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mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess · 1 year

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Mary-go-round... Lan Zhan does not

@sasukimimochi here you go, the ficlet for your prompt <3 writing this made my heart warm, I got to remember so many of my own fond memories with amusement parks and fairs!

Prompt: here

Lan Wangji does not have regrets. He doesn't regret taking up education instead of music as his major, he doesn't regret moving in with Wei Ying after a month (well, 23 days) of dating and, of course, he does not and will never regret falling in love with Wei Ying no matter what his uncle has to say about it.

However, Lan Wangji now regrets something - and the moment the rollercoaster handler fastens the seatbelts and metal bars over his lap, Lan Wangji regrets it even more.

Why did he have to pretend to be brave? He's not. Really, there's not a brave bone in his body - not when it comes to this... contraption that's called something like The Deadly Loop Of Doom and Despair. Very aptly named, yes, but - but the point is that Lan Wangji regrets letting Wei Ying drag him into this.

Of course, if he said something, Wei Ying would have understood and respected it - but Lan Zhan just had to paint himself as this tough man that Wei Ying could always rely on for anything... so now, here is, about to go on the Deadly Loop Of Doom And Despair and probably die during it. So much for being tough and reliable.

He hates heights, he hates loops and spins - and he absolutely does not trust these shoddy safety measures that these very young employees are fastening onto people. Shouldn't there be more engineers around? Safety inspectors? Police? Priests??

Lan Zhan already feels dizzy and the thing hasn't even left ground yet. Well, if he dies at least he's gonna have Wei Ying by his side.

Wei Ying whose face is lit up like a Christmas tree, looking everywhere around, nearly vibrating with excitement in his seat.

Lan Zhan loves him so much - but he's never going to do this with him again.

The ride begins moving and Lan Zhan's stomach drops. This definitely has to be some kind of torture device, he's definitely going to have to check that Geneva Convention again one of these days, perhaps he can sue the park for unsafe practices, human rights violations or at least emotional damage.

The ride picks up speed and Lan Zhan realizes he's going to need to be alive to do those things and he doubts he will be.

---

Wei Ying jumps off his seat like he's actioned by spring, and he begins talking up a storm about how "cool" and "fun" that was.

It was so cool and fun that Lan Wangji can barely keep himself upright, and he's pretty sure he's mentally converted to at least 5 different religions.

"...Lan Zhan? Are you okay?"

Wei Ying looks concerned now, worry on his features much too pretty. Lan Zhan nods and takes his hand, hoping his fingers aren't shaking as much as his knees are.

He feels like a newborn, but in a bad way. No, he doesn't know what that means.

Wei Ying seems unconvinced. "Did something happen? You look a little... haunted."

He is.

"I'm fine."

Wei Ying tries to analyze his expression again, and Lan Zhan hopes his poker face is as good as Nie Huaisang complains it to be when they play cards.

It seems to be, because Wei Ying is back to dragging him around, and Lan Zhan is more than happy with that arrangement as long as there are no rollercoasters around.

---

The boy shoots his last arrow but misses the target miserably.

"Sorry, kid, the bunny plushie stays right here with me!" the vendor laughs and the boy sticks his tongue out at him before running off towards his parents.

Lan Zhan can practically see the idea be born inside Wei Ying's mind when he walks up to the stand and pays for a turn. There are a few kids in line behind him, and he turns to them as he picks up the bow from the vendor.

"In order to be a good archer, you need to have good grip on the bow, like this. Keep your back and shoulders straight."

He turns towards the target and the kids huddle to a side, to observe. "Place the arrow right against the middle point of the string, following the direction of your target."

Lan Zhan watches his form, perfect (and incredibly attractive), and imagines himself in those stereotypical scenarios with an apple on his head, half naked, Wei Ying testing his archery skills on him.

This is so not the place for such fantasies.

"And then, you focus on the target, take a deep breath, and..."

Wei Ying decides to show off, winks at Lan Zhan and closes his eyes, spinning elegantly in place, once. He lets go of the bow string as he stops and everybody watches the arrow fly with baited breaths.

It hits right on target, bullseye.

The children cheer and Wei Ying does a little curtsy their way as the vendor begrudgingly hands him the giant plushie.

"Here." Wei Ying says as he hands it to Lan Zhan. "This is for you!"

Lan Zhan huffs a breath that sounds suspiciously like a laugh and kisses Wei Ying's forehead. "My hero."

---

Lan Zhan is not used to having sugary treats often. When he was little, uncle said he became restless if he had too much processed sugar, so he rarely got to indulge in candy and cakes as a result. The habit was drilled into him, so his interest in sweets remained low all the way through adulthood... until now.

He is on his second serving of cotton candy and he feels at the height of decadence. Wei Ying bites into a candy apple himself, and he looks much like a happy chipmunk chewing on it. Lan Zhan is going to kiss him about it - later, when he's done indulging in this frivolous pink dessert that feels like he's biting into a soft, sticky, sugar cloud.

"You look like you're having a religious experience." Wei Ying laughs. "Last time I saw you like that was the first time you saw me naked."

Lan Zhan half glares at him as he bites into the cotton candy. "Ridiculous."

"No, it's true, you do look like you've made a big discovery about yourself."

And he has. He's starting to understand why uncle didn't let him have sugar as a child - he suddenly feels restless and full of energy, and he knows the sugar crash is going to be terrible after.

But never mind that.

They're selling gingerbread figurines two stalls over.

---

"We need to bring A-Yuan with us next time!" Wei Ying says as he and Lan Zhan walk out of the amusement park, fingers interlocked. "He's going to have so much fun here!"

"No big rollercoasters for him." Lan Zhan says and doesn't only mean A-Yuan.

"Oh, no, he's way too young! That's for grown-ups, only we can handle that kind of thing."

Wei Ying doesn't see the 'speak for yourself' in his lover's side eye as he climbs into the car.

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wangxian #writing attempts

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mercedesdecorazon · 11 months

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LITG S7 Ficlet 1: Stick or Twist? (Alex/MC)

~~~

Author's Note: I had to put my own spin on it because the game ai does not do this premise justice!

~~~

Jenna was ecstatic to been in the show. She had been watching the show for years and she loved it. She wanted to be an OG but she didn't get through because they thought she looked similar to Willow.

(Jenna was confused since Series 2 had Hope and Rosalia, and Series 4 had Najuma and Thabi all as OGs and those girls were all dark-skinned but okay then.)[1]

But Jenna was ecstatic to be in the Villa and the girls seemed nice enough, even Summer.

At first she had her eyes on Bryson but Alex caught her attention.

She grafted on all the guys, to get a feel for them, if she liked them. And so far, Rafael and Alex stood out to her. Bryson and Joyo were too complicated as they fought over Geri at some point so that was a no. And Rafael was loyal to his missus in the Villa.

So Jenna went for Alex who seemed open to her advances.

Now Jenna wasn't going to go throw Alex's partner Estelle under the bus like Summer was doing. That would come back to bite her in the bum like it did with Blake and Gabi from the previous seasons. Badmouthing the OGs never sat well with the audiences. That would send her home with a quickness like it did Blake.

She would have Alex like her genuinely.

Which was the harder road.

~~~

Summer was annoying.

She was too strong which was fine but she kept getting in Jenna's way.

Alex seemed a little off-put by it luckily.

Jenna grafted on him and Rafael but Rafael wasn't too receptive to her advances so she stopped. Rafael and Daphne were the 'strong' couple in the Villa, if she went after him, it would be more drama.

She continued to have chats with Alex and Bryson, and she liked Alex's simple outlook of being a family man, building a home and that sort of stuff. Alex seemed the more traditional type in her observation.

On the third day of Casa Amor, she managed to get a kiss out of Alex and she enjoyed it. It was a little bland but she could work with that.

Alex's face was red the whole evening and the guys teased him about it. Jenna felt proud. She was making progress.

They shared a bed that evening and Alex made his move on her, touching her intimately. They didn't do big bits but they did reach second base. No home run yet as Alex wasn't ready.

Still, it wasn't over. She couldn't get comfortable. There was still a chance Alex won't bring her back to the Villa and she would just be another bland Casa girl who was used for sex.

She didn't want that.

She talked to Alex about her goals and his goals and listened to him about his thoughts and feelings. He was pleased by that at least.

He didn't touch her intimately again but they did share a few snogs.

On the fourth day, she and the girls stepped up their game more. Casa Amor was ending soon and the girls wanted to make it into the Villa.

That evening, Alex invited her to sit with him on the loungers and Jenna held her breath.

"I would like to get to know you. I'm taking you back to the Villa." He stated.

Jenna was shocked, "You are?"

"Sure. I like you a lot. You seem nice and sweet."

"What about Estelle?" She had to ask.

Alex looked uncomfortable. "She'll... understand. I think." He shook his head. "I like you Jenna and I do want to get to know you."

Jenna was excited but until the Stick and Twist ceremony happened, she would be cautious.

~~~

"Now Alex," the host began. "Before you went to Casa Amor, you were coupled up with Estelle."

Alex nodded, "Yes."

"And how was Casa Amor for you?"

"It was good. I met some nice girls and one stood out to me."

Summer puffed her chest out and Jenna resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"So Alex, you can choose to stay loyal to Estelle or you can couple up with one of these beautiful girls here." The host told him. "If you do couple up with one of these girls and Estelle doesn't couple up with one of the boys from Casa Amor, she will be single. But if Estelle does decide to couple up with a new boy, you two will be in new couples in the Villa."

"Yes," Alex nodded.

"So what will you like to do? Stick with Estelle or twist with one of these new girls?"

Jenna held her breath. This was the moment of truth. She wouldn't mind if he stuck with Estelle. She expected it. She did her best and it wasn't enough. She understood that. She would be okay. It was a fun time either way. She will be fine, she told herself.

...

"I would like to recouple."

Jenna looked shocked. The Casa girls gasped and the boys looked surprised.

"And who would you like to recouple with?" The host asked.

Alex's eyes fell on her and he did not hesitate. "Jenna."

Jenna was frozen. He wanted to recouple with her? She couldn't believe it.

She walked over to Alex on shaky legs, ignoring Summer's protests. Alex's arms wrapped around her and she was in his embrace.

"Jenna, how do you feel, now that Alex has recoupled with you?"

"I feel excited. I'm shocked honestly." She answered shakily.

After the host finished with them, she and Alex stood together as the ceremony continued.

"Why were you shocked? I said that I would recouple with you." Alex whispered.

"I was so sure that you would change your mind." Jenna smiled.

Alex grinned. "I meant what I said. I do want to get to know you, Jenna."

Jenna was on a high.

~~~

Jenna now stood with Alex in the back entrance in the Villa and she was afraid. She didn't know if Estelle twisted or not but she hoped she did. Either way, Alex made his choice.

When she and Alex walked out together into the Villa, where the girls were doing their Stick or Twist ceremony, there were gasps.

And Estelle stood alone, with no boy at her side.

Jenna's heart thumped painfully. Now she was the Blake in this situation now!

Estelle glared at her and Alex. Alex doesn't look at his former partner, instead he squeezed Jenna's hand and stood tall, not showing any emotions.

Jenna sighed. She was in the Villa now, but the game wasn't over yet.

It was just beginning.

~~~

Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! This was a blast to write. I enjoyed going into Jenna's thoughts and feelings, because she, as Casa girl, will have a harder road.

[1] In this LITG universe with my MCs, only Rosalia (S2 MC - we know her from my series 'Alien'), Azere (S3 MC), Coco (S5 MC) and Cheryl (S6 MC) are OGs.

-Rachelle (S1 MC) came in as a bombshell with Rohan in this universe. Cherry is an OG. Cherrygate still happened.

-Tanya (S4 MC) came in as the first bombshell (she was the Priya of S4). She came three days later and she was eliminated before the finals with Youcef.

-Now Jenna (S7 MC) came in as a Casa Amor girl. Alex recouples with her and now this is her season.

In this universe, only two OG black girls are Hope and Rosalia back in S2, Thabi and Najuma in S4, and Cheryl and Grace in S6. Genevieve came in as bombshell in S3 as Azere coupled up with Harry.

That's it!

#litg #litg s7 #litg season 7 #litg stick or twist #litg ff #litg mc #litg mc: jenna #litg alex #litg estelle

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fateinthestars · 4 months

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Star-Crossed Myth Fluffbruary Fanfic May Catch-up (23rd Feb Prompt): Backfire (Leon/MC)

Title: Backfire

Fandom: Star-Crossed Myth

Genre: Fluff/Humour

Rating: T

Pairing: Leon/MC (MC’s name left blank so you can fill it in with whatever you wish in your head)

Characters: Leon, MC, Ichthys, Huedhaut, Zyglavis, Teorus

Word Count: 1,540

Written for Prompt: February 23 : rhythm | chalk | humor for @fluffbruary

A/N: I wanted each God to have at least two ficlets. By the time I got to this one today I had three prompts left and three Gods that still needed their second story: Scorpio, Teorus, and Leon. I don't know why I decided to put Leon against this one and it did take me a while to come up with something. Hopefully this has come out alright!

February 23rd: Backfire (Leon/MC)

Leon sat down on the sofa with a frown, sighing softly. Feeling a certain prankster approach he snapped his fingers and there was a loud bang from behind him as what Ichthys was holding exploded.

“Hey!” Ichthys grumbled, but then hesitantly sat down beside him on the sofa. “Leon, is something wrong? Normally you at least make me think my prank is going to work before you interfere with it…”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Leon grumbled. “I don’t understand so you certainly wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

Leon turned to the other. “The Goldfish seems out of sorts. Everything I normally try isn’t working. She’s not upset just… it feels like she’s bored.”

“Have you tried making her laugh?”

“You would think of something like that, fish,” Leon snapped, glaring at him.

“Come on! Isn’t there an Earth saying about laughter being the best medicine?” Ichthys tried to convince him. Before Leon could reply, Teorus came into the room. “Hey, Teo! Don’t you think ___ would appreciate a laugh?”

“Goldie’s got a great sense of humour, but I’m not sure I should say yes when it is you asking,” Teorus grumbled.

Ichthys bit his lip and frowned. “I’m not asking for a prank, I’m trying to persuade Leon he should find a way to make her laugh.”

Teorus smiled brightly at that, finally understanding. “Yes, humour is an important part of any relationship, you wouldn’t want it to get boring now would you?”

Leon’s eyes widened a little. She could be bored? Shaking his internal thoughts away, he forced a smirk onto his face. “As if it could ever be boring with me as her boyfriend.”

“Suit yourself!” Ichthys replied, sticking his tongue out. He then snapped his fingers and vanished.

Rolling his eyes at the other suddenly disappearing initially, Leon then realised that not only was Teorus staring at him oddly but he had briefly got lost in his own thoughts in the presence of Ichthys which was always a bad idea. “What did he do?” He growled to Teorus.

Teorus averted his gaze. “Um… well… you see…”

Before the other Wishes God could manage to find a way to gently tell Leon what Ichthys had done, some of the other Gods returned from the Heavens.

Zyglavis slowed as he saw the scene in front of him, and he smirked tauntingly at the Minister of Wishes. “Trying out a new look, lion? I must say those cat ears really suit you.”

Scowling, Leon snapped his fingers and got rid of them but his irritation was only there for a moment. As Zyglavis’ attention turned to talking to his Vice Minister, Leon smirked to himself with a glint in his eyes.

Perhaps he would utilise Ichthys’ suggestion after all.

***

A couple of days later, ___ frowned a little as Leon teleported them both directly to the mansion. “I’m sorry if I’ve annoyed you.”

Leon turned to her, a little startled. “No, you haven’t. Although it is rather frustrating that you haven’t told me why you have seemed out of sorts recently,” he added, frowning at her a little.

“I was just tired,” ___ reassured, smiling genuinely at him. “I’d hoped you hadn’t noticed.”

“Foolish Goldfish, do you think you can hide such nonsense from a God such as myself?” Leon scoffed, though privately he was relieved that that was all it was. He had enough belief in their relationship that lack of humour was not making it boring, but his conversation with Ichthys had planted enough of a seed of doubt that perhaps he had somehow missed something that it was reassuring to know everything was fine. However, it now gave him even more reason to go ahead with what he was planning. “Still, if you want to make it up to me, you can help me with something.” Leaning over to her, he whispered in her ear what he wanted her to do.

___ frowned, confused. “Why do you want me to do that?”

“I have a surprise for a certain someone.”

Her eyes showing slight wariness, ___ hesitantly agreed to go along with his plan.

***

When Ichthys returned from the Heavens that night, he was about to teleport away again as he saw Leon approaching him, worried that the other was still angry at him for that minor prank a few days ago. However, seeing his seemingly worried expression, Ichthys instead approached the other. “What’s up?”

“___ hasn’t turned up tonight and I keep hearing this annoying knocking.”

Ichthys frowned with puzzlement, his eyes widening a little as he listened and heard the rhythmic tapping that Leon must have been on about. “That doesn’t sound random…” he muttered. “Hey Hue! Can you hear that?” He asked as the God of Aquarius also came into the living room.

Huedhaut paused, listening for a moment. He nodded slowly. “It’s morse code. If I am recalling how the schematics of that language works it sounds as though someone is sending a distress call.”

“And ___ hasn’t turned up tonight!” Ichthys eyes lit up blue with shock. “Then it could be her! Especially as that’s clearly an Earth thing.” He then flashed a smile at Leon. “Don’t worry, I can follow this sound! I’ll find her.”

As he rushed off, Huedhaut glanced suspiciously at Leon. “Not going to try to get to her ahead of him?”

“No, in fact I am counting on him finding her.”

Huedhaut smirked a little. “Ah, you are trying to get back at Ichthys for the other evening. I suspect if I bring up how often we have tried this and not got anywhere you will not listen to me.”

“I should make sure I am there for when he finds her,” Leon mumbled to himself, following Ichthys out of the room.

Sitting down on the sofa, Huedhaut sighed heavily to himself. “Or perhaps you were not really listening to me in the first place.”

It did not take long for Ichthys to follow the trail of tapping to the kitchen. The fact it was there did not surprise the other as as Gods they rarely used it, though usually ___ was fine with it. Running over to the door he tried to push it open only to find it wouldn’t open. “Door stuck huh?”

“Ichthys! Can you help get me out of here?”

“Of course, of course,” Ichthys reassured. He teleported into the room.

As he was about to ask her whether she was okay, the door behind him swung open. He looked at ___ in confusion. “But that was stuck!”

“Yes, it was. I’m sorry, Ichthys, Leon seemed insistent about this!”

“Huh?” Ichthys glanced down at this point, suddenly realising he was standing inside a chalk circle. He went to step out of it but the sound of Leon snapping his fingers echoed around the room.

Having briefly closed her eyes, ___ hesitantly reopened them to see what exactly Leon had done to the prankster. What she saw instead, made her burst out laughing. “Leon… you’re as white a ghost… you’re covered in chalk dust!”

Leon shot a look that could have killed in her direction briefly, but then turned his focus onto Ichthys. “How did you avoid my trap?”

“You’re gonna have to do better than this to catch me out,” Ichthys responded, grinning at him.

“O ho? Is that a challenge?!”

At this point, ___ stepped between the two Gods, concerned about them both. “Ichthys, what did you do to anger Leon? And Leon, why are you trying to play Ichthys at his own game? Both of you are being ridiculous.”

“Says the Goldfish who dared to laugh at her boyfriend’s misfortune just a moment ago,” Leon responded, looking down at her.

“I told you! Humour is good for a relationship!”

“...” ___ sighed heavily as she finally pieced together what was likely going on. “Yes, I do like to have a laugh, but Leon, you do not need to change how you act for my benefit. There are other ways to have fun than this.”

Ichthys’ eyes widened and he frowned. “Wait… you decided to use my advice to try and get revenge for that little prank I pulled? It’s not like Teo -”

“Oh if he’d been the only one who had ever seen it apart from you, I probably would have forgotten about it by now. But Minister Ponytail showed his face just after you left.”

Before Ichthys could respond to that, ___ hugged Leon tightly, getting herself covered in chalk. She smiled softly at the other. “Well you succeeded in making me laugh. Does it matter if it was because Ichthys intervened?”

Leon couldn’t keep his scowl up as he looked at her, finally cracking a smile of his own as he brushed some of the chalk off her. “No I suppose not,” he muttered. He then smirked. “If I look like a ghost then you look like you knocked a bag of flour over you. Again.”

“Hey, we promised we weren’t going to mention that!”

“That was before you dared to laugh at a God,” Leon responded, before pulling her into a kiss.

Ichthys smiled softly to himself, then quietly took his leave before either of them remembered that he was still there.

#scm #star crossed myth #scm fanfic #star crossed myth fanfic #scm leon #leon x mc #scm huedhaut #scm ichthys #scm zyglavis #scm teorus #fluffbruary 2024

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invisibleraven · 1 year

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The more the merrier

A series of ficlets for @polyshipweek 2023!

Day One: Road Trip-The Greater PolyPhantoms Polycule <-AO3 link

When Julie and the Phantoms first signed on with Destiny Management, Andi requested they take some time that summer not to work on their material, but instead to take what they had on tour. “Just to get your name circulating outside LA and YouTube,” she said. “A small tour up the coast for a month or so, and maybe further if it’s going well. Then in the fall everyone will be clamoring for new stuff, and we can have your album out right in time for the holiday season.”

At first this seemed like a great idea, spreading their music, gaining new fans, a respite after finally managing to put school behind them. There was only one problem-the whole being away for at least a month.

Their families would have various states of understanding, Luke already knew his mom would be clamoring for him to be spending the summer looking into schools, regardless of him having a signed contract and an advance from the label already. Ray would be a little more lenient, only demanding they stay safe and that Julie call every so often. Alex and Reggie weren’t overly concerned about what their folks would say, as Alex had been kicked out the second it hit midnight on his 18’th birthday, now living with Julie’s aunt Victoria. Reggie had left on his birthday, with Ray converting the studio loft into a bedroom for him after he showed up with a black eye and too many bruised ribs to be counted.

It was their partners they were worried about.

So maybe the four of them were in a complicated relationship with each other and their closest friends, to the point that Reggie (the math nerd) and Alex (the organized one) had drawn up a chart, which Flynn (the most stylish one of them all) then re-did because it was ugly to look at. Now it hung in the garage as a joke, but it turned out to be handy when they had to explain the polycule they were in to anyone new.

Something they had yet to do with Andi. Yes, they had told her that none of them were straight or monogamous, but not the extent to which their lives and the lives of those closest to them were entwined. They resolved to tell her after the album was a done deal, and hoped that she would back them up with the label, but if not, at least their music was out there.

“Maybe we could come on the tour with you?” Willie suggested as they moped about the studio one afternoon. “I mean I already man your merch table and function as your roadie half the time. Would save Destiny hiring someone to do it.”

“Plus I’m in charge of your wardrobe and overall presence,” Flynn chimed in. “Otherwise you’d all still be playing in weird ghost costumes.”

“Hey, we only did that for a Halloween show and the audience loved it!” Luke piped up. He shrunk down a little when Flynn glared at him, but he was still right. Plus she managed to show him how to make cut offs without destroying his vintage band shirts, a feat for which he was eternally grateful.

“So where do I fit in?” Carrie asked. “I can’t say I’m doing choreo, since all you guys do is bounce around the stage and the best dancer is stuck behind the drums.”

“One day I’m taking the tambourine solo in Finally Free, just you wait!” Alex yelled from where he was watering the plants. He and Julie took turns at it-after Julie got rid of the ones that made him have a vicious allergy attack the first practice in her garage.

“Moral support?” Julie asked with a bit of cheek, Carrie sticking her tongue out in response.

“I think that just means groupie, which we are not calling Carrie for a multitude of reasons,” Reggie replied.

“Thank you honey bear,” Carrie said, blowing him a kiss.

“Course peach blossom.”

“Ew,” Luke remarked. “You two are gross.”

“You’re just jealous because his nickname for you is babe,” Carrie replied with an eye roll. “Anyways, justification for me coming? Any suggestions?”

“I mean, Dirty Candi as a whole could come with, be our opener, if you don’t hate that?” Julie finally said.

“Lila has summer school and Kayla is going to visit her relatives all over the Pacific Southwest unfortunately,” Carrie replied. “I mean, I could do it solo, I have a few songs of my own that will work, plus a few covers. You just have to get Andi to okay it, our sound is a little different.”

In the end, Andi did okay it, rented them a bus, and soon enough the big day of departure was there. “Road trip!” Willie hooted, tossing his bags onto one bunk. The band had already claimed theirs, given it was their bus, but since Willie was actually functioning as their employee with the heaviest workload, he got second pick.

“Man these are not big enough to snuggle in,” Reggie grumbled.

“You’ll just have to wait until we get to a hotel for that baby,” Luke said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Then we’ll see if we can get the biggest bed there is for a real snugglefest.”

There were hugs and a few tears all around before the bus pulled out, but Julie was excited, this was their first real tour!

A few weeks later, Julie downright loathed the sight of that fucking bus.

Look, it was a cool concept at first, but it didn’t leave much room for 7 grown adults plus the driver. Andi was supposed to come with them too, but a last minute emergency held her back, and she would be joining them once they hit Washington.

So they were all cramped. In a bus that had limited hot water for showers-in summer. So the bus had really started to smell.

There was only one bathroom-in which no one was allowed to poop, and so any time that came up, they had to find a rest stop. Julie, Flynn, and Carrie usually used those to splash some fresh water on themselves and change while the guys loaded up on snacks.

The bus had a tiny kitchenette, but their options were limited due to the equally tiny fridge. So everyone was getting a bit sick of eating the same few staples along with fast food and gas station finds as much as they were. “My kingdom for a vegetable!” Carrie cried out at the end of the first week when every dish they consumed was laden with grease.

“Word,” Willie said, holding out a fist to bump. As the resident vegetarians, they were the worst off, given the small selection of foods that didn’t contain meat. Alex had no clue how either of them would survive if they were going vegan this month. At least Reggie had given up trying to keep the place kosher after three nightmarish days. Not that he ate kosher most of the time, but his occasional kick to do so had coincided with them leaving.

The first few hotels, true to Luke’s word, they did find a big bed and all seven of them slumped down on it (after showers, because everyone felt a little gross) and had a lovely nap.

But now, a few weeks in, everyone agreed to pay the extra for their own rooms, because frankly they were all sick of each other.

A bus doesn’t give you much breathing room.

However, that night, Willie crawled in with Alex, snuggling in under his chin and breathing deep the appley scent of the fabric softener sheets he just knew Victoria shoved in his luggage on the off chance they got to do laundry. Alex pressed a kiss to his temple and then was snoring away again seconds later.

Carrie had a nightmare, and automatically went to Reggie-he was the best at soothing her after them. Only Flynn was already there, lounging on their snoozing boyfriend. But she held open her arms, “Plenty of room.”

Carrie didn’t need much invitation after that.

Luke ended up staying up half the night in a writing frenzy, while Julie snuffled away in the bed in their room, waking up every so often to ask him to come to bed. “In a minute boss, just gotta get this bridge right.”

By just before daybreak, Luke was stiff and yawning, but he felt like he had a bop on his hands. Burrowed into Julie’s side as the sun rose and she kissed his brow.

“I know we wanted our space… but I miss everyone else,” Luke said sleepily.

Julie grinned and messaged the group chat. Before long everyone else shuffled in, piled onto the too small bed and fell back to sleep.

Sure, no one liked the bus any more, and as much fun as the tour was, they were all anxious for it to be over. But this small slice of peace was worth every complaint, because they shared it all together.

#polyshipweek23 #my stuff #writing #fanfic #the greater phantoms polycule #julie and the phantoms

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syneilesis · 1 year

Text

Things I've learned and realized writing the fics for Inky's one-week challenge:

I'm a very slow writer; I genuinely struggle writing at least 500 words in one sitting. On good days, I can do 200 words. Inspired, maybe more. Ficlets like ekphrasis and others take me an entire day to finish. It's probably because I start writing with only a vague idea of how to go about it, or I only know the mood but not the details. I'm self-aware enough to be cognizant of my strengths and weaknesses, and I tend to stick to what works for me.

I've always wanted to write lengthy fics! But I never was the kind of writer who could hit more than 10k-word one-shots. My style doesn't lend to that kind of length. When I saw Inky's challenge and read that the max word count per entry is 500 words, I thought to myself, Ooh, I think I can do that. Regardless of the prompts -- though they help too; dialogue and AUs lend to a broadness that appeal to my rigid brain. A 500-word fic means in most cases a one-scene fic. Which frees my mind of context necessary to establish a setting. I don't have to come up with an elaborate backstory and/or explanation why this detail is like this, that detail is like that -- AUs as a trope can fill in the missing pieces to make your fic coherent.

My first fic entry was something that I plan on writing in the future, so it's easy to write it, but it still took me longer (but still within the range of my speed). My second, third, and fourth, I tried something a bit different: I used StimuWrite, an app that helps you focus on writing -- it's also known as a writing tool useful for people with ADHD.

It has a simple UI, with a word count goal and emojis that appear whenever you type words. I chose these settings: darker background (it doesn't hurt the eyes) and typewriter sfx for that legit typing feel. I may put in a bgm from youtube or something, but sometimes I just want to listen only to the sounds of typewriter keys.

I tried StimuWrite before, but it didn't work for me. I gave it another chance this time, and oh lord it's very effective???!???!!!!! I finished 3 fics in under a day. So last Sunday I wrote give or take 2,000 words, which truly blew my mind. As an aside, I recommend you try StimuWrite; it might be effective for you too.

Because of that surprising writing streak, I continued using the app for the rest of the fics. And that writing streak persists! I feel relieved, I feel elated, I feel like I can do this. It's as if my brain loosened up enough to let me do what I want. I'll definitely use StimuWrite in my other fics too --

-- with some conditions, of course. All I know right now is that it works for me if I have a target word count in mind (under 600) and that it's only concentrated on a single scene. So I could focus on one scene whenever I open up the app. But that means that I have an outline of my fic, which isn't a problem for me because I like the mental exercise of outlining. I hope that this would help me come November, as I'll participate in Nanowrimo with my original story project.

Another point I've realized is that limiting yourself with a word count improves your editing skills. I do edit and revise my fics -- but they're mostly in the sort of 'i'll delete this passage because it no longer fits' and 'i'll rephrase this because it sounds awkward'. But in the cases of my sixth and seventh event fics, I had to pare them down because I exceeded the word count requirement. Initially I was reluctant to remove passages but I had to. So I did. I removed some bits and details of the story but rephrased others to still fit them in. I have to shorten some scenes -- and this is revelatory to me somewhat -- which is actually effective for fast-paced action scenes that needed fewer words but with the largest possible impact. Sometimes, shorter is better. It made me productive, for one.

Anyway, this got long wtf? I don't even know if I was coherent about it. There are still a lot of things I'd like to improve on -- such as relying less on my crutch words and metaphors. I haven't the opportunity to read a lot lately, so I need to try at least one page a day. The book I'm currently reading has been sitting on my desk for months. Back then, when I said I wouldn't make a list of read books per year to stop pressuring myself, I didn't mean not to read books at all lmao.

I don't know how to end this post so here's a gif of a puppy on a bowl:

#archi posts #personal reflections on writing #incoherent ramblings #long post

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255940g · 2 years

Text

Any title ideas guys? Ch.1 - Stargazing

You will have to read the inspiration fic for this series to make sense.

(Its Don't Say You'd rather walk by ChronoQuantify)

Stargazing - How Optimus and Samantha start stargazing together. hint: it's to relax the both of them. Also as to what role Samantha would play in the Autobot side of the war.

Masterlist: X

Ch.2,

Upon Sam’s insistence - with Ratchet backing her and telling Optimus to ‘Fraggit relax a klick or two. We can’t have you offline from stress’ she and Optimus take to watching the night sky. They bond.

Optimus and Sam were looking up at the stars. Optimus is obviously bottling up everything and not speaking or releasing any of his worries. Sam was up on the roof because Ellie was having difficulty with recharging now that Sam -who she recognised as her carrier/mother figure- was awake, with the thought that if she took her optics off of Sam then it meant Sam being up was a hallucination or the response to an active processor.

Sam starts the conversation with “The stars have always been stunning, but even more so now that I can see far more than I was before.”

Eventually, the conversation goes to Optimus and his troubles. No matter how much he might wish to avoid the current topic. “There isn’t anyone who would genuinely understand the stress. I’m alone in that endeavour.” Trying to explain to Sam why he wasn’t able to talk to anyone.

Exaderateinly sarcastically “You’re right, I have no idea what it's like to accept something without fully understanding what you are agreeing to, not that you would ever change the decision to be upgraded by an ancient artefact that is just slightly mystical and sentient. Solely for the purpose of hope and inspiration for an entire species. The end result of this decision rises you above the average even while you are inexperienced and optimistic about a few certainties that turned out to be false. In addition, you weren’t fully prepared to handle it right at that minute. But now you need to process everything and understand them at least a day ago. Yup, You’re right. I have no idea what it could possibly be like.”

Optimus, snapping his helm over to her, “I didn't mean to imply --.”

Looking down and lightly stroking Ellie’s cheek “Don’t worry. I know what you mean and there's no insult meant, given, or taken, by me, Optimus,” venting very lightly “You just aren’t as alone as you think. Ratchet has stuck with you and will stick with you through thick and thin. Regardless of your role and job as a Prime. That’s just one example out of the team. You already care more about the team's personal lives and general wellbeing than a general would, you care as a friend. They are more than willing to be a friend back. Please share your worries before they tear you apart. There are often insights that you might not have thought about. Even if it is only with me.”

This is one of hte first ficlets that I wrote which was inspired off of it and it still makes me happy over a year later.

#maccadam #bayverse optimus prime #tfp ratchet #sam witwicky #fluff #my tfp fics

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turtle-steverogers · 3 years

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i was thinking but do you know the unsent project? it is this website where you can write a message to your first love that you never sent to them. now imagine steve writing one (or multiple) to bucky after he came out of the ice after nat told him about it... yeah

hello hi anon this broke me and it was too perfect not to turn into a ficlet klafjldskjfalskf thank you

Unsent Letters

To:

Steve’s fingers freeze over the keyboard, the cursor blinking at him. It feels like it’s taunting him-- teasing him with the burden of choking out a name. What should he even say? The sender is anonymous, but how many people are named Bucky out there? Would anyone even care?

To: Bu

Steve huffs and backspaces, his hands trembling as he curls them into fists. He isn’t sure what provoked Natasha to tell him about this website. It’s a cruel tease to everything he wishes he could say-- wished he could say before Bucky slipped through his fingers. And now his only option is yelling into an abyss. The text box is black and daunting. He turns it yellow. No, too happy. Green. Yes, that’s fine. Bucky’s favorite color was always green.

His gaze wanders away from the screen of his hefty Dell laptop and out the window of his apartment. DC’s low rising buildings span out in front of him. His gut aches; he misses New York already. But he knows being there would only mangle his soul further, seeing his already alien home torn to shreds by literal space whales. He huffs, thinking of Bucky’s comics. His stories came to life after all. Bucky would have probably vibrated out of his skin if he knew there was other life out there.

To: My astronaut

How’s space treating you? It’s treating me pretty badly, if I’m being honest. If only you could see what it’s done to Brooklyn. I think you’d be pretty mad at it if you knew…

Steve hesitates, reading back over what he’s typed. It’s stupid as hell, and he cringes, but he doesn’t backspace. His fingers find the keys again.

I miss you something awful. I don’t think that even encompasses how much I’m hurting without you. I feel so lost right now-- space is much bigger and scarier than you’d think. I know you’d love it. I wish you could see bits of it, but god, I just want to go home. I want you to come home.

Steve freezes again and finds the screen blurry where tears have welled in his eyes. His jaw clenches as he pictures the way Bucky would laugh at him-- teasing him for his dramatics and ruffling his hair. He wishes he could be there now, rolling his eyes and nudging Steve’s shoulder.

“What’re you upsetting yourself for?” He’d say, gently closing the laptop and coaxing Steve into his arms. “I’m right here, pal.”

And if Steve closes his eyes, he can almost feel Bucky’s warmth enveloping him. But he’s not there. He’s dead, and Steve’s a goddamn ghost, drifting through a future that doesn’t know him.

He opens his eyes and stares at the text box, then clicks submit.

The screen loads, and his message is gone, his pain forever documented in the abyss.

For someone who fought aliens two weeks after waking up from his impromptu seventy year sleep, Steve’s life is pretty monotonous. He contemplates this unfortunate fact as he stands in front of his toaster, hair sticking up on the back of his head as he nurses a mug of coffee and waits for his toast to pop.

It’s 5:45 in the morning and he tries to remember a time when he didn’t rise this early. Before the war, perhaps. Though, he’s always been a bit of an early bird. His home life was sporadic to put it lightly and he’d learned from an early age that the sooner he was awake, the better it was for everyone. Vigilance is not a new concept for Steve.

He hasn’t always stayed up late, though. That’s certainly new, and he feels this fact viscerally as he catches sight of his reflection in the microwave. There are bags under his eyes that will be gone by mid-morning thanks to the serum. Dermatologists hate him, Natasha says. Steve thinks he’s pretty lucky that the serum more or less equipped him with a built-in anti-aging agent. His father had started balding by thirty.

His toast pops and he starts a little, blinking blearily at the slightly burnt bread as he pulls it out of the toaster with his thumb and forefinger. He spreads on the same raspberry jam and butter that he uses every morning and tries not to think of how bland it tastes in his mouth as he eats it standing at the counter. Another routine.

He tries not to look at last night’s dishes in the sink as he stacks his plate and silverware on top and doesn’t bother sorting out his hair before pulling on his sneakers and slipping out of his apartment. The sun hasn’t quite risen yet, only the beginning tendrils of light sneaking over the low tops of the DC buildings, and Steve vaguely regrets not grabbing a sweatshirt before he left. It’s not quite Summer yet and the mornings could still get pretty cool.

He’s about to take off down the street when he freezes. Natasha is sitting on the steps of his complex, wearing a pair of pink tinted sunglasses and tossing up and down the keys to her car. Steve blinks, rubs his eyes, then blinks again. Nope. She’s still there.

“Nat?”

Natasha looks up at him and smiles. “Hello.”

Steve shifts, uncomfortable. “Hi. You need something? Is there a mission?”

“No,” Natasha says lightly, standing. “You’re not running this morning, though. Come on, I’m taking you to Starbucks.”

“What?”

“Starbucks. You’re going to try it.”

“I don’t want--”

“Steve, you do the same thing every day. Step out of your comfort zone a little.”

Steve frowns, but Natasha’s right-- he really doesn’t ever stray from his routine.

“Fine,” he says, and twenty minutes later, they’re strolling into the nearest Starbucks.

He’s only been in one before, and that was to use the restroom while on a run. He’d bought a water bottle in an attempt to not be rude and use their facilities without giving them any business, but he hadn’t even considered the expansive menu. All the fancy names were too daunting.

They’re just as daunting now as he stares up at the board, heart hammering out of his chest as he’s faced with indecision. Natasha takes one look at his face, and reaches out to squeeze his arm.

“I’ll order something for you,” she says. “What kind of coffee do you like?”

Steve gives her a pained look. “Um… just coffee?”

Natasha quirks a smile and orders him something called a caramel macchiato. He’ll take it, he guesses.

The drink is too damn sweet and sugary and he almost gags. Still, he was always told to finish what he was given, so he drinks the whole thing.

To: Mr. Sweet Tooth

You’d fucking love it here. Everything is packed with sugar and sweetness-- enough to make even my teeth rot. I had something called a caramel macchiato today and it tasted like someone took your ma’s caramels and condensed them into a cup. I couldn’t stand it, but I know if you were here, you’d want at least twelve. I hope you’re enjoying all the sweets you can up in space.

Love, Mr. Boring

Steve’s fingers are stiff and frozen as he works at the straps of his stealth suit. The tangy taste of saltwater still sits heavy on his tongue, and he clenches his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering too harshly as he finally peels off his suit. It’s not much better, being naked, but at least the wet fabric isn’t clinging to him anymore.

The mission had been pretty straightforward until some alien tech managed to blast the quinjet to kingdom come, and they all free-fell straight into the freezing Atlantic.

Steve had managed to keep it together as they took down the goddamn mad scientist that fucked them over, but now that he’s home and alone, he can feel the adrenaline crashing.

He’s shaking from more than just the cold as he draws himself a warm bath, and he pulls his knees up to his chest, trying to breathe through the panic that wants to engulf his entire being.

He loses time for a bit, and comes back to himself lying in his bed, burrowed under several thick layers. He feels so cold, down to his very soul-- a chill that he can never seem to truly shake, even when he’s warm.

Not for the first time, he wishes Bucky were there to hold him. He slips off to sleep thinking old, comforting thoughts of Bucky rubbing his hands between his own, coaxing his head under his chin to engulf him in that natural warmth of his. He always was a fucking furnace.

But when Steve wakes an hour later, shaking hard enough to move the bed with the force of the nightmare he’d dropped into, Bucky is not there to soothe away the ice.

To: JB

im so cold and i cant breathe ever and nothing feels right. I dont know what to do, u were always the problem solver between us and i cant think straight right now and i just want you here please. I cant do this anymore, im so tired please come back. I need you please

The Winter Soldier file sits in front of Steve-- a horrifying nightmare wrapped up in a neat brown folder. Residual nausea swirls around in his gut as he comes down from the horrible high of reading through the contents. His hands shake where they grasp the thick paper. His heart clenches hard in his chest.

Bucky is alive. Bucky is alive, and he’s been unmade.

Steve doesn’t know where he is-- if he’s escaped, or if Hydra found him again. It’s been three weeks now since the helicarriers, and he’s only just gotten the courage to sit down and wade through the shit that is Bucky’s reality.

He just hopes he’s safe. God, he hopes.

Sam says he’ll help him look, and Steve needs to know he’s at least out of danger, but he barely knows where to start.

And he’s sorry. He’s so fucking sorry.

Blinking out of his reverie, Steve looks at his laptop. He feels strange and detached as he reaches for it and logs in.

To: Bucky

And yes, that feels right. He should use his name, since he suspects no one has for a long, long time.

I’m so sorry for what happened to you. I’m sorry that you’ve been hurting so quietly for so long. I understand if you’re not ready to come home-- I understand if you never are. I just hope that you know that there will always be a place with me that is safe. I love you so much and I’m here, forever and always.

Love, Steve.

He’s not naive. He knows it would be dangerous to submit that particular message, so he doesn’t. But that’s okay. That one’s just for him-- for them.

“Steve? What is the… Unsent Project?”

Steve frowns and pokes his head out of the kitchen. Bucky is sitting on the couch in the living room, using his laptop, because his own is having storage issues.

Bucky looks at him. “It’s one of your saved tabs. What is it?”

And oh, fuck. Steve had forgotten to remove that from his homepage-- it really wasn’t needed anymore. He blushes all the way to his ears.

“Oh, it’s-- nothing. Not anything important--”

But Bucky has already clicked on the tab.

“The Unsent Project,” he reads aloud. “A collection of unsent text messages to… first… loves…”

He trails off as he processes what he’s looking at, and Steve can’t quite read his expression when he looks at him again. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he’s looking at Steve like he’s some sort of kicked puppy. Steve shifts, uncomfortable.

“Were you sending me… messages? While I was dead?”

Steve swallows. “Um…” and now that Bucky says it out loud, it really does sound quite sad. He shrugs. “It’s Natasha’s fault?”

Bucky shakes his head, clicking on the search bar. He starts to type his name, but Steve shakes his head.

“I didn’t use your name.”

“Oh,” Bucky says, then frowns at him again. “What did you use?”

Steve blushes harder, sitting next to Bucky and taking the laptop from him.

“Um…” he hesitates, then types what he was sure he used as his first alias.

My astronaut

The screen buffers and loads, then fifty or so messages pop up. Steve scrolls down-- it doesn’t take long to find his.

They’re both quiet as they read, and Steve cringes. Jeez, he really had been pretty dramatic. Next to him, Bucky makes a hurt noise.

“Oh, honey,” he murmurs, taking the laptop back from Steve. He reads the message again, then once more, and reaches out for Steve. “Aw, I’m here now.”

Steve huffs, embarrassed. “I know,” he says. “That was way back, like, three weeks after I woke up.”

Bucky stills. “You fought aliens three weeks after you woke up?”

“... More like two.”

Bucky hums. “Are there others?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, reaching out to type on Bucky’s lap, because Bucky is holding him now and he’s quite reluctant to move. He thinks for a moment, then types in the next one he remembers.

Mr. Sweet Tooth

Bucky laughs, and Steve finds himself smiling.

“I find this funny,” Bucky says. “Because caramel macchiatos are definitely one of my favorites now.”

Steve laughs, too, and butts his head against Bucky’s shoulder.

“If only I could tell that to myself back then-- he’d be thrilled.”

“I’m sure,” Bucky says. “Any more?”

Steve hesitates, thinking of the one he’d sent after that nightmare-- when he was low and hurting. Incoherent. He isn’t sure he wants Bucky to see that particular side of his soul, but Bucky has been more than generous in letting him in on his pains nowaday, and it’s not like Bucky hasn’t witnessed Steve’s own current nightmares.

He bites his lip and types in JB. That seems to yield a lot more results, and it takes a while for Steve to find the message.

He hides his face in Bucky’s neck as he reads. Bucky’s arms gradually tighten around him, and a moment later, he feels him kiss the top of his head.

“Honey, I hate that you were hurting so bad,” Bucky mutters against his hair.

Steve shrugs. “We both were,” he says, and it’s true. There’s something to be said about the guilt they both feel for not being able to save the other person at their lowest, but life hasn’t been kind to them. The vitriol, Steve thinks, should be directed at the goddamn universe for keeping them apart, not themselves for fucking dying. They’re working on it.

Bucky’s quiet for a long time. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he says. “Is that it?”

Steve shakes his head. “But I never sent the last one.”

“Why not?”

“I wrote it after DC.”

He feels Bucky squeeze him again, and he squeezes back.

“Oh.”

“I just-- I wanted you to know that you didn’t have to come home. That I just wanted you to be safe; needed to know you were safe, but it was up to you. I just needed you to know I was here, if you needed me.”

Bucky pulls back then and cups his face, kissing him soundly. Steve’s surprised for only a moment before he’s kissing back.

“I did know that,” Bucky says against his lips. “I needed time-- I was lost-- but the first thing I knew when I remembered who you were was that you were a safe person, because you’d never force me anywhere.”

Steve kisses him again, then pulls him into a hug. “I’m glad you knew that.” It’s warm, where their chests meet, and Bucky is solid beneath him. Real. He isn’t speaking into an abyss anymore.

There’s a sticky note on Bucky’s pillow next to his head when he wakes up the next morning. Steve’s side of the bed is already vacant, and he can’t hear him downstairs. He must have already left for a run.

Propping himself on an elbow, Bucky plucks up the sticky note.

To: My Bucky

Thank you for choosing me to be your home, and thank you forever, for being mine.

I love you with everything I have.

Love, your Steve

Bucky smiles, heart light as he folds the notes. He’ll keep that one with him, he thinks. A little bit of home to bring wherever he goes.

anyway yeah fslkjflaskjfls i-- ouch. anything to do with letters w these two hurts me immensely

#i did not proofread this at all so i just kNOW im going to read this back later and find a whole bunch of typos oops #stucky #stucky fic #steve rogers #bucky barnes #idiots in love #sad stevie aw

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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years

Text

Who Knows The Way I Love You

(A Valentine’s Day Harringrove ficlet! <3)

Leave it up to Steve’s mother, queen of control freaks and master of all life-ruiners to have arranged a date for him. Especially today, Valentine's Day.

For ages now she’s been harping on him about how disappointed she is in his lack of motivation to grow up. She felt that at 19 he was too old to still be at home, a mooch and an embarrassment to the family name, all because she had moved out when she was just 17 and got married in the same year and he’s, well, nothing like that.

The fact that she isn’t happy in that marriage never seems to come up when she’s making that argument though.

But apparently she’s taken matters into her own hands again, arranging for him to meet with some random bachelorette in hopes they’ll fall madly in love and he’ll want to move out immediately so she can finally have the house to herself. Maybe a few grand babies to dote on in a few years to make her feel like a good mother. The usual.

Of course she would wait until the day of to tell him too, casually over black coffee he hates the bitter taste of mentioning offhandedly, “You’re meeting with the Thompson girl tonight.”

He hadn’t known what to say except, “Meeting up as in, like, a date?”

“That’s what I said, Steven.” Her tone was serious, harsh even, as she monotonously explained the details, “You’ll pick her up at seven. Don’t be a minute late. I’ve already picked out a suit, just try to do something with that hair of yours, would you?”

At that point, he’d been perfectly content with nodding along, only hearing her request, ignoring it, then immediately forgetting, but she just had to add, before she turned on her heel and left him to think on it, “Oh and dear, please don’t do anything rash like last time. Lord knows how everyone talked after the Wheeler girl. If you must make a fool of yourself, do it quietly.”

It’s not that Steve had been really surprised, because again, his mother’s been trying to shape him into the perfect son since he was in diapers, which most of the time meant being judgemental as hell, and playing the love doctor since he was old enough to date, hand picking all his girlfriends to try to ensure her future daughter in law would be just perfect. It was amazing how every time, without fail, she always picked girls Steve couldn’t stand or get along with in the least bit.

Growing up in his mansion by parents too snobbish to deal with the less desirable aspects of parenting, he knew there was no way they could even know him all that well, but it still sung, just a little, every time his mother would force him to go out with any old rich debutante that struck her fancy without knowing what he cared for. Which happened to not be women at all, but that was beside the point.

Because vacations and family photos, that was all fine and easy, but teaching their kid a life skill or two, maybe sticking around long enough to make sure he wasn’t a walking anxious disaster, that was too far below them. And that’s exactly why they, or more specifically his mother (his dad probably doesn’t even know Steve’s ever had a girlfriend) think he needs every last part of his life predetermined to avoid the failures they had ultimately set him up for.

Like when his mother made him go to the country club his freshman year on weekend dates with Tina, who talked like a snob and thought she was better than him in every way. Or similarly when he had to take the Holloway’s daughter to the most expensive sit down restaurant just outside of Hawkins, this one the polar opposite of Tina, again leaving him with absolutely no idea how to conduct himself. She’d never even said a single word to him. At least breaking it off didn’t reflect back onto him.

All he’d realized from it was that he could barely manage small talk with any of the girls she wanted for him, let alone planning his whole damned future with them.

The only partner he’d ever really chosen for himself was Nancy Wheeler, and well, he didn’t even want to think about how that one ended. Or that maybe he never really loved her in the first place, that she was instead just an experiment to test his independence he got too attached to. Or, regardless of his feelings, the fact that it’s been thrown back in his face about a thousand times since as proof he shouldn’t be out there on his own. Like having one failed romance meant he had to just tuck his tail and drop whatever he was doing for her matchmaking bullshit.

Well wouldn’t she be disappointed to hear he already had a date, and she wouldn’t be getting her perfect little daughter in law anytime soon? He’d bet her heart would break clean in two.

Because this wasn’t just the case of your typical, rebellious well-off teenager dating the-girl-next-door to offend his beloved parents while ultimately still following the rules, he’d done all that before. It’s juvenile.

This, this was more like taking everything they had ever raised him to be and turning it on it’s head.

Steve has a boyfriend. Well, a sort of a boyfriend. They never used that word, in Steve’s case mostly because he can’t handle the commitment just yet. He can thank Ruth Harrington for that one.

Ironically, the fact that this partner of his was a boy somehow probably wasn’t enough to shred her sensibilities into nothing but hatred on its own, but that ambiguity, the hesitation to commit for the rest of his life into something romantic, that might just do the trick.

He just couldn’t help himself. When Billy Hargrove rolled into Hawkins straight off the pages of a magazine, he saw an opportunity. Recognized his chance in the pierced left ear and the fashions right out of the Castro district, so he made his move as soon as they were over the bullying thing. His mothers expectations be damned.

So, of course Steve will not be going to dinner with Tammy Thompson, not that he’d ever want to in the first place, his plan was always to go over to Billy’s place.

Besides, it’s fourteenth of February, Valentine’s Day, and Billy’s dad is out of town. They might not be ready for labels, and very rightly so, but Steve is still not going to let an opportunity like that slide. All that wasted romance on girls he wanted nothing to do with could now be freely funneled into the first person he’d ever truly wanted to spend his forever with.

It’s admittedly not their usual speed, but they’d planned a night in for the holiday. Everything about it was probably too intimate for the current status of their relationship, putting Steve between equal nerves and excitement. Anticipation for getting to act like a couple, bring his boy a card and a kiss on the cheek in celebration, couple right with the fear of getting too comfortable in something that the stability of was constantly threatened, be that by societal rule of his mother.

The fact of the matter is though, they didn’t exactly want to be caught together on Valentine’s Day either, even if it was just at a random party. Rumors spread fast in Hawkins, Steve’d been around that all his life and learned it doubly well since his most recent breakup, so they both agreed it was best to just spend the night alone.

And honestly, Steve was okay with that, actually sort of desperate for that normalcy he’d come to develop with Billy since they’d started this dating thing, but that hesitation in his chest still lingers. That idea that maybe he should just go through with what his mother wants and leave Billy hanging, since they’re not technically official yet anyways.

It’s a guilty thought to have, but he’s never been the type to be able to completely disregard what his parents think, especially when it comes to this. To the one thing he’d fucking failed at doing right countless times; being their perfect son who’d follow every rule and continue on the family legacy before he had time to grow into his own life.

Still, he’d really hate to lose Billy over something so trivial, and he thinks he’d hate it even more to be hitched to some random chick he’d end up either hating or leaving anyways, so, as it stands, he’s headed for Cherry Lane.

He tosses his stupid, and probably poorly thought out, little drugstore gifts in the shapes of cartoon hearts and withering roses into his backseat, and drives the familiar route to Billy’s house. Not that he’d stopped there often, the same authoritarian whose absence meant tonight was possible the very reason he didn’t usually come out this way, but, every so often, Billy’d need him to come by.

He’d have just one too many to drink while they were out and need dropped off a little closer to home, or maybe he’d be a little extra lonely, in need, and beg Steve to actually come in, again only on days when it was safe. All the same, Steve gets there without any extra stress to add on top of that tightness in his chest, that uncomfortable mixture of longing and fear that washes heavy over him.

He powers through the anxiety and marches right over to Billy’s window, standing on his toes to reach the pane just above his head and tapping on the glass with his knuckles, knowing the other boy would be nearby. Waiting up for him, even if it still took him a moment to answer, just enough of a pause to not seem like he isn’t eager.

Steve smiles wide as the bottom finally slides up, a groggy looking blonde peeking out down at him, “Could’ve used the door, H. Neil’s not home.”

“Yeah, I know. Thought this’d be more romantic.” Billy pauses for a second, like he’s processing what Steve said, before an equal smile cracks across his face, extending a hand down to Steve and remarking, “Get your ass in here.”

The first thing Steve does, once he pulls himself up into the room with only minor effort, is thrust those cheesy gifts he’d brought out towards the other boy. He has no words, just a slightly flushed, overly self-confident expression he hopes reads a little cooler than it sounds.

Billy thankfully doesn’t freak out, doesn’t tear the card in half or smash the flowers into the carpet like the more anxious parts of Steve’s mind convinced himself was a possibility. He just looks down at what’s in his hands, clearly not knowing what to say other than, after another moments pause, “You goin’ soft on me, Harrington?”

Steve shrugs, adding to make himself sound like he’s on Billy’s level or to make him laugh, he isn’t sure, “You wish, Hargrove. These were supposed to be for some chick.”

“Ah, but you still decided to give them to me.” Billy smirks, licks his teeth, takes another step forward. They’re teasing around something, literally. Pulling pigtails like they do best.

“Who else would? You know, I consider myself quite the charitable guy.”

One more step, Billy mutters, close enough that Steve can count the freckles on his nose, feel the hitch in his breath when Billy says, “I consider you an obnoxious asshole.”

It’s Steve who makes the first move from there, closing that tiny gap that was left between them to connect their lips, an open-mouthed kiss he presses forward into until Billy’s knees buckle and they both fall back against his bed. Hands wander, the kiss deepens, passions dance. That’s the way it always is with Billy, since the very first time he’d grabbed Steve a little too rough and kissed him the same way.

They’re awkward and they’re a little clashy but Steve at least gets absolutely lost in it. Could just sit and make out with him all day and never notice that the world kept turning without them. It’s what drew him in and just one of the many things that kept him around. Kept the idea in his heart so solid that Billy was his one.

He’s glad he chose this. Any lingering regrets melting away with his fears of approaching Billy so vulnerably. So demanding of something he wasn’t sure they were ready to have.

Still, in the moment, once his thoughts wander back to the warm hands under his shirt, the tongue halfway down his throat, he breaks it off. As much as he could lose track of everything, he can tell things are probably going to go further tonight, it is a special occasion after all, and he wants to be ready for that.

Steve pushes up off the bed, off of Billy, wandering towards the bookshelves where Billy lines up his music. If he is finally going to give up that one last milestone, he tells himself the music will ground him, keep his thoughts from wandering. From assuming the sex is all they’ll ever amount to just like all his other partners did.

Billy lacks the context of that internal dilemma though, throwing an arm dramatically over his face and complaining, “Where’re you goin’?”

“Need a soundtrack. Don’t like the quiet.” For a moment, Steve wishes he’d thought of this sooner and brought his own, because as he pushes through the stacks of tapes, it’s all the stuff he’s been bitching about Billy turning off every time he’s in his car, “God, do you have anything in here that’s not for crazy metalheads?”

Billy sits up on his elbows, interjecting, his tone a whine, “Why the hell’s it matter what the music is? Jus’ pick something.”

“Because it’s Valentine’s Day, Bills.” Steve rolls his eyes, muttering as he pushes yet another row of tapes out of the way, “I’ll keep it in my pants if the only option is this garbage.”

Billy sighs heavily, definitely playing up the drama on purpose, but he gives Steve a clue in so he’ll stop stalling already, “Third row from the front. Far left.”

Steve follows his directions with his finger, smearing dust off of older I played tapes at the back, landing on a particular mix. It’s half played. The title is scratched on in blue pen, but instead of being numbered like most of the rest of his mixtapes are, as Steve had come to learn, this one simply has a picture of a crown and a heart scribbled next to it. Something something along Steve.

He flips it around, can tell Billy is flustered by the idea of him hearing it, or even holding itx if the flush that's started creeping up his neck under Jose golden curls that spill over his shoulders is any indication. “What is this, B?”

“What you wanted.” Billy grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest and almost demanding, “Just get your ass back over here.”

But Steve is distracted, slotting the cassette into the clunky, beat-up player, standing in place until the static cuts through into music. He doesn’t recognize the song, it’s some disco era love song. Leo Sayer maybe.

Doesn’t matter, because Billy is embarrassed by it all the same, and Steve is going to milk that for all it’s worth. He knows the tape was for him, and that he was also never supposed to find it. It’s a touching gesture really, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t have something to tease Billy about on a night when he brought him fucking flowers.

He sways to the music a little, making Billy groan and put his head in his hands, “What are you doing, Stevie?”

He just laughs a little, does a little turn in the center of the room. Not really dancing as much as he is teasing his boyfriend about his sappy secret taste in seventies love songs.

Billy, now blushing about as red as the roses on his nightstand, hooks his fingers through Steve’s belt loops, tugging him back over, interrupting his little moment. Steve lets Billy pull him where he wants him, which is in his lap.

Billy holds an arm around Steve’s waist, kissing him again before they have time to say anything else. Because really, they don’t need words. Not right now.

There’s a distinct lack of the heat they had before though. No expectations this time, no next steps behind this particular union. Steve likes it that way. Likes the feeling of warmth and love and appreciation of the moment. It’s why he came here tonight. It’s why Billy makes him feel special.

Steve realizes then, that he can’t deny it anymore; He’s fully in love with Billy Hargrove.

When the time comes to take a breath, it’s Steve who pulls back, when Billy leans in again, pressing their foreheads together as a sort of reminder that he needs a minute. He can’t help the loose smile that crosses his face then, “Who would've guessed that Billy Hargrove was such a romantic?”

Billy returns it, somehow almost bashful, even though he’d initiated this, “There’s lots’a things you don’t know about me.”

“Like what?” Steve urges him along playfull, genuinely making Billy stop and think.

That’s yet another thing about the two of them. The charm between them doesn’t come so easy as it does in other settings. It’s never that same practiced shtick they have to put on for all the pretty girls and watching eyes, they keep each other on their toes, in a challenging, complete sort of way. In a way that almost says- I’ll always keep trying to be my best for you.

Billy hums, trying his damndest to be cheesy back if his lopsided smile says anything, “Like.. how I got a hundred numbers my first week in town and still chose you.”

“Pfft, I could’ve guessed that one. No one would pass me by if they had the chance.” It makes them both laugh, soft chuckles drowned out by the continuous music from the stereo, it’s natural setting just a little too loud because of the double speakers. Steve prompts further, “Try again.”

“Okay. Bet you have no idea how much I love you.”

There’s a pause. The tape clicks as the ribbon runs out. Billy’s room is suddenly silent.

If they haven’t even officially used the word ‘boyfriend,’ they definitely haven't said those words out loud yet. Steve had just come to terms with it in his head. Neither of them were ready for that.

“Did you just say-“ Steve starts, leaning back to look at more of Billy, who at the same time almost instantly interrupts with, “-I did.”

“I thought we weren’t-“ Again Steve tries, but the same thing happens, Billy cutting him off, his voice increasingly shaky, “-I didn’t mean to go too far.”

“You didn’t, I jus-“ Once more, “-I’m an idiot H. Was trying to be sly and it just sorta, slipped out and I-“

“Billy. Listen to me.” Steve raises his tone just a little, firm enough to interrupt the panic he knows is taking root in the other boy's thoughts, but gentle enough it won’t register as condescending.

“Just spit it out, H.” Billy starts, mumbling once he realizes he’s doing the same thing, meaning not listening, “Sorry.”

“No, s’okay. Just wanna talk about it.” Steve slides out of Billy’s lap, the position sort of inappropriate for this type of conversation, settling beside him so they can talk more comfortably, “I’m not like, mad that you said it. I’ve kinda.. wanted you to for a while actually.”

Billy looks at him, a reflection of shock and confusion, the look of someone who’s too busy blaming themself to hear the truth, “We’ve only been together for like, a month though, Steve.”

“I know, but you can’t tell me this isn’t special. I’ve at least known it was since the first time I saw you.” Steve tries, but Billy's face contorts again, his eyes narrowing and his smile fading even deeper into a frown, this time taking it the wrong way, “I tell you how I feel and you’re trying to show me up now?”

“No! I told you to just listen. You’re throwing me off. Just- lemme start over.” Steve shakes his head, feeling Billy's sharpened gaze follow his every move. He sighs and tries from the beginning, “I know it feels sort of like we’re rushing things, but it’s just different with you, Billy. It’s like, I feel like this is actually where I want to be, and like I always want you to be with me. Like I’m drawn to you all the time and I can’t wait for the next time I get to kiss your stupid face.”

Billy gets it, finally, “So.. like you love me.”

Steve hesitates at the wording, finding it just as hard to admit those feelings, mostly because of the last time he did, “Yeah, just like that. And I do.”

“Say it then.” Billy shifts closer, physically and in the conversation, intense and passionate. It gives Steve the impression he’s had a similar experience as he did.

“I’ll save it for a special moment.” Steve promises, half-way between joking and deflecting. The way Billy’s face crumbles sways him though, “..And seeing as tonight’s Valentines Day, And we’re here all alone..”

Steve leans forward and kisses him again softly, muttering against the warmth of Billy’s lips, a promise made all the more personal by the gesture, “Love you, Billy.”

When he pulls away again, the tension has gone again. Billy deadpans, though clearly not meaning it, “You’re a dick.”

“Aw, but you love it.”

“No shit, I said it first.”

“Still can’t believe that. I thought I was supposed to be the romantic one. I even brought you flowers.”

“Just had to throw you off your game.” Billy shrugs comfortably, their entire tone finally having shifted more to genuinely being able to laugh at themselves and each other, the motive of getting under the other’s skin seemingly dissipated by their mutual declaration, painful as it was.

“Say it again and it just might work.”

“I can’t. S’a heat of the moment thing.” It’s Steve this time who pouts, glassy eyes and pretty puffy lips demanding something more from Billy, who caves, “Fine. Don’t make those eyes at me. I’m already in love with you.”

Steve shakes his head, between being encouraging and just being plain stubborn, “You’re talking around it again. Just say I love you.”

“I’m tired of just talkin’. We’ve only got like, two hours left tops ‘til you’ve gotta be far away from here and we’re wastin’ it. Why don’t we do something?”

“Something like..?” Steve prompts, one eyebrow raised, the expression and the question both making Billy chuckle warmly, and counter with, “You really gonna make me say it? Just get back over here, pretty boy, ‘n I’ll show ya.”

“Hm. Shouldn’t you reset the tape first?”

“You’re never gonna let me live tonight down are ya?”

“Never.”

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #billy x steve #ej writer #story by ej!#it’s Valentines!#went digging in my drafts and found this reject from last year so I spruced it up et viola #this is basically #gay! Steve #the boys hiding their feelings and being generally difficult #and idk me just exploring internal conflicts as an outer thing #idk I’m in theater classes rn this was almost written like a play until I read it back through and realized #but! here’s something #sorry for my absence this is the best I can do rn

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somegymnast · 3 years

Text

Happy Birthday Cav!!

Happy birthday @cavendishbutterfly!! I hope you had an amazing day and that the next year brings you all the happiness in the world 💕💕 thank you for being my first friend on here and for making my whole fandom experience a million times better! You are such a talented writer and I’ve loved everything you’ve written but here is a special mention to some of my faves! Hope everyone enjoys these as much as I did :)

Playing Games (T, 2k)

Harry and Draco have had enough of Hermione and Ron’s insufferable couples parties. What are the two single boys to do other than lock themselves in a game room together?

this was a bday fic for me so this is my bday present back to Cav, and I hope this can at least come a bit close to how happy this fic made me!

Bridges (E, 16k)

Harry and Draco are on a trip to Budapest to help with Kingsley's re-election, but that's the boring bit. More interesting: Harry Potter is changing his Tinder preferences to include men. Also interesting: Harry's spending more time with Draco Malfoy than he ever has, wandering around the city. And Harry doesn't hate it. The city's pretty gorgeous too.

Or: This is the author's love letter to Budapest, Hungary.

this fic is just beautiful and it made me fall in love with a city i’ve never even been to. what an absolute gem of a fic it just hits all the right spots and was so amazing!

Just A Phone Call Away (M, 3k)

Today’s the day: Harry’s getting over his ridiculous crush on Draco Malfoy. Even if Draco’s just invited himself over to wash Harry’s hair. In a very platonic way, obviously. Not intimate at all.

They can just be friends, right?

omg so many feelings and them being co-workers and trying to work out their feelings in a very drarry way is just perfect and hits all of my faves, also it was written for sudsfest which is also one of my faves so its just perfect all over

Haircut (T, 1k)

Draco's cutting Harry's hair short for the first time. He's going to make them look sexy. It'll be great.

Harry's just not sure whether their new haircut's going to stick around.

this is just so soft and it made me so happy!

In The Wings (T, 1k)

Ballet has been a path to healing for Draco after the war. Now, it's his final performance in the starring role, and his boyfriend is in the audience for the first time.

this just brought me right back to amazing childhood memories of going to see the ballet.

Ship Dynamics Worth Debating (T, 4k)

Nine drarry ficlets: everything from falling asleep together to sexy afternoon yardwork

every single one of these is amazing and so so cute!

#happy birthday cav!!#cav being the coolest!#drarry fic rec #fic rec #rec list #drarry rec list #drarry #harry potter #draco malfoy

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peralta-guaranteed · 3 years

Note

I love your writing! Can I ask for a ficlet, before jake and Amy knew about the pregnancy, where Amy cries for everything and jake tries to comfort her?

(they figured out the Mac-emotions she was having pretty quickly so I feel like there weren't many instances where Jake had to comfort Amy without knowing what was up, so I hope you're okay with this being bébé 2's work)

There's soft sobs coming from the living room, and they're not the toddler kind - they shouldn't be, either, since the only toddler in question is currently making playnoises from an entirely different room down the hallway - so Jake is quick to jog over to the couch to find his wife in pieces, tears streaking down her face as she stares at the television.

"What's wrong, babe?" He cards a hand through her hair before sitting down and pulling her into a hug, but she only points at the tv, which is playing an animal documentary of all things - not exactly a good source for emotional turmoil. Amy usually likes the soothing voice of Sir David Attenborough, but something must've been terrible to get her into this state.

"The- the Mama bird." She hiccups and presses deeper into his arms. "She- she has to work so hard to get the nest right. There's not enough sticks!"

"Okay?" He gives the screen a good look, where some sort of giant stork is building something. "It looks like she's doing a really good job, Ames."

"It's just so hard!" She sobs again before pushing her face into his neck, and he makes the executive decision to turn off the tv before he softly sways her, glad she's not looking up to see his "WTF?"-face turn into an "Wait a minute"-expression as his brain catches up.

-*-

Her shoulders are shaking when he carries Mac into the kitchen for breakfast, and even with her back turned to them and facing the coffee machine he can tell she's crying from her body posture.

Luckily Mac doesn't put up much of a fuss getting strapped into his high chair this time, and after handing him a rice husk to chew on before actual food, Jake can walk over to Amy to wrap his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"What's wrong, babe?" He whispers softly, and is glad to feel her lean back against him for comfort.

"The stupid machine hates me." She points a shaky finger towards the coffee maker. "It won't close and I keep pushing the buttons but it's only beeping and it hates me." He hears a sniffle as he inspects the accused machinery in front of him.

"You got the filter in the wrong way." He says carefully while he fixes it, his arms still around her as he swaps the pot and filter around, pushes it all back in and presses a button to make the wole thing come to life and start bubbling away.

She whines, quietly, and Jake is quick to wrap his arms around her again.

"It hates me."

"You're just tired, babe. It's a cruel irony that you need coffee to be awake enough to make coffee sometimes."

She rubs her eyes while he kisses her cheek, before letting go to get Mac his usual breakfast banana and yoghurt mush, but there's a slightly stronger suspicion creeping up from the back of his head. He tries his hardest not to let it show in the big grin their little boy gets with his airplane-spoon.

-*-

"We need a new mattress." Her voice is far too strained for such a simple statement, and he considers flicking his sidetable lamp back on to see her face in the dark of their bedroom, but scooches closer to her instead and hearing that tell-tale sniffle.

"Why, Ames? We still got warranty on it, and it's fine-"

"There's just no way to lie comfortably anywhere!" She hiccups while fruitlessly punching the pillow underneath her, shifting around and around in frustration.

"Hey." He pulls her arms towards her, and the rest of her too, blanketing her in a comfortable enough hug to make her sigh into his chest. She shivers when his hands run up and down her sides, and a massaging press into her lower back gets him a soft little whine and a few more tears soaking into his shirt.

"This hurts?" He asks carefully as his fingers continue to rub softer circles around her back dimples, but a shake of her head makes him press in a bit harder.

"Helps, actually." She mumbles against his chest as his massage continues, and he tries to piece one and one together once more.

"Are you getting your period soon?" He's trying to be careful with that question, considering they've only really talked about trying again about a month ago, and the fear and worry of all those horrible painful reminders of their 'failure' crept back in immediately. But it would be a logical explanation for her many outbursts, and the soreness and discomfort she usually gets right before her time of the month.

One of the explanations he can think of, at least. He's a bit too scared of upsetting her even more with the other one that's been swirling round in his thoughts for days.

"No." She shakes her head against him again. "I shoulda had it-"

She shoots up all of a sudden, and his hands stop their massage as she stares at him with red-rimmed eyes.

"Jake."

"I'm gonna buy a test."

"No." She sobs again as he already sits up and pulls the duvet aside, holding onto his arm. "No, it's gonna be- it won't-"

"We won't know until we know, babe."

She whines, even more high-pitched as her grip tightens, and he leans back over to her to hold her face.

"I'm scared." She whispers with more tears streaking down over his soothing thumbs. "I don't want to see- not again."

"It's only been a month, Ames. If it's negative, it's fine. We got time. We said we'd take it slower this time."

He stops her sob with a kiss, and waits until her tears have stopped too, before jumping out of bed and throwing on some more acceptable sweats and a jacket.

There's a thrum of excitement racing through his heart, even as the cashier at the 24/7 market gives him a leery look for buying a pregnancy test at 2am, and it doesn't subside as he bounds back up the stairs to their apartment.

-*-

Amy opens the door of the bathroom she's barricaded herself in for five minutes with tear-filled eyes and puffy red cheeks, and Jake jumps up from his position on the floor, leant next to the door to be as close as possible. The tears only start flowing completely as he cradles her face, and he presses his forehead against hers with closed eyes and a sigh.

"I'm so sorry, babes, I shouldn't have pushed you." He tries to comfort her even as his own heart sinks back from its previous happy jumps. "I'm- but it's okay, like I said, we got time and we can talk to your doc again and-"

"No." Amy shakes her head again, as little as she can without breaking from his hold and staying firm against his forehead too. "Jake, we've got no time at all anymore."

"What-"

She laughs even as she continues to cry, and he was too blinded by nervousness to see the absolute glow on her puffy face, the shine in her eyes he notices now. He's not too blind to see the two dark blue lines on the test she holds up, though.

He pulls her in for a deep kiss as she continues to cry and laugh at the same time, and he joins in with her giggles as they part.

"We're having another baby?"

"We're having another baby."

He kisses her again as he wipes the last few tears off her cheeks, even as she has to do the same for the ones trailing down his face now.

#B99 #Brooklyn 99 #Peraltiago #Jake Peralta #Amy Santiago #my writing #ficlet #fic

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gamergirl929 · 4 years

Text

I’m Coming Out (Krashlyn x Daughter!Reader)

@discordedme Request: Hi, your writing is amazing 😍😍 and i look forward to reading your ficlets every time you post. As a request could you possibly do one where r is Ashlyn Harris's daughter that she had when she was still a teenager (like 16). And reader is now on the national team with Krashlyn and they act like parents, and just fluff (maybe like a first cap or injury, idk). You don't have to it would just be really cool. Thx. 😁

NOTE: I discussed with the requester and tweaked things a bit to differ from the request, BUT I hope everyone likes it nonetheless.

ALSO going to add in this prompt as well, they’re VERY similar.

Anonymous Request: Can you do a Krashlyn kid and just their interactions with them and the team? (They are also a soccer player)

You pinch the bridge of your nose as you sink a goal in the back of the net, whistles and claps sounding from the side of the pitch.

“WAY TO GO BABY!” Ali yells, your cheeks flushing bright red.

“THAT’S MY GIRL!” Ashlyn yells.

From out of nowhere you’re lifted into the air, your mother hugging you tightly to her chest.

“Oh my god, we’re just at practice.” You mumble under your breath, your cheeks now blood red.

Ali laughs as she makes her way towards you and Ashlyn.

“I think we’re embarrassing her.”

Ashlyn grins mischievously, digging her knuckles into the top of your head, your sweaty hair now even messier than it was before.

“Mommmmmmmmmmmmmmm!” You whine, your bottom lip jutted out.

“Yeah mommmmm!” Emily mocks you, hazel orbs widening when you sprint after her, the woman screeching loudly as she runs away.

Kelley shakes her head as she watches you chase Emily, eventually catching her and tackling her to the ground.

“Kids, right?” She grins as she ‘tries’ to rest her elbow on Ashlyn’s shoulder, though she’s unable to thanks to her height.

Ashlyn shakes her head as you and Emily tussle on the ground.

Ali rolls her eyes, making her way over to the two of you.

“Knock it off you two!”

The two of you sit up, glaring playfully at one another before you turn to Ali.

“SHE STARTED IT!” You both yell at the same time, turning back to one another, giving each other a playful shove before you’re again playfully wrestling.

Ashlyn shakes her head, turning to Kelley.

“Idiots.”

***

Ashlyn would admit, she had you WAY too young.

Getting pregnant at 16 was never what she had planned, but when she DID have you, you were the best thing to ever happen to her.

You kept her head up when she was feeling low, you were there for her when she joined the NWSL and eventually when she joined the USWNT.

You weren’t far behind, the older you got, the more interest you showed in soccer, following in your mother’s footsteps and joining the NWSL before you were inevitably called up to the USWNT.

Many said it was because your last name was Harris, but those in the NWSL knew it was because of your talent with the ball and as a forward, something that pleased Ashlyn to NO end.

Of course, as you grew, Ali Krieger became a constant in your life, the woman a mother figure to you even before she and Ashlyn got together, WHICH you always knew they would.

You knew even before Ashlyn did that the two would be together, neither even realizing they looked at one another like they had hung the stars for one another.

You hoped one day you would find a relationship like that.

You clear your throat, pulled from you trance as Ali gives you a nudge.

“Seem a little distracted.” She whispers and you shrug.

“Maybe a little.”

On the other side of you, Ashlyn lets out a snore, the woman having fallen fast asleep during movie night.

“What’s on your mind kid?” She asks, smiling when you move to rest your head on her shoulder.

“You and mom.” You mumble, Ali’s brows furrowing as she turns towards you.

“Just how you guys were so oblivious.” You snicker, Ali rolling her eyes playfully, cheeks flushing.

“Oh, we were?” She asks and you snort.

“You were, you guys used to just stare each other like a couple of weirdos.” You stick your tongue out, Ali wrapping her arms around you.

“It was your mother who was the oblivious one.”

You grin, glancing at the woman who’s snoring softly.

“I mean, she’s pretty oblivious, about everything.”

Ali giggles, reaching around you to run her fingers through Ashlyn’s hair, the blonde smiling in her sleep.

“That she is.”

You hum, snuggling between the two of them, leaning heavily against the sleeping blonde beside you, the blonde whose arms slip around you.

Ali wraps her arms around the two of you, making you the innards of a Krashlyn sandwich.

Eventually, you and Ali fall fast asleep, joining Ashlyn in the world of dreams.

***

You had NO clue why you were so nervous, but you were, you knew they wouldn’t love you any less after you told them, still though, you couldn’t shake your nerves.

“Hey, what’s on your mind?” Emily asks from her seat beside you on the bus.

You shrug, humming softly.

“Just thinking.”

Emily hums, eyeing you out of the corner of her eye.

“It’s more than that.”

Your eyes widen when you feel Emily lean closer, the woman’s nose pressed against your cheek.

“Get off me you weirdo.” You laugh as you playfully swat at her, the defender pouting.

“Hey! This weirdo is worried about you!” She huffs dramatically and you smile, resting your head on her shoulder.

“I guess I’m just nervous.” You shrug, Emily’s brows furrowing as her head rests on top of yours, your cheeks flushing as she does so.

“Why is that?”

You hum.

“I have to tell mom and Ali something, and I’m just nervous.”

Emily hums, grinning.

“Krashlyn are like the least judgmental people on the planet.” Emily scoffs and you laugh.

“I know they are, I’m just overthinking it.”

Emily slips an arm around you and your cheeks flush darker.

“Whatever it is, it’ll be alright, and if it’s not, I’m not afraid to square up.”

You shake your head, barking out a laugh.

“I’d love to see that.”

Towards the back of the bus, Ashlyn and Ali share a glance, the two smiling.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Ali whispers and Ashlyn nods.

“Ohh, I am.”

***

Starting had always been something you loved, it didn’t happen too often considering the USWNT had some of the best forwards in the world, but when it DID happen you tore the field up, something Ashlyn and Ali watched with pride.

This game was no different, Ashlyn and Ali beaming as you race down field, the ball at your feet, running as fast as, if not faster than Christen Press.

Ashlyn lets out a howl as you slip the ball right between the goalkeeper’s legs, sinking it into the back of the net, a massive grin on your face as you throw your fists in the air.

Emily races down field towards you, jumping on your back, something Ashlyn and Ali watch with a grin.

“You think she’s ever going to tell us?” Ashlyn whispers, Ali shrugging.

“She’ll tell us when she’s ready.”

The two smile, softly as you pull Emily into a headlock, ruffling her hair with a chuckle, the blonde pouting when you let her go, her hair a complete mess.

You snort as you, tenderly fix her hair, the blonde’s cheeks flushing as you tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Let’s go Sontron.” You give her a playful shove, the blonde sticking her tongue out as she runs back down field, preparing for play to start again, her own cheeks pink as she takes her place on field.

***

The first to get to you after the game is of course, Emily Sonnett, followed by Krashlyn, the pair wrapping their arms around the two of you.

“Great game baby.” Ali ducks down, kissing the top of your head.

“As always.” Ashlyn grins, messing up Sonnett’s hair much like you had moments ago. “You too Sonny.”

Emily smirks.

“Oh, I know.”

You roll your eyes, giving her a nudge.

“Shut up over there.” You tease, the blonde rolling her eyes.

“Make me fool.”

Ashlyn and Ali share a glance as the two of you start to wrestle, uncaring of the fact that the two of you are currently wrestling in front of cameras, and a stadium full of fans.

“You think they even realize they’re into each other?” Kelley whispers to Ashlyn as she makes her way towards the group.

“Nope.” Ashlyn shakes her head.

“Wait, is Y/N gay?” Megan asks with a grin.

“She hasn’t come out to us yet, but I mean...” She nods to where you’re wrestling with Emily, the two of you stilling, eyes wide and faces red when you realize Emily is on top of you, the two of you abruptly springing apart.

Ali looks at Megan, who then turns to Ashlyn, the two nodding.

“Yeah, totally gay.”

“The gayest.” Tobin adds, appearing from nowhere alongside Christen.

“Remember, let her come to you though.” Christen smiles, the woman smiling when she realizes you and Emily are staring at the group of women, your eyes wide.

“Wh-What?” Emily stutters, running her hands down her jersey nervously, whereas you’re rubbing the back of your neck.

“Yeah is there something on Em’s face?” You snort, earning a slap on the arm from the aforementioned blonde.

Ashlyn shakes her head with a grin.

“Nope.”

Ali giggles, leaning against her wife.

“Nothing at all.”

***

Your parents are literally, two of the gayest women in history, and you were completely and utterly nervous to tell them you were gay.

You weren’t sure what it was that made you nervous, you knew they would accept you as you were, but still, your stomach cramped with nervousness, your hands shook and your heart raced.

“Okay, seriously, you look like you’re about to vomit.” Emily snorts at dinner, and you shrug.

“Just...”

“Thinking?” She fills in, a smile stretching across your face.

“Yeah.”

Emily glances around for a moment before grabbing your arm, your cheeks flushing as she drags you outside to the front of the restaurant.

“Alright, spill.” She says as she leans against the restaurant's outer wall, her hazel orbs narrowed.

You sigh, leaning back against the building beside her, your eyes on the street that’s packed with cars, beeping loudly, the New York lights cascading down on their metal exteriors and glass windows.

“I’m gay.” You mumble, Emily’s eyes widening momentarily before rolling them, though inside, the woman’s heart is racing.

“Seriously?” She snorts, your eyes widening as you turn towards her, your cheeks flushed.

“What?”

“That’s all?” She nudges you and you shake your head.

“I know, it’s stupid to be nervous about, right?” You huff, Emily shaking her head as she rests her head on your shoulder.

“I mean, it wasn’t hard to tell me, right?”

You grin, resting your head on hers.

“Telling you anything is easy, I mean, you’re you.” You shrug.

Emily smiles, her eyes fluttering shut as she slips an arm around you.

“And you’re you.”

***

It’s later that night when you’re knocking on your parent’s door, the door opening seconds later as if the women were expecting you.

Ashlyn steps aside, letting you in before she pulls you into a headlock, digging her knuckles into the top of your head.

“He-Hey!” You groan, trying to wiggle out of her hold, but of course, to no avail.

You grumble as you drop down on the end of the bed, though it’s seconds later before you’re pulled up in between Ali and Ashlyn.

“So, what’s on your mind short stack?” Ashlyn asks, slipping an arm around you.

You take a deep breath, your eyes fluttering shut.

“I’m...” You swallow hard, licking your lips.

“What is it hun?” Ali asks worriedly, a hand on your back, meanwhile Ashlyn peeks around you, sending her wife a massive grin, the blonde HOPING you were going to finally tell them what they already knew.

“I’m gay.” You confess, the room going silent for a moment before Ashlyn groans.

“Thank god.” She sighs. “I thought you were going to tell us you were straight.”

Ali gasps.

“Ashlyn!” She giggles, smacking her wife in the back of her head.

“What she MEANT to say was, we respect you and would love you, no matter WHO you love...” Ali smiles, wrapping her arms tightly around you, giving you a squeeze.

Ashlyn grins.

“She’s right, you’re perfect just the way you are.”

You smile softly, burying yourself in their embrace, simply being, between the two women you consider your parents.

“So...” Ashlyn hums, smirking. “Does this have ANYTHING to do with a certain blonde we all know?”

Your eyes widen.

“A certain, clumsy, sit down comedian we all love?” Ali adds, grinning when your cheeks redden.

“No...” You murmur, the two women snorting loudly.

“Bullshitttt.” Ashlyn says, earning another nudge from Ali.

“She likes you too you know.” Ali grins, your eyes widening further.

“No she doesn’t.”

Ashlyn snickers.

“Kid, are you blind?” She teases. “She totally does!”

Your brows furrow in question, a smile playing on your lips.

“You think so?” You grin, Ashlyn rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, she’s definitely gay, she’s as hopeless as most lesbians.”

You smirk, a brow arching.

“As hopeless as you were when you were in love with Ali and couldn’t tell her?” You challenge with a smirk, the blonde rolling her eyes.

“Touche.”

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #krashlyn x reader #ali krieger x reader #ashlyn harris x reader

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gatheringfiki · 3 years

Text

The following ficlet was written by @i-am-still-bb based on this photoset.

Fili/Kili, Gen.

You might also be able to read this story on AO3.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please leave a comment either in replies or on AO3. :)

---

Christmas 1747

Fili finds himself looking out the cloudy glass into the castle’s courtyard every few minutes. And each time he does not see what he wants to see he sighs and turns back to his book. He has read the same page at least three times by this point.

The room is cold and he can see his breath. No fire has been lit in this room. And none will be until things improve; if they ever improve, or it gets cold enough to freeze the ink in its bottle. Until then he will not allow a fire to be lit in here. He just wears a coat that has certainly seen better days by this point and pulls a blanket across his lap.

After reading the same few lines again he looks out the window.

Nothing. There are some children playing in the courtyard, using sticks as swords and guns, a few chickens peck at the cobblestones, but there is no one else.

He tries not to, but Fili finds himself thinking of Christmases before the ‘45. He remembers sitting in the same room listening to Thorin lecture him about ledger books and politics. He could not focus even then. But then he had been jealous that Kili had been out on some sort of adventure while he had been stuck inside.

That year Kili had burst into Fili’s room and he had had a streak of blood on his face. An encounter with the redcoats, he had said, trying to sound so grownup despite his excitement. Fili had been jealous.

They both know better now.

He remembers that day for another reason as well. Fili had managed to pilfer a bottle of wine for just the two of them and after the feast Kili managed to drink almost the entire bottle by himself while they listened to the musician. That was the first time Fili clearly remembered that spark between them; the excitement when he put his hand atop Kili’s and Kili did not pull away. He thinks it has always been there, but muted and quiet.

That year had been a great year. The hall had been decorated with greenery and silver, the food had been beyond compare—especially in Fili’s memories after nearly 2 years of deprivations. Whole chickens, roasted nuts, plenty of wine, and more. There had been so much food left over.

This year he counts them lucky to have a pig that is presently being roasted in the kitchen by the capable Mrs. Fitz. Fili had approved the exploitative cost, because it was Christmas after all and he wanted to give his people something to celebrate.

And two years prior he had been in the study as well. Thorin had been very ill by that point and Fili was clinging to news from the Bonnie Prince’s army. They had marched nearly to the gates of London, but had turned back only to be harried and harassed to the border and beyond. Kili had been in that army. The army had reached Glasgow on Christmas day for provisions.

Lost in thought Fili hears the commotion before he sees it. A rider has pulled up short in the courtyard. Fili does not need to see the dark hair or the limp made worse by the cold and damp to know that it is Kili.

He drops the book.

On his way to greet Kili he orders a hot bath drawn up in his chamber. Sara nods and disappears.

“You’re late,” Fili accuses.

Kili smirks, his personality untempered by all that has happened. “The woods are wonderful.”

“I hope you did not stray too far.”

Kili shrugs and turns to pat his horse’s neck.

“Kili…”

“I’m back aren’t I?”

Fili exhales heavily. “I just worry.”

“I know,” Kili sighs. “But do you know what it's like to have to hide? What it's like to be trapped?”

“Better to hide and be trapped than transported.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“I told Sara to fill the tub.”

Kili perks up at that. They do not mention his injuries very often. They talk around them. “Thank you.”

“Come.”

Kili tells Fili of the forest and what he saw as they walk through the castle. It is not without decorations. Greenery had been cut and brought inside. This simple form of decoration has even found its way into Fili’s chambers where it adorns the mantle of his fireplace.

The fire there burns high and bright. The tub is filled with steaming water. Kili groans at the sight of it.

“Shall I get a book to read while you bathe?”

Kili shakes his head. “I would rather talk if that is alright.” He brushes his fingers against Fili’s hand.

Fili nods.

Kili slowly undresses. Some motions just like they have always been while others are stiff and pained from injuries sustained during the rebellion.

“Kili…” Fili steps close and settles a hand at Kili’s waist, still covered by his long shirt.

Kili says nothing. They both know about the scar on the skin beneath Fili’s hand. Kili hates talking about his injuries and wounds from his time with the Bonnie Prince, but he hates talking about Fili’s more. The scar on Fili’s side from when he stepped between Kili and a bullet during those final days.

“I missed you,” Fili says softly.

“I wasn’t gone long.”

But they both know that Fili’s not talking about today.

He is talking about then; talking about uncertainty and fear. Things might not be good now, but things are far more certain.

They both move for a hug at the same time. And they stay like that for a long while, and Sara has to refresh the bath water. In the end Fili has to rush Kili from the bath so that they are not late for the Christmas feast.

#submission #Gathering 12 Days 2021 #Fili/Kili #FiKi #Durincest #the Hobbit

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babbushka · 3 years

Note

Hi Mrs. Z! I hope you’re doing well, lovely. I wanted to request Flip teaching his wife how to drive. I imagine how patient and doting he would be looking after her while she masters this new skill. Thanks love! ❤️

A/N: I’m sorry to say this my dear anon, but there is nothing patient about Flip Zimmerman when it comes to driving, lol! But, I hope that you enjoy this chaotic ficlet, even if it isn’t exactly what you had hoped for!

(2.3k, cw: swearing/cursing, arguing, mentions of stabbing, blood, extremely unsafe driving practices, Flip making his girlfriend cry but for only like 2 seconds I promise it’s not really angsty lol)

If Flip had to think about your flaws, he knows he would come up with a pretty short list. There’s not much that you can’t do, especially when you put your mind to something. He has always thought this, let the record show, he thinks you are capable and strong.

He also thinks you are an absolutely fucking nightmarish driver.

Bracing himself with what he has decided can only be called the “jesus!!”-strap on the passenger side of your car, Flip tries to hang on as you tear through the roads. There’s too much happening all at once, he’s got a million things he wants to say, but as you run yet another red light, all he can manage is to shout out a panicked, “Slow down!!”

“I can’t slow down! You’re bleeding all over the fucking place!” You’re just as panicked as he is, which is a much bigger problem because you are the one currently trying to navigate rainy roads in a two-thousand-pound death machine.

It is true, yes, that he is bleeding all over the place. He may or may not have gotten stabbed in a chase that ultimately led to nothing on a big bust that one of the rookies fucked up for the squad. However, he wasn’t so sure that that meant he wasn’t fully capable of driving. He had wrapped himself in a compress of damp towels and plastic-wrap, and he had wholly intended to take the keys when you threw what could only be described as a fit at the state of him.

Which is how Flip finds himself in the very rare position of being the passenger, with you behind the wheel, driving like a bat out of hell.

“Oh my god – you can’t just run a red light like that – who the hell taught you how to drive ketsl? You’re a maniac!” You barrel through another intersection as the windshield wipers are going a mile a minute, and Flip abandons the strap to light up his sixth cigarette of the ride.

And then, you turn to him with a deep scowl, and throw it right back in his face as you point out one of the biggest regrets of Flip Zimmerman’s life, as you remind him that, “You did!”

“I’m going to die like this. Do you know how embarrassing that’s going to be, honey? I’m a decorated officer of the law, I served two fucking tours in Vietnam and I’m going to die because you can’t – watch out!” Flip has to brace himself again as you swerve around a corner too sharply on wet roads, the tires screeching as you burn rubber underneath your wheels. “You’re so fucking lucky you’re pretty, you know that? Pretty girls like you don’t go to jail like they should for bein’ a menace on the fuckin’ roads. If I were in a better frame of mind I’d give you a ticket – no, worse than that! I’d lock you up, house arrest, no more drivin’ for the rest of your days.”

“Okay fine, you drive then.” You snap, throwing your hands up with exasperation, abandoning the wheel entirely, “If you’re going to just bitch the whole time you can do it.”

“Ketsl!” Flip yells as he grabs the wheel so that the two of you don’t go crashing into a street lamp, “Jesus you’re gonna kill us. How’d you even get your fucking license anyway? Bet you smiled so pretty at the schmuck at the DMV and batted your lashes. You’re a menace, I can’t believe you.”

Yes, he was the one who taught you how to drive. Or at the very least, he’s the one who attempted. He remembers it as if it were only yesterday, and tries not to think that he’s watching his life flash before his eyes…

~~~~~~~~

You had been waiting for him on your front porch when he came pulling up to the curb one day after work. Dressed real smartly, you bounded over to the driver’s window and he rolled it down enough that you could lean in and give him a big wet kiss.

“Hey sweetheart, what do you want to do today?” Flip had asked, starry eyed that he got to call you his girl. He had a couple plans in mind for the evening, but he always liked to ask you first, because your input mattered more.

“You can’t laugh.” You started off by saying, which by all accounts should have been Flip’s first clue that it was going to be a stressful day.

“Why would I laugh?”

“Because I was hopin’ you’d teach me how to drive.”

You look too hopeful for Flip to say no flat-out, but he really wants to. He really really wants to say no. But he’s a gentleman, or at least he tries to be, so he tries to find a polite way to say it, and eventually settles on, “…You sure about that?”

“Yeah! C’mon it looks real easy, and you’re a great teacher and you love me so much and I thought that it would be nice.” You’re determined, and he loves that about you in just about every other circumstance, as you continue on and on, “You know and then maybe if I get my license I could get a car and you wouldn’t have to go waitin’ on me all the time. I could pick you up from work, take you out to dinner.”

“But I like waiting on you and picking you up and taking you out to dinner.” Flip points out as he reaches through the window and pinches your nose playfully between his fingers, gives your face a little shake.

“Please Philly? Please won’t you teach me?” You pout and give him your best doe eyes, batting your lashes at him in the way that always gets him to say yes, and he sighs.

He brings you back to his house, and gets out and calls Jimmy, who he somehow manages to convince to bring his car over. Flip drives a stick-shift, and he can already tell that would be a nightmare in itself, but Jimmy drives an automatic, which he has a feeling is going to be easier.

You’re too excited to be learning that you don’t even question it, happily climbing into the passenger seat and marveling at all the dials and numbers on the dashboard. Flip slides into the passenger seat and hands you the keys.

“Okay, this here’s an automatic car. That means you don’t have to worry about shifting gears too quickly, and can focus on just controlling the car.” He explains, and you nod.

“How come we aren’t in your car?” You ask offhandedly, and Flip scratches at his goatee.

“Because I like my car.” He replies truthfully.

“Rude.”

“First step, turn the car on and check your mirrors.” Flip ignores the remark and tries to be encouraging as you turn the ignition and the engine rumbles underneath you. You jump a little, letting a happy laugh escape your lips at the marvel of automotive technology, and Flip tries not to be patronizing. It doesn’t work that well, “Very good, you’re doing great, you’re a natural. My girl, the natural.”

“You’re so mean to me why do I put up with you?” You chuckle, not wanting to feel like a dog who learned a new trick, even if that is sort of what it felt like.

“Love you,” Flip apologizes with a kiss, and checks to make sure the coast is clear before instructing, “Put the car in reverse, and slowly lift off the brake – ”

Either you have a different definition of slow, or this is going to be a lot harder than Flip thought, because his stomach is swooping up into his throat as you go speeding down the driveway, foot almost entirely off the pedal.

“Sorry!” You immediately slam on the brake, and Flip’s head smacks forwards against the dashboard, making you wince as your entire body tenses up, “I’m sorry, slowly, right got it, slowly.”

This should have been Flip’s second clue.

His patience manages to last for three entire minutes, before he just can’t take it anymore.

You’re out of the drive way now, having successfully avoided hitting the mailbox, and are now making right turns around the neighborhood, except that you really aren’t grasping how slow slow really is, and Flip’s seriously worried someone’s porch dog is going to be in major trouble.

“You have to slow down before you turn!” He grits his teeth, his foot instinctively pressing on a brake that isn’t there, and he wishes in the back of his head that he had rented one of those student driving cars as he fists a hand into his hair and bites the inside of his cheek, “Are your shoes filled with lead? What’s the matter with you? Who have you ever been in the car with that drives this fast?”

“You always speed like this!” You point out, but Flip doesn’t want to hear it.

“Yeah, on the highway! Not in a residential fuckin’ neighborhood – you know maybe that’s what you need, let’s get on the freeway, c’mon make a right here.” Flip instructs, and you let out an exasperated sigh and do as he says.

Ten minutes later, Flip is certain you’re going to drive him over a cliff, and it shows.

“Pull over – you know what, just fuckin’ – pull over. You don’t need to learn how to drive, okay? You don’t have to do anything from now on but sit there and look pretty, and eat some snacks. Okay?” He’s not shouting, not exactly, but his voice is raised with panic and irritation, patience completely gone out the window.

“Okay.” You reply, voice small, as you put on the flashers and hit the brakes, gravel flying everywhere underneath the tires as you pull onto the shoulder, away from the free-way.

Flip lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, and rubs at a pounding headache that formed, as you get out of the car and begin to walk away. Confused and concerned, Flip immediately wrenches open the door of the car and follows you, his tension and panic giving way to an altogether different fear when he notices you wiping at your eyes.

“Are you crying?” Flip demands, his voice a little too harsh, and you wince from it.

“No.” You scowl at him, your eyes absolutely filled with tears that keep welling up, clinging to your lashes.

“Aw ketsl don’t cry – ”

“I’m not fucking crying.” You cry, before throwing your hands up in the air in exasperation and defeat, “Sorry I’m such a shitty unteachable terrible awful driver.”

Flip feels a dagger go through his chest, he doesn’t think he’s ever made you cry. Never, not once, in all the time he’s known you, and now here he is, feeling like the biggest schmuck in the world, because he lost his temper.

Approaching you gently, Flip pulls you into his arms and kisses the top of your head, kisses all over your face, at your cheeks and chin.

“Hey, no one said any of that.” He whispers, rubbing his cheek against yours, trying to get you to calm down.

“You didn’t have to.” You sound so glum, and he hates himself for it, because it’s his fault.

“Look at me?” Flip grabs your cheeks in between his hands, squishes them every so slightly as he looks you in the eye and says seriously, “You are a great person, with many, many talents. And driving…like anything it’s all about practice. That’s just what you need, some practice.”

“It was a stupid idea in the first place, I don’t know what the fuck I was even thinkin’.” You try to shake him off, but he’s stronger than you and won’t let you go that easily.

“You were thinkin’ that you’d like to be independent and I don’t blame you.” Flip realizes, chewing on his lip. It was the 1960s now, women were starting to drive in greater numbers and you wanted to be one of them, you didn’t want to be some helpless damsel not able to get herself around. As much as Flip wanted to be the fella to take care of you, he couldn’t fault you for wanting to take care of yourself, so he sighs out a gentle, “Let’s give it another go? Will you drive us back to my house?”

“’Kay.” You hear the sincerity in his voice, and you nod.

“That’s my girl.” Flip kisses away those unshed tears, and leads you back to the car, opening the driver’s door for you.

“If you yell at me again though, I’ll let go of the wheel and you’ll have to fuckin’ deal with it.” You threaten, and Flip only chuckles, not thinking you’d ever mean it.

~~~~~~~~

At the hospital, you sit on the edge of his bed and reach for his hand. Flip gives it to you, and you pull it to your lips, pressing a kiss to the wedding band. Those days seem so far away now, and really, you are a good driver. You are.

“I’m sorry.” You sigh, “I’m just worried about you. I always get worried when you show up at home bloody like that.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled, that was wrong of me.” Flip shakes his head, an amused smile on his lips. God it really was a good thing you were pretty, wasn’t it?

“Think I just need a little more practice?” You crack a grin, biting at your lip and echoing a sentiment that he had shared years and years ago.

“Yeah, we’ll start with a couple right turns as soon as I’m free to go.” Flip replies, and you huff out a laugh.

“I hate you, you know that?” You kiss his ring again, rubbing your cheek against his palm.

“What was that? I couldn’t here you, come a little closer…” Flip’s hand cups your cheek, winds into your hair a little as he guides your face down down down to kiss him.

Eyes closing, you press your smiles together, knowing that when he’s discharged after his pain killers start to wear off, when you drive home it’ll be a far calmer affair.

~~~~~~~~

@mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @rennasiance-mama @steeevienicks @the-unmanaged-mischief @materialisthicc @hswritingrecs @miabelay11 @han68000 @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @loverofallthings @groovetoob @bxnnywriting @glassbxttless @angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @cowgirl1234 @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975 @cornmousequeen

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman/reader #flip zimmerman x you #adam driver fanfic #adcu #blackkklansman #flip zimmerman fanfic #flip zimmerman fluff #flip zimmerman imagine #Anonymous

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spiderling-space · 4 years

Note

Henlo Liho-san~! A new follower of yours uwu May I ask for hcs of how the dorm leaders would react with having an f!s/o who is mostly respectful and polite, suddenly about to throw hands with someone as they may or may not have said or complained about the dorm head they were dating. It was not a compliment in any way or form- I hope I didn't cross over any rules! But if I had to pick 5 out of 7 of them, it's Riddle, Azul, Idia, Kalim, and Vil. Thanks a bunch if you notice this~! Good Luck!!♡♡

Hey yo Nocturne! I know of you from liking I and Brew’s OC (twisted-whimsies): Mozerella Trein and a couple TW related posts of mine.

Prefects and Vice Prefects are exception from character limit.

After finishing this, I realized I wrote something between a ficlet and headcanon. I hope you’ll like it though 💕

My German knowledge is bugging me to write Vil’s surname with ö instead of o yet my order-loving side is telling me to stick to how it’s written in TW

Before I start I’m gonna add a quote from a fandom of mine 👀 one look at my OG blog would reveal which fandom it is.

“Fallaces sunt rerum species”

Meaning: The appearances of things are deceptive

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle can handle himself. At least he could before his overblot episode. No body dared to talk behind his back.

But now he holds back, not using his unique magic frequently anymore which caused some students think he became too lenient and a couple students started to abuse this leniency

Every time someone tries his patience he counts to 10 internally or just ignore them. Don’t get him wrong, he still sticks to rules and makes his dorm follow the rules but he cannot force people to stop talking about him

Today is going to one of the days when he would ignore any bad mouthing because he is with (Y/N), the sweetest person he ever met

(Y/N) already saw at his worst when he overblotted. He doesn’t want her to see any more incidents such that.

He and (Y/N) decided to take a walk in Rose Gardens as a date. Then decided to get into Rose Maze, holding hands strictly for to not get lost.

“Prefect Rosehearts became such a softie. He is no longer fit to be our prefect.” “He never was. Mommy Issues needs to go back to kindergarten.”

(Y/N) and Riddle were in East side of Rose Maze when they heard 2 Heartslabyl students talking which made (Y/N) stop in her track. Riddle tugged her hand to move on but she didn’t budge.

“Riddle, honey, either push away those bushes or I’ll climb over it and have a nice chat with them.”

“There is no need.” — “okay then I’m climbing”

And she did. Riddle didn’t know how but she managed to go to other side of bushes by climbing to them.

“Hey jackasses! Would you like to say that again?” The two students were shocked to see Riddle’s girlfriend jump from above. “Wh- what?”

“I asked if you wanted to say those to my face.” And no answer.

Meanwhile Riddle was on the other side of bush walls, listening what’s happening.

“Did Riddle or did he not manage to increase Heartslabyl’s average grade?” “He did...” “Did he or did he not helped your dorm to have better ranking at Magift?” “He did...” “Did he treat you unfair ever since he fixed how he acted?” “No...” “Then what makes you say he is unfit? Is it because he is more tolerant on rules? Is it because he cares how his dorm mates feel?” No answer again. “I hope you come to your senses now because next time I hear something like this will be the first and last time you taste my wrath. Are we clear?” — “Yes ma’am!”

(Y/N) climbed over the bush again and landed in front of Riddle. With a kiss to his cheek, “Just because you give less punishment doesn’t mean you need to let people bully you. If anyone else acts this way, I’ll have a talk with them.”

She held his hand and pulled him into the maze again. Meanwhile Riddle was still wondering how his girlfriend climbed over a maze’s wall.

🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁

Leona Kingscholar

Leona is used to people bad mouthing about him back in his palace. While in Savanaclaw, his dorm mates respected him and didn’t dare to oppose him. That is until they saw his vulnerable side during his overblot accident.

He heard a couple dorm mates say “He can’t do anything by himself.” “Good for nothing.” “All that lazy lion does is sleep.” “He must have lack brains to repeat the same year over and over again.”

He is used to ignoring them and sleeping it off. And his favorite pillow, (Y/N), helped him to dismiss their thoughts.

Leona only asked (Y/N) out because he figured she would be great body pillow. Certainly not her lively and cheerful attitude, nor her bright smile.

Leona asked (Y/N) out for a night date in Savanaclaw. It’s because he wanted to nap in his dorm. It’s absolutely not that Savanaclaw lounge looks romantic at night.

When (Y/N) arrived, she unfortunately heard those.

Leona tugged her arm to lead her to where their date suppose to take but no avail.

“Hold my purse, kitten.” (Y/N) handed her purse to Leona and went where those dorm members stand.

“Hey there is something in your face!” The main jerk looked up “Huh?” Proceeded with a punch to his face. “It was PAIN!” And ended with the guy falling to ground, holding his nose.

“Does anyone else have something on their faces?” The remaining ones shook their head in NO. “Good.” She turned on her heels and went to Leona’s side.

All Leona could do was admire her right hook. He did not think how she wouldn’t feel out of blue in Afterglow Savannah if she were to live there because women in his hometown are strong and fighters.

🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙

Azul Ashengrotto

(Y/N) first caught Azul’s eye when she sat down for 7 hours to read every single detail in his contract and demanded a change in certain conditions. Azul refused to make contract with her then offered her a job in Mostro Lounge.

With persuasion from the twins, Azul gathered courage to ask (Y/N) out. And she accepted.

They often stayed late hours in Mostro Lounge to spend some alone time.

After their quick date followed by closing of Mostro Lounge, Azul walked arm in arm with (Y/N) until the mirror passage. As they were walking, 2 Octavinelle student were messing around.

“Look at me! I’m the crybaby who hides behind two eels!” — “No one is making contract, I’mma cry now!” — “Maybe I can turn my crying into money. I can sell all the ink I cry!” “Nice one dude!”

One look to Azul’s face, (Y/N) understood he would deal with them either personally or the twins would play with them.

Not today Satan!

(Y/N) let Azul’s arm go and slowly approached the duo. “I am (Y/N), you can’t insult my boyfriend like that; prepare to die... socially I mean...” — “What are you saying?”

“I don’t have patience, time nor crayons to explain this to you but I’ll let you on a secret. Sometimes a nasty rumor, which doesn’t have to be true, can ruin someone’s entire school life. Maybe telling everyone your secret wish that you once asked from Azul or you offering a different type of payment to teachers to pass the grade.” — “You can’t do that!” — “I can and I will unless you cut the crap, ask for forgiveness and work for free in Mostro Louge for a week.” — “It’s a deal!”

Azul came to (Y/N)’s side as the two boys run away. Azul once again saw his angelfish using her wits to get what she wants. He knows she didn’t need to do that but he is flattered by the fact that his girlfriend wants to protect him.

🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim asked (Y/N) out after spending time together after Jamil overblotted.

He is still the sunshine bean that brings smile to everyone’s faces. (Y/N) is as cheerful as Kalim and that’s why he hit it off

Kalim took (Y/N) to another carpet ride as a date. She loves the feeling of wind on her face on top clouds.

As they returned to the dorm, they heard a couple students talking.

“I don’t care what Jamil did. He was right! Kalim is unfit to represent us. After he became prefect, we became the last at everything.” — “How many Kalim can change a light bulb? None because he is too idiot and too incapable to change one. Hehehehe”

(Y/N) saw tears building up on Kalim’s eyes then she snapped. She made carpet to fly over them in law altitude then she jumped down in front of them. “Surprise motherfuckers!” Before anyone can understand what happened. (Y/N) kicked the one that made bulb joke between his legs then held and twist the ear of the other two. “You have 10 seconds to reconsider what you just talked. I suggest not to waste time.”

The trio tried to dismissed what they said but the glare they received made them comply. “Prefect Kalim, we are sorry to make fun of you.”

Kalim as the personification of sunbeams forgave them. Then turned his attention to his beloved. He was impressed by how she jumped down and was ready to protect him without any hesitation. He never thought someone as kind and happy person as her could hide a fighter in her. Not going to lie, he loves seeing this side of hers

👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑

Vil Schönheit

Being with Vil is exhausting. Don’t get her wrong, it’s not him (Y/N) is complaining. It’s the people around them.

(Y/N) started paying more attention to her appearance

(Y/N) was waiting for Vil to get ready, sitting on his bed. Vil had free time that day and they were going out.

As they went out of the room, whispering ensued as always but this time, for the first time, a Pomefiore student bad mouthed about Vil.

“He is compensating his wretched personality with his looks!”

Vil isn’t someone to care opinions of a no-mark but (Y/N) is

“Hold my earrings, my love.” (Y/N) took out her earrings and handed them to Vil. “I’m going to snatch his wig!” — “He’s not wearing a wig...”

“I take it you weren’t burned with overabundance of schooling. You think you’re a Gucci but you’re not even Lacoste. Now apologize before I think your face needs a makeover.” — “Gucci? Lacoste?” — “And I suggest hide your jealousy better. You can’t get near Vil as a fan and you try to make up for it by talking about something that you have no idea on. Honestly I am jealous of people who haven’t met you.”

(Y/N) waves back the boy, going back to Vil’s side then putting her earrings again.

Vil is quite pleased what has occurred. Not only he saw how (Y/N) can destroy someone with just words but he also saw a glimpse of what she thinks of him. Maybe he should hire some people to insult him so he can see this side of hers again.

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Idia Shroud

Idia tries everything he can to stay in his room but there is an anime con that he and (Y/N) are going so he needs to get out of his room.

Idia and (Y/N) dressed up as his favorite anime couple.

Idia left his room voluntarily without any compulsory reason! It became a quick hit topic in Ignihyde.

Idia and (Y/N) went to anime-con and Ortho tagged along to record the ordeal.

They had to return early because some drunk in the con spilt juice on (Y/N).

So they returned NRC then Ignihyde. Ortho left for somewhere as Idia and (Y/N) walked in Ignihyde lounge.

“He doesn’t even go Dorm meeting but doesn’t have a problem with going a stupid con! Idia is an embarrassment to Ignihyde! All he does is play games and ramble about them!”

(Y/N) coughed gathering attention from the group.

Idia freaked out by being in highlight, hand pulled his chest, eyes widened.

“Baby, get behind me.” (Y/N) stepped in front of Idia and strutted to the Ignihyde student that was shit talking. “Pick a God and pray.”

The boy gulped. “Wh-What?!”

“Did I stutter?”

“I don’t know what—“ He threw his hands to air in frustration. (Y/N) grabbed his wrist, twisting and pulling his arm. The momentum caused the boy to fell face forward. (Y/N) still holding his arm twisted, “Now, dear, you’ll apologize and promise that you’ll never speak of Idia that way. Then get out of my face or else..” — “Yes ma’am!” The boy did as he was told.

Idia couldn’t guess in a million years that his goody two shoes girlfriend was capable of pulling this stunt. What he saw right now made him think the fighter beautiful ladies in anime. It was like a dream come true for him.

🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉

Malleus Draconia

People feared Malleus for a really long time that he couldn’t remember anything else.

People avoided and tend to talk behind his back yet those didn’t reach insult level.

Who was stupid enough to dare that?

Malleus asked (Y/N) if she wanted to explore Diasomnia dorm and hear about the gargoyles of Diasomnia.

Of course she would love it. She loves when Malleus goes on about gargoyles for hours. And she is the only member in his club. Plus nightly strolls are their dates.

“He has no friends and no body loves him. For goodness’ sake, his intimating aura makes rest of dorm unapproachable! Can’t he just be gone already!?”

No genius is needed to know who that Diasomnia student was talking about.

Malleus’ mood turned sour immediately. He could curse that boy but this would only prove those wretched rumors.

(Y/N) finds Malleus’ sulking face extremely attractive (he is too attractive to be real) but no one has any right to upset her beloved.

“I’m about to end this man’s whole career.”

“Dear, wait me here. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Off (Y/N) went to defend Malleus’ honor.

“Hi there! Couldn’t help but hear you. Have you ever thought you have no friends because you’re an ass?” — “Who do you think you are? Oh it’s you.” — “It’s me Mario!” — “Huh???”

“Now now, let’s talk shall we? All you do is complain yet you don’t do anything to improve anything. You hold others accountable when you fail while there is no one but you to blame. You’re so wrapped in your tiny bubble that you can’t see outside world. That’s what small minded people do. Whoever told you to be yourself simply couldn’t give you any worse advice.” The guy was left speechless, gaping like a fish out of water. “Close your mouth or else you might swallow a fly.”

(Y/N) went back to Malleus side, winking at him. His heart skipped a beat, thinking this was such a queen act. Defending her beloved with her words. To be fair, Malleus finds everything (Y/N) does a fitting trait for a queen, the way she rambles, snorts, breaths, smiles...

Malleus only wishes he met (Y/N) ages ago.

#riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia #savanaclaw #octavinelle #scarabia #pomefiore #ignihyde #diasomnia #prefect #female reader #headcanons #heartslabyul

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spaceorphan18 · 3 years

Text

99 Perspectives on a Single Love Story #50

A/N: The Story of Kurt and Blaine told through the eyes of everyone else but them. Each chapter is a different perspective in the ongoing tale of their love story.

I started something like this a while back - and now I’m taking the idea and really running with it. Each chapter is a ficlet of a different character at a different point in Kurt and Blaine’s life - documenting their love story. This starts in Audition, and each chapter will be paired with a different episode until reaching Dreams Come True.

[Ao3]

***

Cassandra July (Glease)

Jesus, fuck, she could use a cigarette.

Cassie July dismisses her class of juniors, annoyed that a class with two years of experience can’t follow a simple routine. How did half these kids even make it into this school with this pathetic level of understanding? She has long wondered what kind of bizarre and somewhat random method Carmen Tibideaux uses to pick her students, but she’ll never question it out loud -- Tibideaux did, after all, give her a job, and she does not intend to lose that.

As her class filters out of the studio, two people filter in - Rachel Berry and her depressingly sad looking roommate, Kurt? Pretty sure it’s Kurt.

“What?” She barks as Rachel Berry bounces towards her. That dull throb of a headache she always gets when Berry is around resurfaces. A strong drink after that cigarette sounds good.

“Remember yesterday when you said you’d let us have your JetBlue Vouchers so that we could go back to Ohio?” Rachel says in her overdetermined voice.

“Vaguely.”

“Yes, well, Kurt and I are here to collect. You see, after doing some thinking about it, we decided that Grease at any level is a brilliant masterpiece of a show and that it doesn’t matter if our exes are attached to it - we should see it in any form because witnessing any kind of musical theater, especially one that we could perhaps offer a critique to, would be worth it for the experience, and besides we have other friends in the show - well, most of our friends graduated, but our one friend Tina has been texting me nonstop that we should come back, and I don’t plan on going back for Thanksgiving, and we missed Homecoming, so we should at least go back and see them once, and my dads would probably like to see me as well so I can tell them how wonderful I’m doing here in person.”

Cassie arches an eyebrow - not quite amazed that the girl has enough hot air in her to say all of that in one breath.

She shoots a look over to the roommate, who hasn’t said a word. Cassie notices he’s still dressed entirely in black - possibly the same outfit he wore yesterday. In mourning, clearly. He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t move, doesn’t even seem like he’s quite all there. His eyes are red and tired, he probably hasn’t slept in days.

Damn, kid. There’s enough sense in her to note that while Berry probably has some kind of yoyo thing going on with her ex, this kid is going through something else entirely. If he is finding it easier to let Berry drive his life, then that must have been one helluva breakup.

“The vouchers are in my office,” Cassie says coolly, motioning for them to follow her.

Her office is two floors up. Berry gabs the entire way, much to Cassie’s annoyance. Her roommate, however, remains quiet and sullen a few feet behind them.

She rummages through her desk, getting out the vouchers and throwing them on the desk. It’ll be a nice few days without Berry hanging around. Besides - she can enact the main reason for getting her out of there. Cassie knows just how much Berry has had her eye set on Brody Weston, and Cassie knows exactly how Brody’s making money these days. She can tolerate his dick for two hours if it means she can stick it to her least favorite student a little. Besides, it’s been a little bit since she’s scratched that itch. Why not have it done by someone trying to become a professional? Maybe she can offer him a few pointers, too.

“Well, I hope you enjoy the show, Berry,” Cassie says with as much disinterest as she can muster.

“Oh, I will,” Rachel says as she snatches up the vouchers. “Finn is going to be so shocked when I see him, and I, of course, will take the higher road. I mean, we’re both adults now, and I have moved on, so this is about showing him that I have in fact moved on - and he probably has, too which is good for both of us.”

Cassie rolls her eyes at her. Could she have any more self-delusion?

“Thank you,” the roommate mumbles. He’s still staring off to space, nervously rubbing one hand over the other, most likely having conflicting thoughts about seeing that ex again.

Cassie softens on him. Seeing someone in real pain does that to her. “I hope you find some closure,” she offers - stating it directly to him.

He looks up at her, giving her an odd look - as if he’s surprised she’s acknowledged him. She offers a rare, sympathetic smile, and nods her head. He gets it, and manages to paste on a hint of a forced smile, before turning his head again. Poor kid. He’s got a rough weekend ahead of him. Probably hopes Rachel’s brightness will keep him in the shadows.

As Rachel starts to go on about how she does, in fact, have closure from her ex, Cassie snaps her fingers. “Alright, now get out of my office. I have a class I have to teach.”

#99 perspectives #i like how this one turned out #s.o. writes things

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