon information or even to gain an in to the stark family - the possibilities are endless and i’m ?? here for them? sansa romanticized the fuck out of him and their relationship, ignoring any and all warning signs until things went bad the night of the after club incident. essentially she’s ghosted him, aside from mailing back his ring and a letter telling him it was, in very few words, over. the finer details are very much so up for discussion and interpretation so y’know, run wild.

white horse . . . whomever saved sansa from the alley - no gender requirements because we love equal opportunity ass kickers in this house. they had at the very least an acquaintanceship with sansa in the past and after their act of heroism, sansa’s sort of attached herself to them in a very idealized way? not necessarily romantically but very clingy, she doesn’t want to be a burden but also it’s very hard for her to not instinctively shift into thinking of them as her protector and she just needs and wants to feel safe . . . all of the time. taken by dacey mormont.

pink pony club . . . sansa’s #squad. their relationship(s) may be slightly strained from sansa shifting into recluse mode, but ultimately they would be the people she spent the most time with previously. dancing, studying, coffee dates, all of the close friend things. bonus points for friendships from childhood to now, because we all need the montage of childhood sleepovers to sansa showing up at their house at 6:00 in the morning because she can’t sleep and she brought coffee, also do they have time to talk about how she can’t stop shaking and she just needs a hug.

also if you’ve made it this far, ‘sup i’m mowgli and i told myself i wasn’t allowed to join the discord until i finished my intro because i have the attention span of a goldfish and it still took me all day ?? anyways, i’m gonna be sneaking myself on in there soon but y’all can feel free to also just add me @ mohglee#0602 ty ty <3

#vixere:intro #vixere:task #c : / / biography .#c : / / completed task .

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liliah39 · 5 years

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For the one shots, what about reader is a fifth member of Queen and John cheats on her, and so they break up. And a month later at a concert just before it ends, John grabs the microphone and starts talking about how sorry he is and then “Your My Best Friend” starts playing from Freddie Brian and Roger. And John walks up to her and whispers how sorry he is. And the crowd starts chanting “Take Him Back” and reader takes him back and they hug and kiss. Sorry that was long.

Glimmer (Chapter 1) : John Deacon x Reader

A/N: This oneshot is actually going to be the beginning of a little 4-5 chapter John x Reader Mini-series! It has nothing to do with CLGOL, but I have some other asks for John oneshots that seem like they could all be worked into the same storyline, so I figured I’d do that. This one is for you, my love @deakysmisfire -C

Liliah39 Masterlist

Word Count: 3.3K

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

September, 1976:

You and the boys were performing in Hyde Park tonight, news stations stuck in every corner waiting to grab one of the five of you in hopes to get a new piece of information about the band. You were sitting in your dressing room with your hair and makeup just finished as you slipped into your first performance outfit, sighing as you once again were upset by John’s absence.

Nothing would ever compare to the heart wrenching feeling you experienced a little over a month ago when you wandered back to yours and John’s hotel room after a crazy party following a concert to unlock the door and find him drunkenly fucking another girl.

A girl who looked like you.

Same hair color.

Same skin tone.

Even same body shape.

It was like an out of body experience as you watched him pounding into her from behind as she was bent over the bed. A gasp of disgust and heartbreak left your throat as you slammed the door, tears flooding out of your eyes as his movement came to a halt, head turning to look at you in the entryway, his eyes growing wide, immediately pulling out of the girl and stumbling to find his pants. He looked at you. He looked at the girl. He looked at you again.

“Fuck.” He muttered. “Get out. Get the fuck out of here now!” He screamed at her. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“I thought I could get you to think I was her! I wanted to know what it was like! I’ve been following you for years now, and you still chose her over me!” She cried as she pulled on a shirt, slamming the door behind her.

“I don’t even know your name!” He slurred.

“John,” You shuddered. “What the fuck?”

“Y/N please, I didn’t mean it,” he pleaded, slurring his words as he stumbled over to you.

“You drink too much.” You managed to get out as you hurriedly gathered your belongings to get out of his hotel room as soon as possible.

“Baby, you know this isn’t normal for me,” he cried. “I think she drugged me.”

You let out a laugh in disbelief at his seemingly absurd comment. “Yeah, right John. I know how the other three are. I can’t believe I thought you were different.” You cried.

“Y/N, Baby, please. We’ve been together for three years, Baby please don’t do this,” he cried as he sat on the edge of the bed, face in his hands as he realized what just happened.

“I didn’t do anything, John.” You retorted. “Never have, either. I’m leaving because of what you just did.” By the way you glared at him, if looks could kill he’d be dead.

“You’re leaving me?” He cried, springing to his feet.

“Yes, John, what else to you fucking expect me to do? I just walked in to see you fucking another girl!” You cried as you ran to the door.

“Wait!” he said, grabbing your wrist. “I thought she was you.” He cried.

“You’re pathetic.” You spat at him, opening the door and slammed it in his face.

You spent the next couple tour dates in your cousin Roger’s room until they could book ahead enough for five rooms instead of four. When you got to Roger’s room that night, you were a crying mess with your belongings spilling out of your arms, Roger quickly kicking out the girl he had in his room to pull you inside and find out what had you so upset. You dropped your clothes right inside the door as he pulled you in for a tight hug, letting you cry out your heart wrenching cries until the account of what had just happened came spilling out of you.

He grew tense, the blood boiling in his veins, as he remembered what he told John all those years ago. “If you hurt her, I’ll fucking kill you.”

Roger broke himself of your embrace, deaf to your cries trying to get him to stop as you watched from the doorway as Roger burst into John’s hotel room. You heard him pin John against the wall, as he screamed, “What the fuck is wrong with you? That’s my cousin! She’s like my baby sister, John! What the fuck?”

John just cried the whole time, “I thought it was her, I promise Roger. I’d never do anything to hurt her. I love her. Please, Rog.” as Roger beat him senseless, Brian quickly running down the hall and pulling him off of John as Freddie called an ambulance. It wasn’t bad, but Roger had broken his nose and gave him two bad black eyes. The band had never come so close to breaking up. You were the fourth to join the band per Roger’s request due to your all around musicianship at singing, piano and guitar, but they still needed a bassist, and so John joined a week or so after you had.

For a couple days, you and Roger talked about breaking off and starting something with just the two of you called The Taylor’s, but after some very heated discussions with the other three, the five of you decided you could all act like adults for the well-being of the band and your fans.

Of course the whole thing was covered by the media- they ate it up like it was candy. Everyone knew the next morning what had happened, John had cheated on you and Roger beat him up for it, you and Roger almost leaving the band. Your names were at the top of every newspaper. Of course John had been inconsolable throughout the entire process, Freddie told you he cried every night, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to talk to him, because you were still hurting too. When John was in the hospital, they had done some blood tests and found out that the girl had, in fact, drugged him. But no matter how many times Freddie, Roger, and Brian told you, trying to explain that it really wasn’t his fault, you just couldn’t get the image of him fucking another girl out of your mind. You missed him terribly; were crying yourself to sleep every night too, but you just couldn’t do it. Couldn’t go back to him.

Now, in your dressing room at Hyde Park, you prepared for another show when you heard a knock at the door, hearing your cousin call your name on the other side.

“Come on in Rog,” you smiled, pulling him in for a tight embrace. “Just the person I needed to see right now.”

“Yeah? Must be that cousinly intuition thing.” He smirked. “How’re you doing with the whole thing?”

“Oh, um, I’m alright.” You sadly smiled, knowing he was talking about John. “Miss him. Don’t want to, but I do.”

“I know.” He said, kissing the top of your head. “Just wanted to warn you, there’s a whole swarm of reporters waiting for you to come out right outside your door; all of ‘em wanna hear from the lady of the hour.” He smiled.

“Okay. Tell them I’ll be out in a minute,” you said, waving him off as you hurriedly did your last minute preparations.

“Oh,” he said, just as he placed his hand on the doorknob, “I can’t tell you what I’m talking about, but just so you know, I was out voted and I’m sorry in advance.” He said sincerely as he slipped out the door, leaving you majorly confused.

You finished getting ready and grabbed a couple bottles of water as you left the room, immediately engulfed by the flashing of cameras and dozens of reporters yelling your name.

“Everyone shut the fuck up for a moment!” You screamed, smiling at your ability to control the crowd. “I’ll answer three questions, so make them good. You.” You decided, pointing at an NBC reporter.

“Miss Taylor, what made you all decide to do a free concert? People are predicting this to be the biggest turn out for a concert yet, with over 150,000 people. Does that scare you?”

“Oh I don’t know, it’s something we’ve been talking about for a while.” You smiled. “We love the idea of giving back to our fans, so we thought doing a free concert would be really nice. And no, the amount of people doesn’t scare me one bit; no matter if it was 50 people or 150,000, we’d still all put in the same amount of effort to our performance. To me, the number is just a beautiful representation of how many people we have affected with our music.”

The journalists furiously scribbled down what you had said on their notes, once again screaming your name.

“Alright…” you searched. “You?” You said, pointing at one to your right a few rows back.

“I know that you’ve done some modeling with Prada outside of Queen. Can you give us any hints about the new winter collection? What made you start modeling? Any new projects in that aspect?”

And then you saw it.

Saw him.

John was leaning against the will on the other side of the hallway trying to inconspicuously listen in on your interview, hoping to hear some bits of new information about your life.

So you decided to have a little fun.

The crowd quieted as you’d started your response. “Well I must say, I honestly think the modeling thing is luck. The modeling industry is extremely particular about who they allow to model and such, Roger and I are just lucky that the Taylor’s have such fortunate genes. Queen’s my main focus, but I must admit it is a nice hobby.” You laughed. “But I’m afraid there’s nothing I can tell you about the new Prada collection! I honestly don’t know much either. I went in for a fitting when we arrived back to London last week, and I will be walking the runway at the debut of the winter collection, but that’s really all I can tell you now.” You smiled. “Did I answer everything?”

“Almost,” the reporter smiled back. “I was wondering if you have any new projects with modeling coming up?”

“Oh, yes! Absolutely. And I think I can actually tell you about this one too,” you started, smirking to see that John was still eagerly listening into your interview. What you were about to say wasn’t 100% true, although you had received a call from them about being the model of the month in February for Valentine’s Day, but you hadn’t accepted it yet. Oh well, you thought, a public acceptance to their offer is still an acceptance. I can always turn it down later. Here goes nothing. “Well, I'm going to be the model on the cover of February’s Playboy Magazine!” You smirked, noticing the shock on John’s face; he almost choked on his beer. “None of that playmate stuff, just the model on the cover. But hey, it’s a big leap for my modeling career and I’m excited for that to be going other places.”

The reporters took no time to start screaming your name again as you chose one to your left, noticing the look on his face as he was about to ask his question. You could tell what this one would be about. “Ms. Taylor, we haven’t really heard much of anything about it for a month, so I was wondering if you could tell us how things are between you and John?”

You froze.

Do I tell him the truth, about how I’ve been a mess every night and miss him terribly, with John standing right there?

“Well, it’s been hard, but we’re handling it like adults. But I mean, honestly, I couldn’t care less about what he’s doing. Only talk to him if I absolutely have to, which isn’t often. Not that I want to, anyways.” You said coldly, shooting daggers his way. He heard everything, and it was too much for him. He walked away with his head down and tears in his eyes, and in that moment you almost felt bad.

Almost.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The concert was going great, the five of you playing completely in sync the entire night. You’d taken lead vocals on Flick of the Wrist, ‘39, and Stone Cold Crazy, and took lead vocals for sections of Sweet Lady, Killer Queen and Liar, but other than that provided some harmonies and played guitars with Brian. You just finished the finale, In The Lap of the Gods (revisited), and walked to the front of the stage to take your bows with the other four, but no one walked up with you. Roger stayed at the drums, Freddie at the piano, and Brian and John in their usual places, leaving you and the crowd majorly confused. You watched the audience looking around with majorly confused looks, the one on your face surely matching theirs. You noticed a section to the left started chanting

“One more song!”

“I’ve got no idea what the fuck is going on either, darlings,” you exclaimed, earning a laugh from the crowd. You spun around to look at the boys, Roger mouthing, “I’m sorry,” with a sympathetic look as John hesitantly took the microphone out of his stand and stepped toward the front of the stage. He was nervous, and now you were too.

“Hi, everyone,” he hesitantly smiled, his shyness taking over for a moment. The crowd cheered him on, eager to hear from the member they usually heard from the least. “I, um- I just wanted your attention for a moment. I’m sure you all know what happened about a month ago…” his voice trailed off, the crowd silencing; eager for the next piece of juicy information surrounding the scandal. “but I just wanted to personally acknowledge it, I’ve been a recluse throughout the entire thing, and quite honestly know it was the worst mistake of my life. I’m sure you all saw the papers that said how I was drugged, which my doctors have proven was true, but that’s not my reason for speaking right now. I think it’ll be a little more apparent what I’m trying to get at after we do this, but right now we’d like to end with something we don’t usually end with. Enjoy.” He smiled, Freddie starting the much too recognizable piano intro to that song.

John’s song.

The song that was in dedication to you.

You’re My Best Friend.

Tears stung your eyes at the gesture, knowing what would be coming when the song came to an end. It made sense why Roger had been apologizing to you profusely all day for something that hadn’t even happened yet: he didn’t know how you’d react, and quite honestly you didn’t know how to react either. You watched to the side the entire time as this was completely unexpected to you, trying to wrap your head around the decision you knew you were going to have to make at the end of the song.

“Oh, you’re my best friend.” Freddie ended, John once again grabbing the microphone as he walked over to you, taking your hand in his and bringing you to center stage.

“Y/N, I'm so sorry for what I did. Like I said earlier, Love, it’s the biggest regret of my life. Each day without you feels like an eternity; I haven’t had one single happy moment since you left me. Believe me, I know I deserved it, and I know I honestly don’t deserve you to come back to me, even though it wasn’t entirely my fault what happened. I think you know it wasn’t my fault too, and if I wasn’t drugged, I never in a million years would ever have done anything to hurt you, Love. I wouldn’t then, and I wouldn’t now. So, Y/N, would you please make me the happiest man in the world, and be my girlfriend again?”

The world spun around you as the crowd started to chant, “Take him back! Take him back!”. Over 150,000 people rooting for you to take him back. The answer seemed simple, didn’t it? It really wasn’t his fault, and you knew that, but you just couldn’t get that image of him with her out of your head; couldn’t remove the fear of being hurt again, until you saw it.

Saw the glimmer in his eye.

A little tear fall down his cheek, because he saw the uncertainty in your eyes.

But as you looked in his eyes, you saw the man you fell in love with all those years ago, saw the sincerity in his words. He truly didn’t mean it; he really had been drugged. And then instinct took over as you connected your lips with his. The crowd roared in cheers of happiness and approval, John’s arms wrapping around your waist as you put your hands on his cheeks. Tears of happiness rolled out of both of your eyes as the two of you separated for a moment, John quietly whispering, “I didn’t think you were gonna say yes,” before you hurriedly pressed your lips to his again. The world seemed to dissolve around you, the 150,000 audience members disappearing to leave only you and John in the arena. The other four walked up to take their bows with the two of you as God Save the Queen started, John’s arms never leaving your waist as the two of you smiled at each other the entire time. The other three were ecstatic; especially Roger, because he was so fearful that you’d be mad at him for trying to help John behind your back. All three of them patted him on the back, congratulating the two of you for getting back together as they walked past where the two of you stood just off the stage; Freddie admitting that over the last month or so you were both a complete mess without each other.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” John admitted between kisses.

“Believe me, I’ve missed you too, Deaky.” You gushed. “I was just scared, didn’t wanna get hurt again,” you admitted.

“I promise you won’t, I, I didn’t- I wasn’t…”

“I know,” you said, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “I know.”

“I’d never, ever do anything to hurt you, Love. God, I’ve only been able to think about you, it’s been driving me mad. I’ve missed your smile, your laugh, your voice, your hugs, your snarky comments,” he laughed as he tickled you sides. It was true, you’d been missing the same things about him, but there was one thing he hadn’t said he was missing. The thing that made you leave him.

“What about… the other thing?” You seductively said, twirling his hair in your finger.

“God,” he groaned. “I’ve missed that the most, couldn’t even get myself to try with a groupie. It’s not worth it if it’s not you.” He said, attaching his lips to your neck. You were looking to tease him, make him admit how much he needed you.

“So… you’ve missed me screaming your name every night?” You laughed.

“More than anything,” he shyly admitted. “You have no idea how many nights I got thinking of you, then had to look at old polaroids I had of you just to, you know?”

You knew.

Just to get himself off.

“Then what are we still doing here?” You smirked, hands wandering dangerously close to the top of his pants as he scooped you up in his arms making you laugh at his inability to control himself.

“ ‘Cmon, Love. We’re going back to my hotel room a little early.” He smiled.

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Thats it guys! I hope you enjoyed!!! I think the name of the fic will make more sense as more chapters come out; I am going to do aesthetics and q&a’s and all that like I normally do for CLGOL. Today is gonna be a catch up day for me with some other things I’ve posted, so i think im gonna be posting like 3 aeshetics today haha. -C

Taglist: @yourlocalmusicalprostitute , @bismillahnah , @deakysmisfire , @queer-heart-attack , @everything-you-dont-wanna-be , @mercurycrowley , @ikbenplant , @xcdelilahxc , @chekovs-davy-jones-wig , @laedymoon , @manicpixydreamgirl , @jaylikesguavass , @brianskindofcheese , @anincurablefangirl , @jennyggggrrr

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volturialice · 5 years

Text

Spork Haven chapter 22: outlandish fucking statue

welcome to spork haven, where I spork the EL James fic you’ve never heard of

previous chapter | next chapter | contents

previously on Spork Haven:

actor!Edward and murder witness cello student ex-hotel maid!Bella got ready to go to an awards show! and that was it that was the entire chapter

SADDLE UP CHUCKLEFUCKS, THIS CHAPTER IS GREAT. like, I legitimately mean that. a lot of stupid shit goes down and it is absolutely bonkers and thoroughly entertaining. this is the reward I deserve after putting up with the last few dead boring chapters. chapter 22 has restored my faith in this story’s ability to be wildly, audaciously stupid all over the place, like the shitting hippopotamus of stories.

chapter 22 begins with Bella and Edward getting into the car to get to the airport to get on the studio’s private jet to fly to a different airport to get into a limo to get to the awards ceremony. okay, so maybe it’s not fun right off the bat. just hang on a sec.

on the drive, Edward notices Bella’s lack of delicious, suck-able earrings. she tells him she lost one, and he tells her he found it in her room and has kept it as a trophy. now he can’t stand the sight of her disgusting, shamefully naked ears, declaring that she should be wearing

so he makes Mike pull over at a Tiffany’s. I’m not even kidding. they’re on their way to an official event and he insists they need a pit stop to go jewelry shopping. Tiffany’s should really have a drive-thru for occasions like these.

Bella is not allowed out of the car for security reasons, so Edward takes Jasper to Tiffany’s instead. honestly at this point I am so checked out that nothing would please me more than a sharp left turn into Edward/Jasper territory, but alas, the most we get is Edward calling Jasper

and telling us how bitter and jealous Jasper is as Edward casually drops twelve grand on a single pair of earrings.

Edward makes sure to tell us how clueless he is choosing earrings, in case we needed to be reminded of what a good ol’ fashioned Red-Blooded Hetero™ he is. he’s so out of his depth here, among all this

don’t worry ladies, this hunk of oozing testosterone has never seen a diamond or a sparkle in his life

he quickly picks a pair of earrings called the “Victoria Double Drop,” which is as close as this story will get to having Victoria in it. oh well. on second thought it’s probably for the best that way, seeing as how in f!fty sh@des, erika made Victoria a head of Human Resources.

back in the car, Bella opens the

causing Edward to feel such varied emotions as

and

but of course Bella loves the earrings and puts them on right away.

I...assume we’re supposed to be impressed with Edward’s generosity and largesse and thoughtfulness here, but. do I even need to point out that if he were actually a thoughtful and considerate boyfriend, he would have spent more than two seconds picking out a gift for Bella and done it, oh, maybe a day or two before the black tie event as opposed to in the car on the way there?

Edward, Bella, and their retinue (Emmett, Jasper, and Edward’s movie’s director, Chris, who is completely unimportant to the story but still here for some reason) board the jet, which is decorated in

Ed and Bella sit down on the couch, causing Edward to have a flashback to the time he had a threesome with two beautiful flight attendants on the same couch last year.

like actually. that’s an actual thing in the actual story. flight attendant threesome.

Edward catches Bella eyeing him during his fun little reverie and has a moment of panic

wait, was that a joke? was that a...fun reference to canon?

...gosh,

if only it were in a better story

anyway. after the plane ride, the gang meets up with Taylor and gets into some

to head to the read carpet. once on said carpet, they pose for “the fucking press corps” in a paragraph where erika hilariously mixes up flashbulbs and flashlights, making it sound like everyone on the red carpet is playing flashlight tag.

Bella gets a lot of attention from the press and seems uncomfortable with it, causing Edward to wonder if it was a good idea to bring a shy person who’s spent the last six months in hiding from murderers to such a high profile event. ya fucking think?

they talk to a bunch of people Edward hates and drink a glass of champagne

remember kids, champagne is gay. this post brought to you by Beer Hets™

Ed and Bella sit down for the ceremony, and guess whomst is one of the award presenters? that’s right, the delectable old vain blonde hussy herself.

and just when I thought Safe Haven!Bella couldn’t possibly get any stupider, I’m proven wrong.

not to get all Serious And Analytical here, but Safe Haven is an amazing example of erika’s patented “write a heroine so unbelievably fucking dumb that all of the creepy male love interest’s abusive, controlling actions seem justified” method.

Tanya opens the Best Actor envelope with

and pauses for

and surprise, surprise, Edward has won. the audience dissolves into

then Edward goes up to collect his award, and we get one of my favorite paragraphs of all time, which I have here preserved for you in its entirety:

yes, that was 5 “fucks” in...two? sentences

then Edward and Tanya have to do a photo op in front of a “lit to fuck board.” Tanya makes some catty remark about Bella and Edward snaps at her that Bella is “the future Mrs. Cullen, if you don’t mind.”

quick sidebar, are we sure an adult wrote this? like are we sure it wasn’t a ten-year-old? have we double-checked? like are we totally certain?

ok then.

Edward and Bella make their way to the after party, where they drink more champagne (gay) and something finally dawns on Edward

no, and no official, televised, US-based event would serve her in the first place. I can’t wait for the next chapter, in which all these characters serve 60 days in jail for supplying alcohol to a teenager.

then Bella starts to feel dizzy, so Emmett takes her to the ladies’ room while Edward poses for more pictures. place your bets now on whether she’s poisoned, pregnant, or both! my money’s on “both” but I wish it was just poison. that would be way more fun.

and indeed, some type of skulduggery seems to be afoot, because when Edward joins Emmett to lurk outside the ladies’ room, Bella still hasn’t come back after five whole minutes! Edward and Emmett share a glance

I’m sorry erika but literally what is the point of describing them like that if they aren’t going to fall in love?? can you fucking read, erika? can you read the phrase “dark burning eyes”?? can you read that last sentence aloud and then honestly sit here and tell me it’s not the gayest thing since gay sliced bread?? hmm? can you???

after this epically, gloriously homosexual moment, Edward bursts into the ladies’ room, surprising all the ladies who are engaged in activities like

you know, the more of el james’ work I encounter, the more I’m convinced that she has never actually met another human woman and that her only source of information on womankind is stock photos.

Edward rushes through the women’s restroom, checking every stall, only to find that—alas—horror of horrors—Bella has disappeared! oh, the humanity!

he fights “the nausea that’s threatening to erupt all over the fucking floor,” and there the chapter ends.

predictions: chapter 23 will begin with Edward projectile vomiting all over the women’s room. then it turns out that Bella is totally fine and was just taking some Me Time in order to laugh alone with a salad.

best “fucks”

“a complete fucking delight”

“every fucking muscle”

“a fucking house on fire”

“pouty fucking lip”

“secretly fucking pleased” (bella)

“fucking elegant” (bella)

“fucking blinking” (the Tiffany’s salesgirl)

“fucking flashy” (earrings)

“fucking animated” (bella)

“one of the biggest fucking mouths in Hollywood” (tanya)

“completely fucking oblivious” (bella)

next chapter: salt fucking peter

#spork haven #twilight fanfiction #anti e.l. james #alcohol mention //#if I had to guess I think this chapter has the most 'fucks' of any chapter #it's a good one lads #we're BACK baby #unsafe for work text //

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